《Sword Witch Book One》


 Chapter One

    ¡­


    YOU SAVED THE WITCH.


    ¡­


    YOU FREED THE DEMON.


    ¡­


    YOU WILL BE PUNISHED FOR THESE CRIMES.


    ¡­


    YOU WILL SHARE THEIR FATE.


    ¡­


    A NEW LIFE WILL BEGIN NOW.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Sword Witch


    Juxtaposition of Another World


    By


    Ninmast Nunyabiz


    (1)


    The alarm was a frustratingly familiar sound, its voluminous bleating the harbinger of every undesirably premature day. She didn¡¯t actually recall setting it the night before, but that wasn¡¯t what was primarily on her mind.


    Had it all been a dream? It had to have been, of course. Things like that just didn¡¯t happen.


    Sitting up was the wrong thing to do, then, as her senses were immediately assaulted with far too many things that contradicted her flawlessly logical conclusion of the impossible.


    Directly across the room she didn¡¯t recognize, a girl¡¯s school uniform hung from a shelf stuffed with dolls and plush animals. It looked so small, the idea of wearing it seemed laughable, but she could read the school emblem on its breast as clear as day even though she¡¯d not yet picked up any glasses.


    She almost failed to notice the heavy weight of hair against her back as she turned to swing her legs out of the bed and looked down at her form, clad in lavender pajamas. She flipped her hands over and back again multiple times in her lap, then did it several more times with them raised up before her at different angles.


    Yes, she could say with absolute certainty that she had never seen these tiny hands before in her life.


    Fortunately, despite their foreign nature, they were more than adequate for reaching over and flipping off the alarm clock, whose blithe insistence in the face of her existential crisis could only be described as rude.


    Her eyes returned once more to the uniform and she pushed herself to her feet to head over to it.


    On the desk next to the bookshelf that held the uniform aloft was a purse and a small bundle of papers. A note was on top of the latter, the graceful loops of a girl¡¯s writing energetically informing her, ¡°Don¡¯t forget!¡±


    Something about the note was wrong, though. It took her a moment to realize she didn¡¯t recognize the language she was reading, at least not before that morning. A cursory glance about the desk revealed the notepad the illogical message came from, and she picked up a pen to write the same message on the next piece of paper.


    It came out in the same language, with the same ornate loop on the letters. So this was her handwriting now. Okay, probably the least bewildering thing the morning had delivered thus far, she could live with that.


    She pulled the uniform off of the shelf and held it before her body in front of the full-length mirror nearby. It was hard to believe the thing that seemed from her old perspective to be so small covered her form so completely, the skirt even coming past her knees. For now, she laid it on the bed and peered again into the reflective surface, coming face to face with it this time.


    She rubbed the unfamiliar contours of her chin and turned to examine each side of her face in turn.


    There was a faint echo of familiarity in the features that looked back at her, as if she were looking perhaps at a little sister she only shared one parent with, or maybe a distant cousin would be more accurate.


    No one would ever mistake them for the same person, or in all likelihood even assume relation, but having looked at her last face for so long, she could pick out subtle parallels. It wasn¡¯t much, but at least looking in the mirror wouldn¡¯t be completely incomprehensible.


    The paperwork, then, needed to be examined. Opening the packet up revealed letterheads with the same emblem as the uniform, and included a letter of acceptance to their high school, a freshman schedule, a list of things to bring that she guessed, and confirmed with a quick check, to be in a nearby backpack, and a student identification card.


    The purse, on the other hand, held basically what she expected. It was small enough to hold in the hand, but sported a shoulder strap long enough to have it rest against her hip. Within was a small wallet holding more identification, a train pass, a library card, a debit card and some loose currency, as well as a small assortment of cosmetics. A smartphone nearby was still charging on a cable.


    So that was it, then. School. First year. No wonder she was so small. She was just a kid, and quite excited for it all if the effort she''d put into it was any sign.


    A kid, huh? she thought to herself as she rubbed her hand against the unfamiliar doppelganger''s in the mirror. She scoffed, and the girl on the other side cracked a grin like they had shared a joke. Heh, I''d better be careful, or I''m liable to use that label on someone older than I am now. Yeah, that could go poorly.


    Honestly, she thought she was taking all of this pretty well. She was pleased with how rational and calm she was being about everything. After all, how often does one find their entire identity rewritten? Surely not enough times to practice. Panic would be perfectly rational in a mind with less self-control.


    Her eyes widened as a loud sound from beneath her reached her ears, alerting her to other, quieter sounds she¡¯d been tuning out. Other people moving around, getting ready for the new day. Details she¡¯d puzzled out flashed through her mind in rapid succession in sudden and terrible new contrast.


    She was a kid.


    It was the first day of school.


    The house she was in was big enough for a second story.


    ¡­ Oh no ¡­


    * * *


    She had delayed her descent by taking her time getting ready, and tentatively made her way down the stairwell toward the noises. Sure enough, three complete strangers were conducting their morning in the open kitchen.


    A Caucasian man read the morning news on his tablet over a cup of coffee.


    An Asian woman was filling bowls from a steamer in between preparing toast.


    A boy even younger than her fiddled with the neck of a different uniform as he got comfortable at the table.


    She didn¡¯t recognize a single one of them. But why would she? She was literally walking in on the breakfast of a family she didn¡¯t know from Adam.


    That didn¡¯t keep the woman from smiling when she turned around with the bowls and saw her at the base of the stairs. ¡°Good morning, dear! Your uniform looks lovely on you! Oh, hard to believe you¡¯re in high school already! Why, it seems like only yesterday I was sending you off to grade school--¡±


    ¡°Saki,¡± the man interrupted her as he lowered the tablet, ¡°you¡¯re talking with your hands.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± At the reminder that she was holding two bowls she was beginning to swing about, she eased them onto the table. ¡°Come and eat, the toast will be finished soon!¡±


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    It was too much. She couldn¡¯t take it. These complete strangers treating her like they knew her overwhelmed her in a way everything isolated to her room couldn¡¯t. Unlike the separate details of the room, these refused to be taken individually.


    The small motions of the man manipulating the tablet screen, the woman¡¯s bright smile and vivid personality, the boy¡¯s constant fidgeting.


    She couldn¡¯t tune them out, couldn¡¯t separate them into bite-sized pieces without the rest intruding. She felt nauseous, as if she¡¯d been stricken with motion sickness and the merry-go-round refused to stop spinning.


    Her feet were moving toward the door and away from the scene almost before she fully processed that she had to get out of there, and her back was to the room before the sound of the man¡¯s tablet clicking against the table reached her ears.


    ¡°Riko? Where are you going, honey?¡±


    Her feet stopped. Nariko was the name on the identification card. Trying to distract itself, her mind tried to puzzle away whether or not Saki had also been a nickname rather than the woman¡¯s full name. But that wasn¡¯t going to give them an answer.


    ¡°Oh, I was going to leave early.¡±


    She could practically picture him looking at the clock on the wall. ¡°This early?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to make sure I could find it. If I have trouble and didn¡¯t have enough time, I could end up late on my first day.¡±


    Shut up, she told herself. Shut up and stop talking so much. They don¡¯t need a dissertation on your lie.


    ¡°But what about your breakfast?¡± It was the woman who spoke up this time.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she apologized, only feeling a little guilty for the work the stranger had gone to for her sake. ¡°I¡¯ll pick something up on my way.¡±


    The bewildered family said nothing else in their confusion and she didn¡¯t remain around for them to come up with any other questions. In another minute, she was out the door into the cool morning air, past the front gate and her back pressed against the stonework as she took one deep breath after another.


    By all that was holy, how could she even think of coming back into that disaster voluntarily in a mere handful of hours? It was too much to ask!


    * * *


    An hour later, a different girl came up to the house to ring the doorbell, and when the woman opened it up, she smiled. ¡°Haru, good morning!¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Mrs. Kelly,¡± the blonde girl greeted. ¡°Is Nariko ready?¡±


    What had been an easy smile faltered. ¡°She¡¯s already left, Haru. Nearly an hour ago, I think, said she was worried about finding her way. She didn¡¯t text you?¡±


    ¡°Not a peep,¡± the girl frowned, too. ¡°Was she mad about something?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know,¡± the woman provided, shaking her head. ¡°She would have left without saying a word if Marcus hadn¡¯t spoken up about it. It wasn¡¯t like her.¡± A moment of thought passed across her face. ¡°She looked a bit pale, perhaps she¡¯s not feeling well?¡±


    * * *


    For being the day that her entire existence was erased and rewritten, it had really been remarkably uneventful.


    Apparently, she normally would have had Homeroom as her first class, except for the morning assembly. That didn¡¯t really surprise her, she¡¯d never seen a first day of school that hadn¡¯t had one. They¡¯d remained standing the whole time, which revealed a pleasant surprise to her that she no longer possessed flat feet. Yet another plus, she supposed.


    There had even been a physical education class about halfway through the day, and it seemed she was pretty fit physically, at least relative to all of the fifteen-year-olds she had to compare herself against.


    Of course, she didn¡¯t join in with the cries of indignation the first time they received homework. She didn¡¯t really understand where the sense of entitlement came from. She certainly remembered she used to be just as indignant, but she also couldn¡¯t recall a single year it didn¡¯t happen anyway.


    She still hadn¡¯t decided how she was going to handle friendships, though. As hard as she tried, she couldn¡¯t help but see them all as kids, and their interests seemed just as banal. What was she supposed to talk with them about?


    Girls that weren¡¯t talking about private matters with close friends only seemed to spend their time either being catty about other girls or talking about boys. She had no interest in insulting others for social points, and there was absolutely no way she was going to entertain whether or not children were attractive.


    As a result, she had spent most of the day¡¯s social opportunities largely keeping to herself. Maybe she could find a club or something to have a commonality with some of her fellow students worth chatting about.


    She had only two prominent interactions with her fellow students the entire day, one when the girl in front of her asked to borrow a pencil, which she obliged, and one where a male student came to her.


    He had been trying to make small talk, but she didn¡¯t like the way he did it while trying to swagger, and was obviously looking for an in. Rather than risk encouraging him, she had ignored him, and eventually, he moved on.


    On the plus side, the school had a very nicely appointed library, with personal tables near the exterior windows that caught the sunset and painted the room in increasing shades of soothing orange.


    She hadn¡¯t been in any particular rush to head straight back home when she thought of the nauseous panic attack she¡¯d had that morning, and the homework she''d received was an ideal excuse to take advantage of the place for the couple extra hours they stayed open. She wasn¡¯t the only one to avail herself of the facilities, though there were fewer now that the time was nearly over than there had been to start with.


    She, too, was running out of excuses for going home.


    Her smartphone was on the table beside her papers, where she had been using it as a calculator after turning off the ringer in accordance with the library¡¯s rules. Timely, it began to vibrate just as she was reaching for it to resume work.


    The screen helpfully informed her that the call was coming from ¡°Home.¡± Perhaps she had less time than she thought.


    She took a moment to gather herself before picking it up and flipping the green prompt on the screen.


    ¡°Hello?¡± she opened simply, but she wasn¡¯t ready for the gush that came from the other side.


    ¡°Riko, honey, where are you?!¡±


    It was the woman of the house, it took her a moment to recall her name was Saki, or at least her nickname was. Not that it would do her well to use it.


    ¡°School ended more than an hour ago. When you didn¡¯t come home, and after how you were this morning, I was worried sick! I called Haru¡¯s house, I called the fountain shop, and nobody had seen you! You aren¡¯t at the hospital, are you?!¡±


    She genuinely did not see this coming, though the moment that thought struck her, she realized she really should have. She had no emotional ties to the family outside of their very existence freaking her out, so she hadn¡¯t even considered it from the other side.


    They were strangers to her, but from their perspective, their daughter had gone AWOL without so much as calling to let them know. For a moment, sympathy and remorse filled her.


    ¡°I¡¯m actually still at school. They have a wonderful library and I thought I¡¯d do my homework here. I must have lost all track of time. I¡¯m so sorry, I should have called, but my head¡¯s been full of air all day.¡±


    She meant very few of those words, but she knew the white lies would be necessary to calm the woman down, and indeed, it seemed to work. She heard Saki take several deep breaths as the news of such a benign explanation soothed all of the panic that must have been flooding her nerves.


    ¡°You really should have,¡± she still managed. ¡°I¡¯ve been terrified. I¡¯m so glad nothing¡¯s wrong. But don¡¯t you think it¡¯s time to come home?¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s alright, I still have a little math homework left, and the library is only open for about another half hour,¡± she provided back. ¡°I¡¯d like to finish it up before I head back.¡±


    ¡°That would be fine,¡± Saki permitted, ¡°but you must be hungry. You forgot your lunch.¡±


    She cringed as her stomach growled before she could stifle the thought. ¡°Ehehe,¡± she gave a sickly chuckle, sure the sound was going to get her a scolding from the librarian, but as her gaze went over, it seemed her stomach was only so loud in her own ears, as the woman was still bent over her own desk. ¡°Yeah, I noticed that right about lunchtime ¡­¡±


    Not that she knew there was a lunch to bring, of course, but she hadn¡¯t even actually stopped for any breakfast on the way to the school, either.


    When other students had started bringing out lunchboxes, she had followed those that didn¡¯t out the door, hoping to find the cafeteria. Instead, it seemed they were all heading to a food vendor that didn¡¯t have nearly enough of what everyone wanted, and the whole scene had been impenetrable chaos.


    In the end, she¡¯d returned to her classroom with nothing to show for it but a stop by the water fountains and the bathroom. By this late in the day, her stomach had largely resigned itself to its unsatisfying fate, but the reminder had roused its temper once more, even more miserable than before.


    Her words amused Saki, who chuckled over the line. ¡°Head full of air, indeed. Finish your work and come home, sweetie. It sounds like you wouldn¡¯t want to be late for dinner.¡±


    They exchanged a few conversation-ending pleasantries and she hung up, returning the display to a calculator once more.


    Saki seemed like such a nice, caring woman, she concluded as she put her pencil to the algebra once more. How was she supposed to sit down at a table and carry on a face-to-face conversation with her as if her daughter was the one sitting there?


    How could she do anything else that wouldn¡¯t just sound like crazy talk?


    She pushed these things from her mind with the weight of the homework in front of her. If she let herself worry about it, she¡¯d never finish, and probably make herself too sick to sit at the table in the first place.


    Her stomach grumbled sourly in agreement that such would be an utterly untenable solution.


    * * *


    The route to the campus and back had fortunately turned out to be quite simple, and well within walking distance. Even having only walked it once, she recognized it well enough in the growing twilight to retrace her steps.


    This was particularly fortunate since she had no idea what the neighborhood was like. If it hadn¡¯t been something she¡¯d passed on the way to school, she couldn¡¯t have located so much as a convenience store even if it were down the street from her house.


    Not that she had been able to find her way to the school, either. That had required the address from the letterhead and her phone¡¯s navigation app.


    She had passed an empty side street into the light of a street lamp that picked that moment to flicker on, and then she stopped.


    Yes, she was completely positive that the street had been empty, yet she didn¡¯t have to look back to tell it wasn¡¯t empty now. She could almost place it, right around the corner of the brick privacy fence. Yet if she looked, she knew instinctively it was going to mean trouble.


    How far was she from her house? A block and a half? The figure must have been a grown man. Could she outrun a grown man for a block and a half?


    Her gut told her that this, too, was a bad choice.


    All she could really do was start walking again, act normal, walk normally. Hope the figure backed out, or erred on caution to delay acting long enough for her to get a more sizable lead.


    He did neither, and his voice was inhumanly deep, as if someone was speaking through a voice changer at the back of a cavern. It made her stop in her tracks again, if only to prevent herself from bolting like a gazelle.


    ¡°And what has suddenly given you the belief that you can just walk away, witch?¡±

 Chapter Two

    (2)


    She turned to face whoever it was that was so quick with insults. His tone had left no doubt that she would not be putting distance between them, further trimming her options. This road wasn¡¯t completely dead, so perhaps she could stall him long enough--


    A flash of darkness against the twilight darted through where she had stood, shaving air as she twisted to the side. The glint of a long blade registered to her senses just before she dove into a squat as it turned and flew through the air over her head. The next instant, a large boot picked her from the ground and her lungs left their air behind as it sent her spinning away.


    She didn¡¯t know why he paused after that. His pose seemed to suggest he expected some sort of retaliation, but at least it gave her time to get back to her feet.


    A sword. This guy had a sword. This guy was trying to kill her with a sword.


    That whatever he was waiting for didn¡¯t come seemed to just enrage him all the more, and this time, she twisted the other way to avoid the vertical swing, then jumped back away from him again to avoid his follow-up rather than drop down to be used as a football again.


    He thrust and she turned. He slashed and she weaved. It was like literally dancing on a razor¡¯s edge, but she was getting a better picture of him, and that just solidified how little else she could do.


    ¡°Defend yourself!¡± The figure making the demand towered over her, seeming a true giant, though she couldn¡¯t be sure how much of that was her newfound discrepancy between her size and her perspective¡¯s frames of reference.


    ¡°I am!¡± she shouted back at him as if she had every right to be furious he would have the gall to attempt violent murder upon her person, rather than being terrified and looking for a route to flee.


    Two more strikes drove her back again, one taking a strand of hair. The guy was fast, with very little tell in advance of an attack. She wasn¡¯t quite sure how she¡¯d managed to avoid them so far, but she knew it wasn¡¯t something she could keep up. Each round got a little closer, and she couldn¡¯t shake the impression that was deliberate.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you fighting back?!¡± He cleaved for a change, and she dove to the side as it impacted the concrete hard enough to throw chunks of stone after her.


    ¡°Are you kidding me,¡± she demanded as she pulled herself from the ground. ¡°Have you looked at yourself? You¡¯re, like, seven feet tall and sporting full-body combat armor! I have a backpack! What do you expect me to do, punch your helmet?!¡±


    He thrust his sword firmly into the asphalt of the street beside him, and in a moment, he was in front of her, hauling her off of the ground by her blazer and shirt until the distance between her shoes and the sidewalk measured in feet.


    She got her arms inside of his and pried, but the armored limbs were like stone. She couldn¡¯t budge them in the slightest, no matter how she pushed or tugged against them. She had thought the black plates looked like what soldiers wore, but this close and still, she was reconsidering.


    As he leaned his head in inches from hers, she realized she still couldn¡¯t see his face within the frames of the helmet. There was just shadow there, and instead of eyes, red coals glowered back at her. ¡°You will not deny me! Transform, Thunder Witch!¡±


    In the face of helplessness, she felt rage bubbling up inside against this constant badgering, and she set her jaw in fury instead of impotence. All consideration of not offending her aggressor, if it had ever set in her mind, had fled.


    Her answer was deliberately slow and drawn out, as one speaking to someone stupid. ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Know. What. You¡¯re. Talking. About. Go back to your anime convention and let me go home! I haven¡¯t had a bite to eat all day and I¡¯m way too hungry to care what your malfunction is!¡±


    Little surprise her next sensation was of sailing through the air. She must have cleared the whole intersection before she impacted, catching the corner of the sidewalk hard enough to draw a cry of pain from her lips before she skipped into the air again and connected with another privacy wall.


    Her thrower moved to retrieve his sword before approaching her once more. ¡°Nariko Kelly,¡± he stated like a gavel as he approached her. ¡°Who are you and what did you do with the Thunder Witch?¡±


    He wasn¡¯t calling her by name, he was naming his prey.


    What did this guy have against her and why did he keep calling her a witch? This was too much. A family was one thing, there had to be one. She couldn¡¯t have come from nowhere. But why did she have a Psycho Ranger stalker with personal beef? Isn¡¯t that something that should have been in some sort of debriefing folder?


    Don¡¯t forget your admission papers! Oh, and look out for this guy, he really wants you dead, here¡¯s what to do if he corners you!


    She was still picking herself up and figuring out which direction her feet were facing, but she felt his frustration with her lack of answering growing palpable, so she found breath to answer anyway. ¡°I can¡¯t say.¡±


    Wrong answer.


    His boot came up right underneath her, bringing her clear of the ground again. This time, she came down on her back. ¡°You will say!¡±


    It took her longer to get the breath in her to answer this time, having to roll over and take several coughing gasps first. ¡°I can¡¯t!¡±


    She pounded the bottom of her fist against the ground in impotent frustration. ¡°You want to know who I am? I¡¯ve been trying to say it all day! Not that anyone would believe me if I could, but I wanted to look me up. I want to know what happened, too! I have a life of my own, you know!¡±


    His sword came up under her chin, lifting her face up. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your life, witch. Why did you steal my prey and what did you do with her?¡±


    ¡°You think I know?!¡± she demanded.


    Tears were in her eyes, but it was from fury and pain. She was just shouting now, lashing out the only way she could. She¡¯d have shoved the blade away if she wasn¡¯t holding herself up with one arm and holding her side where he¡¯d kicked her with the other.


    ¡°I can¡¯t even say my own name! I tried writing it, and there was just gibberish! You think I did something with your stupid girlfriend?¡±


    He was silent for a moment, but then the blade lowered slightly from her chin. ¡°No, you¡¯re just a changeling.¡± The blade dragged along the ground before he lifted it up in preparation to strike, only to pause again. ¡°I should kill you and rid the world of the inferior double.¡±


    She actually spat. She¡¯d thought they only did that in movies, but her mouth was full of fluid and she couldn¡¯t bring herself to bother swallowing. She was pretty sure there was some copper in it.


    ¡°I obviously can¡¯t do anything to stop you,¡± was her reply to his threat. She wasn¡¯t going to be dodging anymore, though she was pretty sure now it was less she was dodging and more that he wasn¡¯t trying to hit her.


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    The blow didn¡¯t come. ¡°It may be you are in her body, or in killing you, I might destroy my only path to my vengeance.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have an answer she could have given him if he even wanted one. Instead, after a moment, the sword lowered a bit out of its ready position.


    ¡°You will tell me everything you know about how you came to be, and then I will decide your fate.¡±


    She never had the chance to answer. He jumped back an instant before a flash of light splashed down across where he had been standing and both of their gazes went toward the source.


    A blonde girl in an outfit with too many ribbons and not enough skirt posed on top of the apartment building nearby. "You¡¯re not laying another hand on her, Da-kun!¡± Her pigtails trailed her spin as she suddenly changed pose. ¡°Back off or get blinded!¡±


    His grip audibly tightened on his sword. ¡°What did you call me?!¡±


    Instead of answering, she jumped from the third-story roof across ten meters to land in the road across from him, then charged him on foot as more light spilled out of her gripped palms.


    Their clashes left the girl on the sidewalk to her own devices, focusing her attention on taking slow, steady breaths until she was sure nothing was too broken to stand. She leaned against the privacy wall even after she got all the way to her feet and turned to watch the ridiculous scene happening in front of her.


    A magical girl duking it out with a wannabe Sith.


    She found herself analyzing the clashes between the two. He was a strong swordsman, but she was only a flashy fighter.


    The girl definitely had more power behind her blows than a normal human. When a wheel kick knocked the sword away, she could distinctly recall how rock-hard and unmoving the arms holding it had been when lifting her aloft.


    But the girl was expending too much energy in extra movement, relying on an advantage in speed she didn¡¯t really have to keep the man in armor on the back foot.


    There was no way it was going to last for long. Even interspersing blasts of light only gave the illusion of overrunning him. She could see from her outside perspective what was really happening.


    The armored man was fighting defensively, not because he had to, but because the magical girl was making it easier to do that than trying to match her aggression. She wasn¡¯t actually challenging his defense, only encouraging him to stay in it while she exhausted herself.


    The cuts were few at first, a little nick here, a graze there. Small enough that the girl foolishly ignored them to focus on her attacks. That was her fatal mistake. The more they added up, the more she received. The more she exhausted herself on her aggressive assault, the more she received. Yet the way he slipped them in, she plainly thought she was making more progress than she was losing.


    The outcome was obvious long before it arrived.  It was like watching an impending train wreck, and as impossible to look away from.


    It wasn¡¯t much longer before the magical girl broke off, trying to catch her breath. She noticed she was clutching her arm without registering it was from all of the cuts that had robbed it of its strength, but she didn¡¯t notice that her legs were shaking underneath her, as well. That was all the opening the armored man needed, and he lunged forward as he flipped his sword backwards.


    Even back on the sidelines, their single-member audience cringed in sympathy as the pommel struck the magical girl across the bridge of her nose.


    The swordsman moved to stand over the magical girl who was sprawled on the asphalt before him. ¡°I respect that you would jump in for another, but it¡¯s meaningless if you have no clue what you are doing. My blood thirsts only for combat against warriors. I have no interest in putting down senseless children.¡±


    On that note, he turned toward his initial target once more, fully turning his back to the magical girl. For half a heartbeat, she hoped she currently qualified as a senseless child.


    ¡°I want my answers,¡± he said instead, ¡°but if I insist on them now, the rest of them won¡¯t be far behind her, and I am loathe to be interrupted again. We¡¯ll settle this matter another time.¡±


    And then, just as suddenly as he¡¯d appeared around that corner, the armored man was gone again, leaving the two girls alone to recover.


    She went over to the blonde after a moment and knelt down next to her. Her body protested the motion, but not as strongly as it had earlier.


    ¡°Hey, you alright?¡±


    ¡°Ugh,¡± the blonde groaned as she clasped her nose, her voice a bit stuffed for it. ¡°Is it bleeding?¡±


    She glanced to the girl¡¯s gloved hand. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it. You might want to put some ice on it, though. And a lot of bandages over the rest of you if you don¡¯t want to ruin your sheets.¡±


    ¡°Ugh,¡± the girl repeated, ¡°I hate fighting Da-kun ¡­¡±


    ¡°Not really sure you could¡¯ve called that a fight,¡± she found herself disagreeing, and wasn¡¯t entirely surprised to see the magical girl tense up at those words.


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?!¡±


    ¡°You are ¡­¡± she paused, wondering just how to elaborate on it, then just decided to go completely straight with it, ¡°¡­ a terrible fighter. How long have you been doing this?¡±


    Of course, the bristling only got worse, but the magical girl seemed to think the question was rhetorical. ¡°Well, excuse me, I didn¡¯t exactly see the master warrior contributing much from over on the sidewalk.¡±


    That put a scowl on her face, too. ¡°Yeah, sorry, Sailor V, I was a little busy making sure I didn¡¯t leave any of my ribs behind.¡±


    The blonde sighed judgmentally as she sat up. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be such a baby, you¡¯ll be fine by morning.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I wasn¡¯t the one clutching my nose, just saying.¡±


    The magical girl shook her head. ¡°I get that you¡¯re in a bad mood for some reason, but that doesn¡¯t mean you get to take it out on me.¡±


    She shifted her legs to pull them under her, then turned to look more firmly at the brunette. ¡°So how did Da-kun manage to jump you like that, anyway? It¡¯s not like him to strike from ambush like that.¡±


    Instead of answering that question immediately, she went with, ¡°I don¡¯t think he likes it when you call him that.¡±


    That just made the magical girl grin. ¡°Which is exactly why I keep doing it! I may not be able to beat him in a fight, but I can still get under his skin!¡± Her expression cut back to serious. ¡°Really, though, what happened?¡±


    The feeling from that morning was coming back. In fact, she was starting to wish for the three strangers back. How much easier it would have been if that was the most ridiculous thing she had to deal with, after all? She had been so ungrateful for what was such a minor thing by comparison. Her life had been rewritten, certain things had to be.


    But this? What egregious meddling was this? Tying her to such lunatic antics? Homicidal knights? Magical girls? The merry-go-round wasn¡¯t just spinning, it was speeding up, and someone had strapped her to the bars.


    ¡°¡­ Riko?¡± It must have shown on her face, because the blonde girl leaned in toward her in concern.


    ¡­ As if she didn¡¯t already have more than enough reason to assume the girl knew her personally, reality had to spell it out. Nope. She was not doing this. Nope, nope, nopity nope.


    ¡°Wait, where are you going?!¡±


    Without even thinking about it, she¡¯d already gone to her feet and started to leave. Man, that was becoming a bad habit. The magical girl had called out to her in almost exactly the same confusion the man of the house had voiced just that morning.


    ¡°I, uh,¡± she fumbled for a moment, then swallowed without looking back at the blonde. ¡°I have to get home.¡±


    She had started forward again, but the magical girl found her feet too quickly and darted ahead of her to cut her off. ¡°Wait, hold on! What¡¯s gotten into you, Riko? You ditch me this morning, you never show at lunch, you leave me on the steps after school?¡±


    At the child¡¯s accusation, she furrowed her brows. ¡°¡­ What am I, your nanny?¡± she asked before she could even second-guess the words out of her mouth, despite plenty of reasons to do so. Not the least of which being, her mind reminded her, that, once more, she wasn¡¯t any older than the magical girl she''d just mentally labeled a child.


    The blonde barely paused in her tirade. It wouldn¡¯t have even been clear whether she heard the comment if her next accusation hadn¡¯t jumped in volume as if to override it.


    ¡°And then you stand there and have all that time I bought you to catch your breath, transform and help me, and you spend it watching him smash my face in, then come over and mock me for it! I¡¯m trying to be understanding, but you have to tell me! What have I done to make you so mad at me?!¡±


    The nausea was getting stronger, but unlike that morning, it was mixing with adrenaline this time. What had she done?! Hijacked her whole life and rewrote it to her whims without even the courtesy of warning, that¡¯s what!


    It didn¡¯t matter that, in truth, the odds of this girl having anything whatsoever with forcing the madness on her were all but nonexistent. She was present, she was handy, she was vaguely connected to the source of her discomfort, she was in her face, and most importantly of all, she wasn¡¯t wearing a helmet.


    It wasn¡¯t normally behavior she would ever condone, much less take part in, but at that moment, the camel¡¯s back broke and there was no way to take it back.


    The only thing more certain than her doubt that the fist she threw across the magical girl¡¯s face did any meaningful physical harm, what with the way her blonde head only turned with it, was how little she cared in that moment. She walked right on past the magical girl, and this time, the girl didn¡¯t follow.


    She didn¡¯t look back to see why. She was pretty sure she didn¡¯t want to see whatever the ribboned girl was doing instead. Her heart knew it would have been far worse for her than if she had turned and looked at the armored man.


    So she kept walking all the way back to her house and never looked back.

 Chapter Three

    (3)


    Three days.


    It had been three days in this new life, and so far, each one got a little easier. She had learned her ¡°father¡¯s¡± name was Marcus, and her little ¡°brother¡± was Kioshi, which was frequently shortened to Yoshi unless he was in trouble.


    The feelings of nausea when she was coming down in the morning or coming home after school had faded tremendously. The night before, she had even helped Saki, which had, indeed, been a shortened nickname of Misaki (and all nicknames Marcus¡¯ doing), with the evening dishes. Saki had asked about school, she had answered more or less honestly, and it felt good, it felt like a productive time.


    And best of all, no armored swordsmen or magical girls had intruded upon her day. Whatever psychological injury she inflicted on the blonde girl that night must have had profound effects to buy her so much time to herself. She briefly entertained gratitude that she did not, in fact, have any idea who these people were, lest she be wracked by feelings of guilt for what she¡¯d so selfishly delivered upon the girl.


    And then she shut her school shoes in her locker, turned around in her outdoor shoes for heading home, and found a very familiar shade of yellow filling her vision.


    ¡­ Well, balls. She supposed it really was too much to have expected it to last forever.


    The pigtails were more grounded in reality, and instead of a miniskirt decorated by a five year old who had found her mother¡¯s ribbon stash, she wore the school uniform, and her neckerchief indicated they were in the same year. After a moment of reflection, she was certain she never saw the blonde in her own classroom, so she must have been in one of the others.


    Despite all of the differences, however, she would¡¯ve had to be completely blind to not have been able to tell the girl fidgeting in front of her was the same one from her first night.


    ¡°Riko,¡± the blonde started hesitantly, ¡°this isn¡¯t just me asking this time ¡­ We¡¯ve all noticed you haven¡¯t been acting like yourself, and Sarasa has decided to call a meeting. For your own sake.¡± That last line was said quickly, and then she stalled a bit longer, her neck twitching like she wanted to flinch away before she finished. ¡°¡­ Will you come?¡±


    She¡¯d half-expected something like this eventually, and was a little surprised it wasn¡¯t her ¡°family¡± that had brought it up first. Maybe she¡¯d been close enough at home for it to get brushed off as a high school debut revision.


    But whoever ¡°we¡± were clearly interacted with her enough to know better. The swordsman had implied there was a full magical girl team. That must have been what this was all about, with this Sarasa being the leader.


    She supposed she owed them at least that much. Well, maybe not personally owed them, but she was still using their friend¡¯s identity. Really, if she were to be honest instead of making rationalizations, seeing how skittish the blonde was behaving had really thrown her in the guilt pillory after all.


    ¡°Sure, of course,¡± she agreed. ¡°When?¡±


    It was amazing how not lashing out at someone could make them less terrified of you, go figure. ¡°Right after school.¡± The blonde noticed her eyebrow go up at the time. ¡°Sorry! I¡¯ve been trying to find a time to bring it up to you all day, but I wanted to wait for a time when you wouldn¡¯t be upset and I¡¯ve had a hard time reading you since ¡­¡±


    The blonde turned her head away, and raised her hand halfway as if to unconsciously rub her cheek, but caught herself and put it back down. She didn¡¯t seem to want to elaborate on their last interaction, either.


    ¡°I ¡­ understand,¡± was all she could come up with to say. ¡°I¡¯ll have to call my mother and let her know. She¡¯s been worried if I don¡¯t come straight home without calling since I lost track of time the first day of school.¡±


    When the blonde nodded, she pulled out the phone and opened her contacts to go through to Home. There were other names she didn¡¯t recognize, but that hadn¡¯t really surprised her. Then she paused as she realized Saki would want to know where she was going, but obviously the blonde considered the destination a usual one that didn¡¯t need specification.


    Where did Nariko Kelly usually go? Her mind went back to the locations her mother had said she called when trying to find her. ¡°The fountain shop, right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± the girl gave with another nod, sending the bonbons at the end of her tails to bouncing.


    A close save, she thought to herself as the phone began to ring. Thank heavens for gushing mothers, or else there was no way she could have gotten out of that without drawing suspicion.


    * * *


    Unsurprisingly, very little was said as they walked, and the whole atmosphere was awkward and uncomfortable. Obviously, she had literally nothing to offer in the realm of small talk, and it was clear that neither of them wanted to talk about the one interaction she could actually draw upon.


    Still, she got the impression that the blonde was usually quite chatty. She didn¡¯t miss the signs of the girl repeatedly trying to start talking about something that came to mind, only to chicken out.


    Finally, she thought perhaps it would make it easier if she came up with something, anything, to say and break the silence. ¡°How are your classes so far?¡±


    The blonde girl scoffed good-naturedly and wheeled on her with a smirk. ¡°What are you, my nanny?¡±


    Unfortunately, the last time those words had been uttered wasn¡¯t a pleasant memory for either, and both stopped in their tracks. The blonde¡¯s eyes went to saucers as she recalled it, and the brunette broke her gaze.


    ¡°O-oh, look,¡± the blonde changed the topic, motioning ahead of them. ¡°We¡¯re here! I¡¯ll bet everyone else beat us here!¡±


    ¡°Here¡± was a cozy-looking soda shop, like the designer had tried to both embrace and modernize the decades-old concept. It seemed popular enough, with modern pop music coming over the jukebox and a number of tables occupied by various groups of students.


    Fortunately, the blonde led the way right to the necessary table. ¡°Hey! Sorry we¡¯re late!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± a girl with red hair replied, looking up from a menu before sliding aside an already empty cup. ¡°Tamashini hasn¡¯t shown yet, either, probably got roped into council stuff.¡±


    A small-framed girl she recognized as the one that sat in front of her in class raised her glasses-clad face up at that. ¡°Have we elected a council yet?¡±


    Red leaned back in her chair with a scoff, crossing her legs as she hooked her arms over the wings of the high back. ¡°Like that would matter.¡±


    But there was a teacher here, her history teacher, in fact. Miss Sada, remarkable for her pure white hair despite her youthful appearance, only looked a little out of place among the freshmen. With her crop jacket and jeans, she could have passed for a visiting college student if she took a mind to do so.


    ¡°Please sit properly, Miss Homura. I know we¡¯re not in class, but it makes you look like a hoodlum.¡± She turned toward the two newcomers and smiled, strikingly motherly for her features. ¡°No need to keep standing, you two. We can get started without Reina if you¡¯d like. I took the liberty of ordering your usuals, my treat.¡±


    That was probably for the best, she thought as she watched the blonde girl eagerly hurry ahead at that and followed at a slower pace after her. Regardless of what she might usually order, this would provide important information for keeping her head down in the future and avoided awkward glances now.


    She doubted it would be something she didn¡¯t like. After all, even her handwriting had changed. Flavor profiles seemed small potatoes next to that, and she recalled that youth were supposed to have different taste buds, anyway. If anything, there was a larger chance she wouldn¡¯t have cared for whatever she might have ordered on her own.


    Miss Sada¡¯s warm smile stayed on her all of the way over even as she unshouldered her backpack and set it beside the table. On some level, it felt penetrative, like the teacher was already unfolding all of the nonsense from the last three days without having to hear about it, but it would be impossible to say why. No matter how she looked at it, the gaze was only warm and comforting.


    Still, the teacher said nothing until she sat down, and she couldn¡¯t shake the idea that it was halfway a trap closing on her leg. ¡°We haven¡¯t really spoken with one another since the school year began, have we? How are you feeling, Nariko?¡±


    ¡°Like I¡¯m being coddled ahead of an intervention,¡± she answered after only the briefest of pauses. No sense lying on that one. Even if the blonde hadn¡¯t made it pretty obvious this whole get-together was about her, the tone around the table was pretty unmistakable.


    The other girls looked a bit uncomfortable at such bluntness, but Miss Sada only chuckled at the answer in easy amusement. ¡°Is that making you uncomfortable?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t surprise me, but you should probably ask the rest of the table. You look like the only one it doesn¡¯t make uncomfortable here.¡±


    The teacher sipped from her glass of soda before replying. ¡°They may be uncomfortable, but interventions are an ultimate expression of love, those who care about you gathering together to ally against your oblivion and pull you back from the ledge as one.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not actually here for an intervention, though?¡± It was Red, er, Homura, that spoke up, as if Miss Sada¡¯s waxing poetic had put their cause for being here into question.


    Though her smile stayed on her face, Miss Sada put off answering as a waitress came over with a tray of drinks, and started putting them in front of specific girls without having to ask what went where. Truly, they were clearly regulars.


    ¡°Strawberry malt,¡± the waitress said, placing a tall milkshake topped with whipped cream and sprinkled with something brown that was probably cinnamon on the table before the brunette¡¯s wide eyes.


    ¡°Banana,¡± was next, which she set before the blonde, who was already licking her lips and giving a little clap.


    ¡°Grape Nehi.¡± This one was a deep purple soda put before the girl with glasses, who moved her lips in something that was probably an expression of gratitude, but was too quiet to be heard.


    ¡°And a cherries jubilee refill for Natsumi.¡±


    This was apparently a surprise, as Red actually sat back up to the table at the sight of the milkshake. ¡°Oh, Haya, you¡¯re a mind-reader!¡±


    The waitress just grinned at this. ¡°More like I set a timer after you got the first one, gluttonous little sister.¡±


    Now that it was mentioned, the brunette could see the family resemblance between the two. So this was Red¡¯s family¡¯s place, that explained why it was the group¡¯s hangout of choice.


    The waitress ¨C Haya ¨C turned to the teacher. ¡°Ready for a refill yet, Miss Sada?¡±


    ¡°Oh, not quite yet, thank you,¡± she answered graciously. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t bring myself to go through these things as fast as the girls.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a problem,¡± was the reply, ¡°you just wave me down when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    Once the waitress left for other tables, Miss Sada turned back to them with her smile still intact. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course, Miss Homura, this is technically not an intervention, though to be fair to her, it is near enough for that to likely be a technicality from her perspective.¡±


    The mind of the girl in question, however, was briefly elsewhere. The strawberry malt surprised her with how appealing it was, sitting before her in all of its rose glory, and she took a long pull from the super-wide straw provided.


    It should have slammed into her mouth like a sickeningly sweet fist, but instead it was like a pianist¡¯s fingers dancing over all of the right taste buds. For a moment, the room around her disappeared in a strawberry tide, and she was deep into a second pull before she registered it.


    ¡°Riko, be careful!¡± It was the blonde, reaching over and touching her arm. ¡°You¡¯ll give yourself a headache!¡±


    Despite the low temperature inside her mouth, she felt her cheeks heat up. ¡°Ah, sorry--¡± she stuttered as the world returned to her senses. ¡°It¡¯s just so good ¡­¡±


    Red was arching an eyebrow at the spectacle. ¡°You act like you¡¯ve never had a milkshake before.¡±


    ¡°Ehehe ¡­¡± Was that always how she had laughed when embarrassed? ¡°Not since school started, to be sure.¡±


    The glasses girl had uniquely black hair, she noticed for what might have been the first time. In the right light, it seemed a shade of blue, like gunmetal. ¡°Three days is long enough to give you malt withdrawal?¡±


    ¡°If I had known this was what she needed, I¡¯d have been making sure she got it every day!¡± The blonde smiled brilliantly at her. ¡°This is the most like your old self I¡¯ve seen you in days!¡±


    It struck her just how much the blonde girl must have been worrying about her, and it brought her down a little, though she kept the smile on her face for the sake of the blonde girl¡¯s smile. ¡°The magic of sugar, I guess.¡±


    Was this really how they were accustomed to her acting? It made sense, she¡¯d been behaving like a burdened adult stuck somewhere she wasn¡¯t supposed to be, but if she were an easy-going high school student? Yeah, she could see how this would be more natural behavior for her.


    ¡°As sweet as that is,¡± Miss Sada put in without even pausing to dwell on the pun, ¡°I have a suspicion the issues at hand go a little deeper than hypoglycemia.¡± She turned toward the brunette. ¡°Even Miss Wakumi has noticed how unusual you¡¯ve been the last few days, dear.¡±


    She didn¡¯t gesture, but the gunmetal girl clearly understood it as passing the floor to her. She nodded with her cut brushing her shoulders. It seemed to take her some effort to speak at a decent volume.


    ¡°Nariko has been quiet, studious, unobtrusive ¡­ I asked her for a pencil the first day, and she just let me have it. She didn¡¯t try to talk to me further or gossip or anything.¡± The gunmetal girl lowered her head a bit. ¡°It was nice.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have the heart to tell Wakumi that was because she had been too lost in her own affairs and was largely oblivious to the quiet girl¡¯s very existence.


    Homura had no such inhibitions. ¡°In other words, everything she¡¯s never been.¡± She crossed her arms as if annoyed by the idea, or the trouble and time it was costing her. ¡°Those are red flags, Ran, not your cue to get a girlcrush.¡±


    ¡°Sorry ...¡± the gunmetal girl apologized, dropping her head again with a blush. Wait, she knew that wasn¡¯t literal, right?


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    She realized she¡¯d latched onto the straw again because the question made her stop as it occurred to her. Clearly, strawberry malt was a dangerous substance. She pulled away from it slightly and took a moment to organize what she knew.


    Aside from the blonde girl, she had now heard the names of everyone at the table. None of them were Sarasa, the one who had called the meeting. No, wait, that wasn¡¯t true. There was one person at the table, again excepting the blonde girl who had mentioned the name, that she didn¡¯t know the first name of.


    Was Miss Sada really the leader of a team of magical girls? If so, it was an incredibly unlikely convenience that she was also a teacher for them, a plausible authority figure that could ply that whenever needed with other authority figures. Was one of those two identities more true than the other, then? Was she their leader because she was a teacher and took on that responsibility, or was she their teacher because she had arranged to be so?


    Of course, this line of inquiry inevitably brought her gaze around to the teacher. Instead of the teacher having to notice she was being looked at, the brunette had hardly glanced her way before Miss Sada instantly locked eyes, giving a reassuring smile that again struck her with a motherly sensation.


    But that was starting to get unnerving rather than comforting.


    She was fairly sure it hadn¡¯t shown on her face, but the moment she registered the sensation of discomfort, Miss Sada¡¯s own face immediately changed expression again. The teacher¡¯s bet for round two was a bright, toothy smile.


    No, that didn¡¯t help, it was too sudden, the shift only made it worse.


    Again, Miss Sada¡¯s expression changed as if she recognized this. Thankfully, it seemed that she was ceasing trying to make pleasing faces since it was making the problem worse. This final time, she went for a normal smile with a slight apology to it before breaking gaze and sipping again from her ginger ale.


    Yeah, no, Miss Sada was definitely a witch, too, or whatever was going on with the group. The possibility that the woman had been actively manipulating at least the brunette¡¯s own emotional state with that motherly air only made it worse.


    Miss Sada also seemed aware of the result and what the girl was feeling at the time. Maybe it was just coincidence and she was just being paranoid, but she¡¯d been twisted around enough lately that even the chance was enough to unnerve her further.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s just trying to take high school seriously!¡± It was the blonde girl, the conversation was still ongoing and she had clearly been driven to take up her defense. ¡°We¡¯re not in middle school anymore, after all. When you think of it like that, we should all be treating it more seriously.¡±


    That seemed to dampen the redhead, who sighed and deflated a bit back into her chair. ¡°Yeah, when you put it that way, we¡¯re only three years from college admission tests. I don¡¯t like thinking of that so fast, though. The beginning of high school seems a little early to be worrying about the very end of it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s never too early to plan for the future,¡± Miss Sada put in as if an idle spectator to the conversation, ¡°but spending three years burying yourself in worry won¡¯t do as much as you¡¯d think to prepare yourself for it.¡±


    She leaned forward onto the table. ¡°Well, Miss Kelly?¡± she asked, turning her gaze to her once more. ¡°Is that all it is? Just taking high school too seriously?¡±


    The emotional effect of the gaze was notably almost entirely gone. Not completely gone, of course. There was a clear absence of hostility in it, and even an undertone of concern, but the overwhelming impression of motherly love had slipped away, or subdued itself. No doubt for her benefit.


    Nevertheless, the gaze said something else. It wasn¡¯t accusatory, it didn¡¯t say it thought she was planning on lying, but it did seem to make it clear it would know if she did.


    She broke sight with it and stared into the depths of the cup instead, stirring it with the straw as she gathered her thoughts and chose her words.


    ¡°It¡¯s part of it,¡± and that was true. She understood better than anyone actually her age how important it was to not procrastinate on school work, or to get into the habit of disregarding individual components of it as less important or something she could catch up on later. If she had to start over as a student, she was determined to handle that correctly.


    ¡°But not why you¡¯ve been avoiding Miss Chiaki,¡± the history teacher easily prodded her along, ¡°or why you didn¡¯t aid her in fending off Dakunaito.¡±


    On the bright side, she now had two more names. This had been hugely informative in that regard. On the other hand, this was getting immensely dangerous very quickly. Miss Sada knew too much to be willing to settle for half-answers. She had no desire to sound like a lunatic, or to upset someone who obviously had mental powers.


    But what could she say? This wasn¡¯t the first time the line of questioning this was heading for had come up, after all, and she already knew she was physically incapable of giving sufficient answers. Even if she could, she would still sound mad. Without them, she would only sound even worse.


    She was now staring exclusively at the swirling contents of the glass, her chin on her other arm. ¡°I couldn¡¯t,¡± she provided, complete truth, then followed with a mostly-truth. ¡°He¡¯d already been kicking me around. By the time she showed up, I was spending the whole time getting myself together.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± the blonde confirmed. Though she was also morosely staring, her at a spiral on the table, it seemed she couldn¡¯t resist speaking up for her friend despite them both knowing the memory they were coming up on. ¡°She was pretty beaten up when I got there.¡±


    Little surprise the mood shift didn¡¯t go unnoticed. Even Red wasn¡¯t completely convinced. ¡°So you¡¯ve been avoiding everyone ever since just because you were ashamed you actually lost a fight? Come on, you lived, so it couldn¡¯t have been too bad.¡±


    Poor, quiet Ran, at what was obviously great discomfort to her to be so assertive, had to contribute, as well. ¡°And the attack was at the end of the first day, which she had already spent not showing up to anything.¡±


    Silent curses against their intuition ceased in a moment as she suddenly realized she had a path out.


    She had already claimed to have been disoriented and distracted that day. She¡¯d left her house far too early, she forgot her lunch, she wandered around during the lunch break, and she forgot to call home when she impulsively stayed at the library too long, frightening her mother.


    First day jitters were an easy excuse that would explain the first day, and then Natsumi had unknowingly provided the excuse for the rest.


    She opened her mouth and inhaled to speak.


    ¡­ And choked on the air when Miss Sada looked at her. How a gaze could simultaneously hold no hostility and still so much emphasis on keeping one honest was bewildering, but it no doubt felt like a field mouse that realized an oddly vegetarian hawk had seen it. With the lie shriveled and dead upon her tongue, she was forced to reconsider.


    This time, the pause went for much longer, and they permitted it without interruption. It was obvious that she was thinking carefully about what to say rather than avoiding answering.


    Of course, she had to consider not just what she would say, but how she would say it and how they were liable to respond. Even if she couldn¡¯t lie if she wanted to, thanks to Miss Sada¡¯s gaze still drilling down on her, she still didn¡¯t want to just blurt out poorly considered answers that made her look insane.


    She pulled from the strawberry malt for a little more sugary confidence.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t avoiding any of you, not really,¡± she finally answered, half-consciously wrapping the glass close to her with her arm as she idly fiddled with the straw. ¡°I just ¡­ didn¡¯t know.¡±


    And how could she? She couldn¡¯t have known there was a meeting when she didn¡¯t even know the people at the meeting existed.


    ¡°But we¡¯d been talking about it since the end of middle school,¡± Homura countered critically. ¡°If you want lunch to yourself, that¡¯s your own business, I guess, but Tamashini has had the club paperwork filed and everything ready for us since the teachers opened their offices.¡±


    She anticipated as much, honestly. This was obviously something the group had planned before the school year since nobody had brought it up, yet they expected her to know about it. It certainly followed this world¡¯s inclination to make decisions for her on its own and conveniently never inform her of it.


    Clearly, for some reason, she was expected to know all of this as if she had been part of it. Maybe that was because this was simply a continuous life she was slipped into the middle of and whatever powers that be couldn¡¯t be bothered to just make her a transfer student or something. Or perhaps she was supposed to receive new memories, but for some reason, they never made the trip. There was no way to even hazard a guess at this point.


    Heck, no reason to assume this was some sort of cartoon, magic and monsters aside. Maybe she just hit her head and was making it all up. In any case, it had no impact on the immediate situation of trying to figure out how to navigate the result.


    ¡°I¡¯d been disoriented all day,¡± she answered with full sincerity. ¡°I honestly had very little awareness of anything, just ¡­ drifting through the whole time, hardly half a clue of what to do with myself.¡± This was one hundred percent the truth.


    She gave a silent mental apology to the Wakumi girl for how she was about to sacrifice her for her own sake, and motioned across the table. ¡°But at least one of you knew exactly where I was all day long for the last three days, and nobody ever said so much as boo. Instead, you all wait and gang up on me here.¡±


    She had to watch as Ran¡¯s form guiltily collapsed in on itself knowing she was the one to inflict it on the frail-looking girl. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ¡­¡± the gunmetal girl said for the second time.


    The scene got under Red¡¯s skin, as well, clearly, as she bristled practically like a hedgehog, unable to remain seated. ¡°That goes both ways, you know!¡± Homura slapped the table for emphasis, though strangely, nobody, even at adjacent tables seemed to notice. ¡°You never approached us, either! Or did you forget that we were supposed to be a team when everything else drained out of your head?!¡±


    Yes, as a matter of fact, that was exactly what had happened, and in being brow-beaten by the redhead, she nearly retorted in exactly those words. Instead, she swallowed her knee-jerk retort, took a deep breath, and came to her feet, as well.


    Miss Sada¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change at all, just continuing to stare right at her with the same bemused face. Everyone else at the table, however, seemed to inhale as they fell silent. Was she already known for some sort of temper? Or perhaps clashes between her and Natsumi were common and prone to at least volume.


    The blonde girl looked worried, and the gunmetal girl seemed to want to hide under the table. Homura, however, remained steadfast, her eyes dancing with crystal fire in the light of the fountain shop as if daring her to challenge her. Whoever might normally be the one to break them up either wasn¡¯t present or was letting it ride.


    So it seemed to surprise both other girls when she exhaled instead and returned to her seat. ¡°Sit down, Red.¡±


    ¡°What did you call me?¡± Homura balled her fist as if offended.


    She shot her a glare instead. ¡°You¡¯re making a scene.¡±


    She actually looked around the room to see if people were noticing, but at seeing that they continued to be oblivious to the exchange as she seemed to expect, the redhead wheeled back. ¡°What are you talking about?!¡±


    Well, that explained that. It wasn¡¯t just her, they really were oblivious, and something the group was accustomed to. Probably why they were willing to talk so openly in a public place. It wouldn¡¯t surprise her, now that she knew she was dealing with supposed witches, that there was, in fact, some sort of magic at work to keep the rest of the establishment from registering anything strange.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if they notice it or not,¡± she replied coldly after taking another drink of her own to make the redhead wait for an answer. ¡°Making a scene is making a scene. Sit down.¡±


    That clearly put Natsumi on the back foot and flustered her as she tried to formulate a response, but she was too stubborn to bend just yet. ¡°I-- ¡­ Not until you answer the question!¡±


    ¡°What question?¡± she demanded in return. ¡°You want me to confirm what I forgot when my head was drained? Hmm? Is that the question you want me to answer?¡±


    ¡°You know what I mean!¡± To Homura¡¯s credit, the pause had only been a moment long. ¡°If something was wrong, why didn¡¯t you come to us?! You¡¯ve been asked that three times now!¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ve answered it three times!¡± It was starting to get on her nerves, in fact. ¡°So why do you keep pestering me with it?!¡± Finally, she wheeled on the teacher and pointed her index finger at her, though Miss Sada¡¯s expression remained unflappable. ¡°And stop staring at me!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just trying to help you, Riko.¡± The blonde was obviously attempting to be soothing and calm a fight that was clearly starting to spread.


    It was the wrong thing to say. This time, she slammed the table with both hands, hard enough to threaten to topple the glasses on it. ¡°Well, you¡¯re NOT helping!¡±


    The table went dead silent. Even Miss Sada¡¯s bemused expression vanished. But it wasn¡¯t because she¡¯d finally snapped and shouted at someone. It was because, when she did it, the blonde girl flinched away from her.


    In the silence, the brunette wilted and withdrew her hands from the table to return into her seat, lowering her head and refusing to meet the gaze of the rest of the table.


    It seemed to stretch for an age before anyone could say anything, but the next time Homura spoke, it was in a different tone. She spoke like she no longer knew the person she was addressing. ¡°Riko ¡­ What did you do to Haru?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± It was the blonde that answered, desperately and loudly pleading defense. ¡°It just startled me, that¡¯s all, Homura! That¡¯s all!¡±


    ¡°I hit her.¡± Her voice was quieter, and yet seemed to reach across the table with greater distance than the blonde girl¡¯s near-shouting. ¡°I was confused, frustrated and in pain. I was getting hit with a barrage of questions I couldn¡¯t answer for the second time without relenting. I never should have done it. In my right mind, I never would have. I wasn¡¯t myself.¡±


    ¡°If not you, then who were you, I wonder?¡± Miss Sada¡¯s eyes no longer had that piercing effect, and her expression was only filled with concern for her students. Bemusement was absolutely nowhere to be seen any longer.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine!¡± Haru was trying again to defend her to the table. ¡°I was transformed, Riko wasn¡¯t. She couldn¡¯t have hurt me if she had been trying!¡±


    The table barely seemed able to hear her, and Homura had broken her gaze from the brunette once more. ¡°No wonder you didn¡¯t want to show your face anywhere after that. Haru would have been wherever we were, and how could you have faced her?¡±


    Miss Sada spoke again, though it was more constructive this time. ¡°If she was delirious enough to do something like that, it¡¯s no wonder she couldn¡¯t transform to defend herself against Dakunaito. The mental acuity to maintain the spell just wouldn¡¯t have been there.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± Ran spoke up, barely more than a whisper as she stared into her remaining quarter glass of soda, ¡°of all people on both sides, how could you in any state of mind ever bring yourself to strike her?¡±


    Her energy was gone. She couldn¡¯t even muster the strength to lie anymore. Let it all burn. She just sat there with her arms on the table and her head hanging, like a puppet with her strings cut.


    ¡°Because I had no idea who she was.¡±


    It was even quieter than when she confessed to hitting the blonde, like she just couldn¡¯t bring herself to speak loudly.


    It might as well have been a gong at the table. Their faces were stunned all over again, unable to believe what they¡¯d just heard. This was something even Haru, who had been there, hadn¡¯t known, hadn¡¯t had any idea of, and she stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the words.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Nariko, dear.¡± Miss Sada no longer looked the know-it-all spectator. For a moment, she looked as lost in impossibility as the girls around her. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°I said I had no idea who she was!¡± This was louder, and she raised her face as if regaining life, tensing her arms as she leaned her weight into the table. ¡°I still don¡¯t! I don¡¯t know any of you! I don¡¯t even know who Nariko Kelly is!¡±


    She wheeled on Homura, and this time, the redhead recoiled instead of defying her. ¡°Is that what you wanted to hear, Red, you wannabe Sailor Mars? That you¡¯ve been sharing a table with a stranger?! Because I¡¯ve been doing it for three freaking days!¡±


    She went around and pointed at each person at the table in turn, starting with Haru, then Ran, then Natsumi and finally Miss Sada. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, or who you are, or who you are, or who you are!¡± Her finger stayed on the teacher. ¡°But I¡¯m pretty sure I don¡¯t like you!¡±


    That seemed to cause a flash of pain to go across the history teacher¡¯s face, but she was beyond caring, and she wheeled back to the table as a whole.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who this Tamashini is, either, or why in the world this Dakunaito guy has five feet of steel beef with me! And when I leave here after you¡¯re all finished interrogating me, I¡¯m going to a house that has a family that I also don¡¯t know!


    ¡°The man, his wife, their little boy, they all think they know who I am, they think I¡¯ve grown up in their care, they think I love them! And I¡¯m going to go pretend that¡¯s the case so they don¡¯t throw me in an asylum when they find out I don¡¯t know them from Mahatma Gandhi!¡±


    She took a moment to refresh her breath as she gazed over her audience, each of them looking like they were at a horror show. ¡°I didn¡¯t transform because I don¡¯t know how!¡± Then her finger began making the rounds a second time.


    She pointed at Haru. ¡°I didn¡¯t go to school with you or eat lunch with you because I didn¡¯t have any clue I was supposed to!¡±


    Then at Ran. ¡°I just gave you a pencil instead of chewing your ear off because I don¡¯t spark up random conversations with complete strangers!¡±


    Then to Natsumi. ¡°And I didn¡¯t come to your stupid club where you pretend to be superheroes because I had no idea any of this complete and utter nonsense existed! As far as my mind is concerned, it didn¡¯t exist before I woke up three days ago on the first day for a school I¡¯ve never attended!¡±


    She finally turned back to Miss Sada, her chest heaving with her shouting and impotent rage and all of the adrenaline it sparked. ¡°Is that enough truth for you, teacher? Hmm? Don¡¯t want to be pinning me with that gaze you were using?¡± Her voice was beginning to raise again. ¡°Want some more information? Maybe want me to write a paper on it?!¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± It was actually Haru whose voice pierced the rant. ¡°Riko, please, that¡¯s enough.¡± She looked exhausted, head down, her forehead actually sweating. Her next words were much quieter. ¡°Stop. Please.¡±


    In the ensuing silence, it struck her how uncanny it was that the rest of the restaurant was still chattering in complete obliviousness to all of this, but she couldn¡¯t continue, not with the way the girl pleaded. Still, her chest continued to burn just trying to hold it in, so instead, she just snatched up her milkshake, finished off the last of the strawberry malt and put it back on the table, no doubt harder than necessary.


    ¡°Thank you for the food,¡± was all she said, presumably to the teacher, but she didn¡¯t actively direct it at anyone. Then she bent down and scooped her backpack over one shoulder, starting off.


    ¡°W-wait!¡± It was actually Miss Sada that got her wits back first. ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going home,¡± she replied. Though she paused as bidden, she didn¡¯t look back at them. ¡°I think we can all agree this intervention session is a wash.¡±


    She was nearly to the door when it opened ahead of her and a tall girl stepped in. She wore the same uniform at the others, though her neckerchief identified her as a year ahead. She had a regal bearing and a wise aura. While Ran¡¯s hair was gunmetal blue in the right light, this girl¡¯s long, thigh-length hair was completely pitch black in any light. She turned toward the brunette and there was recognition in her eyes.


    There was also recognition in the brunette¡¯s eyes, and she froze in her tracks, eyes wide. ¡°You ¡­¡± Her mouth moved as if she were trying to say something more, but nothing came from it, as if she were dumbstruck.


    Confusion filled the older student¡¯s face. ¡°¡­ Yes ¡­ I ¡­ am sorry I was late.¡± She turned on the spot as the brunette tried to circle around her without breaking eye contact, like she was watching a venomous snake. ¡°¡­ I was helping prepare documents for the council.¡±


    The brunette kept going, however, only breaking gaze when a boy came in through the door she had her back toward.


    ¡°Oh! Hey! Watch--¡±


    She didn¡¯t show any sign of hearing the boy at all, only wheeling about, elbowing past him and darting out the door like she was fleeing for her life.


    The raven-haired girl stared blankly after her for a long moment before turning back toward the others. ¡°¡­ What was that about?¡±


    The others at the table looked just as bewildered, but Natsumi managed to shake her head. ¡°She was saying she lost her memory. Said the reason she had been acting weird was because she doesn¡¯t remember any of us.¡±


    Tamashini turned back toward the door again as it eased shut. ¡°She certainly seemed to recognize me, but I don¡¯t believe I have ever been looked at with such horror. One would think she had seen a ghost.¡±

 Chapter Four

    (4)


    She cursed herself as her feet pounded down the sidewalk. She was still running, but out of frustration with herself rather than the sudden strike of fear that had driven her from the soda shop.


    It wasn¡¯t all that long ago that she had mentally described herself as behaving like an out of place adult, and then she had such an outburst. She had said she didn¡¯t want to be thought of as insane, and then conducted herself like a madwoman. The only thing she was seeming to be a master of was hypocrisy.


    But what was that woman doing there? Well, a girl, really, and she hadn¡¯t looked that much older when--


    Her brain recoiled and fuzzed out from the reference, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut to clear it.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to put together that she had been Reina Tamashini, the absent member of the group, though she had no name to put to the face before--


    Agh, there it went again! The vision of where she was running disappeared as she clenched her face and closed her eyes again. It wasn¡¯t painful when it happened, but it was a quick way to dizziness and disorientation if she dwelt too long in that pre-awakening fog.


    It was like trying to remember nothing, not like the concept of nothing or literally recalling nothing, but actually envisioning the essence of nothing. Except it wasn¡¯t nothing, stuff was there, but it wasn¡¯t. Just noise, except there was no noise. Fittingly, there was no suitable way to describe the nothing that both was and was not all that had come before.


    Reina only seemed to recognize her as Nariko, though. On the other hand, that probably shouldn¡¯t be remotely surprising, assuming the raven-haired upperclassman had any recollection of that past in the first place. It clearly hadn¡¯t happened in the here and now, and she hadn¡¯t looked like this then. Oh, gosh, even thinking of it glancingly produced a buzz across her brain.


    She let herself slow to a stop just before an intersection, watched some cars pass as she caught her breath, then headed forward again when the walk light came on. A playground was nearby, empty currently, and she walked over to a swing. She gave it a couple pushes, then caught it and sat down.


    She expected to be more scrunched in it, but Nariko¡¯s body was small enough that wasn¡¯t the case. Instead, she gave a few kicks, just letting herself sway and think about nothing for a few long moments.Not about her horrific display, not about what they might do with it, not with Reina¡¯s arrival. Just nothing.


    It wasn¡¯t working very well, honestly.


    ¡°Oh my, you look a little down, sweetie.¡±


    There had been that feeling of sudden appearance she had felt when Dakunaito first confronted her, but the voice was a woman¡¯s. When she looked up, there were both a woman and a man in seemingly elaborate costumes, both of their faces covered with oval masks that concealed their features. Their clothes were nonsense, but could be said to resemble an ivory suit with blue lines on the man and some sort of festival dress in wine red on the woman.


    What really set her on edge were the number of daggers the man casually twiddled amid his fingers, and whenever the woman moved her hands, there seemed to be some kind of line between them.


    ¡°Oh, I doubt she recognizes you, darling,¡± the man said in a smooth, elitist accent.


    The woman tilted her head toward him without either turning away from her. ¡°Oh?¡± she asked, as if this were a line from a skit. ¡°Whyever would that be, dear?¡±


    ¡°I heard,¡± he replied as he spun one blade around his index finger, ¡°that a little black bird was going around saying she¡¯d lost her memories!¡±


    ¡°How terrible,¡± the woman feigned, raising one hand up before where her mouth would be. ¡°Losing one¡¯s memory! How horribly lost and confusing that must be!¡±


    ¡°I also heard,¡± he added slyly, ¡°that it means she can¡¯t transform.¡±


    ¡°Tragic!¡± the woman exclaimed. ¡°Whatever would the poor child do if some unscrupulous demon came along and took advantage of such an opportunity to put her out of her misery?¡±


    ¡°Oh darling,¡± he agreed, ¡°perhaps we should find out?¡±


    When she jumped to her feet in preparation to defend herself, however, the woman just laughed. ¡°Oho, memories or no, she does seem to still possess a zeal about her, dear!¡±


    ¡°A word of advice, little girl,¡± the man told the brunette in reply to his darling¡¯s remark. ¡°We¡¯re demons. As in, not one of your fleshy, weak humans. You may no longer know better, but believe me, you¡¯ll be much better off if you don¡¯t do something incredibly stupid like trying to resist.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re renowned for our magnanimity, you see, sweetie,¡± the woman provided. ¡°When we see such uninformed behavior, we just can¡¯t help ourselves but educate such a poor thing.¡±


    ¡°You two talk too much,¡± she finally replied, then brought her foot around and into the air, sending a cloud of sand into their faces. Despite said faces being masks, they flinched away, and she took the opportunity to turn and bolt.


    She hardly broke free of the playground, however, before a half dozen figures appeared ahead of her, cutting her off. Their faces were covered with metal shells except for pale mouths with sharp teeth, and their bodies were covered in silver suits that glittered with every movement as if they were composed of innumerable small scales.


    Half held vicious-looking swords while the others held eldritch-looking pistols in a two-hand vice grip, and they moved back and forth among one another so that their nearly identical forms were hard to keep track of individually, especially with their jerky, twitchy movements.


    ¡°Oh, how terribly unfortunate,¡± the man bemoaned. ¡°She did something stupid.¡±


    ¡°Trying to run, sweetie?¡± The woman held her hand before where her mouth would be again as she laughed. ¡°Ohoho, you silly, silly little girl ...¡±


    ¡°No memories, remember,¡± she bit back at them in sarcasm. ¡°How was I supposed to know you were going to bring along Michael Jackson¡¯s backup rejects?¡±


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s quippy now,¡± the suited figure observed, his voice suggesting a bemusement that couldn¡¯t show upon his mask. ¡°What a pleasant change. Too bad it¡¯s so little and late.¡±


    ¡°Get over here!¡± The woman threw her hand forward as a line of string zipped out from her palm, defying physics as its length spanned the distance.


    Before it could reach her, however, there was a blur of motion as a sword came down to cleave the twine, the blow apparently connecting all the way back to the woman and causing her to stagger.


    ¡°What?!¡±


    ¡°Dakunaito!¡± The man pulled his blades up as he recognized the black figure that had imposed himself between the child and the woman¡¯s attack. ¡°What are you doing?!¡±


    The man with the eyes of burning coal stood up straight from the strike. ¡°Clowns and jesters are trying to steal away my prey. What do you think I¡¯m doing? Better yet, what possessed you to be foolish enough to try?¡±


    ¡°Clowns and jesters?!¡± The suited man feigned aghast.


    ¡°Why, we never!!¡± The woman was similarly overdramatically struck.


    ¡°I will have you know, sir,¡± the man argued back, ¡°that we are consummate performing artists!¡±


    Dakunaito was already striding toward them, massive sword off to one side. ¡°If you harm a hair on her head before I find my prey, you are dead.¡±


    The man struck first, throwing his blades with a wave of his hand, but the figure in combat armor swept them away with a swipe, then broke out into a sprint to close the last distance, coming down in a cleave that the suited man barely stopped with more blades he seemed to pull from nowhere.


    As the clash began in earnest, the two different fighting styles became quickly apparent. Dakunaito clearly considered this man a much more meaningful opponent than he had the blonde girl before, and with good reason. While his strikes were precise and skillful, the suited man was moving in ways that seemed theatrical and unnecessary, but were actually carefully considered.


    He would bow instead of ducking to avoid a high swing, one hand across his chest and the other across his back, legs twisted as if it were a dramatic stage pose. The instant the attack passed, he would use the position to unwind like the snapping of a top, with the aim to bring both hands full of blades across the knight¡¯s chest in quick succession. This would force the dark man to either break away or block rather than follow up.


    However, the woman seemed to believe this was not a particularly good match up for her partner, and clearly wanted to move to his assistance, but this would mean leaving the girl unguarded. She turned toward the silver humanoids and pointed to the girl.


    ¡°If she tries to escape, kill her!¡± And that was all she said before jumping toward the men¡¯s brawl to find an opening to assist the suited man.


    That left said girl to turn toward the silver figures. She couldn¡¯t refuse this opportunity. If numbers were any indication, and that the woman thought them normally insufficient without her supervision, they were likely much weaker than the two performers.


    Six versus one weren¡¯t great odds, but they were better than eight versus one, and if she was going to spend all her time in these experiences critiquing the fighting of others, she should probably put her money where her mouth was.


    They clearly took her moving into a combat-ready stance as an indication that she intended to try to escape. The first one came forward with a sword, but his form was far sloppier than the man clad in combat armor, and she easily stepped inside of it and slammed an uppercut into his exposed chin.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡­ It did not produce the impressive result she was hoping for. The silver figure hissed, but moved little, and merely stepped back and swung again. This time, she stepped to the outside and punched for his kidneys, but it was like impacting a heavy sandbag, and he moved even less.


    In a moment of clarity, she scolded herself for being surprised. These weren¡¯t humans, the suited man had said as much. She was trying to fight it like one, but clearly even an obvious mook like this wasn¡¯t going to go down so easily. Even if their combat skills were rubbish, they were far too tough for an unarmed human without powers of her own.


    She was the one who stepped back this time, to reassess her options. She needed a force multiplier. She needed a weapon of her own, but all of the weapons on the field were held by enemy forces. It wasn¡¯t impossible, though. They had human forms and moved like humans, she just needed to stop relying on blows and use techniques that wouldn¡¯t care how tough they were.


    These creatures also seemed rather dull. The one swinging a sword at her seemed to pause after every strike as if bewildered that he had missed, and the others seemed content to stay back and keep up their nervous shifting until they had reason to engage.


    A lack of skill, intelligence and basic strategy left it obvious that brute force was all these things were good for. It was no wonder the woman was loathe to leave them without supervision.


    The next he struck, she grabbed his wrist and stepped to the outside, twisting it as she threw him face-down to the ground by the arm. She planted her foot on where his shoulder would be and cranked hard on the hilt of the sword, forcing it to break free against his thumb. The next movement was burying it in the middle of his upper back.


    There was a sound like a banshee¡¯s scream that didn¡¯t come from his mouth and his body burned away in an instant of fire that left no ash.


    ¡­ Well, that had been easy. Too easy.


    Equally as curious, the weapon had shifted the moment it entered her control. The more ludicrous spikes withdrew to form a more proper concept of a sword, the blade becoming thinner and more practical rather than imposing. Worryingly, soon after she struck, energy began pulsing down the length of the weapon like sparks, jumping out from odd parts of the blade.


    None of the changes, however, explained the ease with which the weapon had skewered him. She had wanted a force multiplier, but that had operated like a hot knife and butter.


    Whatever was afoot, she¡¯d have to consider it later, as his death seemed to be the signal for the next one to attack. She rotated her center of gravity to what had been her back foot as she made it her front, and swept up to knock the incoming strike away. Her second swing took his arm off, and her third cut him in two above the pelvis. His body vanished the same way as the last.


    This had brought her close to one of the gunners, and she moved in fast, stepping her leg in behind his as she threw her weight behind her shoulder into his chest. By some miracle, despite their durability, these guys were no heavier than they looked, and he toppled backwards.


    She followed, but only to drive her knee into his chest to hold him there as she reached in and twisted the gun in his grip. Slipping her finger in over his, she turned and shot another of the gunners that had tried to draw a bead on her, and finally brought the sword up into the downed gunner¡¯s chin.


    She didn¡¯t feel the fire that consumed the body, suggesting it didn¡¯t behave like actual flame, but her knee came down and hit the concrete several inches down, drawing a grunt of pain out of her.


    The moment the gun entered her hand, it followed much the same transformation as the sword, becoming smaller to fit her grip and become a more practical-looking weapon, though frankly, both still had a rather evil look to them.


    Still, their performance couldn¡¯t be argued with, and if this was going to become a regular thing, she thought she¡¯d rather like to keep them as she rose to standing again and rotated to fire two more shots of the energy the gun fired into the chest of the final sword mook.


    The last gunner opened fire on her, but she ducked first down and to the left, then to the right, reacting to where he was aiming, an easy feat since he motioned with his entire body before firing. She took the opportunity of the lull after the two shots he fired to charge in and run the sword through his midsection. Again, the final of the half-dozen silver figures vanished in a flash of heatless flame.


    Though she took a moment to catch her breath and recenter her focus out of the adrenaline rush of combat, she couldn¡¯t help but admit that had been the easiest fight she had ever been in. Of course, the buzzing nothingness kept her from recalling any of them specifically, but she¡¯d done weapon combat before, in sparring if nothing else.


    Even rookies whose skills were equivalent to the silver figures never went down so effortlessly. Her body almost protested at the lack of solid impacts from the sword just slipping right through them. Were these demon weapons that ludicrously powerful? She had a hard time believing it, they certainly didn¡¯t seem to be that way in the hands of those guys.


    With her portion of the battle concluded, she turned her attention to what was no doubt the part with far more of both danger and relevance. If the far stronger commanders of this little attack didn¡¯t get put down or driven off, it wouldn¡¯t matter how poorly their grunts had done.


    Fortunately, though the suited man was easily the strongest and most skilled adversary she¡¯d seen the armored man face, it wasn¡¯t looking like he was really his equal. The man in the black armor was steadily wearing him down, and it seemed the time for any hope of an honest win for the self-proclaimed artist had long passed.


    It didn¡¯t seem like a straight win was ever what the man and woman had planned, however. The woman was slinking around behind the armored man, staying out of direct sight, and the sense of presence that the brunette associated with the demons had vanished from her.


    Somehow, she was suppressing herself, and was waiting for an ideal moment when Dakunaito was distracted and she could strike with her string, which she held tight like a garrote.


    And then the woman saw it. The man in black jumped backward to avoid a wide sweep from the masked one. Back toward the woman. She raised her arms in preparation.


    A flash of light as the girl raised the pistol and blasted her in the back disrupted her sneak attack, causing her to cry out in pain as she tumbled away from the impact.


    Both men turned to look at the noise, the swordsman only for a moment as he confirmed what was happening behind him. The masked man took longer, his mistake.


    ¡°Darling!¡± he called for her, more out of shock than concern, but it was the opening the knight needed to thrust forward again, scoring a deep hit into his side.


    The masked man growled against the agony, but then vanished right off of the blade, only to reappear next to the woman. He crouched down next to her, as she still was half-laying on the ground, even as he clutched his own side as best he could.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he shouted in disgust and rage toward the black knight. ¡°Keep your little sweetheart, Dakunaito! But don¡¯t think you¡¯ve heard the end of this!¡± And then the next moment, both were gone, just no longer there as if they never had been.


    The swordsman said nothing, merely giving his blade a practiced flick and returning it to its sheath at his side. He then turned and stepped toward her.


    For her part, she directed her attention down to the weapons, which she gave a little shake. ¡°Soooo ¡­¡± she drew the word out, unsure how to make idle conversation with someone who wanted her dead. ¡°How do I turn off the sparks?¡±


    ¡°They are overloaded,¡± he replied in his inhuman bass. ¡°Demon equipment functions very much like what you would use as a witch, channeling the magical energy within the user and giving it form. While the weapons have limited shapeshifting ability for resizing, the ones you are holding were meant to be disposable arms for foot soldiers with, by demon standards, very little power. They were never intended to handle the levels of energy a witch possesses. Ah, and there they go.¡±


    As he said that, the weapons disappeared from her hands into countless motes of light as if disintegrating. ¡°Aw man,¡± she bemoaned, ¡°if this sort of thing was going to become a regular thing, I wanted to keep them. I guess I should just be glad they didn¡¯t blow up or something.¡±


    ¡°You should not have attempted to aid me in the battle just now,¡± he scolded her. ¡°Weapons or no, it was strategically foolish. Never forget that I am your enemy. You live only because you hold answers I need. If they had succeeded, at the very least, I would have been greatly weakened, and you would have odds that much better for your long-term survival.¡±


    ¡°You saved me when you jumped in and stopped that woman¡¯s string,¡± she pointed out. ¡°One good turn deserves another, and all that.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t save you,¡± he again corrected. ¡°I need you in order to reach my prey, nothing more. They were willing to kill a lesser foe for sharing the same face. I did nothing more than protect my lure from vultures.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she replied, crossing her arms in refusal to hear his objections. ¡°My life was saved in the process, and I owed you one. Think of it as keeping our balance even.¡±


    ¡°I dislike your balance,¡± was the growled response, and he disliked it enough to drop it for a more relevant topic. ¡°You never fought in the manner you did today,¡± he questioned. ¡°Where did you learn that combat style?¡±


    She frowned, already knowing he didn¡¯t like this answer, but unable to give any other. ¡°I can¡¯t say.¡±


    Indeed, his eyes flashed a more violent red as he growled his annoyance at her. ¡°That again. Hmph.¡±


    He turned away from her and took several steps away. ¡°Those fools created enough of a ruckus that the witches will be arriving soon. As much as I want more answers than these, their cowardice will force me to wait another day.¡±


    The black figure turned those burning coals back toward her over his shoulder. ¡°Know this: I refuse to rescue you at every opportunity from your own careless ignorance. Get them to accompany you if you don¡¯t desire today to repeat itself.¡±


    With that, he, too, was simply gone, and she was alone in the playground once more. And yet she only had a minute or two to reflect on his warning.


    ¡°Riko!¡± It was Haru¡¯s voice, and as she looked up, she saw her in that stupid miniskirt again.


    The other girls were also no longer in their school uniforms, though their new attire varied from one another. Natsumi and Ran both wore leotards at the core of their outfits, but despite her rather impractically high heels, the redhead¡¯s equally red outfit looked more like that of a gymnast in a long jacket with a flared tail. On the other hand, Ran¡¯s blue tights, half-jacket and airy skirt called more to mind the image of a dancer.


    And then there was Reina. If ornamentation were indicative of rank, there was no question who was in charge.


    A brooch held shut the neck of her cut-out top and a black choker closed around her throat with a gemstone latch. Dangling star earrings hung from her lobes. Her dark but ornate knee-high boots were perfectly polished and sported gemmed buckles. A decorative belt hung in the opposite direction of her high-waisted, asymmetrical short skirt. Decorative bracers on either forearm matched the design of her boots, and an actual, honest-to-goodness tiara crowned her forehead.


    No mere list of everything on her could have made it sound less gaudy, but somehow it went together well enough to hit more of a punk war princess vibe than overdecorated trailer trash. Perhaps it was the use of darker colors so that only the accents of the assorted decorations really stuck out.It was far too ostentatious and Hot Topic for the brunette¡¯s tastes, but certainly something she could see an uptight, straight-laced over-performer imagining as her inner self, which she guessed was the idea.


    Miss Sada was nowhere to be seen.


    Any further observation was cut short by Haru impacting her midsection and taking her clean off her feet. The other girls looked worried a moment before the impact as they realized what was about to happen, but then her world went spinning. By the time she landed, she was ten feet from where she started and gasping to regain the wind that had been knocked out of her.


    ¡°Haru!¡± Homura called too late. ¡°You¡¯re transformed!¡±


    The blonde head with the overly wide pigtails raised up, wide-eyed at the error. ¡°Oh no, I wasn¡¯t thinking! Are you okay, Riko?!¡±


    She coughed enough to get some air moving, but reached down and eased the girl away from her. ¡°I¡¯ll ¡­ I¡¯ll be fine,¡± she managed to get out. ¡°Just so long as you don¡¯t do that again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± The girl seemed nearly in tears. ¡°I was just so worried about you!¡±


    ¡°Sarasa detected demon signatures around your location,¡± Reina provided, her tone cool and professional.


    ¡°There were,¡± she confirmed, ¡°but I only dealt with half a dozen grunts. Silver guys with weapons, but pretty stupid.¡±


    ¡°Dretches,¡± the upperclassman confirmed, ¡°but Sarasa said she detected multiple major demons.¡±


    ¡°Three of them.¡± She nodded in agreement with that. ¡°But they were fighting each other and then took off on their own.¡±


    ¡°Did you recognize any of them?¡± A moment later, the raven-haired girl seemed to realize her question. ¡°Er, well, I mean ¡­¡±


    She didn¡¯t dwell on it, merely shaking her head. ¡°Only Dakunaito. The other two were a couple that called themselves performing artists. A man in a suit and a woman in a dress, both wearing masks.¡±


    That put a definite frown on the older girl¡¯s face. ¡°Then especially without the ability to use your spells, you are fortunate that they only fought among themselves. Those two may act the part of fools, but they are extremely cunning.¡±


    She crossed her arms, however, and fell silent for a moment to regather her thoughts for changing the subject. ¡°Speaking of the matter of your memories, the others filled me in on what you told them before you left, and we discussed what to do about it. Regardless of the cause, there is really only one path forward.¡±


    Tamashini¡¯s boots clicked against the concrete as she moved over to the girl still held down by Haru. She tried her best to put on a gentle face, but clearly wasn¡¯t very practiced at it, as she offered her hand. ¡°Come back to the fountain shop. However long it takes, we¡¯ll explain everything that we can.¡±

 Chapter Five

    (5)


    Dakunaito always hated coming into the city. It was nothing like human cities, with their sunlight and flat, paved surfaces, green trees and fresh air. No, here, everything was sulfur and obsidian. Where light didn¡¯t come from lava pools or lichen, there were post lamps filled with orange flames.


    There was never enough lighting, either. Everyone seemed to like keeping it too dark to make out clear details more than two dozen yards without resorting to special vision. Perhaps they didn¡¯t like it here, either, and they didn¡¯t appreciate the reminder of actually seeing it.


    Yet the city was a necessity. Not all demons could be greater forces, suited for major roles in war, and any war, even a demonic one, required supplies and resources. It required skilled professionals to turn those supplies and resources into usable items, from weapons and armor to rations and tools.


    All souls who were not noteworthy enough to live in the Imperial Palace or the noble estates on choice surrounding land lived within the city¡¯s walls. Those who were artisans or otherwise skilled labor lived a comfortable enough life in the closest thing to a competitive meritocracy outside of the military. All others spent their existences slaving away in dangerous, unrewarding but absolutely essential fields, mostly mining.


    Of course, it was common wisdom that the greatest artisans in a given field were found in the palace, where they served the demon emperor and his entourage personally. It was his own firm belief, however, that at least some of those handpicked to live in such luxury in exchange for personal service were chosen from various degrees of nepotism, and he normally preferred to take his business to the gloomy but less entitled city instead.


    Even if that weren¡¯t the case, however, the project that had been occupying his mind was not one he wanted palace gossip about.


    ¡°Master Dakunaito! Master Dakunaito!¡± It was a small voice from a small figure that came running from a side street toward him.


    Long before the figure got close enough, the knight was able to identify it as an imp. Deceptively childlike in appearance, but ultimately harmless to a greater demon, most people had trouble telling them apart or recalling specific individuals.


    The imps clogged the slums of the city, as they were too weak for most manual labor and were as effective at escaping purges as rats, able to disappear from even some of the best of demonic trackers. However, they had extremely subservient personalities and would often lord even the smallest of attentions from a greater demon over other imps as if it made them special.


    The best fates they could hope for would be as minor servants in some lesser lord¡¯s home, but their love of gossip often made them undesirable even for this. Fortunately, they were simple creatures with little individual drive, and were content with even the basest of living conditions.


    This one was a male, the swordsman noted as he turned to face the imp. Or at least it was wearing shorts. It could be a bit hard to tell without such signifiers. Females tended to like wearing skirts and tying ribbons in their hair or on their horns, but it wasn¡¯t a hard and fast rule.


    ¡°Speak,¡± he commanded it, letting his hand rest on his hilt as an unspoken threat that it had better not be a waste of his time.


    ¡°Is it true?¡± The question made it very obvious this was going to be about gossip. ¡°Word around town is that you beat up that crazy kabuki couple!¡±


    News always could be counted on to travel fast, if not accurately, among the imps, and it was no surprise that they already heard of that. ¡°It is true,¡± Dakunaito confirmed. ¡°They got in my way and suffered the consequences.¡±


    ¡°Wowee, that¡¯s great, Master,¡± the imp praised, very nearly with actual stars in its eyes.


    It was no particular secret among greater demons that imps held a particular dislike for those two jesters, and delighted in their slightest misfortune. Dakunaito was not one for gossip, but even he had heard tales of how the two had lured imps into their manor with promises of comfort and employment, only to experiment on them like costumed mannequins and dolls.


    ¡°And is it true it was over a future Missus Master?!¡±


    At that, the warrior¡¯s eyes flashed a furious red, bright enough to cast light on the imp¡¯s youthful face. ¡°No,¡± he vehemently growled, fist clenching at his side. He raised his hand and pointed back down the alley the imp had hailed him from. ¡°And let it be known that I will kill any I discover spreading that lie.¡±


    Instead of being intimidated, the imp took it as instruction, snapping to a salute. ¡°You got it, Master! I¡¯ll make sure to tell anyone I hear it from they¡¯ll answer to you!¡± And the childlike demon turned on its heel and darted back into the shadows of the alley.


    This was one of the most valuable roles imps served, and they did it almost without thinking. One could use them to counter misinformation as easily as one could use them to spread it. If it is on imp lips, it will be about the city by day¡¯s end, and having first hand information from a greater demon meant that this one would be riding high among its peers for some time. There was no doubt it would do exactly as it said and threaten on his behalf anyone who uttered that rumor.


    Still, that such a foul and insulting gossip would already be floating about infuriated him to his very marrow, and even as he began walking toward the merchant district, he couldn¡¯t help suspecting those two had something to do with it. How long would it have circulated and how many important ears might it have reached if he hadn¡¯t happened to come into the city so promptly and unexpectedly? Yes, this stank of their doing.


    Dakunaito hated politics. It flew in the face of the pure virtue of proving one¡¯s worth through actions, favoring meaningless words over the weight of results. In his mind, politics was the practice of raising one¡¯s position by dragging others down, rather than improving oneself to become worthy of the position.


    Its most insidious trait, however, was that, despite its blatant uselessness, so long as any were concerned with such banalities, all were required to play the game. Those two were quite fond of it, one more stage on which they could act a part without ever actually having to follow through. Though he would much rather spend his time in self-improvement, he would have to divert some of his attention to determining how best to discourage them from continuing this particular charade.


    That was for another time, however. For now, he brushed open the curtain to a sizable establishment and stepped in, ducking nearly habitually to clear the upper frame. The level of light inside was even dimmer than on the street, and it took a moment for his eldritch sight to take over and reveal the low display cases in front of racks of products, sorted by both material and classification.


    By that time, the owner had noticed him, and he couldn¡¯t claim to be surprised to see it was an old naga woman. The serpent tongue served their kind well in mercantile, and they knew it. She did not, however, know him. The imps, as hard as they were to distinguish, always seemed to never have the same problem, immediately identifying anyone of importance. This old snake, however, only recognized him as a greater demon.


    ¡°Ah, m¡¯lord,¡± she greeted him, her tongue darting out as if to taste his presence, and her old voice like pebbles grinding against one another. She bowed her head with stiffness that he suspected was more act than arthritis. ¡°My humble store is blessed by your visitation.¡±


    ¡°Your best weapons, merchant,¡± he replied, not interested in having his ego rubbed for a few more coins. ¡°I will see them immediately.¡±


    ¡°Of course, m¡¯lord, of course!¡± she assured him. ¡°All of my wares are of the best quality you will find short of the palace itself. Ah, perhaps you could be more specific in what you seek, hmm? Then old Garilda can help you filter down where we need to look.¡±


    He nearly snapped at her, but had enough self control to realize the error was his. ¡°I want your most arcane-capable weapons.¡± Being in error didn¡¯t make him like having to take the extra time to clarify any more. ¡°The greatest conduits with the highest capacitance.¡±


    She gave a slow nod, almost appearing to doze off, but it was a sorting process she was going through, and soon, she led the way toward the far end of the building, separated from the main floor by a raised platform. ¡°And do you know what type of weapons you desire, m¡¯lord?¡±


    ¡°I will decide when I see what you have in stock.¡±


    That slow, dozing nod again. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll start with the popular choices, then.¡±


    She led him to a primary display of bladed weapons. Swords, knives, axes, every bladed weapon of war known to man spread out before him from this central point. All looked as if they were crafted from polished obsidian inlaid with pools and rivulets of liquid ruby.


    Dakunaito looked over the array of weapons and lifted from the racks above the display cases a single longsword, the ruby running down the blade in place of a fuller. He ran a gauntleted finger down the blade¡¯s length and tested its balance in his grip.


    The merchant had only just begun to smile, pleased that the greater demon that had visited her shop seemed to be finding no complaint with her wares. Unfortunately, it was promptly shocked off of her face as the warrior brought the weapon down and cleaved directly through the display, sundering many of the weapons with the strike and completely snapping the blade off of the one he had used.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°M-m-m-m¡¯lord!¡± The old snake¡¯s startled stutter accompanied her rapid toppling backward, hands raised in supplication. ¡°Please! What error have I made?! I shall make it right!¡±


    Dakunaito raised the remains of the broken weapon before his ember eyes, turning it back and forth in examination. ¡°I am in remarkably little mood for plays of stupidity, Garilda,¡± he replied, then tossed the weapon to the ground in front of her, causing the old merchant to flinch away as if expecting it to have been aimed at her. ¡°I demanded your best, and you offer mass-produced trash!¡±


    His gauntleted hand that had held the weapon clenched all but one finger to point at her. ¡°If you wish to take me for a gullible fool, I shall bring this building down about your wretched shoulders!¡±


    ¡°M¡¯lord,¡± she pleaded, ¡°I meant no offense! I swear it! I would never attempt to take advantage of a greater demon! I know my place, m¡¯lord!¡±


    He stepped forward and hauled her off of the ground by her neck, holding her up above his own head level. Despite the height, a naga was so long that still a foot of the old woman¡¯s tail trailed on the ground. That did not seem to be any comfort to her terror-filled eyes.


    ¡°Evangelium and hordestadt, serpent,¡± he demanded, his barrel voice bellowing off of the store¡¯s walls. ¡°Nothing less!¡±


    ¡°E-Evang--?¡± the shook snake stuttered. ¡°M¡¯lord, I stock no such thing!¡±


    ¡°Who does?!¡± he demanded, pulling her in close to his face again. ¡°Tell me!¡±


    ¡°No one does, m¡¯lord!¡±


    His eyes of burning coal stared closely into her face inches away from the blank darkness within his helmet for several long moments. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less furious. ¡°Explain, merchant, and do not consider lying.¡±


    She again held her hands up to either side in supplication. ¡°M¡¯lord, if I may be so bold, it seems the palace has skewed your perception of supply and demand. You are correct that it would certainly be capable of handling any level of arcana, no matter how great, but that isn¡¯t enough.


    ¡±Evangelium and hordestadt are both exceedingly expensive to acquire, and few blacksmiths are skilled enough to produce anything of value from them. Demons who are capable of utilizing such a weapon¡¯s full potential are rare outside of the emperor¡¯s own house, and the number of them who care for the style in which such weapons are shaped are scarcer still.


    ¡±Quite simply, m¡¯lord, there is no business in stocking evangelium and hordestadt equipment. The investment would not be worth the scant sales. The only way to acquire such things in the city would be to commission them directly.¡±


    Another long moment passed, then he dropped her unceremoniously, simply releasing his grip and letting her fall. ¡°I will need to know where to find a qualified blacksmith.¡± Despite the phrasing, his tone made it obvious it was another demand.


    ¡°You are in luck, m¡¯lord!¡± The old merchant was rubbing out her neck without yet returning to her equivalent of standing. ¡°My granddaughter is one such skilled blacksmith.¡±


    The coals within his helmet narrowed. ¡°A naga blacksmith? I warned you against taking me for a fool, hag.¡±


    ¡°And I swore I would never do such a thing, m¡¯lord!¡± she insisted in return. Then, more hesitantly, ¡°I admit that she is ¡­ the black sheep of the family, as humans say, but she is capable of crafting what you desire.¡±


    Dakunaito¡¯s stare glowered down on her for a bit longer as he decided whether or not to believe her.


    * * *


    The heat of magma slammed into their faces as the old snake led the way down the carved stone stairs. The cavern had no artificial lighting; all necessary light came from the molten lake it bordered. At the base of the stairs, the cavern became an artificially flat plane raising a foot above the magma the size of an entire workshop. Tools were stored in black iron braces bolted to the wall, skirted by the complete features of a blacksmith¡¯s craft.


    The one exception was the forge, which was not against the wall, but on the edge of the stone beach. A pump pulled magma up from the lake into the forge, itself, to provide heat for the metal as it cycled through channels and pooled in a basin deep enough to submerge an indeterminate length of material. For convenience, the anvil was attached to the forge, to easily allow a project to be quickly moved between the two.


    The whole way down, the sound of impacts rebounded off of the stone around them, but not until they reached the bottom could they circle the forge and see the source.


    Her flesh was burnt umber and her scales were cinnabar, as if both had been toasted to their hue in the heat of this cavern. She wore little in the oppressive heat but a thick apron to protect her front from the worst of the shrapnel and molten slag, and each blow from her hammer drew sparks that reflected off of her body and the sweat that oiled her muscles.


    Extremely toned, they were larger than a woman¡¯s would be in any other profession, but not bulky, her race¡¯s preponderance of form developing them into sinewy cables that visibly bulged as she would heft the hammer, then released as she brought it back down, over and over again in a hypnotic cycle that never wavered.


    She apparently eschewed gloves, and despite the heat it must have possessed, she gripped the end she wasn¡¯t pounding in an unhesitating vice grip. Scars of her labor were visible across her knuckles and the back of her hands in testament to her dedication to her craft.


    Her bangs were kept out of her almond eyes with a leather headband, while the eyes, themselves, fiercely focused on the steel-like substance she sought to subdue. The rest of her ebony hair was secured in a french braid that swung with every impact back and forth across her bare back.


    Her tail pooled beneath and behind her, taking up an impressive amount of the workroom floor, though it would be an impediment only to those who intruded on her work. A naga had no need to ¡°step¡± around their own tail, able to move any part of it at will to relocate their upper body as needed.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one who found herself called back to the world around her when the old snake announced their visitor. ¡°Narhia,¡± the name had a hard sound to the R that was almost a roll, ¡°you have a customer! This lord desires your services for a commission!¡±


    The endless repetition of the hammer came to a halt and the blacksmith moved the blade to a nearby oil bath before turning those eyes first on her grandmother, then on the warrior.


    For a moment, they seemed to penetrate him, but the gaze was broken when she bowed in greeting to him. In its wake, he recalled the trait was common, not just of naga, but of all known serpent species as predators, and was unlikely to actually be any noteworthy trait of hers, or even something of which she was conscious.


    ¡°M¡¯lord,¡± the blacksmith spoke, and if her grandmother¡¯s voice could be compared to grinding pebbles, her stones were moving smoothly through a river. That was, however, the end of her courtesies, and she pulled herself back straight once more. ¡°I will see your sword.¡±


    He cocked his head slightly. ¡°No.¡±


    Sensing conflict, Garilda moved inward toward her granddaughter. ¡°He¡¯s not here about his sword, Narhia.¡±


    ¡°I did not assume he was,¡± she replied, though her gaze was still on him, and she put her hand out as if still expecting to be obeyed. ¡°I can take no commission of any sort from any demon I do not know before I have seen his weapon.¡±


    Garilda¡¯s eyes widened, and she moved toward Dakunaito in turn. ¡°Mercy, m¡¯lord, mercy! I warned you she was a black sheep, she is not good with people, but she is--¡±


    ¡°Silence, hag!¡± the warrior barked, and the old woman recoiled and obeyed.


    The two maintained their staring contest for nearly half a minute as if it were a contest of wills. Then he began to draw his sword, and the old woman began babbling fearful pleas, clearly believing he intended to strike her down for her insolence, but neither of them paid her any mind.


    He held the sword ready for another stretch as if he were really weighing the option. And finally, in one swift motion that drew a scream from the merchant, but didn¡¯t even draw a flinch from her granddaughter, he flipped it around to present the hilt to her.


    She took the weapon in hand and hefted it, tested its balance in either hand, gauged its length relative to the span of her arms. She set the pommel against the ground and put her finger on the very tip of the blade to check its balance. She pulled it up close before her eyes, which she narrowed and focused them on its edge, slowly pulling it across her vision, then repeating it for the other side.


    Finally, she turned, took it in a two-handed stance and made several practice strikes. She frowned slightly in thought as she brought it up in front of her gaze again. ¡°This is the most well-maintained training sword I have ever seen.¡±


    ¡°I did not request your opinion, smith,¡± was his unwavering response.


    ¡°You did,¡± she disagreed as she returned the weapon to him. ¡°When you requested my services. What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Evangelium and hordestadt.¡±


    ¡°Ingots or ores?¡±


    If he had eyebrows, one of them was surely elevated. She was quite brazen to barb him so many times. Was it possible she truly did not see them as barbs, as her grandmother claimed?


    ¡°Weapons,¡± he decided to answer her directly and see where she was going with it. ¡°A paired set of memetic weapons, primarily sword and firearm. They need to conceal themselves when not in use, perhaps as bracelets.¡±


    ¡°Bracelets?¡± It was the old woman, perhaps emboldened by the progress of negotiations. ¡°M¡¯lord, I had no idea you had your eyes on courting some lucky lass!¡±


    Unlike with Narhia, he let out a low growl without looking toward her.


    ¡°Grandmama,¡± the smith told her, ¡°go upstairs, in case more customers come.¡±


    Her eyes widened at that. ¡°Wha- but-¡±


    ¡°You said this was my commission,¡± the raven-haired young woman reminded her. ¡°I will handle it.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Yes,¡± Garilda agreed, giving a sideways glance of trepidation to the greater demon in their midst. ¡°Yes, dear, perhaps you are right. I¡¯ll be upstairs if I¡¯m needed.¡± She gave another stiff bow to Dakunaito. ¡°M¡¯lord.¡±


    He dismissed her with a nod, still not deigning to look at her.


    With that, she turned and made her slow way up the stairs.


    Narhia waited until the old woman was well on her way up, then crossed her arms in front of her. ¡°It does not sound like you are courting to me,¡± she noted instead, in criticism of the old woman¡¯s previous intrusion. ¡°It sounds like you are taking an apprentice.¡±


    Though he hadn¡¯t looked away from her, he had allowed himself to simply stand there, and his embers now focused firmly on her sharp face. ¡°Is what I do any of your business?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered without hesitation. ¡°The more I understand your intent, the better the end result will be. Is there something wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Your apprentice,¡± she insisted. ¡°She can¡¯t shape the weapons, herself.¡±


    ¡°You are so certain I am taking an apprentice,¡± he observed, almost dismissively, though in fact, he was choosing his words carefully. ¡°And now, you have concluded a female?¡±


    ¡°You did not ask for bracers,¡± was her easy retort.


    Again, he found his eyes narrowing. Was she truly getting all of this from this one-sided conversation?


    She did not wait, however, apparently already gathering the information she required. ¡°I will take your commission.¡±


    ¡°I have answered none of your questions, blacksmith.¡±


    ¡°You have answered every one,¡± she calmly countered.


    He was finding himself doing much more staring than he was normally accustomed to on this trip. He took in her full measure before him, measuring what she seemed to know and if it were a threat.


    ¡°I do not speak of any of my commissions to any soul,¡± she said, he thought, unprovoked. ¡°Not even to my grandmother. All of your answers and all other details of your commission will be held only between you, myself and my anvil.¡±


    He stared at her a moment longer at such a remark, then deposited a bag heavy with coin on a worktable. ¡°If you require more for supplies, call upon me at my estate. Otherwise, do so when your work is complete.¡±


    It was her turn to tilt her head slightly, though she did not seem to do so in any sort of surprise. ¡°What name should I call upon?¡±


    ¡°Dakunaito.¡±


    She showed no reaction to the name, only bowing once more, as if in conclusion. But when he turned to leave, she spoke again. ¡°M¡¯lord, I must ask you one more question. This is a critical one that will have a profound impact on the final product.¡±


    Well, that was the most hesitation she had shown this entire time, the warrior reflected as he turned halfway back toward her. ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°An unproven youth with enough power to utilize evangelium and hordestadt, yet she knows no spells. Any demon family would have taught basic spells to their children. Only humans do not hold such a practice, but they do not possess the arcana for the materials.¡±


    Dakunaito turned fully toward her once more, and danger bounced in his chest as he growled, ¡°You said you had a question, smith.¡±


    And she dove right into that question without any sense of self-preservation. ¡°Is your apprentice a new witch?¡±

 Chapter Six

    (6)


    They were all back in the fountain shop, gathered around the same table. Refills of their beverages of choice were present, mostly. She personally wanted something lighter than another shake, and took Haru¡¯s advice of a strawberry float. These were accompanied by a tray of snack foods.


    All present assumed this was going to take quite some time, and it was with unanimous agreement that they decided it was going to effectively be the location of their evening meal. The snack tray, boasting an assortment of baked goods, may have been more finger food, but it would serve their purpose. The confectioneries were at a reduced price this late in the evening, making it a cheaper alternative for feeding five teenagers than pizza.


    Miss Sada apparently didn¡¯t eat like the girls, either, contenting herself with simply rolling a cookie back and forth with her finger for the time being. ¡°Well, then, now that we know the problem,¡± she suggested, ¡°how about we start the session over from the top? I say introductions make the most sense, and they¡¯re what good manners would demand.


    ¡±Miss Chiaki, I think we can all agree it¡¯s only right you go first.¡±


    Awkwardly, the blonde got to her feet and turned to face her, standing in silence for a moment before deciding to do a dip of her head. ¡°I- ¡­ I¡¯m Haru Chiaki. It¡¯s ¡­ It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    She stood there fiddling with her hem for a bit longer, but finally looked back to the teacher. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to say.¡±


    Said teacher was more than ready to take over, however. ¡°Haru and Nariko have been friends since grade school,¡± she smoothly provided. ¡°In fact, this relationship was the reason that she joined our little group at the same time you did just over a year ago.


    ¡±In said group, she is known as Flare Witch, and supports her allies with her light magic. She is also the only member of the team besides Reina who can use purification magic.¡±


    ¡°Purification magic?¡± She understood manipulating light, but this sounded more unique than that did. ¡°What are we talking about, some sort of anti-poison?¡±


    ¡°Not really, no,¡± Miss Sada replied, but the redhead picked up the explanation.


    ¡°The demons don¡¯t always do the attacking, themselves,¡± she provided. ¡°Often, they¡¯ll place a curse on somebody or an object with special significance by infusing it with demonic essence. Even if we defeat the resulting mutant, purification magic is the only way to remove the essence. Otherwise, we would have to kill the victim if it¡¯s a person to put a stop to their rampage.¡±


    Homura sighed and rubbed her forehead as if personally offended demons would be so annoying. ¡°Even if murder were an acceptable outcome, though, it still wouldn¡¯t fix the problem. Object or person, if left alone, it will eventually stabilize into a new proper demon, unable to be restored and regenerating in the demon realm even if it¡¯s later destroyed.¡±


    ¡°So someone with purification magic has to get to those encounters before it¡¯s too late,¡± she deduced in reply, earning a nod from the redhead.


    ¡°Each witch also has a passive ability that assists them at all times, even before they formally become a witch,¡± Miss Sada continued, motioning back to the blonde. ¡°Haru is an empath.¡±


    She nodded in understanding, but stopped halfway through as her eyes widened and she looked toward the pigtailed girl as implications flew through her mind. ¡°An empath? You mean--¡±


    Haru let her head lower, not meeting her gaze as she gave a sad, little smile. ¡°Yeah ¡­¡±


    For the first time, she really understood the full impact of her punch that first evening and what that would have meant to someone who was that sensitive to emotion. It also explained why her previous outburst seemed to stress the blonde girl so much. She had hardly had an interaction with the poor girl that she wasn¡¯t unknowingly causing her physical anguish, despite her being her most fervent advocate the last time they sat at this table.


    ¡°Oh, Haru,¡± she said, leaning over, but finding herself stopping short of reaching over and actually putting a hand on the girl. ¡°¡­ Haru, I¡¯m so sorry ¡­¡±


    The blonde made an effort to meet her eyes and put on a bright smile. ¡°Hey, this whole thing is because you didn¡¯t know, right? You were scared and lost, and I didn¡¯t pick up on it. Nobody¡¯s going to hold it against a cornered animal for biting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to think I have more presence of mind than an animal.¡±


    ¡°Clearly, you don¡¯t,¡± came snarked from across the table.


    ¡°Shh, Natsumi,¡± Miss Sada quickly scolded the redhead. ¡°Thank you, Haru, go ahead and sit down. Miss Wakumi?¡±


    As the first girl returned to her seat, the gunmetal-haired girl looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment before hesitantly climbing to her feet. She stuttered for a moment as she adjusted her glasses.


    ¡°Um ¡­ Ran Wakumi ¡­ nice to meet you ¡­ I¡¯m Shield Witch. I specialize in barrier magic. Oh, and my passive trait is increased intelligence, so if you ever need help with your studies ¡­¡± She seemed unwilling to go further, and was visibly relieved when Miss Sada permitted her to cease with a nod.


    Her butt hardly hit the chair before the redhead had sprung to her feet, thumbing to her own chest. ¡°Natsumi Homura! I¡¯m Flame Witch! Nobody¡¯s better when it comes to laying down area damage and literal cover fire! Ran¡¯s my best friend in the whole world, and we came into this together. I¡¯ll never let anything bad happen to her!¡±


    This open oath made the bespectacled girl next to her sink a bit in her seat. She didn¡¯t seem to take any notice, however, and leaned against the table to focus on the brunette. ¡°I¡¯m also all too often the only one to stand up to your bluster and arrogance!¡±


    Immediately, Haru protested. ¡°Natsumi! That can¡¯t be called for right now!¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± the redhead retorted, standing up straight again to cross her arms with a smirk. ¡°As far as we know, she¡¯s only lost her memories, not her personality. She deserves to know who to expect will be knocking her down a peg.¡±


    Indeed, her knee-jerk reaction was to rise defiantly to the challenge, to balk and give the redhead the argument she clearly desired. She was fairly sure, though, that would be anyone¡¯s gut response to being called out that way over a past they didn¡¯t have.


    She swallowed it, however, and instead gave Natsumi her best bright smile. When she answered her, she did so with all of the genuine sincerity she could find in her. ¡°Well, then, I will put my trust in you to keep me in line, Natsumi, and thank you.¡±


    Again, the unexpected response put the redhead on the back foot for the second time that day. ¡°Wh-what? No! That¡¯s not right! That¡¯s not how you¡¯re supposed to respond! Stop being weird!¡±


    As she continued to just smile in response, earning giggles from Haru, Ran reached over and tugged her sleeve. ¡°Natsumi, your power ¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh! Right!¡± Homura regathered herself, crossing her arms proudly again. ¡°My passive power is strength! So think twice before you challenge me!¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± That was certainly a more vivid passive ability than those she had heard so far, and it piqued her curiosity. ¡°How much strength does it give you?¡±


    ¡°Well, to be honest, it¡¯s not superhuman,¡± the redhead admitted, nevertheless rubbing her nose confidently, ¡°but even without transforming, I¡¯m as strong as or better than any guy our age I¡¯ve competed with!¡±


    That ¡­ was actually a lot more impressive than it sounded, the brunette reflected, taking it in. The average guy was at least twice as strong as the average girl, as a rough rule of thumb, meaning her enhancement was at least doubling her actual strength, maybe even tripling it if her small frame was really matching the most athletic of her male contemporaries.


    If the two of them ever did get into a physical fight, she¡¯d have to remember to fight as if she were fighting a man, or else Natsumi could seriously hurt her.


    Apparently, her impressed state showed on her face, because the redhead, with the smuggest look on her face imaginable, returned to her seat and confidently crossed her legs.


    ¡°Well, then,¡± Miss Sada spoke in the wake of the interaction, ¡°I believe that marks you as next, Reina.¡±


    The older girl closed her eyes and sighed. ¡°Normally, I hate talking about myself, but far be it from me to object when even Ran went through with it.¡± She stood up straight, the tips of her fingers pressing against the table in front of her, and when she opened her eyes, she certainly looked like a student president.


    ¡°I am Reina Tamashini,¡± she stated with a bold, clear voice that seemed like it could flow across a crowd without needing a microphone, yet which was not strained by volume. ¡°I was a witch before any of you awoke to your powers. My powers are the strongest present in all fields except for your individual specialties. My own specialty is purification magic, but I possess a broad library of spells and can fill or supplement any other role on the battlefield as needed.


    ¡±Outside of our role as witches, I have always done what I can for our fellow students at large by serving on the Student Council, previously in middle school, and now for my second year in high school. If you need any assistance finding particular school services, my council duties keep me busy, but I will always find time to help.¡±


    She continued, ¡°My passive ability is precognition, though it is very limited. Simply put, I tend to have a sense of impending events before they occur, which allows me time to prepare.¡±


    For the first time, instead of looking ahead as if she were addressing an assembly, Reina turned her gaze to the brunette. ¡°I ¡­ am sorry, Nariko, but Chiaki was not the only one to fail to notice what you were going through. Whatever it was that happened to you, I never foresaw it.¡±


    She shook her head in reply, dismissing the apology. ¡°No matter what your superpowers, I don¡¯t think this was something anyone could have prepared for.¡± Instead, she changed the topic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, do you not have a witch title like the others?¡±


    At that, the raven-haired girl lowered her head, clearly visibly annoyed at said title. ¡°Sacred Witch. I¡¯m sorry, I find it pretentious and don¡¯t like sharing it.¡±


    That raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t choose your titles, then?¡±


    ¡°Not as such,¡± Miss Sada explained. ¡°The nature of magic is that it will always reflect the individual using it. Even with a basic spell, if you and I each cast it identically, there would be differences in the manifestation because there are differences between us. More unique spells that depend on those differences to define them often simply cannot be used to produce the same effect by someone else.¡±


    ¡°Like how everyone¡¯s outfit reflects some sort of idealized inner self,¡± she guessed by connection.


    The other faces at the table looked a bit uncomfortable at that, but Miss Sada¡¯s expression brightened in the way only a teacher¡¯s does when she sees something click for a student. ¡°Exactly! I¡¯m pleased to see you noticed something like that so quickly, Miss Kelly. You¡¯ve certainly been paying attention.¡±


    She crossed her arms as she elaborated. ¡°The spell that provides the transformation is incredibly specific to the individual, yet you each technically use precisely the same spell. Even the incantation comes out slightly different, and is where the title comes from.¡±


    The brunette thought on this for a moment, turning the information over in her head. ¡°So,¡± she glanced over to the older girl, ¡°and forgive me for asking this, Reina, I¡¯m just wrapping my head around the rules,¡± then back to the teacher, ¡°the reason there is such a visual difference between Reina¡¯s outfit and what one would picture when imagining something sacred is specifically because of how it bothers her?¡±


    Her upperclassman¡¯s shoulders visibly stiffened at that, but Miss Sada practically giggled as she clapped for the deduction. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re so quick, dear! You¡¯re catching on so fast!


    ¡±Yes, our beloved leader¡¯s conflict certainly is to blame for that, and that¡¯s exactly how the system works. Personal matters being personal, however, you¡¯ll understand if I leave it there. If you¡¯ve deduced that much, I imagine you can get a good guess at the rest, but that¡¯s for her to tell when and if she decides to do so.¡±


    As she finished, Miss Sada motioned for Tamashini to sit and took her own turn standing, giving the brunette a warm smile. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s my turn, then. I am Sarasa Sada, though the surname is assumed. You were correct in your earlier suspicions, I¡¯m not human.¡±


    Her form began to suffuse with light as she jumped onto the table, but by the time she landed, she was much smaller. The quadruped form that landed in the middle of the table was pure white, possessed two tails, and despite possessing almost batlike wide ears and a pair of feathered wings, was very catlike overall, including the way it sat.


    She merely stared at the creature, who was clearly disappointed with the lack of fantastic response. ¡°A magical talking cat,¡± she intoned flatly. ¡°Isn¡¯t that awfully stereotypical?¡±


    ¡°Why, yes,¡± Miss Sada¡¯s voice answered from the mouth of the feline pegasus with a tone of bemusement. ¡°That was why I chose it.¡±


    ¡°So this isn¡¯t really your form, either?¡±


    ¡°My dear,¡± the former teacher replied, tails swaying, ¡°in your limited understanding of the universe, you would consider me a fifth dimensional being. I have no form as you understand it. I had to assume one conforming to your perceptions of existence to even interact with you.¡±


    The brunette leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. ¡°Alright, then, what brings a fifth dimensional being down to our four?¡±


    ¡°Three,¡± the redhead reflexively corrected, only for the gunmetal girl to correct her in turn.


    ¡°Four,¡± Ran said only just loud enough to be heard, shaking her head. ¡°Time.¡±


    She ignored both of them, however, and elaborated on her question instead. ¡°Are you why we have powers?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, dear, not at all,¡± Sarasa replied. ¡°I came in response to them. You would consider me the group¡¯s mentor and guardian, here to help make sure you understand your powers and use them safely and responsibly, for both your sake and the sake of those around you.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure we all know the answer, given that we are even having this conversation,¡± she followed, ¡°but I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t know what went wrong, either.¡±


    The cat¡¯s ears seemed to droop at that, and the tails stopped moving. A moment later, it glowed once more, and the light flashed back into the teacher¡¯s seat, where it once more solidified into Miss Sada¡¯s form. Indeed, she looked both saddened and quite apologetic.


    ¡°I really am sorry, dear, truly. It is my responsibility to protect you all, and in some manner that even my abilities can¡¯t perceive, I have completely failed you. If it were some action by the demons, a curse of some sort, it would be detectable, but there is no indication that there is anything wrong with you in any way.¡±


    ¡°Except for the fact that I¡¯m not me,¡± she concluded, which earned a sad nod from the teacher.


    She sighed, then, and took her turn to stand. ¡°I guess that means I¡¯m up.¡±


    She stood there a bit just gathering her words, how best to say what came next. ¡°My name is Nariko Kelly. Except it¡¯s not. I am a first year in high school. Except I¡¯m not. I¡¯ve known some of you for years. Except I only met any of you for the first time three days ago.


    ¡±If my name is not Nariko Kelly, don¡¯t ask me what it is. I can¡¯t say. If I am not in high school, don¡¯t ask me where I am. I can¡¯t say. If I was not here four days ago, don¡¯t ask me where I was. I can¡¯t say.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    She paused briefly as she watched the other girls, a bit of her fearful she¡¯d see the same burning irritation in their eyes that Dakunaito had displayed when she said those words. She didn¡¯t. Their gazes were lost, confused, mystified, even, but not angered. She took what strength she could from that, swallowed, then continued.


    ¡°These are not refusals to speak and I¡¯m not being flippant or deceptive, but depressingly literal. I spent much of the first day just trying to write my own name, only to produce gibberish each time, a jumble of not-symbols that weren¡¯t even the same from one attempt to the next.


    ¡±I know my name, my experiences and my history, in the same way you know yours without thinking about it, but trying to think about it produces nothing. I know these things, but I can¡¯t recall them, and even attempting is unpleasant. Were it just unpleasantness, I would force through it just to get answers, but when I do, there is nothing there. There is a void where the things I know should be.¡±


    Natsumi looked completely befuddled by all of this. ¡°Riko, the way you¡¯re describing this, you make it sound like you think you were ¡­¡± She waved a hand about, trying to come up with words. ¡°¡­ erased, or something.¡±


    ¡°That sounds ridiculous,¡± she agreed seriously, ¡°but it¡¯s an apt description of how I feel. Erased.¡±


    Miss Sada leaned forward and pushed a napkin toward her. ¡°Nariko, if you please, I want you to try writing that name now, in front of us.¡±


    She looked down at the napkin for a moment, but knelt down to retrieve a pen from her bag. She sat back down in her chair, pulled the napkin over and began to make precise motions with the instrument. Once she finished, she set the pen down and pushed the napkin to the middle of the table.


    The redhead looked down at the seemingly ordered chaos of jumbled lines in utter incomprehension. ¡°This can¡¯t possibly be something written accidentally.¡±


    Ran, too, looked down on it, adjusting her glasses to focus on it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like any language I¡¯ve ever seen. Miss Sada?¡±


    She, too, shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not a language at all. They really do look like they could be symbols of some sort, but they¡¯re not. This is nothing but random lines.¡±


    Natsumi pushed it to her again. ¡°Do it again.¡±


    Obligingly, she put the pen to the napkin again and attempted to write her old name. She already knew what the outcome would be, as she had done it many more times than this, but perhaps here ¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s just random lines again,¡± Natsumi complained. ¡°They aren¡¯t even the same ones!¡±


    She looked over as Haru put a hand on her forearm. ¡°Please, Riko, just one more time. I need to see something. A little slower, please.¡±


    She wrote a third time, this time concentrating on the precision of every stroke.


    ¡°You noticed something, Miss Chiaki?¡± the teacher inquired.


    The blonde girl nodded, but it was Reina that spoke. ¡°I believe I saw it, too. Now that she has mentioned it, I am certain that Kelly wrote the same way each time. Her strokes were the same on each attempt, but still produced different nonsense.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not possible!¡± Ran looked as if she had been told to believe the world was flat.


    The upperclassman looked to their teacher. ¡°Miss Sada, is it possible it is somehow a forbidden word?¡±


    The brunette raised her hand. ¡°Ah, come again?¡±


    Miss Sada gave a smile to her at that, then obliged. ¡°A forbidden word is something reality, itself, has deemed unmentionable. How it came to be forbidden and why is often unclear, given that most forbidden words have been so longer than historical recollection.


    ¡±Given that they can¡¯t even be recalled, there could be countless such words that whole societies just never even thought to use, so actually finding evidence of one, much less figuring out the reason, is extremely rare. Think of it as protective amnesia on a universal scale.¡±


    The teacher tapped her cheek as she looked up to the ceiling in thought for a moment before finishing. ¡°It can only be induced artificially by incredibly powerful magic, so why such effort would be spent on a mere name is unfathomable.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t exactly a rare name,¡± she countered. ¡°I have a hard time imagining millions of people around the world just suddenly forgot their names and nobody noticed.¡±


    Miss Sada considered this for a moment. ¡°It could be it was not the name that was stricken, its state is merely a symptom of it due to its ties to you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying I was what was stricken.¡±


    But the teacher merely sighed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Nariko, but that¡¯s impossible. I admit it would neatly explain everything you are experiencing, but the amount of magic required even to forbid a single word is so high that it would take an all-powerful god to forbid an entire individual existence. Even if such a being existed, I can¡¯t imagine such a drastic action could be taken without being noticed. Especially so recent.¡±


    She raised her finger in lecture. ¡°Ancient forbiddings are one thing, we have no way of knowing what ripples may have been made. But in only the last week? Such a massive expenditure of magic would have been felt by all of us, and countless others, even those merely sensitive to the arcane.¡±


    ¡°And it wouldn¡¯t explain why whatever remained would have manifested in you,¡± Reina pointed out. ¡°I know I brought it up, but we are moving away from the point at hand. You, Nariko, not whoever you¡¯re recollecting. I apologize for the insensitivity, but recovering our friend and ally from whatever is afflicting her must be our first priority and primary focus. Whatever happened to whoever this person was, if we can help them, we will, but we need to get you back first.¡±


    The teacher lowered her head. ¡°It pains me to pile insensitivity upon insensitivity, Nariko, but there is very likely nothing we can do for whoever you are recalling. If we assume for the moment in lack of a better suggestion that they were, indeed, forbidden in their entirety, there is nothing to save. What you are experiencing might be nothing more than a dying echo.¡±


    She looked down at the napkin and nudged it back and forth with her finger. ¡°Or the fading ripples.¡±


    Miss Sada gave a sad smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, dear, really, I am. But if this is the case, whoever you think you are is just a ghost. You¡¯re already dead.¡±


    It was Haru who stood up, as if personally harmed by this. ¡°But why, Miss Sada? Why Nariko? You said ripples would be felt by everyone, so why is this only happening to her?¡±


    ¡°I also said it was impossible,¡± she corrected. ¡°We simply have no better answer ready. We also don¡¯t know that no one else has experienced something from it, only that Miss Kelly is the only person we know that has.¡±


    The table went silent for a bit longer, but it was actually Homura that broke it, unusually quiet.


    ¡°I could guess why it affected Riko.¡±


    She let the table¡¯s undivided attention dwell on her for a moment as she clearly gathered her words. ¡°The whole reason none of us noticed something was wrong with her was because nothing was wrong with her. These past three days, if we¡¯re all being honest, her behavior has only been a little off. Even Haru, who knows her best of all, looked her in the face a little over an hour ago and said she was behaving just like herself.¡±


    Her gaze went to the brunette more decisively. ¡°And you started to raise to my heckling every time in the same way Riko would. Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice just because you caught yourself.¡±


    Her gaze drifted around the rest of the table as if gauging their reactions. ¡°Riko has been behaving in exactly the way Riko would behave if Riko were in this situation. That¡¯s why none of us noticed, and that¡¯s why I¡¯m betting that it hit her, because she resonated with whoever this other person was.¡±


    She motioned across the table to her. ¡°Whoever is sitting in that chair right now, in Riko¡¯s body, the degree of separation between the two is so slim that the ¡­¡± she floundered for a moment, ¡°¡­ the echo, if that¡¯s what we¡¯re calling it, slammed right into her like she was tuned for it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a brilliant line of reasoning, Miss Homura,¡± Miss Sada praised her solemnly. ¡°I¡¯m proud of you for putting that together. Some of us were perhaps too close to notice it.¡±


    She sighed, however, and again reached out to squeeze the hand of the girl in question. ¡°But this is all speculation, Nariko. I¡¯m sorry, dear, but the truth is we don¡¯t really know what has happened to you. I care about each of you as if you were my own daughters, and it pains me to know what you must be going through and not be able to give you any answers.¡±


    She, too, sighed, and made a conscious effort to square her shoulders. The crooked grin she put on next was her attempt to show she was trying to speak in jest. ¡°Well, at least there¡¯s the possibility that you¡¯re all talking about me like I¡¯m dead and you¡¯re still wrong.¡±


    With that, she moved her hand through the air as if to clear the topic from the table. ¡°Since we¡¯ve all hashed out just how much we don¡¯t know, let¡¯s get back to the introductions. There¡¯s still someone left who hasn¡¯t been introduced.¡±


    The table looked around, clearly doing a mental head count. ¡°Who?¡± Haru asked.


    ¡°The one person at the center of all of this mess,¡± she replied. ¡°Nobody¡¯s introduced me to Nariko Kelly.¡±


    There was a sense that went over the table of realization, some nodding. Miss Sada, for her part, was smiling again, though it was still a little sad at the context.


    ¡°Nariko Kelly,¡± she began after taking in a deep breath, ¡°is the middle child of three. She has a sister in college and a little brother that just started middle school. She¡¯s an above average student despite being rather lazy about homework, and usually has to pull in extra credit to keep it that way.


    ¡±She is known as Thunder Witch, and excels at devastating single-target attacks. This specialty is a deadly combination with her passive ability, Analysis, which doesn¡¯t actually raise her intellect specifically like Shield Witch¡¯s, but lets her take in many details very quickly and instinctively reach deductions on the battlefield. You may have already noticed it in action.¡±


    She nodded in understanding, though she had to admit she felt nothing particularly magical about looking at the battles she¡¯d seen. She simply witnessed what she did and drew obvious conclusions. On the other hand, she doubted Red felt particularly mystical while lifting, or Ran¡¯s intelligence meant information just came into her head. Honestly, she couldn¡¯t confirm or deny she¡¯d experienced Nariko¡¯s special ability.


    Haru, seeing a lull, piped up. ¡°Nariko is very protective of others,¡± she offered, seemingly eager to share more insights into her best friend. ¡°She¡¯s very quick to take action and cares very deeply about the people she deals with.¡±


    ¡°She also talks a lot ¡­¡± Ran seemed compelled to contribute after the blonde did. ¡°I think she likes to talk to me because we¡¯re both smart, but she rambles too much and doesn¡¯t know when to stop.¡±


    ¡°She definitely wears her heart on her sleeve,¡± Natsumi agreed critically, ¡°but that goes both ways. She¡¯s very prone to acting like her abilities mean she knows everything, and gets bossy when she thinks the rest of us don¡¯t see it. She¡¯ll push you around and try to take charge of everything if you let her.¡±


    Haru sighed. ¡°Natsumi ¡­¡±


    ¡°You know I¡¯m right,¡± the redhead answered back. ¡°You¡¯ll do her more harm right now by lying about it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Reina put in coolly, ¡°that Kelly has a very ¡­ strong personality, but that also makes her stalwart. When she sets her eyes on something, she doesn¡¯t waver, and that makes her someone you know you can always count on, regardless of her flaws.¡±


    At that, Miss Sada gave her a smile in conclusion. ¡°I hope you get along well with her, Riko.¡±


    She gave a wry smile in appreciation of the last line as she considered all of this. ¡°Well, it certainly sounds like she and I have plenty in common.¡± Some of the more criticizing takes were actually a bit hard to swallow because of how close to home they struck. Personally, she¡¯d like to believe she¡¯d grown out of some of those less desirable traits, but once upon a time ¡­ ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get along just fine.¡±


    She twiddled the pen back and forth over her fingers, then, on impulse, leaned in to pull a muffin from the tray, but she had hardly pulled it in front of her before Haru had swooped in to swap it with a flan. She glanced to the pigtailed girl with a raised eyebrow.


    The girl blushed and looked away, apparently worried about being pushy. ¡°Walnuts.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m allergic?¡±


    ¡°Too bitter, they burn your tongue.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± she replied, ¡°thanks for the save.¡± She picked up a plastic spoon instead and dipped it in, sampling the custard and caramel before she spoke again. ¡°So that¡¯s introductions, I¡¯ve got some questions about how stuff actually works now, if that¡¯s okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± Natsumi objected from across the table, propping an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand as she set aside a cake plate. ¡°It¡¯s literally why we¡¯re all still here.¡±


    No one¡¯s keeping you here, she nearly bit back, but she was starting to get the impression the girl was a typical thorned rose. After all, she was the one that had insisted on relying on each other, and despite her temperamental tone, it was very possible she just poked at her out of habit.


    Instead, she took a deep breath. ¡°What is a witch?¡±


    Natsumi arched an eyebrow to look at her like she was an idiot. ¡°A witch? A woman that casts magic, of course.¡±


    But she shook her head. ¡°No, that¡¯s what the word means, but what is a Witch?¡± As she repeated the question with emphasis on the word, she motioned around at the girls at the table. ¡°What are we? Where did the powers come from? Why did they come to us?¡±


    The redhead just leaned back and shrugged. ¡°Dunno. Don¡¯t care. We can help people, and that¡¯s all that matters. Maybe someone knew that¡¯s what we¡¯d use it for.¡±


    ¡°There is a story,¡± Miss Sada provided more informatively, ¡°that witches such as yourselves consorted with demons in a previous life, and that your powers are gifted so that you may redeem your sins by battling what you had once invited in.¡±


    That did not sound like something that she approved of. ¡°You make it sound like we¡¯re some sort of suicide squad,¡± the brunette summed. ¡°Except nobody had the common decency to tell us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only a story,¡± the teacher soothed. ¡°History is rife with myths that exist to excuse the demonizing of the most virtuous of people solely because someone else feels inadequate. I wouldn¡¯t read too much into it if I were you.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s only a story,¡± Homura objected stubbornly, ¡°then I like mine better.¡±


    ¡°Yours wasn¡¯t much of a story, though ¡­¡± Ran timidly pointed out.


    ¡°Okay, magic, then,¡± she attempted to steer the conversation back to the matters at hand. ¡°You said it changes form depending on the individual, and we all actually use the same transformation spell, right?¡±


    Her mind flashed back to when Flare Witch ¡°fought¡± Dakunaito. The girl¡¯s hand to hand skills were nonexistent, but her power was insane compared to any concept of normal. ¡°The demons that attacked today were targeting me because they knew I was vulnerable, but if I could get that combat boost, I could at least keep myself safe. If it¡¯s all the same spell, can¡¯t you just tell me how to do it?¡±


    She had her answer before even a word was spoken as they all broke their gaze, one after another, around the table.


    ¡°Were it that we could,¡± Miss Sada answered her, not nearly as long after the question had been asked as it seemed. ¡°Some spells can be taught or learned, true, but many of a Witch¡¯s spells are innate to them. The transformation spell may be the same mechanically, but it is granted to them as part of their awakening.¡±


    The teacher turned to meet the brunette¡¯s gaze again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Nariko, but even if you have no recollection of it, you¡¯ve already awakened as a Witch. There¡¯s no way to do it again to replace it.¡±


    Well, this was getting to be quite the depressing and unproductive session. She took the moment to pull from the float for a long draft, then sighed when she stopped. This body really liked strawberry, she¡¯d need to remember that.


    ¡°Alright, so to summarize, we don¡¯t know why I¡¯m in this state, we don¡¯t know what we are, and we don¡¯t know how to get my powers back.¡±


    ¡°Oh, your powers aren¡¯t gone, dear,¡± Miss Sada was quick to assure her. ¡°If anything, that¡¯s the issue. You just don¡¯t remember how to use them.¡±


    ¡°Can you at least tell me why Dakunaito has such a hate fetish for running this face through with a claymore?¡± She pushed through with the question she had been moving for despite the interruption. She understood Miss Sada¡¯s point, but the end result was the same, and she hadn¡¯t been looking for reassurance on them anyway. ¡°It seemed a lot more personal than just Demon versus Witch.¡±


    The teacher nodded, grasping the topic change. ¡°It is. Dakunaito is obsessed with personal honor, though we¡¯ve never been clear on what, exactly, Thunder Witch did to impugn it. If Nariko knew, it amused her too much to share it, and as you¡¯ve likely noticed, Dakunaito, himself, is rarely in a talkative mood. Suffice it to say that she has personally slighted him deep enough that he believes only her death in combat by his hand can set it right.¡±


    She puzzled on that for a bit, however, twirling a lock of her white hair in thought. ¡°Still, that makes his behavior lately odd. Something must have made him desperate if he was willing to jump you the other night and catch you unawares.¡±


    Ah. Yes. That was a conclusion they had drawn previously and she hadn¡¯t taken the time to correct. Miss Sada didn¡¯t need psychic fifth dimensional powers to notice the change of expression on her face to one of embarrassment, and arched an eyebrow just before she started answering.


    ¡°Eheh, that¡¯d be because he didn¡¯t jump me. Now I¡¯m feeling like a heel toward the guy trying to kill me for not clearing this up earlier, but ¡­¡± She gave a meaningless hand gesture. ¡°¡­ I mean, you all know I had other stuff on my mind at the time now ¡­¡±


    She took a deep breath and explained, ¡°He announced himself clearly when he showed up, and when he did attack, he held back a lot, even giving me an opening I now realize was when he expected me to transform.


    ¡±For a while, I think he was just trying to force me to transform and accept his challenge. He didn¡¯t really threaten me with any serious injury until he thought I was lying to him. I can¡¯t say I blame him. He¡¯d actually stopped by the time Haru showed up. He figured the real Nariko was being kept elsewhere, and had determined to interrogate me to decide on what to do next.¡±


    She reached down and rubbed her side where she was kicked. ¡°Haru actually told me I¡¯d be fine by morning. I thought she was just being flippant at the time, but I know I went to bed with broken bones that night.¡±


    ¡°The rapid healing rate when you are at rest,¡± the teacher confirmed, smiling at the thought of it keeping the girls safe no doubt. ¡°A boon of being a Witch, and an undeniable indicator that you are still awakened as one.¡±


    Miss Sada idly tapped the table as she explained the process. ¡°Even just stopping to rest will let you recover more quickly for a breather, but when you get a full night¡¯s sleep, it goes full in on making sure you¡¯re fully operational, no matter what you were suffering from. It¡¯s kept you girls out of the hospital more times than I care to think about, and saved me from answering very uncomfortable questions from your parents.¡±


    Haru beamed a million volt smile at the momentary lightheartedness. ¡°Yeah! We¡¯re like Wolverine, but cuter!¡±


    Natsumi, who seemed quite voracious and had put away more calories since the brunette had met this group than anyone else at the table, was chewing on a length of rock candy. ¡°And that sounds a lot more like the behavior we¡¯ve come to expect of Dakunaito,¡± she confirmed. ¡°And today? You said he was part of this attack, too, right?¡±


    ¡°Not so much a part of it,¡± she shook her head. ¡°It was just the couple and the grunts ¨C the dretches. They were the ones making the attack. But since Dakunaito had decided I was key to getting to Nariko, he took issue with them trying to steal his kill and defended me. He was eventually able to overpower the man in the suit and drove the couple away.¡±


    The redhead whistled. ¡°Hard to come up with a better bodyguard than him, even we have to admit that.¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°Yeah, well, he¡¯s not my bodyguard, and he made it very clear he¡¯d like to not have to do it again. He suggested one of you escort me if I¡¯m going somewhere alone.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to agree with his suggestion,¡± Miss Sada put in. ¡°I understand it will be an inconvenience to all involved, but I hope everyone will also understand the unique situation of everything right now.¡±


    A rare frown came to her lips, but it was warning rather than upset. ¡°Besides, it is best not to rely too deeply on demons. Oh, they are a diverse people, but they are still what they are. Perhaps Dakunaito is the most honorable of them, but he is still a being of evil, he won¡¯t even deny it, and even his concept of honor isn¡¯t wholly in line with what you or I might consider.


    ¡±Ultimately, all demons bow to their emperor, and their emperor wants nothing less than our destruction and the enslavement and harvest of humanity. Dakunaito¡¯s ultimate goals are no different, his spat with you is only a distraction.¡±


    The teacher sighed, however, and seemed like she¡¯d adjust glasses if she had any, instead rubbing the bridge of her nose again. ¡°I¡¯ll need schedules from everyone so I can best see who is available on what days. You should be fine at school, where we are, or at home, as demons prefer to strike in seclusion, rather than broadcast their existence. The most important times will be when you are walking to or from school or on weekends.¡±


    She smiled, however, and gave the brunette a reassuring expression. ¡°If none of the girls are available, I¡¯ll walk you home, myself, but on the bright side, this could be an excellent opportunity for you to learn more about them. If they¡¯re busy, you should consider seeing what they¡¯re busy with and seeing if you can help if you don¡¯t need to go home immediately.¡±


    On this somewhat lighter note, the last of the really big questions had passed for the time being, and conversation drifted on to smaller details, mostly the girls chatting about their lives and important people in them. The talking went on quite late, until Miss Sada finally had to point out to them that tomorrow was a school day.


    But she had to admit, there was something nice about not being in hiding about it all now, and having people she could ask about things, people she could count on. Even if it did come bundled with demons and magic.

 Chapter Seven

    (7)


    Dakunaito completely ignored the old woman and the couple customers she had in the store as he strode right past them all and for the double-gated hall at the back.


    The hall served as a buffer against the heat of the forge beyond, so that at no point was the store proper opened directly to it. It didn¡¯t decrease the way the heat of the cavern, itself, punched him in the face, though. As he moved out of the second door and began to descend the stone stairs, he found himself unconsciously timing his steps to the punctuations of the familiar hammering.


    He had expected a week or more in Earth time before his little project produced any results. Though time flowed much more slowly here than on the human plane, when it was only a couple Earth days before a messenger came for him, he had expected a request for supplies funding.


    He had no shame in admitting to himself that he was flabbergasted by disbelief when he learned she had completed his commission in a little under two weeks of demon realm time. Perhaps the old hag hadn¡¯t been overselling her granddaughter¡¯s skills after all.


    Well, now was the moment of truth. Or a few moments from now, perhaps. He again found himself fascinated by the single-minded focus Narhia had for her craft. Every hammer blow was precise and he was fairly certain one could set a clock by the steady tension and release of her arm.


    Nevertheless, he was not here to be a spectator to labor, and it would prove much harder to be impressed by her if her rushed work turned out shoddy. With that reminder, he moved so that he would be within her field of view.


    The blows ceased instantly. Even in mid strike, she halted the hammer¡¯s forward momentum cold. Her head rotated toward him first, as if her eyes needed to gauge him to determine what he wanted before the rest of her body could be bothered to separate from her work.


    Then the blade was moved to the oil bath like the previous visit, and again, she bowed and said, ¡°M¡¯lord.¡±


    Again, that was where her traditional manners ended as she promptly turned her back on him and made her way over to a section of the wall lined with shelves of assorted projects. From there, she pulled a case of black wood with bronze latches.


    As she made her way back to him, he decided he should criticize her assumptive ways. ¡°I did not say I was here to pick up my commission.¡±


    But as always, she brushed it off. ¡°You did not need to say it. You received a message that it was ready and you came. You would not have come away from your training sword for any other reason.¡±


    It nettled him that she kept calling it a training sword. Of course, she was technically correct. The claymore he favored was unnecessarily heavy, originally intended to help increase the strength of a student practicing swings. It allowed him to continue to train, his one true love in life, even when fighting, as well as increasing the mass behind its blows. It was further augmented so that when magic was fed into it, it would grow heavier still.


    Nevertheless, it was his primary weapon of choice. The way she addressed it made it sound as if he were a mere whelp. He had made up his mind to object, only to realize she was right, he wouldn¡¯t have come away from his training for any other reason. Her perceptiveness was nearly as annoying as her brass tongue.


    She had not waited for his answer, either, undoing the latches to open it up for his review. The inside of the case was lined with a black fur with the texture of velvet and three insets, which each held a band. There was a larger band in the middle top, with two smaller ones to the bottom left and right.It would be like a display case for a necklace and matching earrings if the two smaller bands weren¡¯t so large, obviously a woman¡¯s bracelets.


    If so, that would make the larger band about the right size to be a choker or collar. All three pieces were identical in design, a nearly complete golden circle. Across the entire circumference ran a strip of crystalline that resembled grandidierite, or perhaps a particularly luminous blue diamond or aquamarine, that seemed to glow with its own inner fire in the light of the cavern.


    He had not seen evangelium and hordestadt weaponry often, and he could clearly see why it was unpopular even among those with the power to use it. There were those who weren¡¯t really strong enough to fully utilize it who chose it just to display their opulence, or fashioned themselves as ironically holy. For the less fringe tastes, however, many would find them far too bright for their dreary world.


    Even as these were, he nearly felt the urge to avert his eyes. Instead, he pointed to the larger piece. ¡°Is that part of the weapons?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Her answer seemed as flat as it was ready.


    He would have again arched an eyebrow if he had them. ¡°Then why is it there?¡±


    ¡°Your apprentice is a witch that knows no spells,¡± she explained, making it obvious she hadn¡¯t dropped her assumptions. ¡°This means that she will also be incapable of transforming, their primary means of defense, and will require demonic armor. This will use her energies to reinforce her body accordingly.¡±


    His eyes flashed red. Had this been an attempt to take him for more money after all? ¡°I will not pay for what I did not order.¡±


    ¡°I did not expect you to.¡±


    Her deadpan answer took the wind out of his sails. After a moment of measuring her with his stare, he repeated his earlier question, albeit with different intention. ¡°Then why is it there?¡±


    This time, her answer was not so quick to come, and she slowly let the case shut. ¡°Grandmama has often said that I am not good at communicating with others,¡± she confessed, without the brass sting of her usual exchanges. ¡°She says I am too honest for honest business.¡±


    But she shook her head, ebony braid trailing the motion. ¡°I don¡¯t really understand any of that. If you do not wish your apprentice to use the collar, do not give it to her. I will not alter the fee for the bracelets. My only desire was to express my dedication to my work in the only way I know how. It is contrary to my nature to settle for good enough.¡±


    The embers of his eyes increased in intensity again, though not from malice. If this naga were, indeed, manipulating him, she was a foe beyond his ken.


    * * *


    It was Friday morning, and she and Haru were making their way to school. Regardless of the schedule for who she was with at the end of the day, Haru was insistent on walking to school with her brunette friend in the mornings. She insisted that it was a time-honored tradition and would not see it violated any further than the first three days already had.


    At least it didn¡¯t feel like an escort. Haru didn¡¯t make her feel like she had a security detail like Natsumi, or reminded her about the danger she was in by jumping at shadows like Ran. The first had walked her home after the meeting, and insisted on walking ahead of her at all times and checking every intersection before allowing the brunette to cross. The latter, poor Ran, had been such a bundle of nerves yesterday that she felt more like she needed to be protecting the timid thing than the other way around.


    It hadn¡¯t been fruitless, though. Both walks had given her greater insight into the girls. Natsumi was intense in all aspects of her life, she was gathering, and thrived in conflict where she could release all of that energy. A lack of it left her bitter and tempestuous, and she¡¯d start lashing out at her in a reflexive search for it.


    Refusing to provide it had continued to make the redhead uncomfortable, and she couldn¡¯t help but wonder how long it would take her to realize that was a kind of conflict, too.


    Ran, on the other hand, was her complete opposite. She wanted nothing more than to withdraw from all conflict and just glide through life isolated from having to take any independent action that could result in failure or discomfort.


    She got the impression the gunmetal girl also hated that state, however, and viewed herself as a spineless coward. Even the mention of Natsumi would brighten her eyes, indicating a strong idolization of the redhead. Bringing up other members produced no reaction quite as strong, though she had a lot of respect for Reina and her ability to take command and speak in front of crowds with such decisiveness.


    Haru, on the other hand, just walked beside her and made conversation. When the talking would start to get to be too much, she¡¯d retract without having to be told, and for a while, they would just enjoy the scenery until it was natural to start back up again.


    Haru talked about things they had done in the past that things brought to mind, and they would share laughter over things that were new to her and old memories to the blonde. She¡¯d tell her who people were that they saw on the way and how they¡¯d interacted in the past so she wouldn¡¯t feel like she was talking to strangers.


    All in all, even if the topics were old, the blonde never made them feel like she was filling her in on information she was expected to know or made her feel like she had to give the right response to fit into Haru¡¯s perception of her. If anything, Haru was excited and amused when she expressed disbelief or surprise at something attributed to her, which always seemed to make the punchline funnier for both of them.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Walking to school in the morning with Haru, she was realizing, was quickly becoming the part of the day she felt most like herself, most like she could be herself. No expectations, no shoes to fill, just a lifetime of stories for both of them to relive. This was only the second day she had walked with Haru, and she was already seeing why she¡¯d fight to protect her.


    ¡°So,¡± Haru asked eventually, ¡°have you gotten your groceries for the weekend yet?¡±


    The blonde probably knew the answer before it came from the blinking, blank expression on her face. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to get groceries?¡±


    Haru covered her mouth with a gasp. ¡°Oh! I guess it hasn¡¯t come up with your parents since it¡¯s just expected, sorry, I should have thought of it sooner!¡±


    She held up a finger to motion toward an important detail. ¡°Your parents are away from home every weekend. It¡¯s for your dad¡¯s work, but they use it as a chance for a night to themselves. That means you¡¯re in charge of the house, and you like using it to cook your own meal for you and your little brother. When your sister was still at home, she¡¯d only do leftovers, so you wanted to do something more.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she comprehended, ¡°so I¡¯m just picking up what I need for one meal?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, breakfast is usually just cereal, and Yoshi goes out with friends during the day, so it¡¯s just the one meal.¡± After a moment, the blonde gasped again. ¡°Wait! Oh no! I didn¡¯t even think of that!¡±


    That worried her, and she turned toward Haru with wide, startled eyes. ¡°What?! What¡¯s wrong?!¡±


    And Haru turned to her and looked sincerely concerned about the horrible possibility. ¡°You ¡­ you can cook, can¡¯t you?¡±


    The wide eyes collapsed into a blank, dumb stare for several long moments, and she was unable to come up with a response. That had been her reaction to such a possibility? She¡¯d briefly thought something horrible had happened, like she¡¯d left the stove on or had a puppy in a refrigerator.


    Haru didn¡¯t seem to dwell on it, however, and promptly began smiling again. ¡°Oh well, I¡¯m walking home with you today, so we can stop by the store and make a trip out of it!¡±


    The discussion shifted then into what to make, what foods the brunette thought she liked and some of the things Haru knew Nariko liked to make. Apparently, Riko was at a level where she was competent at basic dishes and some baking, so the things she had liked to make were usually abundant in rice and simple in seasoning.


    The brunette was starting to move into whether or not Haru thought it would be a good idea to try something more western, or if it would be too unexpected by those who knew her.


    Both girls stopped mid-sentence along a road that wasn¡¯t supposed to be empty. Though she¡¯d only felt the sensation twice before, she didn¡¯t need Haru to tell her what it was and reflexively put herself in front of the blonde.


    ¡°Did you forget that you are not the one able to transform?¡± An increasingly familiar black demi-giant stepped around the corner ahead of them.


    ¡°Da-kun!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, he hates it when you call him that.¡± The brunette turned her attention back to the demon. ¡°And maybe I just don¡¯t want her nose breaking again. She was quite distraught over it last time.¡±


    Behind her, Haru reflexively grabbed her nose, but Dakunaito growled in complete lack of amusement. ¡°Quippy, they called it,¡± he muttered. ¡°A little dog¡¯s yap is more apt.¡±


    When he started toward them, Haru pushed past her as light began to gather around her. ¡°Stay away from her, Da--¡±


    The sentence never finished. The demon held a hand toward the blonde as a field enveloped her and hauled her off of her feet, then he made a motion away from him and she went flying across the road into the wall of a flower shop.


    She started toward Haru¡¯s collapsed form on impulse, but Dakunaito¡¯s words stopped her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, her nose should be fine.¡±


    Left with little other option, she turned back to face him. ¡°Okay, I had that coming,¡± she admitted, though she stayed ready to move to the best of her ability if his mood changed again. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you didn¡¯t want her transformation to alert the others there was trouble.¡±


    He took several more steps toward her, she took another away. ¡°Been taking remedial lessons, have you?¡±


    ¡°Just something you always seem to be complaining about.¡±


    He grunted at that point. ¡°It bought me time, nothing more. They can tell when a demon has entered your plane of existence, but can¡¯t tell the difference between spying and an ambush until fighting actually breaks out. The longer we all remain in one place, the more suspicious they will become.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re not here for a fight and you¡¯ve not come for your answers yet,¡± she concluded, ¡°then what do you want?¡±


    Instead of answering immediately, he eyed the way she was standing a little longer. ¡°You have drawn such conclusions, yet you stand there like a warrior ready to do battle.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve met twice, Dakunaito,¡± she pointed out, ¡°and both times, you made it clear I¡¯m on borrowed time. If I don¡¯t know your intent, the only thing I can do is be as ready as I can for the worst.¡±


    ¡°You failed at that when you took Flare Witch as a bodyguard.¡±


    From across the street, the still-crumpled blonde raised a wavering arm. ¡°I¡¯m still conscious,¡± she complained groggily. ¡°I can hear you!¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t complain about it from the sidewalk,¡± the brunette called back before addressing the demon in front of her once again. ¡°We figured just having me not alone would be enough to discourage targeting me directly.¡±


    Another grunt, more recognition that she answered than any meaningful communication. ¡°And now?¡±


    She considered her answer for a moment. ¡°Now, I¡¯m figuring you haven¡¯t answered my question yet.¡±


    ¡°The strong get to demand answers,¡± he replied, his voice deepening in command. ¡°The weak earn them. Present your wrists to me.¡±


    The demand caught her off-guard, throwing her into stunned silence for a moment. ¡°Uh, sorry, did you say my wrists?¡±


    ¡°Now!¡±


    The shout made her flinch a little at its suddenness, but she still didn¡¯t immediately comply. She watched him for a moment, debating her situation and what was likely to follow. And then she held out her arms before her, fists toward the demon.


    It was his turn to stare at her. He shook his head in disapproval. ¡°Why would you do that? You don¡¯t know what I intend. I could bind you, rip your limbs off of you, abduct you. Your foolishness could destroy you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not offering them to just any demon,¡± she explained her reasoning. ¡°I¡¯m offering them to you.¡±


    ¡°The demon that desires your death more than any other.¡±


    ¡°No, you desire Thunder Witch¡¯s death,¡± she countered readily. ¡°You already see me as a different person from her, which means I fall under your honor¡¯s rules for a noncombatant.


    ¡±If you bound me, you would not attack me. If you took my limbs, you would ensure I did not die. If you abducted me, my life would not be in danger from you. If I ran from you, however, you would strike me down for cowardice. If I refused to cooperate, you would beat me as a fool until I complied for mercy or the other witches arrived.¡±


    She shook her still-outstretched wrists for emphasis. ¡°If I comply and it¡¯s not out of cowardice, you wouldn¡¯t strike me down without putting a sword in my hand first, am I on the mark?¡±


    He growled in deeper irritation than she expected, but with a motion, pulled two golden circles from his side that hadn¡¯t been there before, as if he had pulled them from some hidden pocket within his cloak. He grabbed both of her forearms at once easily within his other hand and twisted them up above her to get to them before slapping one circle over each wrist, then tossed her aside to the dirt just off the sidewalk.


    As the demon turned to walk away, it was actually Haru who called out to him. ¡°Wait! Da-kun! What did you do to her?¡±


    His eyes flared at the name, and his hand clenched around his sword, but he turned back to the brunette who was examining the devices. ¡°I put a sword in her hand,¡± he growled, the word choice deliberate. ¡°If she can figure out how to use it.¡± And then he was gone.


    As soon as they were alone again, she hurried across the street toward the flower shop to help the blonde back to her feet, getting Haru¡¯s arm over her shoulder. ¡°Haru, are you alright?¡±


    ¡°I hate fighting Da-kun,¡± she gasped out. ¡°Give me a breather. There.¡± She pointed to a bench along the way, and they made their way over.


    Once they sat down, the brunette looked back to the flower shop, where there was a suspiciously shaped indent. ¡°Witches really are hardy, huh?¡±


    ¡°Not unless we¡¯re transformed,¡± the blonde corrected tenderly, obviously still in some degree of pain, ¡°but you¡¯d be amazed what you can survive when it doesn¡¯t kill you outright. Pretty sure the impact broke my spine for a little bit. My toes are going to be tingling till lunch ¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­ Does that happen a lot?¡±


    Haru rolled her eyes. ¡°If this turns into another terrible fighter lecture, can it at least wait until I can stand?¡±


    ¡°I mean, you are,¡± she admitted, really wondering if the girls ever actually practiced this stuff, or made a habit of running in on untrained instinct, though she tried to say it more in jest than in insult, ¡°but I was asking out of worry. You sound both remarkably sure of what you broke and very unconcerned by it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I get it,¡± the blonde drawled, a mischievous light overshadowing the pain on her face for a moment. ¡°You hear broken back and think, oh no, end of the world! You still don¡¯t get it, you still think you¡¯re human.¡±


    She arched an eyebrow at that, not sure if she was getting set up for a prank or not. ¡°Witches aren¡¯t human?¡±


    Haru leaned back against the bench, letting her body stop supporting itself for a bit. ¡°Well, to be honest, we probably are, but the differences between us and a regular, run of the mill human are pretty crazy, especially once we awaken. Like your ribs. I don¡¯t think for a moment you were exaggerating the first night of school when you said they were in pieces. Maybe you thought you were exaggerating; after all, who walks home with a belly full of rib splinters?


    ¡±The answer is, we do. In that breather you had, your body pulled itself together enough that you were just in pain instead of in pieces. By the time you had a good night¡¯s rest and woke up in the morning, no doctor in the world would have found any indication you¡¯d broken a single bone in your entire life, much less half your rib cage.¡±


    She thought about that for a moment, reflected back on her first aware night in this life. ¡°When it doesn¡¯t kill you outright, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Haru nodded. ¡°Nobody ever died from a broken back, as far as I know. Worst it gets is the cause of the cause. I¡¯m not going to lie, there was a little bit there I¡¯m sure I was paralyzed, but with a few moments of rest, I¡¯ll be able to walk on to school. Breather recoveries aren¡¯t super powerful, though. What I really need is a solid nap, but then I¡¯d be late for school. Compared to those, just resting is super slow and can be pretty uncomfortable.¡±


    The blonde let her head roll to the side slightly to give her friend a stare. ¡°Fair warning, don¡¯t slap me in the back unless you want to be carrying me the rest of the way. The breather recovery seems more just for getting us back on our feet so we don¡¯t get run through or something.¡±


    ¡°Hrmm ¡­¡± She looked back to the dent. ¡°Still, pretty crazy, like you said.¡±


    ¡°Hehe,¡± the blonde chuckled as she reached in to pat her own chest. ¡°You keep forgetting what a greenhorn you are in all of this. Don¡¯t worry, your upperclassman witch will make sure you know everything you need to know! You¡¯ll know how much you can take and what you can survive!¡±


    ¡°And when to hold your nose.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Haru¡¯s squawk drove her to turn on the bench a little, a good sign, not that she noticed. ¡°Stop bringing up my nose, already!¡±


    She grinned back at the wind being taken out of the boisterous girl¡¯s sails. ¡°Can¡¯t be helped, I¡¯ve got less than a week¡¯s worth of material to draw on.¡±


    Apparently, Haru puffed her cheeks when she pouted. ¡°Yeah, well, you¡¯re running out of time you can use that as an excuse!¡±


    ¡°All the more reason to use it as long as I can.¡±


    She pouted a bit longer, then finally leaned back again as she muttered, ¡°Da-kun called you a yapping little dog ¡­¡±


    Haru sighed, however, and held her hands out without turning her torso. ¡°Here, let me see what he put on you.¡±


    When the brunette put the braceleted wrists in her hands, the blonde turned them over, running her fingers over the surfaces. ¡°It¡¯s so smooth ¡­¡± Light followed the trailing of her fingertips against the material, but whatever she was looking for, she soon shook her head.


    ¡°Sorry, Riko, I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m looking at here. All I can really say is that my purification arts aren¡¯t picking up any curses on it, but I can¡¯t imagine a world where it¡¯s that easy. We should have Sarasa and Reina look them over after school. Reina¡¯s purification magic is much stronger than mine, and I¡¯m sure Sarasa will know what these things are.¡±


    She nodded in agreement. ¡°Speaking of, how¡¯s the spine?¡±


    ¡°Better. I should be able to walk now. We should get going. Miss Sada will give me a pass if I need it, but people ask fewer questions if we¡¯re not late in the first place.¡±

 Chapter Eight

    (8)


    The club room was almost remarkable in how unremarkable it was. It really did look like just another room, with a large table in the center, folding chairs around it, a small closet, and a television and DVD player on a rolling stand. Natsumi even had snacks out she was already working on while Ran dutifully took the opportunity to get a head start on the weekend¡¯s homework. No one walking by would ever be able to tell the Witch Club from any other media club in the school.


    Even with the teacher and club president pouring over a golden set of bracelets.


    Miss Sada let out a low hum as she delicately ran her fingertips over them, as if fearful they might evaporate in front of her. ¡°Evangelium and hordestadt, I never dreamed I¡¯d lay my eyes on this level of demon weaponry without laying siege to the imperial palace, itself. Whatever you had to do to get this kind of favor, Miss Kelly, keep it up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that shouldn¡¯t be too hard,¡± the brunette replied with flat sarcasm. ¡°I only had to lose all memory of the guy that wants me dead. Perfectly safe to repeat.¡±


    ¡°I am being strictly jovial, dear, I assure you,¡± the teacher responded after a short chuckle. ¡°Our dear old friend spared no expense on your behalf, they appear quite well-made, too. He must have commissioned a very revered craftsman for it.¡±


    ¡°We get it, Miss Sada,¡± Haru put in, shouldering into the conversation. ¡°They¡¯re really, really valuable. That¡¯s great. But what are they? You called them weapons, but they don¡¯t look like any weapon I¡¯ve ever seen, much less one Riko would use.¡±


    The white-haired woman got a smile on her face that was typical of her going into teacher mode. ¡°Well, you see, dear, demons don¡¯t transform like you witches. Not usually, anyway.¡±


    She motioned toward the bracelets. ¡°Instead, they use equipment like this to automatically channel their energies. The end result is more or less the same, with a few minor trade-offs.


    ¡±For example, you can¡¯t really be stripped of your gear because it doesn¡¯t exist separately from you, but at the same time, at least some small part of your magic is always tied up in creating it in the first place. As witches, you possess immensely high magic levels, but are throttled by how much your mortal body can channel, which is why strenuous fighting causes burnout to your body long before you¡¯re actually out of magic.¡±


    She thought for a moment, then held her hands wide. ¡°Imagine a great basin held back by a dam, and that dam lets through just enough water to fill a small stream on the other side. If you let more water than that through, you¡¯re still not going to drain the basin, but you¡¯ll flood the stream.


    ¡±Since your transformation is pulling from the basin instead of the stream, it¡¯s not an issue to maintain it like your casting is. You¡¯re never really going to notice the draw. Demons, on the other hand, have a river that can be as wide as their basin even for spells, but theirs aren¡¯t quite as uniform in size.


    ¡±Dretches, for example, have pitiful basins that are only larger than the average human¡¯s because it¡¯s like comparing a small bundle of grass to one blade of it. At the other end of the scale, the basins of greater demons are, for all intents and purposes, on par with witches.¡±


    She picked one of the bracelets up from the table and turned it over in her grip. ¡°The thing is, they¡¯re always fighting. Even when they aren¡¯t fighting others, they have to be wary of getting attacked in a moment of weakness by one of their own. The fastest way to a promotion, after all, is to take out anyone else in position for it.


    ¡±If they relied on transformations to be combat ready, they¡¯d have to go around transformed all the time. Obviously, this would be incredibly inconvenient, so they developed as a society opting to arm themselves instead of having to survive an ambush while defenseless long enough to cast a spell.¡±


    Now, Miss Sada actually slipped the bracelet on to her wrist. Despite being sized a moment earlier for the brunette¡¯s wrist, it conformed perfectly now to hers. ¡°The thing is, you can¡¯t just make a steel sword and call it good for a magic weapon. Different materials and combinations of materials have different levels of resistance to the flow of magic, exactly, remarkably, as you would describe electrical conductivity.¡±


    She held her hands out to illustrate a bowl with them. ¡°To go back to our basin analogy, the more water you want to release from the dam at one time, the wider the stream bed needs to be. The width in this scenario, then, is the arcane resistance of the material. The lower the resistance, the wider the channel.


    ¡±Demons use a variety of materials for this, using more common but less conductive ones to arm weaker demons like the dretches, while rarer but more conductive ones are used for the gear of more powerful demons.¡±


    She held up her wrist and tapped the bangle with her fingertip from the opposite hand. ¡°Evangelium and hordestadt, however, are extremely difficult to make, but come together to make an arcane superconductor, with effectively zero resistance. Its rarity and the simple fact that few demons outside of the imperial family have big enough basins for it to make a difference over the next material down means that it is almost never used, though.¡±


    Natsumi was getting visibly agitated. ¡°Miss Sada, you¡¯re lecturing. Okay, the stuff channels magic really, really well. How is it a weapon? Is it some sort of blaster?¡±


    But the fifth dimensional being merely grinned like an imp. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±


    Every set of eyes at the table stared flat and dumbstruck at her as she seemed to revel in the reaction.


    ¡°But you called it a weapon,¡± Ran put in quietly, her homework forgotten for the moment. ¡°You recognized it as one, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    The brunette¡¯s mind went back to the dretch weaponry she had used a couple days prior, and it suddenly clicked. ¡°Demon weapons are mimetic!¡± she provided quickly, noticing out of the side of her field of vision how Miss Sada¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°They change according to who wields them!¡±


    She turned her attention to the teacher. ¡°So these bracelets must be some sort of ¡­¡± now she floundered for just the right word, ¡°concealed state that can be called into the form of an actual weapon, then, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh my, Miss Kelly,¡± the white-haired woman praised, ¡°you¡¯re going to have to share your tutors with the rest of the class. They¡¯re going to be terribly cross if you get too far ahead of them.¡±


    ¡°Ehehe ¡­¡± She scratched the back of her head for a moment. ¡°Sorry, Dakunaito told me. I disarmed a couple dretches in that attack. Their weapons changed a little when I picked them up, but immediately started to overload. He said all demon weapons can change at least a little to fit the user. He must have shelled out extra to get these hidden since humans can¡¯t walk around armed to the teeth.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. And would you mind telling me what kind of weapons you took from them?¡±


    ¡°A sword,¡± she provided immediately, then considered again. ¡°A sword and a gun.¡±


    Sarasa held her arm with the bracelet on it diagonally across her so that it wasn¡¯t pointing at anyone, and the next moment, the bracelet flashed with energy.


    By the time it faded from their eyes, the teacher¡¯s hand held a sword with a large, triangular blade nearly three feet in length. Gold edges ran from the base of the blade to the tip on either side and framed a field of amorphous white energy, with a line of half a dozen evenly spaced, light blue, hollow circles running down the middle in line with the hilt and the tip.


    Miss Sada let the girls gasp and ogle for a moment, then stepped away from the table, making a few very gentle swings and safely avoiding getting anywhere near anything.


    ¡°Oh my, but I could get used to one of these.¡± She smiled, however, as she turned it around to offer the hilt toward the brunette. ¡°But I believe this one belongs to you, dear.¡±


    She looked at the ludicrously fancy weapon for a moment, but then reached out to take it by the handle, not quite missing the glint in her history teacher¡¯s eye.


    When her hand closed around the hilt, the weapon flashed again, becoming slimmer and more functional, in the same way the dretch sword had done, a golden yellow blade with a light blue fuller and ivory handle. The gold and ivory wrapped together in the flat cross guard, and more of the blue stone extruded as if an insert in the pommel. She could immediately tell it was lighter than it looked, as she expected it to drag her hand down and had reflexively pushed up against weight that failed to materialize.


    Miss Sada, meanwhile, was looking down at the sword with a smug smile on her face, no doubt comparing it to the appearance it had in her grip. ¡°Oh, what a lack of imagination you have, Miss Kelly!¡±


    She frowned at the teasing, though not really in offense. ¡°Maybe I just like my swords functional.¡± She brought it around in front of her, carefully placing the flat of the blade in her other hand as she examined it more closely. ¡°But how do I turn it on and off?¡±


    ¡°Concentration, dear,¡± the teacher answered. ¡°It responds to your will. Just as it changed to take the form of how you picture the concept of a sword, it will change if you picture it doing so. Imagine it as a bracelet around your wrist.¡±


    It took a moment, and she had to close her eyes to focus, but again the weapon flashed, and now it was once again a bracelet on her right wrist. She opened her eyes and held the limb up before her, turning it over in wonder.


    ¡°Same thing in reverse to draw it again, dear,¡± Miss Sada urged. ¡°Imagine it as a sword in your hand.¡±


    Again, it was difficult to do at first, though it happened a little faster, and soon, the weapon was in her hand again as if it had never been a bracelet. It took more than simply imagining it, she was figuring out. There was an assertion of will that was hard to describe before the weapon actually shifted.


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    ¡°¡­ That is handy,¡± Ran quietly understated what might have been everyone¡¯s thoughts at the table, judging from their expressions.


    ¡°Very,¡± the white-haired woman agreed. ¡°You¡¯ll need to practice, but the more you sheathe and draw it, the better you¡¯ll get.¡± She raised a hand to stop the brunette when she reached for the other bracelet. ¡°Oh, but practice the gun at home, dear. We are still on school property, after all.¡±


    ¡°Is it safe, though?¡± Haru looked between both her teacher and her upperclassman. ¡°I mean, I couldn¡¯t detect anything bad in it, but ¡­¡±


    ¡°Neither could I,¡± Reina replied. ¡°The ¡­ devices,¡± she dubbed them after having trouble still calling them weapons or bracelets, ¡°have no hexes on them of any sort. No taint, no corruption, either. They¡¯re pure.¡±


    The redhead leaned forward, her face lined with suspicion. ¡°But why would a demon just hand a witch such a rare and powerful artifact, then? It doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±


    Miss Sada touched her lip. ¡°If there is a game afoot, we clearly lack any key pieces to see it right now. As it stands, by every metric we can determine, these weapons are safe for Miss Kelly to use, and use them, I believe she should.¡±


    She held a hand up even as Haru began to inhale a protest. ¡°Let¡¯s not forget she has no spells or transformation abilities at her disposal right now, and this morning made it very clear that one escort alone is not going to protect her if someone sets their mind to getting to her.


    ¡±Maybe we were naive and arrogant to believe otherwise. Maybe Dakunaito really does value getting to the Thunder Witch that highly. Maybe, maybe, maybe. All we really know is that we are currently a witch down and the entire team is weaker for it.¡±


    She let the girls drop their gazes at that grim thought. ¡°But more importantly, Nariko is vulnerable right now, more vulnerable than she even was before awakening, at least then she was a nobody to the demons. Now she¡¯s a target.


    ¡±If this ¡­ mysterious benefaction can change a scenario where she might die to one where she might live, then my decision stands. She will practice with them at every reasonable opportunity until she can readily draw and sheathe them as needed, and I encourage her to practice her fighting with them, as well.¡±


    She pointed to the redhead. ¡°Miss Homura, you¡¯ll help with that.¡± Again, she cut off objection. ¡°My decision stands. Do any oppose?¡±


    * * *


    No one had opposed, and with the pressing business thus determined and the prospect of the weekend ahead of them, the girls had been quick to wrap the meeting up after that.


    The brunette couldn¡¯t say she really opposed such a short end to the first ¡°Witch Club¡± meeting she¡¯d ever attended. She¡¯d be lying if she said the spark of childish glee wasn¡¯t in her driving her to start practicing with the new weapons right away. Besides that, though, she and Haru still needed to make that supermarket stop.


    ¡°So does Yoshi have any preferences for these dinners?¡±


    The two were walking down the street in a somewhat neighboring district to the one they called home, and Haru laughed at the question. ¡°Do not give him a say in the meals. He¡¯ll insist on something like marshmallow cereal pizza and ice cream.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding,¡± she looked back at the blonde with incredulity. ¡°Isn¡¯t he getting kind of old for that kind of thing?¡±


    ¡°Pardon me, Lady Strawberry,¡± Haru replied, placing her fingertips daintily upon her chest, ¡°but you haven¡¯t exactly grown out of your sweet tooth, either.¡±


    Her mind went back to her nigh-spiritual response to the milkshake only a couple days ago. ¡°Ah ¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Ah.¡± Haru waggled her finger at her. ¡°And your mother will kill you if you give in and actually feed him lots of sugar instead of actual food.¡±


    ¡°Hah, alright,¡± she moved along, crossing one arm and motioning with the other. ¡°Then what foods does he hate?¡±


    Haru arched an eyebrow at that one. ¡°So you can torment him with them?¡±


    She grinned and winked. ¡°It sounds like something I would do!¡±


    The blonde broke into laughter. ¡°It is something you would do!¡±


    Only a short moment or two later, Haru stopped as something caught her eyes in a path between a couple buildings that led to a small ball court. It took her a second to realize what she was looking at, but then she gasped and put a hand out to stop the brunette from going any further. ¡°Riko!¡±


    She followed where her friend was pointing and her eyes went wide when she saw a familiar form down on the ground with three others in front. ¡°Yoshi!¡±


    The two girls hurried across the street and toward the access drive, but before they came up on it, Haru reached out and grabbed her by the arm. ¡°Riko, wait!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± She spun around to see what was wrong, desperate to get around the corner.


    ¡°You can¡¯t use magic on people!¡±


    She stared at the blonde briefly, trying to process what she said. The idea hadn¡¯t even occurred to her, but once her brain clicked in on what Haru was talking about, the concern made sense. If she could do, say, what Natsumi¡¯s magic was capable of and, in a heat of temper, didn¡¯t think not to do it, the aftermath would be horrible.


    Instead, she just grinned and gave the blonde a thumbs-up. ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I don¡¯t know any spells, remember? And it¡¯s not like I¡¯m pulling a sword on some kids.¡±


    ¡°Those kids may or may not be Yoshi¡¯s age, Riko, but they¡¯re as big as you or me. Be careful!¡±


    Again, she just grinned and slipped her thumb across her chin. Apparently, it was an expression familiar to Haru, because it didn¡¯t look like it made her any calmer, but she went on around the corner anyway.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Kelly? You¡¯re the one who called me out here.¡± The leader of the standing boys was lean and tall, clearly the benefactor of an early growth spurt, and he was using Kioshi¡¯s last name as a derogatory, as if it were a girl¡¯s name. ¡°Now you wanna complain about what you get?¡±


    ¡°Hehe, what a girl, right?¡± The dumb laughter came from a big but heavy boy.


    ¡°Man, Reg, this is what we get for coming out and answering somebody named Kelly.¡± This one was muscular, no doubt on the middle school¡¯s sports teams.


    ¡°Who knows?¡± the leader replied. ¡°Maybe it was a confession, you never know.¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t a confession, Reg!¡± The heavy boy looked confused. ¡°He wanted to get out of paying!¡±


    Reg sneered. ¡°Heh, yeah, who¡¯d have thought he had so little gratitude. Here I am, standing up for our school, protecting our fellow students, and this little girl Kelly wants to fight me over the little bit of stipend I ask for to make it all possible.¡±


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is you¡¯ve got a protection racket in the first week of school.¡± Her voice caused all four boys to look over to her in startled surprise.


    The fat boy was first. ¡°Reg, it¡¯s a high schooler!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a girl, you blubbering coward,¡± the muscular one corrected.


    But Kioshi¡¯s eyes lit up with recognition. ¡°Big Sis!¡±


    ¡°Heyo, Yosh,¡± she greeted casually, continuing to walk toward the group. ¡°You look like you¡¯re in a bit of a pickle.¡±


    The boy¡¯s nose wrinkled in disgust. ¡°I hate pickles!¡±


    Reg, however, looked over her as she approached. ¡°You¡¯re little Kelly¡¯s big sister, eh? So what do I call you? Big Kelly?¡±


    She smirked, but at how little it took to get his two goons laughing hysterically than at the incredibly uncreative title. ¡°My friends call me Riko, but you can call me Ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve got a lot of things I¡¯d like to call you, especially on your knees,¡± the tall boy replied, grinning fiercely. Haru was right, this boy had several inches on her, and was full of wiry muscle. He¡¯d be a heck of a grappler, but she doubted he had that kind of dedication. ¡°In fact, you do that, and I just might be persuaded to forgive your little sister¡¯s outburst today.¡±


    Now she laughed, genuinely, at the sheer testosterone-deluded guts of the boy. ¡°Why in the world would I be intimidated by anybody who needs two extra people to beat down one?¡±


    She watched his grin turn into gritted teeth as her fingers came down to casually rest against the lid of a metal trash can. ¡°Or did I misunderstand what I was seeing here? Tell me, Reg, did you fight my brother one on one, or did your boyfriends help?¡±


    His answer came through those tightly-clamped teeth. ¡°I don¡¯t need help to deal with a runt like Kelly.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll need them to deal with me.¡± In one motion, she gripped the lid and send it flying. It missed Reg by inches, but powered hard into the side of the muscled boy¡¯s head, sending him sprawling. While the leader was flinching away, she came in at him, fist drawn back ¡­


    ¡­ and ran right past him as he jumped away from her, and instead, she turned to drive her foot into the fat boy¡¯s middle. He briefly looked like he was going to hurl before she took him by his neck and shoulder and rolled him to the ground.


    The muscled boy was getting back to his feet, so she spun about and kicked in the back of his knee, then uppercut his chin, sending him back down again.


    Reg seemed to have rallied his senses, and was charging her with a blatant haymaker. ¡°Get off of them!¡±


    She had to respect that he did seem concerned with the well-being of his friends, but his haymaker was easily converted into an arm bar as he went face first into the ground.


    She gave just enough of a crank on the arm to draw out a cry of pain from him. ¡°You will never lay a hand on my brother again, do you hear me?¡±


    His words were distorted by the gravel in his mouth, but they weren¡¯t pretty, so she cranked it a little more. ¡°What did I tell you to call me?¡±


    That snapped his bravado, and he cried out, ¡°Ma¡¯am!¡±


    ¡°Will you harm my brother again?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°No, what?¡±


    ¡°No, ma¡¯am!¡±


    She looked over to his buddies, who were in various states of pulling themselves up, but watching the proceedings. They didn¡¯t seem inclined to intervene, either. She released him and stepped back toward Kioshi. ¡°If I ever hear otherwise, I¡¯m coming for you. Now get out of my sight.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡± Reg took the lead to get his feet under him and take off, followed quickly by the other two.


    She found herself feeling like there was no sense of victory there. Oh, for Yoshi¡¯s sake, it was a fight worth having, but as they ran, it struck her they really were just kids. Big kids, but kids all the same. They had no idea what they were doing in that fight, and never really had a chance against someone who did.


    After a moment of entertaining that introspection and once they were far enough away not to be coming back, she turned her head slightly to call back over her shoulder. ¡°Is the middle school near here?¡±


    Haru was still at the entrance to the access drive. ¡°It¡¯s a short walk from the court here. Close enough to get to without anyone being too far out of their way of getting home, far enough to be outside any teacher¡¯s authority. A couple intramural teams practiced here when we attended, a few more used the place to settle grudges.¡±


    So it wasn¡¯t any sort of lure that got this confrontation out here, then. This sounded like it was the equivalent of behind the bleachers. Though if what the bullies were saying could be trusted, it sounded like Kioshi was the one who threw down the gauntlet, if not without provocation.


    She turned to check on the boy, but was taken aback by how he was up and looking at her. ¡°Wow, that was amazing! You¡¯ve been practicing with Big Sis Homura, haven¡¯t you?! You really took them all out in seconds!¡±


    The sudden attention caught her bashful, driving her to look away again as she scratched behind her ear. Dakunaito¡¯s words came back to her, Nariko Kelly didn¡¯t fight like that.


    Oops.


    She hadn¡¯t really forgotten it, but in the heat of needing to act, she¡¯d let it slip out of her consideration. Her gaze drifted to Haru for vindication or rescue, but the blonde looked just as bewildered by her display. She had a suspicion she was going to be hearing about it later.


    Instead, she cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the boy, reaching over to ruffle his hair. ¡°Yeah, well, you let me know if they give you any trouble from here on, okay?¡±


    After considering, she bent down a little to look him in the face. Her hand didn¡¯t leave his head, though she¡¯d stopped ruffling, as she more seriously added, ¡°And if I catch you trying to lord it over them and using me to be a bully to them, I¡¯m letting you get your just desserts.¡±


    His elation turned deathly serious at that prospect, as well, and he simply gave a silent nod.


    ¡°Great!¡± She stood up as her tone went back to chipper. ¡°Well, I¡¯d say this was good timing. Haru and I were on the way to the store to decide on food for this weekend. Want to come with?¡± She knew it would be putting a hold on their ability to talk freely, but the boy needed something comforting after this encounter.


    Yoshi certainly seemed eager enough. ¡°Can we do banana splits?¡±


    ¡°For dessert,¡± she assented, glancing again to Haru, who was beginning to smile at her previous prediction being vindicated.


    ¡°Oh, come on, Sis,¡± the boy attempted to argue his case. ¡°It¡¯s got all of the important food stuff! It¡¯s got fruit and dairy, and protein if we use nuts!¡±


    She chuckled as she took a moment to straighten his ruffled collar and dust off some of the dirty patches of his uniform. For getting beat down, it didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d taken too many real hits.


    ¡°It also doesn¡¯t get me protection from Mom, you know the rules. Dessert¡¯s the best I can do.¡± She began guiding him back out to the sidewalk with a firm hand on his back as Haru moved to walk on her other side.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he relented with a pout, but only for a moment. ¡°How about macaroni and cheese?¡±


    That brought a smile to her face. Apparently, her concern about such a change in food pace was going to be unnecessary. ¡°I think we can get away with that.¡±

 Chapter Nine

    (9)


    The sound of wood repeatedly impacting against wood settled down to heavy breathing in the large, open room.


    The redhead held her practice weapon in an aggressive stance with frustration on her face. The brunette held a more defensive position and her expression was passive. Both, however, were showing signs of heavy exertion, sweat beading on their necks and foreheads as they took effort to restrain their breathing to long, deep breaths.


    Natsumi gave away that she was going on the attack again when she held her breath for a moment too long. She let out a shout as she moved in, bringing her sword down in a heavy overhand blow.


    The brunette was already stepping to the side, coming up to thrust at her sparring partner¡¯s exposed flank. The redhead narrowly managed to twist and bat it away, leading to another rapid exchange of strikes, parries and ripostes that would have been difficult to lay out individually.


    Homura was an extremely aggressive fighter, and while normally, she would certainly describe herself the same way, the brunette was heavily dedicating herself to the defensive. She focused on striking where the redhead¡¯s hostility left her exposed rather than risk committing to defending against one of those heavy blows.


    Yet Natsumi left few openings and was remarkably quick to defend against them when she tried to target them. As a consequence, over the better part of half an hour, this on-again, off-again exchange of theirs had produced few definitive blows for either side.


    A timer sounded from against one wall, and the girls broke apart, dropping their stances. Natsumi watched her for several long moments as she caught her breath before she spoke, her words sounding nearly accusatory.


    ¡°You¡¯re trained.¡±


    ¡°So are you,¡± the brunette answered back as she brought the sleeve of the gi she wore across her forehead to prevent sweat from running into her eyes.


    She had arrived with a duffel bag of her gym clothes, but Natsumi had taken one look at it and fetched a spare of proper attire. It was certainly appreciated. The brunette had been dismayed, but not surprised, that her closet had no such clothing, and she had to say this felt much more appropriate, even if they had foregone helmets.


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be,¡± was the redhead¡¯s immediate answer. ¡°Nariko Kelly never set foot inside a place like this unless it was under protest. She had her lightning and that was all she needed.¡±


    The sentence was stated sarcastically, of course, and a place like this was the dojo Natsumi studied at.


    As she had explained it, the old building had been in her family for generations, but her grandfather had employed teachers as he¡¯d gotten older. More and more, the Homura family¡¯s face had faded from the school in favor of former students promoted to teachers and managers.


    Technically, the family still owned it, but her own father had been interested in more modern pursuits like his soda shop, and her older sister hated fighting. Oh, both still had the training as children, but it sounded like it really raised her grandfather¡¯s spirits when his second granddaughter took more active interest.


    Back in the present, the brunette scoffed at Natsumi¡¯s criticisms. ¡°That wasn¡¯t really an option for me,¡± she pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I had a notable lack of Zeus powers.¡±


    ¡°Hmph,¡± was the noncommittal reply as they went over to their water bottles. ¡°Maybe it would have done her ego good to be powerless. It made her pretty conceited.¡±


    Natsumi took a drink and then pointed the bottle at her. ¡°Would you believe she actually thought her analysis power was good enough for it?! She just assumed that she could see where she needed to move and do it! That training how to do it would have been a waste of her blessed time!¡±


    She was careful to sip rather than guzzle. Again, she couldn¡¯t recall details, but she was fairly certain it had been a long time since she¡¯d fought anyone who gave her as much of a challenge as Natsumi had.


    ¡°That sounds pretty outrageous,¡± she agreed, though she wouldn¡¯t say out loud she could see how Nariko would have come to such a conclusion. ¡°I¡¯m good at reading an opponent¡¯s tells, sure, but I¡¯d rather know how to use that information than waste the opportunity mulling it over.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡± The redhead was getting worked up all over again. ¡°But you couldn¡¯t tell Miss Know-It-All something like that!¡±


    And then she just deflated, flopping down onto a bench. ¡°I¡¯d like to have punched her in the mouth just to prove her wrong. Tried to a couple times, but she¡¯d move somewhere that made it inconvenient just before I acted on it, smirking at me the whole time as if she¡¯d done something clever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to see why Dakunaito can¡¯t stand her, either,¡± she related. It could have been biased feedback, sure, but Nariko was really starting to sound like a smarmy troll, and not in the fun way.


    ¡°I hate to imagine having any common ground with a demon,¡± Natsumi agreed, ¡°but I can absolutely understand him wanting her head on a pike. I swear, I never witnessed one exchange between them she didn¡¯t spend antagonizing him.¡±


    She turned toward the other girl, whose face was identical to the girl she was railing against. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll try harder to encourage her to get into martial arts when we get her back. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I can absolutely see her in you. Even though I¡¯ve never seen her specifically in the ring, I can even see her right down to the way you fight. I can tell, just by our sparring, it¡¯s how she¡¯d do it.


    ¡±The way your eyes move just ahead of the rest of your body, that light of recognition just before you commit. It¡¯s hard to believe anyone could be so exactly like someone else and never meet them.¡±


    She leaned back again as she rolled her water bottle back and forth between her hands, then popped the bottle open again as she lifted it toward her mouth. ¡°But it sure seems to have done wonders for you. You¡¯re a lot more humble and you have a lot more self-control.¡±


    Natsumi¡¯s attempt to take a drink was interrupted by the brunette¡¯s barking laughter.


    ¡°Hah, it hurts my pride to admit to it, but it wasn¡¯t martial arts that did that for me. I used to be a really arrogant fighter, thought I was so smart because why couldn¡¯t everyone see what their opponent was going to do? Didn¡¯t they understand that winning was just about seeing that and stopping it?¡±


    The redhead¡¯s hand actually tightened around her bottle. ¡°Yeah ¡­ you saying that, it sounds exactly like Kelly.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I can see that,¡± she confirmed, giving a small motion toward that hand.


    She continued as Natsumi self-consciously covered it with her other hand. ¡°Unfortunately, the only way I got out of it was by growing out of it, and with some good examples I admired. I¡¯m sorry to disappoint you, but I¡¯m afraid the only thing that¡¯s going to make Nariko better is time. We¡¯re just not equipped to recognize the kind of people we are when we¡¯re there.¡±


    Natsumi dropped her head at that, staring at the bottle in her hands. She was quiet for a bit, and when she did speak, her volume was uncharacteristically subdued. ¡°You¡¯re not just talking about Nariko, are you?¡±


    She watched the girl for a moment to consider her response. It seemed Red had some problems with self confidence after all.


    She considered asking about it, but then thought it better to overlook it. Homura didn¡¯t seem the type to handle it well if you pointed out she¡¯d shown weakness in front of you. ¡°I was, but it¡¯s one of those universal truths. I have a long way to go, myself.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I--¡± She caught herself after she¡¯d jerked her head up to protest, but after she considered what she was saying, she looked almost hurt, or at least vulnerable, and she dropped her head again. ¡°Oh, who am I kidding? Analysis probably means you knew exactly what I was talking about, that¡¯s why you redirected.¡±


    ¡°You really hate Analysis, don¡¯t you?¡± The girl seemed to view it almost like some sort of psychic power.


    ¡°With a passion,¡± she shouted as she rallied again, sitting upright with one fist upraised like she was ready to swing. ¡°It¡¯s not fair! What¡¯s privacy?! What gives you the right to know what gets under people¡¯s skin and use it against them?! Why can¡¯t you just keep yourself out of other people¡¯s heads?!¡±


    Again, she didn¡¯t answer immediately, being the one to turn away this time. ¡°Natsumi,¡± she finally said, gently, ¡°I don¡¯t think I have Analysis.¡±


    The rage in the redhead was stunned out of her, leaving her dumbstruck. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± she explained, ¡°I was behaving like that before. What you thought was me using Analysis while we were sparring was just how I¡¯ve always fought.¡±


    ¡°But ¡­¡± she floundered for a moment, ¡°¡­ but that¡¯s not possible. You have to have Analysis. It¡¯s tied to your Witch powers. You have them, so you must have Analysis, too!¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t a Witch.¡± The reminder hung in the air for a heavy breath. ¡°Analysis may be in here, and it¡¯s just like everything else you¡¯re used to Thunder Witch having and I can¡¯t access it, or maybe I just can¡¯t tell the difference. But I haven¡¯t noticed anything supernatural about it since I woke up as Nariko.¡±


    The brunette shook her head before elaborating. ¡°I don¡¯t have any deep insight through a back door into your subconscious. I don¡¯t have some mystical precognition that tells me what¡¯s going to happen. I just look at things. I look at them and I take a guess at where they¡¯re going.¡±


    ¡°But our passive abilities are innate,¡± Natsumi countered. ¡°You can¡¯t not use them. I can¡¯t forget to be strong. Ran can¡¯t forget to be smart. Haru can¡¯t forget to feel what others are feeling. It doesn¡¯t work that way!¡±


    She just shrugged. ¡°Maybe Nariko¡¯s insight is stronger than mine because of it, more sensitive, faster perhaps. But I doubt it. I have a sneaking suspicion she wasn¡¯t doing anything different from what I was doing, paying attention to her surroundings and acting on them.¡±


    This time, Natsumi was getting confused by implications rather than denial. ¡°But if you had the same sort of ability, that means you were a witch, too. Your ability would have been there even if you weren¡¯t awakened.¡±


    She shook her head, though. ¡°If I were ever a witch, there was never any evidence of it. In fact, I¡¯m pretty sure I most definitively was not.¡±


    Natsumi shook her head out as if rattling bees out of it. ¡°Your mess is so far above my pay grade ¡­¡±


    The dismissal made the brunette grin, but the redhead changed the topic away from the confusion. ¡°For someone who did martial arts instead of magic, you sure didn¡¯t want to commit to anything in our spar. You just drew it out, that¡¯s kind of against the idea of what we¡¯re trying to do here.¡±


    She took a drink to give herself time to shift gears, too, before she answered. ¡°You¡¯re at least twice as strong as me, Natsumi, maybe more. I fought defensively because the last thing I wanted was to get into a blade lock with you, especially with how you were throwing around overhead cleaves like I was a melon at the beach.¡±


    The redhead frowned at that comparison, but let it lay. ¡°It¡¯ll be different in a fight as a Witch, though. Sure, demons are strong, but that¡¯s what the ¡­¡± The sentence faded out and died on her tongue at the same time recognition of what she was saying lit her eyes.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she intuited. ¡°No transformation. It sucks, but with the exception of dretches, I¡¯m going to be the weakest thing on the field pretty much no matter what.¡±


    Natsumi lowered her head, dumbstruck at the situation. She hung it there for perhaps a dozen seconds without saying a word or focusing her eyes on anything.


    The brunette had just enough time to start to wonder why this seemed to bother the girl so much before the redhead rattled her head back and forth once again. Her attempt to give herself whiplash this time seemed intended to whip her temper back into a fervor rather than to clear out clutter.


    It seemed to do the trick, too. When the redhead turned her attention once more to the face that had belonged to her rival, she seemed so furious that the brunette actually recoiled a little. ¡°No,¡± she swore like a blood oath. ¡°No, that¡¯s completely unacceptable!¡±


    She surged to her feet, already having the brunette by the upper arm, and for the first time, the suspicions of the strength difference were utterly confirmed as she was completely unable to prevent being forcibly dragged along. ¡°I reject it entirely!¡±


    ¡°Homura, what are you doing,¡± she demanded. ¡°Where are you going?!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re calling Sarasa,¡± the redhead declared as if naming the target of a war. ¡°We¡¯re going to put this to rest once and for all, and to do that, we¡¯re going to need seals.¡±


    As the echoes of the girls¡¯ voices followed them out one side of the gym, a sparkling blue light entered through the wall on the other side, a glittering trail in its wake. It drifted around on the air currents for a few moments before making a couple of lazy loops about the room as if searching for something in no particular hurry. It passed a dark crack in the wall, then did another loop to float in as if pulled down a drain, its light illuminating a metal face and silk ties before fading away.


    * * *


    ¡°So these seals, they prevent any damage to wherever we¡¯re fighting?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Miss Kelly,¡± Miss Sada replied as the entire team made their way back into the main floor of the dojo. ¡°They move the area ever so slightly out of sync with the normal flow of time, so that whatever happens in them effectively never registers with reality.


    ¡±It¡¯s also extremely difficult to enter if you don¡¯t have any magical powers, a boon for both demons and us alike. They like not being interrupted by random witnesses, and we like keeping innocents out of the line of fire.¡±


    She gave a shake of her finger toward the brunette as she emphasized, ¡°If you ever see a regular person end up inside of a seal, pay attention. They likely have extremely high natural magical abilities that haven¡¯t been awakened, are the target of a demon for some reason, or are not who they appear to be. If none of those are the case, it¡¯s virtually impossible to accidentally wander into a seal.¡±


    ¡°Which would be why busy roads are suddenly deserted,¡± the amnesiac observed, ¡°and Haru didn¡¯t panic the other day over how to explain to the florist why there was a blonde-shaped hole in her wall.¡±


    Said blonde visibly flinched at that. ¡°I also had other things on my mind at the time,¡± she spoke in self-defense. ¡°Like a broken spine and spooky demon bling.¡±


    The brunette turned to her, mouth open ready to give an apology, she hadn¡¯t intended to cause offense, but Haru was already smiling to reassure her she understood the jocular air of the comment had been precisely because the blonde had come out of it alright.


    ¡°Yeah, well, spooky demon bling is why we¡¯re here,¡± Homura put in, almost seeming like she felt it necessary to interrupt the sap before it dripped on her floor or something. ¡°Riko and I hit a block in training almost immediately. We don¡¯t know what the weapons could do. They could only be good for fighting dretches, or one missed swing could take the roof off.


    She shook her head with an expression of irritation. ¡°Either way, she¡¯s been fighting me like she thinks she can¡¯t win any clashes, dancing all around without committing to anything. We need to know what happens when she actually fights with these things.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Is having her fight Flame Witch really the best way to do that?¡± Wakumi¡¯s concern for her friend was clear in her quiet voice. In fact, it was why all of the girls had come instead of only Miss Sada. ¡°What if it really can take the roof off? What¡¯s it going to do to you?¡±


    But Natsumi just scoffed at the notion as she crossed her arms defiantly. ¡°Oh, come on! For Riko to be able to harm me that badly, she¡¯d have to be way more powerful than I am, and we all know that¡¯s about as far from the truth as could be!¡±


    ¡°But then what are you going to do to her,¡± the gunmetal girl continued. ¡°She can¡¯t transform, she¡¯ll be completely vulnerable to your magic, as open to harm as a normal person.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I¡¯ve got plenty of control. And besides, she¡¯s still a Witch. So long as I stop shy of killing her, she¡¯ll be fine after a good night¡¯s sleep.¡±


    ¡°Riko¡¯s specialty is single target combat.¡± Haru was stepping in, clearly compelled to come to the brunette¡¯s defense. ¡°Even if she can¡¯t cast her lightning magic, there¡¯s not much difference in the end. It¡¯s just going to be focused against you in a sword instead of in a bolt. And your energy levels aren¡¯t that different, no matter what you say.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the first time someone¡¯s come at me with a sword, Haru,¡± the redhead rebutted with a scowl as if the idea of being impaled was simultaneously contemptibly unthinkable and barely worth fretting over.


    ¡°She needs a real opponent, or else the first battle she¡¯s in, she¡¯s going to be frozen in indecision the first time she can¡¯t figure out where to run. Tamashini is the only other member of the team remotely qualified to do that, and you know how Miss Princess hates getting her hem mussed. So unless she¡¯d like to pull out her fencing lessons, that leaves me!¡±


    Staying out of this argument and off to the side, the brunette glanced toward Miss Princess. ¡°Fencing, huh?¡±


    Reina seemed stiffened, both at Natsumi¡¯s comment and someone noticing she was being talked about. ¡°A hobby,¡± she insisted. ¡°I practice archery, as well. Neither have any direct bearing on my combat style as a witch.¡±


    The brunette glanced back toward the bickering, which had continued unabated and devolved into less informative clap-back. Haru and Ran each tried to argue that the match was a bad idea because of how powerful their favored participant was, though the redhead was shunning the concerns of both sides with admirable bullheadedness.


    ¡°Well, I suppose I should just be grateful I¡¯m not the only one Natsumi swings at.¡±


    The president¡¯s expression was harrowed by the idea. ¡°Homura is a good person and a steadfast friend and ally,¡± she preceded as if to provide a disclaimer, ¡°but she possesses an excessively competitive spirit.


    ¡±She means no harm, really, but something inside of her is completely incapable of tolerating the idea she could be second best at anything. While you are the one who rises most readily to her challenges, she will reflexively, as you said, swing at anything she perceives as anywhere near her by virtually any metric.¡±


    ¡°Asserting dominance,¡± she summed up, to a nod from the raven-haired student. ¡°If she sees it as refusing to stop pushing, at least she seems to hold the same expectation of others. You should have seen her before she called Miss Sada. The very idea that I might be weak seemed to infuriate her.¡±


    ¡°That is probably more because she sees you as too close to her, actually, than something she does for everyone,¡± Reina countered, and motioned toward the argument. ¡°You¡¯ve seen how she treats Wakumi. She is extremely protective of her. She is the same way with children. But you?¡±


    The older girl actually allowed herself a chuckle and a small smile. ¡°Nariko Kelly keeps her on her toes and challenges her. She is the hero of her own story, and now you¡¯ve threatened to remove her foil. We can¡¯t have that at all.¡±


    Then the upperclassman turned toward her, and seemed just a little sentimental. ¡°You are a very important person to her, Nariko, to a degree I don¡¯t think either of you have ever really noticed.¡±


    The need to answer such a statement was thankfully evaded as Miss Sada decided the argument ahead of them had gone on long enough, and stepped toward the three girls.


    ¡°Come now, I understand your concerns, girls, but I agree that this needs to be done. We are all too accustomed to simply knowing what your abilities can do when you awaken, and I admit that even I was lax in not realizing this would be necessary sooner. There is risk, yes, but so long as I am here, no one¡¯s life is in danger, you both have my word.¡±


    She placed a hand on the shoulders of both Haru and Ran and looked them each in the eyes to measure their listening. ¡°Okay?¡± she asked, first of the gunmetal girl, then turning and repeating it to the blonde. When they both confirmed, she ushered them back to the side next to Reina and then led the brunette forward.


    Once both girls were in the middle of the room, she stepped off to the side and then gave her fingers a snap. There was no flash, no fancy animation for time distortion, nothing. There was just the sudden sensation of off that she associated with just before a demon arrived. So that was the seal going up, then.


    ¡°Okay, girls, the seal is up, you two can start when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    Natsumi was once again looking cocky as she focused her attention on the swordsmain. ¡°This¡¯ll be your first time seeing a witch transform since the amnesia, huh, Riko?¡±


    Fire gathered around the two outstretched fingertips of her right hand as she held it diagonally down and away from her. ¡°Well, pay close attention. Who knows, maybe you¡¯ll learn something.¡±


    She brought it up diagonally across her chest as the flames jumped into a rectangular shape reminiscent of a card. Then she threw her hand high, straight up, tossing the card into the air above her as she shouted, ¡°TRANSFORM!¡±


    The card exploded in the air as fire rushed down like a torrent to envelop her. The brunette almost felt a little cheated at the stereotypical spins involved as Homura turned to reach for various gatherings of flame that would solidify as parts of her outfit as she chanted, ¡°Blazing fires of passion!¡±


    The whole thing was over in moments as Natsumi finished in her transformed state with something that looked like a fake combat pose for a photo shoot. ¡°Flame Witch!¡±


    In the wake of the transformation, Flame Witch smirked and propped her chin on the back of her hand as she focused on the brunette. ¡°Well? Don¡¯t stay quiet, it¡¯s been forever since we¡¯ve gotten any first-time feedback. What¡¯d you think?¡±


    She took a moment to look the gymnast-slash-magician outfit over from shoe to collar before answering. ¡°I can see why the demons would rather carry their gear,¡± she stated dismissively as she held her hand out and the bracelet flashed into a sword.


    The witch¡¯s smirk turned into a teeth-baring grin as fire flowed readily into her raised palm. ¡°Oh, I do hope you last for at least a little bit.¡±


    It suddenly struck the brunette that she was fighting a flamethrower now instead of a punch-thrower, and she dove to the side as a great gout of fire scorched the concrete where she had been standing, the heat hammering her like a blast furnace.


    ¡°Oh-ho-ho, going back to defensive fighting so quick? Isn¡¯t that what we were trying to get around?¡± Flame Witch was slowly strutting after her as she gloated. ¡°If you don¡¯t have the guts to take the initiative, this is going to go even faster than I¡¯d imagined!¡±


    She summoned more flames around her upraised hand as she gleefully stared down at her opponent. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, though. You can just stay in the back with Flare Witch. I don¡¯t mind taking a little bit more glory for myself by filling in the gap.¡±


    She thought letting Flame Witch¡¯s gloating bring her near was a blessing. She was enjoying playing up the power difference too much, willing to close the distance all by herself. All the brunette had to do was play lame a little, and she would stroll right into striking distance.


    She timed it perfectly. Within a second of switching her back foot¡¯s position, she¡¯d pushed herself into a sudden lunge for the witch as she dedicated all of her mass into a thrust of that golden blade for the middle of her torso.


    With supernatural speed, Flame Witch jumped backwards even as the sword came up at her, clearing thirty feet between them as she turned it into a complete somersault before landing lightly back onto her feet, her laughter all the brunette caught for her trouble.


    ¡°Is that all you had,¡± she taunted. ¡°Well, I guess we can confidently say that sword isn¡¯t increasing your abilities any!¡±


    She had to get close. She had started this on the back foot with that opening attack, but now she had to stay moving, and she had to keep as much of that momentum forward as possible. It wasn¡¯t insurmountable, the redhead used clear wind-ups for all of her attacks so far. If she could just stay ahead of the blast, itself ¡­


    She had considered this in a moment, settled on it as her strategy in the next, and by the third, set her jaw in concentrated determination and launched herself into a full sprint.


    She saw Flame Witch¡¯s eyes alight, registered the expression for what it was saying. Yes, it said, come on! Do it!


    She saw the magical girl wind back, saw the inevitable course as if it laid itself out ahead of her, and she darted diagonally to the right even as the redhead threw the fireball. It crashed just behind and to the left of her. The heat bit at her heels, but the air seemed to propel her ahead even of the flames and she didn¡¯t stop.


    The eagerness in Flame Witch¡¯s eyes flickered with interspersed disbelief and fury, but another fireball launched from her other hand. Again, she zagged, this time to the left, and again, the blast landed behind her. Flame Witch tried to aim ahead of her, and she just went harder to the side.


    The redhead went for a double decker to sandwich her in, and as the flames crashed down, the brunette lowered her head and put all of her speed underneath her to beat a path right down the middle to get at least past the halfway mark of the impending clash.


    It was a common misconception that explosions do their damage through heat, but they go so quickly that the real damage comes from the force of the air barreling away from the detonation. If she really was a witch, then it couldn¡¯t kill her. It could only hurl her outward, and that was something she could work with.


    * * *


    Flame Witch¡¯s expression as the brunette came literally airborne out of the fires, cinders trailing her clothes, was slackjawed. Still, she managed to reflexively raise a barrier as the brunette brought the blade down in an overhead strike.


    Like a melon.


    The comparison jumped back into the redhead¡¯s mind even as she summoned the arcane field. The next instant, her ears popped when the sword collided with the barrier and she went skidding on the floor.


    By the time she had her wits about her, the girl whose face was identical to Thunder Witch was on top of her, already spinning the sword around to point down from her raised hands. A killing blow. She wasn¡¯t messing around.


    Flame Witch twisted her whole body to throw herself as hard to the side as possible as the sword came down and struck the concrete with all of the force the brunette could muster.


    The backblast from the impact of the sword against the hard floor rolled through the training hall like a storm, causing the spectating witches to give startled cries as they braced against the winds.


    Okay, Flame Witch noted with stunned bewilderment, Take the roof off, it is. Whatever you do, Natsumi, DO NOT get hit by that. Then on the tail-end, her ego reasserted itself. Wait, since when was I the one on the back foot?! I¡¯m Flame Witch!


    Still, there was something off about it. Thunder Witch was powerful, but she was fairly certain she¡¯d never seen her put out that much energy in a single strike without a lengthy incantation. That hadn¡¯t been signature spell levels of power, but it had been terrifyingly close. And the way she¡¯d moved on her approach ¡­


    She didn¡¯t have time to keep thinking about it. The brunette had recovered, too, and located her prey. Yes, that was the look in her eyes. Like a Terminator locking onto its victim.


    No! Stop thinking that way! The combatant that agrees they are the victim has already lost.


    That gaze fell on her again as the brunette lunged for her and it suddenly clicked. The next instant, she surrounded herself with an explosion of flame that knocked the swordsmain away.


    Flame Witch began to hover up into the air as the space wavered around her as if in a heat wave and her hand gestures grew more complex. ¡°You lying bitch!¡± she shouted down at her opponent. ¡°No Analysis, my ass!¡±


    * * *


    At that, the brunette paused in her approach, her expression changing from stone cold focus to brow-raised surprise. ¡°What?¡±


    Her own mind went back to Homura¡¯s confessions of how she felt about Thunder Witch¡¯s passive ability, but then she shook her head in stalwart denial. ¡°No!¡± She motioned as if to brush the accusation away with her empty hand. ¡°Whatever you think that was, I promise you, that wasn¡¯t Analysis!¡±


    She hesitated and rubbed the back of her neck. ¡°I mean, maybe I¡¯d gotten a little too serious, and I¡¯m sorry I got carried away, but you¡¯re throwing fireballs at me, for heaven¡¯s sake! I was just trying to stay ahead of them ...¡±


    That was when Haru shouted from the side. ¡°Don¡¯t apologize, Riko! It¡¯s a fight! You¡¯re doing what you¡¯re supposed to do! And Natsumi, shame on you for trying to guilt her into pulling punches just because you were losing!¡±


    At the accusation of having been losing, any sympathy for the brunette¡¯s apology evaporated in a heat of rage, and Flame Witch wheeled for the swordswoman again, hurling a chain of fireballs at her.


    She tried dodging and weaving again, but almost immediately, the ground exploded underneath her, sending her up into the air and backwards, crashing down on her back.


    ¡°Ohohoho!¡± Flame Witch¡¯s fingers were up in front of her ruby lips as she felt in charge again. ¡°Did you really think the same thing would work against me twice? Not when I know what you¡¯re up to!¡±


    She groaned as she pulled herself back up. All this getting knocked around without a superform was really starting to make her sore. But Flame Witch was content to laud her own superiority by letting her gather herself without interruption. Why did she keep making that mistake?


    ¡­ Why did they keep doing everything wrong? Was it because they were kids? Did that mean the demons didn¡¯t take them seriously?


    ¡°Your fighting style ¡­ it¡¯s all backwards,¡± she said quietly, letting it hang there in the air a moment before pulling herself on up. ¡°What happened to the master¡¯s proud granddaughter who couldn¡¯t wait to show her arts to the crown of my skull?¡±


    Flame Witch watched her from the air with a wary eye. ¡°What are you babbling about, Kelly?¡±


    The brunette looked down and took up the hem of the gi she was wearing, burnt but essentially intact. No, that wouldn¡¯t do. She moved up to the sleeve, where a tear was there, and ripped it all the way around her wrist. She bunched her hair behind her and brought the sturdy cloth up to begin tying it into a tail. All of the heat was making it go wild, and it was starting to get in the way.


    ¡°Physically, you¡¯re the strongest out of us all,¡± she explained as she did so. ¡°And if transformations multiply our abilities, that should make your strength completely insane right now. On top of that, you¡¯ve got the martial skill to even keep up with Analysis.¡±


    ¡°You said you weren¡¯t using Analysis when we fought the first time,¡± the redhead accused from the air.


    ¡°And I still say I haven¡¯t,¡± she answered without hesitation. ¡°But if we assume the detail is raised for Thunder Witch the same amount your strength is multiplied, can you really say you aren¡¯t just as much faster as Flame Witch as Analysis is compared to what I did?¡±


    * * *


    Flame Witch knew what the individual words meant, but whatever she was getting at, it was utter nonsense to her.


    She looked over to their spectators, but all of the other girls looked confused, too. Sarasa was the exception, as usual, her catlike expression locked on proceedings like she was witnessing something of great fascination. Even in her human form, one could practically see her tails swishing behind her.


    Lacking an answer, she instead wheeled back on the brunette. ¡°Make your point, Riko, before I decide you¡¯re just running your chops for time!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a frontline striker flitting about in the back like a kite!¡±


    ¡°I said make sense!¡±


    The brunette sighed and rubbed the side of her head for a moment, then turned the sword around, as if offering the handle to her. ¡°You¡¯re the one built to be using this thing! You have super strength and martial arts at a level I¡¯ve rarely seen, but all you do is stay as far away from combat as you can and throw fireballs at everything!¡±


    It still didn¡¯t make much sense, but it seemed like Riko was complaining that she wasn¡¯t fighting like she did before transforming. Maybe she thought that would have made Flame Witch an easier opponent.


    That made her chuckle, and with that, she re-centered herself. She should have guessed it was something like that. ¡°Riko ¡­¡± she said as if scolding her, and she spread her arms wide as if to illustrate a deep and illuminating point. ¡°I¡¯m a witch!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well,¡± she replied as she flipped the sword back again and then spun it to prop it over one shoulder, ¡°someone should remind you ¡­¡±


    And then she deliberately made an overdramatic pose as she pointed with her other hand toward the floating redhead. ¡°I¡¯M ONE, TOO!¡±


    There was a palpable expectation in the room of something happening, but as nothing did, Flame Witch just hung in the air. ¡°Uhhh ¡­¡±


    But that just made her grin as she held the pose. ¡°This is where you put your shield up, Johnny Blaze.¡± And she began to count down from three.


    Little surprise it was Wakumi who pieced it together first, and shrieked it like she¡¯d just seen a jumpscare. ¡°Natsumi, it¡¯s her gun arm!¡±


    Flame Witch¡¯s eyes widened as the brunette¡¯s grin deepened, but the count had run out with a burst of light in that hand, and the weapon discharged a brilliant yellow-blue beam the next instant that flashed across the distance between them.


    Without a shield, the blast collided with her chest and sent her spiraling across the massive room, trailing smoke before she crashed into the far wall and slid down.


    That was the first direct shot she¡¯d ever received from Thunder Witch, the redhead reflected as she rolled over in pain. By the heavens, she never wanted to take another one. She wasn¡¯t sure she could take another one. She wasn¡¯t sure how she took that one.


    She was again reminded of how disproportionate Riko¡¯s output was seeming without incantations, and again, something struck her as very wrong about it. There was no time taken to gather all of that energy, but it was also as if there were no throttle on it.


    She raised her head when she heard footfalls and saw the brunette charging her again. One word flashed through her mind.


    Nope.


    She scrambled to get her feet under her and her hands behind her and flung herself along the wall and back up into the air with streams of flame behind her. She nearly spun into another wall before she caught herself and took a wide rotation to put herself on the opposite end of the room from her opponent once more.


    ¡°You want full power, Riko?!¡± she raved at her as she began making motions with her hands once more. ¡°And you want to talk about doing it wrong! I¡¯ll show a troglodyte like you how to channel magic!¡±


    She entered a spin much like when she had first transformed, pulling fire energy from her aura into her upraised grasp as it grew rapidly into a swirling ball of flaming maelstrom. ¡°Furious Dragon¡¯s ¡­ Explosion!¡± The spell finished on the last word as she hurled the looming ball of death at her charging adversary.


    * * *


    That ¡­ was way more magic power than the brunette had ever seen thus far. There was nowhere to run from this fireball, no time to dive out of the way, no opportunity to even fully stall her forward momentum.


    All she could think about was hoping that Miss Sada was right that she¡¯d be able to keep her from dying as she lowered her head against the raising heat and charged onward, raising the blade desperately ahead of her as the only barrier between her and cremation.


    ¡­


    The next thing she registered was explosions going off to either side and behind her, billowing her from behind, but nowhere near the force she had been expecting. She looked up to see Flame Witch slackjawed, along with the spectators. Except for Miss Sada, who only looked entertained.


    ¡°What the fuck did you just do?!¡±


    Flame Witch¡¯s exclamation drove her to look down at the sword in her hands. It had been pure desperation. In the heat of the moment, she¡¯d swung with the blade, just trying to knock the looming death ball away from her like a poorly sized bat against a colossal ball.


    ¡°Did you just slice my fireball in half?!¡± Flame Witch was still ranting in disbelief from above. ¡°How is that even physically possible?! It doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡±


    Further debate was silenced, however, by slow, loud clapping coming from the entrance, and all attention in the room slowly moved over to the young man with ice-blue skin, snow-white hair and a wintry coat and leggings of a Renaissance noble.


    ¡°Splendid, splendid!¡± he praised. ¡°What wonderful displays of power! You ladies never fail to leave me awed and astonished!¡±


    A grin stretched across his elfin face as he lowered his gloved hands and turned toward them more fully, arms outstretched as if he were offering himself. ¡°But to be having such a clash between yourselves, don¡¯t tell me I caught you at a bad time?¡±

 Chapter Ten

    (10)


    The room was obviously tense, the atmosphere of waiting for a bomb to go off, and the young man was relishing in it. They were all waiting for the other shoe to drop, and only he knew when he¡¯d let it go.


    Well, all except one of them.


    The brunette took the opportunity to catch her breath, again pulling her forearm across her forehead as she moved about to get a better look at him, sword still in her hand. ¡°Sorry, I hate to be a buzzkill, and it¡¯s obvious you¡¯re expecting a response, but ¡­¡±


    He did look put off for a moment, but his grin swiftly returned. ¡°Ah, yes, the amnesia, I heard the news. You have no idea who I am, do you? Well, Lady Thunder Witch, you¡¯ll be pleased to know--¡±


    The next instant, there was a flurry of cold air that was frigid in the wake of all of the fire that had been flying about, and he was right behind her, leaning over her shoulder, toying with her new ponytail. ¡°--that I¡¯m your biggest fan!¡±


    He seemed to have guessed some sort of strike would be quick to follow, so he broke away before she took the notion to do so. ¡°Of all of you, really. I wasn¡¯t exaggerating. Watching you lovely fey spirits in battle is to see poetry made flesh!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very flattering,¡± she said to the blue-skinned man without really meaning it, ¡°but it¡¯s not very helpful. Since you¡¯re going around expecting everyone to recognize you, I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re supposed to be a greater demon of some renown?¡±


    Rather than being insulted, his smile only widened as he gave an overdramatic and showy bow. ¡°My name is Eirwen, and I suppose I am someone of renown, for I am the crowned prince of the entire demon empire.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± she stated flatly and blunt. ¡°Ice powers?¡±


    His head snapped up as his eyes alit. ¡°You do remember?¡±


    ¡°Your name literally references snow, you¡¯re ice blue with snow white hair and you wear a fur coat,¡± she pointed out with utterly no interest in nonsense. ¡°Either that¡¯s a blatant broadcast that you like snowballs or you need to seriously reconsider your life choices.¡±


    Immediately, his head comically fell once more. ¡°And yet no spell at my command could rival the coldness of your heart ¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t let it get you too down, Wren,¡± Flame Witch flatly assured him at the scene in front of her. ¡°She was about as impressed by my transformation, or Sarasa¡¯s for that matter. A real killjoy, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Yes, the initial tension in the room had certainly evaporated by this point, and Reina seemed to feel the need to get it back on some sort of rails as she cleared her throat.


    ¡°I would be more delighted than I should be to find that your presence here was merely spying on us for your personal entertainment, but we never seem to be so fortunate. I will ask you now, do you intend to attack us?¡±


    He was immediately enthused again, and he turned back toward the brunette, giving her a smile and wink he clearly thought was supposed to be charming. ¡°Well, Lady Thunder Witch? What do you think? Am I here to attack you?¡±


    She actually considered the question. She could see Natsumi choking back a knee-jerk reaction, but instead, she got the impression it was a sort of trick question. She stepped away from him, walking backwards to increase the distance as one might to get the whole picture of something to which they were too close, staring at him all the while.


    Of course, this also brought her closer to the other witches just in case.


    ¡°¡­ No.¡± Finally, the brunette shook her head. ¡°No, you¡¯re not here to attack. You don¡¯t like attacking directly, you think it ruins your mental image of yourself as a dashing Prince Charming.¡± She blatantly ignored him miming taking a knife to the heart.


    But then she raised her blade into a ready position. ¡°You¡¯ve already done something else.¡±


    ¡°Bingo!¡±


    In that very instant, an explosion rocked the back of the dojo and something came shooting out from a storage space behind the wall, flying right for Flame Witch. Just before glistening steel came down on her, gold intercepted it as the brunette interposed herself, blade above her head to catch the overhead strike of what looked like a demonic samurai full of shadows and unspeakable vitriol.


    Flame Witch was staggered by what she saw. ¡°That ¡­ You infested my family armor with a demon curse!¡± She wheeled on him furiously. ¡°You had no right!¡±


    But Prince Eirwen just chuckled. ¡°The ancestral armor of a witch¡¯s family? No wonder it had such strong bonds. Say, do me a favor, girls? If you do manage to win, could you avoid purifying it? Sounds like it could be a great demon proper.¡±


    The armor had the greater leverage over the brunette, and was starting to push down on her. ¡°Girls?¡± she called. ¡°Priorities? I can¡¯t hold this guy here forever, you know! How about the Human Torch melts Iceman when I¡¯m not fending off another melon splitter?! Can really tell it¡¯s a Homura, by the way, Red!¡±


    ¡°Can you shut up about melons for five minutes?!¡± Flame Witch gathered fire around her hands, then nodded to the others to encourage them to get transformed while the two of them kept the proto-demon busy.


    ¡­ But that was when the samurai leaned forward to allow its blade to slip down the length of its golden opposition, sending the brunette off-balance before driving its shoulder into her torso to send her sprawling backwards onto the ground.


    The motion drew Flame Witch¡¯s attention just in time to throw up another quick barrier as the proto-demon seemed driven to exclusively focus its aggression on her. She jumped clear of the follow-up, but the cursed armor pursued.


    The brunette found her feet and pursued the samurai in turn, coming up on it as it cleaved at another, better prepared shield. She tried to take advantage of it being in the middle of attacking Flame Witch, but it turned its blade at the last moment to scrape down the side of the barrier instead of making it a direct strike while it turned to the side, sending its blade skidding down to knock her thrust away.


    She managed to side step its back kick that it tried to shake her off with, but when she swung again, it turned fully toward her once more and forced her again into one of those horrid locks where its superior strength controlled her movements.


    On the other hand, that freed up Flame Witch, an opportunity she didn¡¯t waste a second time as she formed a great ball of fire above her head. When her prep work looked nearly finished, the brunette broke away, trading a thin gash across her shoulder from the proto-demon¡¯s katana to escape the lock and dive clear.


    Yet again, for some inexplicable reason, the samurai turned for Flame Witch instead of pursuing its injured opponent, but her ally had cleared out from friendly fire range and all the creature met was the massive fireball directly to its face.


    The brunette had returned to Flame Witch¡¯s side as she touched down amid the smoke and flames that spotted around the blast zone. ¡°Why is that thing so good?¡± she demanded to know as she held her opposite hand over the injured shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s just an animated pile of old armor, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Objects with strong bonds inherit a portion of the memories and experiences from those bonds,¡± Homura explained. ¡°It¡¯s what shapes their skills when a demon animates them through a curse. But now that it¡¯s a pile of smoking scrap, Sacred Witch can purify it and we can be done with it.¡±


    Her eyes widened, however, when the proto-demon sat up again, then climbed to its feet and locked its gaze on her once again. ¡°Wait, what?! It doesn¡¯t even look hurt! It took that to the face! Why isn¡¯t it even singed?!¡±


    It took the swordswoman a moment longer to come up with an answer as the proto-demon first started forward, then paused to pick its own weapon back up. ¡°It¡¯s a Homura,¡± she repeated her earlier comment. ¡°You said it, yourself, its bonds shapes its skills, right? Well, your family birthed a fire witch.¡±


    An expression of fear moved across Natsumi¡¯s face for a moment at those implications as she reflexively took a step back, and then the creature charged her again.


    The swordswoman took her hand off of her shoulder as the pistol appeared in it and she started shooting at the enemy, but swore when it just batted the beams away with its blade without even slowing down.


    It powered up to them, sword raised for a mighty cleave. The brunette raised her blade to defend Flame Witch again.


    The air thundered around them as a bolt of lightning struck the samurai¡¯s upraised sword, stunning it with the voltage and driving it staggered back several steps.


    Sparks still danced around Sacred Witch¡¯s raised hand as Flare Witch and Shield Witch moved to her either side, while Miss Sada had retreated in cat form to the safe distance of a window sill.


    ¡°You¡¯ve chosen well this time, Eirwen,¡± she praised the blue man. ¡°Your monster has us at a disadvantage, being able to negate the strengths of our two most offensive members, even so recently after one switched specialties. Indeed, I have a feeling this fight was intended to go very differently with Thunder Witch¡¯s powers intact. Nevertheless, do not forget that there are five of us, not two.¡±


    The prince¡¯s mind, however, was entirely elsewhere. ¡°Oh, the only thing I¡¯m regretting forgetting is a camera,¡± he insisted as he gave a grind of his heel in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s so hard to watch the fight and appreciate your transformations at the same time!¡±


    The brunette had been too concentrated on keeping one Homura from slicing and dicing another to notice the other three transforming, as well, but she recalled how Fire Witch had looked when transforming and scowled. ¡°Girls don¡¯t like a pervert, Wren!¡±


    The accusation seemed to actually sting through his bravado for a moment before he reflexively closed his arms and turned away slightly as if to shield his own ego from assault. ¡°It is not perversion to appreciate beauty before oneself!¡±


    ¡°It is if you record it to gawk at later.¡±


    Flame Witch¡¯s hand came down on her good shoulder. ¡°And you were telling me to focus on priorities.¡±


    She turned to follow the redhead¡¯s gaze right back to the proto-demon, and she gritted her teeth as she cursed herself internally, moving to stabilize her stance she had let relax.


    The samurai had recovered from the stunning effect of Reina¡¯s lightning, and she had let slip a crucial opening to end this outright by striking it down while it was defenseless. She couldn¡¯t believe she¡¯d let herself get sucked into the casual atmosphere they all seemed to have, like none of it mattered, like it was all some after-school club.


    No, it wasn¡¯t just that, she noticed as she went over her own state of being in an effort to track the cause down. She realized she¡¯d been ignoring it as the fight went on as if that would make it go away, but she was tired. A heavy sparring session, then fighting a magical girl, and now this proto-demon, anyone would be wearing out after such a marathon, especially with no break between the last two.


    There was more than exhaustion afflicting her, though, something she hadn¡¯t ever felt before. It felt similar to lactic muscle burn, but fainter and not tied to any muscle she could place. Instead, it seemed to spread across the entire inner lining of her body. Beneath the flesh, the muscle, even the bones, something in her was wearing thin that she had never strained before.


    Her memory flashed back to Miss Sada¡¯s river erosion metaphor.


    As quickly as all of this ran through her mind, she shunted it aside. It didn¡¯t matter. She¡¯d dropped the ball, and now anything this thing did to any of the girls was going to rest firmly on her own shoulders. This mistake could never be allowed to happen again. All she could do now was do her best to make sure none of them suffered for her error.


    It was no shock that Flare Witch immediately picked up on this inner conflict. ¡°Nariko,¡± Haru called to her, ¡°switch out with one of us and take a breather!¡±


    Yeah, there was no way that was going to happen.


    Sure, they could probably keep the guy off of Natsumi, but then every injury they took doing so would be specifically because she decided she needed a break. Instead, she tightened her grip on the sword as she followed the proto-demon, who had begun to pace. Clearly, it was looking for an avenue of attack that wouldn¡¯t see it eating another bolt of that lightning.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a flesh wound,¡± she called back, referring to her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She lowered her voice, directing the comment more quietly to Homura. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve got a bigger problem than injury. I think I¡¯m burning out.¡±


    The brunette couldn¡¯t see the look of abject shock that washed across Flame Witch¡¯s face. This shouldn¡¯t have been anywhere near Thunder Witch¡¯s magical limit. She¡¯d seen the girl fight an endless wave of mooks for half an hour straight. Physical limits were one thing, especially without a transformation, but how could Nariko have burnt through so much magic so quickly?


    Natsumi recalled how out of place the sheer force of her blows had seemed in their spar, though. In the fight against the mooks, Thunder Witch had been able to ration herself, spreading out her energy across the lighter attacks that sufficed. Could she have lasted anywhere near as long if she¡¯d been throwing out near-finishers the entire time?


    Shock shifted to mortal realization along with the obvious answer. It neatly explained the strength behind the sword. She hadn¡¯t thought anything of it before then, since she was accustomed to the Witches all having enhanced abilities while transformed, but Nariko was still in that borrowed gi. She should have been crushed by the very first cleave the proto-demon dropped on her.


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    Unless she was answering with the force of a high-end spell.


    No, it was no surprise that Nariko was burning out. Rather, it was inevitable. But she wasn¡¯t sure the brunette realized just how much of a bigger problem that was.


    It was almost inconceivable that the well of power a Witch possessed could run dry, but the body couldn¡¯t channel it indefinitely. It would eventually be incapable of maintaining the flow, just like exhaustion could rob the strength of the mightiest power lifter. If Nariko tried to block another of the samurai¡¯s blows and her power flagged, she could be killed then and there.


    ¡°Here he comes,¡± the brunette declared a moment before the samurai started to move.


    As it charged, its blade was off to one side as before, a drawn back position that could readily move to strike from any of nearly 180 angles, but she had a hunch it wasn¡¯t going for a cleave this time, and braced her own foot toward its blade side as she began swinging into its approach.


    Gold rang against steel again as her hunch proved right and she knocked its side swing away. It was learning, and clearly intended not to turn itself into a lightning rod again. Fortunately for her, this also robbed the proto-demon of one of its most devastating tricks against her. That alone might be the edge she needed to turn this around.


    Even as the movement between the two blades was carrying through, her eyes pivoted back to the samurai¡¯s shadow-choked mask, and in the following heartbeat, she twisted her wrists and brought the sword back into a shallow upward angle.


    The blow landed against its masked face, the impact force causing it to bend backwards as its oni-style mask went careening off of its form to clatter against a far wall. The victory in a clean, definitive hit against the creature was short-lived, however, as that was all that came off, and the proto-demon soon straightened back to face her with a skull face formed entirely of writhing shadows.


    Flame Witch was positive that wasn¡¯t right. Her midsection still remembered what a direct hit from Nariko¡¯s demon weapons felt like. There was no way a half-formed creature like this should still have an upper torso from that strike, much less a face. No, was her power already failing?


    There was no time to consider the possibility. The samurai had stepped back to reconsider the warrior that was refusing it access to the target it desired, then leveled its blade directly at the brunette.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right, ugly, I¡¯m here,¡± the brunette replied, not with the boisterous volume typical of Thunder Witch, but as a quiet declaration. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re obsessed with just attacking her, but it¡¯s not going to fly so long as I¡¯m standing.¡±


    Flame Witch was not accustomed to feeling as helpless as she did facing an opponent who both was immune to her powers and desperately wanted to skewer her specifically, and she certainly was not accustomed to hiding behind Nariko of all people.


    For half a moment, the words both warmed and humiliated her, knowing that this person was dedicated to defending her without criticism while also reminding her that she was dependent upon the protection. Then she felt energy building in the proto-demon. ¡°It¡¯s preparing a spell!¡±


    Shadows coursed down the samurai¡¯s arm to engulf the length of its blade and trail its swing as it stepped back in, openly risking another cleave.


    This time, Sacred Witch¡¯s casting was too slow and struck harmlessly behind the swing, and though the brunette raised her sword to block it with one hand on the hilt and the other supporting the flat of the blade, the charged attack came down on her with its full force.


    Golden energy flashed in response from her own sword when they met, but was instantly blown away by the proto-demon¡¯s shadow blow. Her knees immediately buckled and one folded before the other, tipping her blade in that direction, a ready course for the proto-demon¡¯s blade to zip down its length. It barely missed her face before cleaving into her injured shoulder and forcing a scream of pain from her throat.


    The samurai pulled the blade long from the girl on her knees in one smooth movement and drew back to finish her off for good, finally seeming to decide that at least this one had to be removed instead of ignored.


    Its blade came down against another shield, sturdier than any of Flame Witch¡¯s. Ran¡¯s arms were raised toward the brunette to project it, her normally timid face set in an expression of focus.


    An instant later, Haru shouted, ¡°Shining Lance,¡± and a beam of light identical to the one she¡¯d opened with that first night against Dakunaito flashed through the air.


    The proto-demon was not the dark knight, and had looked up just in time to catch it to the face. The spell didn¡¯t seem to do much in the way of damage, but the samurai staggered back while covering its face, disoriented by the blinding light.


    In that window, the brunette watched Flare Witch throw herself forward with a look of conviction that was completely out of place on the blonde¡¯s face, yet again jumping into melee with an opponent more skilled than her.


    But again, the proto-demon was not Dakunaito, and she was able to rain enough brute force blows on it while it was still recovering from the flash to drive it back away from the brunette still left on the ground.


    Eirwen was simply hooting with glee in the background as if things were finally getting entertaining for him.


    Sacred Witch hurried to the girl on the floor and went to grab her under the arms, clearly intending to drag her out of the way while the opening lasted, but the brunette shoved the arms away.


    ¡°Ignore me,¡± she insisted with the one arm she had that still worked. ¡°Help Haru before she gets herself killed!¡±


    ¡°She isn¡¯t the only one trying for that today,¡± the upperclassman immediately reprimanded her and grabbed her again, ignoring her further protests until she¡¯d gotten her back by Ran. ¡°Shield Witch, keep covering whoever¡¯s vulnerable. If you see an opening to attack, try to take it. Otherwise, we¡¯re counting on your barriers.¡±


    Wakumi only nodded her understanding, not finding any words and not looking particularly confident in the idea, but she managed to squeak out a, ¡°Yes,¡± and this was apparently enough for Sacred Witch.


    The samurai, meanwhile, had finally managed to regain enough sense to throw Flare Witch off of it, which seemed to be the opening for Flame Witch and Sacred Witch to open fire while Shield Witch switched her attention to protecting Haru from the force of her own impact.


    Unfortunately, Flame Witch¡¯s attacks were still fire, and as such were little more than an annoyance, and Sacred Witch had switched to a shadow element that didn¡¯t seem much more effective.


    It charged through both and literally backhanded Reina with more of that shadow energy it had used against the brunette, sending her toppling to the side before she could catch herself, and wheeled to finally grasp Flame Witch. It hauled her off of her feet by her collar and ran her back first into the nearest wall, crushing the air from her lungs with the impact.


    Shield Witch had apparently panicked about which one of the two to protect and had erroneously chosen to protect Sacred Witch from a follow-up attack that hadn¡¯t come. From her inaction now, she didn¡¯t seem able to project a barrier around someone already grabbed.


    Between the proto-demon and Flame Witch, the latter instinctively wrapped her hands around the wrist of the limb pinning her to the wall as she gasped to recover from getting winded with the impact. ¡°What¡¯s your pick with me?! Get off, you ancient scrap!¡±


    But the samurai answered. It leaned in toward her face and, in a voice with a heavy archaic accent that sound drudged up from the grave, it spoke its first words with what seemed to be great effort. ¡°Traitor. You. Dishonor. Death.¡±


    All fight instantly vanished from Flame Witch¡¯s grasp as the blood seemed to visibly drain from her face, as if she¡¯d suddenly seen a ghost instead of a demon.


    But then the proto-demon reared back in pain enough to force it to drop Natsumi from against the wall. The brunette¡¯s good arm was still raised with the golden gun in her grip, but it was shaking, and the weapon faded away even from within her grip.


    Instead, she stuck her foot out to hook her blade that still lay on the floor. ¡°RED!¡± she shouted with all of the volume she could muster and whipped the sword to send it skidding across the floor in the magical girl¡¯s general direction.


    The samurai lunged for Flame Witch again, but she dove to the side, narrowly avoiding getting grabbed a second time. She twisted to avoid its sword so it struck against the concrete beside her and then scurried for the weapon.


    The instant her hand closed around it, flames erupted down its entire length as she was already turning to parry a second strike. The golden blade that met the proto-demon¡¯s this time was a wakizashi with a narrow blue strip running down the back of the blade, but the polish of the cutting edge varied wildly down its entire length, as if it had been sharpened by flame, permanently casting the shadows of its whipping tongues in its flat surface.


    Despite being on her back, Flame Witch shoved back with enough force to throw the samurai¡¯s blade off of her and immediately rolled back to her feet. The proto-demon pursued, but the blade was no longer in the hands of someone of only human strength, and Homura nimbly batted away each stroke of his assault as flames, rather than the brunette¡¯s yellow light, splashed from the wakizashi¡¯s every impact.


    Natsumi immediately understood Nariko¡¯s sentiment back in the club room when she¡¯d first held the blade and objected to how light it felt. It barely felt like she was holding a metal weapon at all, and it moved through every motion like it wanted to move, almost as if she needed only nudge the frictionless blade in a direction to make it strike.


    She¡¯d never held a weapon like this in her life, even when she¡¯d marveled over her grandfather¡¯s mastercraft collection. And yet it struck with such force she felt like she could shatter the samurai¡¯s demonblade like glass if she took the notion.


    No doubt a significant part of that power was coming from her. She could feel her magic flowing into the blade so easily it almost felt like it was being sucked from her with every blow. She could only barely restrain it, like holding back an explosion by sheer force of will. The terrifyingly unnatural power of Nariko¡¯s blows crystallized in her understanding. She could barely think of the golden blade as a demon weapon, it seemed too perfect for her hand.


    Fighting with a weapon in hand, the proto-demon now seemed so slow, especially with this weapon, and every time the samurai struck for her again, it was almost with a sense of bewilderment that she pushed its blade aside.


    She knew that it was attempting to overcome her defenses with a rapid blitzkrieg of blows, but she found herself turning them aside individually. They were meaningless to her. She found herself wondering what would happen if she just let her restraint off of the explosion a little bit, pushed back just a little harder.


    The impact sent the proto-demon¡¯s katana recoiling away from her, so much that it pulled the creature, itself, physically back by the shoulder, causing it to take a step back to catch itself.


    This simultaneously broke the bewildered trance she¡¯d lost herself in, and she finally took notice of the rest of the room. Most of them seemed to be staring in disbelief at what they were seeing happen, with only three exceptions.


    Her eyes had first gone to Shield Witch, and Ran looked close to tears worrying about her. Next to her and still on the ground, however, Nariko didn¡¯t even look impressed so much as vindicated that her expectations were being met.


    And then there was Sarasa. Even as a catlike creature, Miss Sada¡¯s piercing gaze spoke that she was amused rather than disbelieving. Much like Nariko, she didn¡¯t seem surprised by what was unfolding before her at all. Though while the brunette seemed to have expected it, their mentor gave the impression of a mother watching a child discover something for the first time, and was curious to see what the child would do with it.


    Even Eirwen was among those stunned by what they were seeing, and he finally found his voice. ¡°What, what, what? What¡¯s this? Where did it come from?!¡±


    When Nariko grinned, it came out more as a grimace, no surprise since it looked like she was practically holding her own shoulder in place. ¡°She¡¯s a martial artist with super strength wearing an outfit that multiplies all of her physical abilities. What did you think was going to happen?¡±


    ¡­ Why¡¯d she have to say it like that? It made it sound like she¡¯d been doing something wrong. There was nothing wrong with how she¡¯d always fought, this enemy was just weird, it didn¡¯t count.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Nariko was continuing, ¡°stop playing with that thing and let him have it!¡±


    At the reminder that she was actually still in said fight, Flame Witch spun back toward the proto-demon, clenching her teeth in anger as she did so. How dare she tell her what to do like Nariko knew how Flame Witch should fight?! She couldn¡¯t even transform!


    The samurai had been hesitant to re-engage its newly armed target after that last knockback, but apparently decided the moment to consider its options had passed when her attention returned to it, and charged with a mighty overhead cleave.


    And cut it out with the melons!


    The nearly irrational thought flashed through Flame Witch¡¯s mind as she swung up at the incoming attack with both hands on the wakizashi¡¯s hilt. When the two blades met, there was a flash of light as the impact landed like an explosion, sending pieces of metal showering down around them, but none of them gold.


    The proto-demon could only pull itself up from where it fell and stare dumbly down at the scorched remnants of its shattered blade in its grip.


    Yeah, she¡¯d finish it off, alright, her mental rant continued as she began channeling her energy for her biggest spell. She¡¯d do it her way, let that know-it-all see what power really was. For the second time that day, she began a particular rotation, but it was slightly different this time. The focal point of the pirouette was not before her torso, but the end of her arm.


    ¡°Furious Dragon¡¯s ¡­¡±


    Yes, she could feel it! All of that fire, all of that power, sucking down into the blade like water into a great hole, but not without purpose. The blade was beginning to glow as if under the heat of a forge as the blade contained it all. This demon blade, she¡¯d show it, too, so much power even something demons thought was limitless would strain!


    She could feel the drag of all the weight of the mana now. As she turned and pulled it behind her, it felt less like the wisp of gold and more like a molten anvil, but drag it around she did, and with its building momentum, she brought it up over her shoulder like a great cudgel, under which she would crush the insult to her family that stood before her.


    ¡°¡­ EXPLOSION!!!¡±


    The blast whitewashed the vision of everyone in the massive room as the girls who were able to do so struggled to hold their footing and erect barriers against the heat and force. On reflex, Reina even found herself protecting both herself and Eirwen, who seemed too stunned to even consider raising a defense of his own.


    None could see anyone beyond a few feet from them, and then only as a dark shadow against the light, all other features of the room erased from their vision. The windows burst, and in the distance, even the massive double doors rumbled under the pressure.


    When vision returned to those in the room, amazingly, the armor was still barely singed, but the sheer kinetic force of the explosion had shattered it in every direction. The only major part that couldn¡¯t be picked out around the room was the helmet, and after a long moment of silence, the reason why made itself known.


    The blast had wedged it into the ceiling, itself, until its own weight pulled it back out and it clattered to the ground in front of Flame Witch. For a moment, the shadowy skull was still there, and it gasped out one last sound too quiet for anyone else to catch before the dark vitriol that formed it evaporated.


    Flame Witch stared at it for a long moment before turning to look to Shield Witch once more, who had protected herself and Nariko, only to see Flare Witch already hurrying to fret over the brunette¡¯s injuries. Whatever concern Wakumi had held over the outcome had been washed away by the blast, and now she just looked uncomfortable to be next to the two of them.


    Sacred Witch was still over by where Eirwen had been, but the demon prince had already taken off. Miss Sada had taken the opportunity of Ran¡¯s larger defensive field to wait out the attack there, and now had returned to human form to try to console Haru long enough to allow someone to see to Kelly¡¯s injuries.


    Homura looked down at the sword still in her grip, trying to form a solid image of what she thought of the thing, but nothing came. Maybe Riko wasn¡¯t the only one burning out. Instead, she let the limb drop and called over to their leader. ¡°Hey, Tamashini, you¡¯re up. Let¡¯s get this done before my grandfather comes looking.¡±


    It didn¡¯t matter that wasn¡¯t possible, as they were still inside of Sarasa¡¯s seal. All Reina really had to do was purify the armor, and then they could remove the seal and the place would snap back to how it had been before. Even though her grandfather was in the house just next door, he¡¯d have never heard a thing. But Natsumi felt the need to make the connection all the same.


    Meanwhile, she made her way over to the injured girl. She had to bring herself to admit it, but Nariko had fought very well. Not as well as she had, of course, but allowances had to be made for handicaps. It was the sword, itself, that had made the difference, of course, but the way Nariko had stood by her even though she knew she was flagging still haunted her mind.


    For a long moment, she stood unnoticed next to them, invisible in the fretting over the brunette despite being the one to destroy the proto-demon. Something in her told her the attention should have been on her, that she should be angry at Nariko for taking this moment from her, but something else told her to stop being a child. Besides, the other Witch looked nearly as overwhelmed by the attention as Flame Witch felt left out.


    Instead of making a scene, she just knelt down next to the brunette so she could set the weapon down next to her, the hand it went to obviously not currently operable. ¡°Kelly. Thanks for the loaner.¡±


    The brunette¡¯s attempt at a positive grin still had more in common with a painful grimace, and one of Sarasa¡¯s attempts to line up the body parts correctly caused her to yelp before she could fully suppress the jerking motion, but she didn¡¯t make a fuss over it and kept her body as still as she could.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s only fair. You loaned me the gi, and I regret to inform you that you are not getting it back in nearly as pristine a condition.¡±


    Flame Witch scoffed at that as she stood. ¡°They¡¯re a dime a dozen. Just don¡¯t make a habit of expecting me to replace them. Get your own if you¡¯re going to get it cut up and incinerated.¡±


    She had started walking away when Kelly went, ¡°Hey, Red,¡± causing her to stop and glance back to the brunette. The grimace was a little more of a grin this time, if only a bit. ¡°You were pretty spectacular there. Sorry for making fun of your fireballs.¡±


    The words caught her off-guard and for a moment, she just stood there staring down at the brunette, but when she processed what was happening, she turned on her heel so she could smile while pretending it was a smirk.


    ¡°Jerk,¡± was her only reply. Saying what she needed to hear like that. She started walking away again, heading over to where Ran had moved to one of the walls. Maybe Analysis wasn¡¯t all bad, if it was held by someone who wasn¡¯t always using it to make everyone around her miserable.

 Chapter Eleven

    (11)


    Haru turned her gaze from the fluffy clouds in the blue sky above her to the girl laying on the grassy bank just a few feet to her left. The brunette was on her back with her arms folded behind her head, eyes closed as she soaked in the afternoon sunlight and the sounds of the river down the hill from them. Though the blonde sat on her coat to protect her school uniform, her partner seemingly had no such concern.


    Of course, that was very much the Nariko she knew. Haru hadn¡¯t even recommended this detour, instead having been surprised when Riko did so unprompted. She had even picked out the same section of riverbank, claiming to have seen it in transit. She didn¡¯t tell the amnesiac-slash-possessed girl how often the two of them had made this very stop in the past. Better to just let her enjoy the moment.


    It was in quiet times like this, when Riko¡¯s guard was down, that Haru liked to watch her.


    The blonde didn¡¯t really see other people the same way other people saw other people, but never having looked out of another person¡¯s eyes, she couldn¡¯t really grasp the difference. People would describe someone as having a stormy brow, or wearing their heart on their sleeve, or the lights out behind their eyes, and Haru would say, yes, she understood what they meant.


    However, it was several years into her childhood before she understood that other people didn¡¯t actually mean it. They explained that these were metaphors. Things to describe other things that didn¡¯t actually describe the other things the way the other things actually were.


    It didn¡¯t take her long after that to learn not to keep insisting that they weren¡¯t metaphors for her. Looking at other people was like standing amid all of the flashing lights and noisy bells of a carnival, each one showing differently, each one erupting or subduing seemingly in abandon of the world around them.


    But not her Riko.


    Watching Nariko was like watching a thunderstorm on the horizon, it always had been. The girl¡¯s mind constantly bounced about a dozen things, never really settling down, never clearing. Occasionally, bolts would flash out from the storm at this or that matter that pulled the churning clouds away from their tumultuous musings. It didn¡¯t produce a sense of danger or hostility, though, just the thrill of seeing the blinding flash and the booming follow while enjoying the low, rumbling ambiance.


    Nariko found listening to the cool river relaxing, but this was Haru¡¯s river.


    She knew that their working theory was that whatever being had been caught by Nariko was caught because of how similar they were to one another, but she doubted any other Witch understood the depth of that concept like she did. She¡¯d never seen two people with remotely the same emotional presence to one another, not even twins, but her Nariko then and this Nariko now were absolutely the same.


    There was a greater tendency in this storm to strike inward at itself, as she had seen Nariko do when her confidence was slipping or she was feeling alone. It didn¡¯t take a great sense of imagination to figure out why that was happening with a Nariko lost in what might as well have been a whole separate world from anything she had ever known. It was why Haru was always so patient with her when she made mistakes or crossed a line or didn¡¯t understand something.


    It didn¡¯t matter what was going on in the brunette¡¯s head. Somehow, some way, this heart was her Riko.


    ¡­ It was something of an experience to see a storm turn toward you, a normally passive thing unaware of your tiny presence suddenly taking notice, and she sat straighter even before the brunette had made any motion that she was going to be looking toward her. And then she saw the bolt strike inwards, carving into the heart of the clouds like a self-inflicted dagger.


    ¡°¡­ Riko ¡­¡± Her scolding was gentle in the face of the harsh lightning, but still before the girl had even uttered a sound.


    The one word stripped the girl¡¯s own from her tongue. ¡°¡­ Heh,¡± was all Nariko said at first, a sound that was half amused, half reprimanded, but then she carried on, anyway. ¡°¡­ I was just going to say, Nariko¡¯s lucky to have you in her life.¡±


    That was ¡­ If Haru hadn¡¯t known the thought had accompanied such an inward pain, she probably would have taken it differently, an expression of gratitude instead of one of loneliness and longing.


    She turned her knees on her coat so she was better facing the brunette. ¡°You don¡¯t talk much about the life you came from. I know you can¡¯t go into detail even if you wanted to, but it doesn¡¯t take an empath to tell you¡¯re not the sort to want to. Nariko kept things bottled up all the time, too. Thought she was the only one that could handle them, or maybe that if she did, no one else would have to.¡±


    Nariko turned her gaze back to the afternoon sky. ¡°Yeah, sounds about right. Who¡¯d have figured, though, right? Trying to be a lone wolf gets lonely sometimes, shocking. But you get really good at not showing it. You¡¯re just there, dependable, reliable, plugging away. Nobody knows when you want to talk, and you don¡¯t want to bother anyone with the baggage.¡±


    That sounded horrible, Haru thought. She¡¯d seen her Nariko try to do the same thing, but she¡¯d always been there to pull the talking out of her, or just to be silent, understanding support. This Nariko talked like she¡¯d never had that. ¡°Are you saying you never had anyone to share that with? No one in a role in your life like me?¡±


    The girl scoffed. ¡°Haru, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone in the world quite like you, but no. Sadly, no friendly empaths around that I didn¡¯t have to explain myself to. That¡¯s why I said she¡¯s lucky. You¡¯re not just a friend to her, as important as that is. You¡¯re an ear, a shoulder ¡­ a balcony."


    Riko closed her eyes with a depressed exhale. "When you¡¯re on your own, you end up in a lot of dark places, mostly because nobody knows you need a hand up. You two need each other badly, don¡¯t you?¡±


    It was the blonde¡¯s turn to frown. ¡°¡­ Sometimes I wonder if you¡¯re not an empath, too.¡±


    ¡°Me, me, or me, Nariko?¡±


    Haru paused, then reached over and slapped the girl¡¯s nose. ¡°Yes.¡±


    That drew a chuckle from Nariko. ¡°It makes sense. Nariko¡¯s Analysis could probably pick up on how you felt as well as you could her. I can¡¯t imagine a one-way window¡¯s any less lonely than going it alone.¡±


    A one-way window ¡­ It struck Haru as almost poetically apt. It also struck her as familiar. It wasn¡¯t the first time that face across from her had made the metaphor.


    This, too, Nariko apparently picked up on, perhaps from Haru¡¯s silence. ¡°Something else I¡¯m repeating from her playbook, eh? Doesn¡¯t matter, just proves me right.¡±


    The blonde wasn¡¯t quite ready to concede ground, however. ¡°And what about you? If you¡¯ve figured out her take on me, what¡¯s yours?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much the same,¡± Riko admitted. ¡°You two must have bonded very quickly. I know it wasn¡¯t very long after getting to know you that I realized I¡¯d die for you if I had to.¡±


    ¡°Riko! Don¡¯t say such things!¡±


    ¡°Heh, sorry.¡± The brunette reached up and rubbed an itch on the tip of her nose with her index finger. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to get so heavy. I just mean that I can see the importance you hold to her, because you so quickly became important to me.¡±


    Riko was dancing around the issue, but Haru wasn¡¯t going to have it. ¡°And you feel guilty because you feel like you¡¯re stealing me from her. Stealing everything from her.¡±


    Across from her, the girl had gone silent, just staring at the clouds.


    Haru went silent, too. She wanted to deny it entirely, but she couldn¡¯t. Whoever the brunette really was, she was using everything of Nariko¡¯s. She was using her name, her face, her clothes, her bed, her family, her friends, her place in the team ¡­ Even her spot on the riverbank hadn''t been safe.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The only thing she wasn¡¯t using was her powers, and only because she didn¡¯t know how. Still, she couldn¡¯t bear to call it stealing. There must be some way to call it something else.


    ¡°¡­ Nariko,¡± she offered after giving it a little thought, ¡°how would you feel about it if the roles were reversed?¡±


    The brunette looked to her before Haru continued. ¡°Our Nariko is in your life, in your body, with your people. She does her best to not disrupt your life even though she doesn¡¯t know how long she¡¯s going to be there. She didn¡¯t choose it and doesn¡¯t know how to give your life back to you. Do you feel like she stole your life?


    Nariko didn¡¯t immediately answer, instead, again, returning her gaze skyward, narrowing it in contemplation. ¡°¡­ No, she didn¡¯t choose it, and it would be worse for her if she tried to convince people she wasn¡¯t me. I¡¯d be worried she¡¯d be in danger, though, wondering if she was able to deal with the challenges she¡¯d be expected to face.¡±


    ¡°Of course you would, because you¡¯re an arrogant lone wolf that thinks nobody can deal with what you do.¡±


    Haru didn¡¯t even look over at the girl¡¯s arched eyebrow that was raised at that. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t argue it, Riko, it¡¯s just how you are. Or did you forget the one you¡¯re worried about is accustomed to dealing with demons you didn¡¯t even think existed?¡±


    ¡°Her powers stayed behind.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think she¡¯d think any different of you?¡± Haru pursued. ¡°Oh no, a normal human, completely unable to use magic, expected to fight demons and monsters without even a transformation! Obviously, she would see it better if she, knowing how to deal with these things, were there, because there would be no way you could keep up with such challenges.¡±


    Nariko sighed and shut her eyes again. ¡°Okay, okay, I get it. Objection withdrawn. It¡¯d be hard, but she sounds like a tough nut, she¡¯d probably find a way.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Haru gave a sharp bob of her head in approval of the conclusion. ¡°So stop blaming yourself for this. You¡¯re here. So just stick to being the best Riko you can be, because it¡¯s the only option you¡¯ve got.¡±


    The brunette went silent again for a moment, but then just gave a quiet smile. ¡°So lucky ¡­¡±


    Haru smiled, too, because this time, the sentiment wasn¡¯t accompanied by an inward strike. She let the quiet afternoon sky and the babbling stream wash the previous topic far away before she spoke again. ¡°How is your shoulder?¡±


    Riko sat up at the words and turned to give the body part in question a thorough rotation before answering. ¡°Surprisingly good,¡± she replied, turning toward the blonde. ¡°This whole healing factor is astounding. That was probably one of the worst injuries I¡¯ve ever taken. It should have been months, if ever, before I had full range of motion again.¡±


    She grinned in recollection. ¡°Since Miss Sada drove me home, I was able to take the bandages off before even going inside. I had to sleep on my other side, but by morning, it was like it never happened. It didn¡¯t even disrupt my sleep.¡±


    The blonde, in turn, smiled in delight at the news. ¡°I¡¯m glad! When you took that sword like that, I was really worried. It¡¯s a miracle it didn¡¯t cut you in two since you weren¡¯t even transformed.¡±


    Nariko flopped back onto the ground as if to prove just how good her shoulder was. ¡°Bone¡¯s pretty dense. I¡¯d be surprised if even a demon could cut through that much of it in a single swing. It¡¯s stronger than concrete, and even Dakunaito only shattered that stuff. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like that old armor got me with a full-on cleave.¡±


    Haru¡¯s amused giggle sprung up in reply. ¡°Always so confident in what a mighty warrior you are, aren¡¯t you, Riko?¡±


    The comment humbled the girl into a bemused silence, but only for a moment.


    ¡°Actually, I was thinking of how helpful it would be for training. Our bodies already seem pretty athletic, probably because this is something we¡¯ve done for a while, but with a Witch¡¯s recovery time, even the breather between sets could be enough to keep going without tiring. And if I¡¯m going to be taking a sword to demons without a transformation, it would pay off to make sure I was as good at it as I could possibly be.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re starting to sound like Natsumi,¡± the blonde teased. ¡°And you, talking as if you haven¡¯t been practicing already.¡±


    ¡°Only enough to keep in form,¡± the brunette protested. ¡°I don¡¯t have instant knowledge of spells to destroy my foes with choreography and lights. I have to actually get in there and do it the old-fashioned way.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, the old-fashioned way,¡± Haru agreed with mirth. ¡°I remember Miss Sada telling us in class about the Greeks pushing back the Phoenicians with golden swords that cut fireballs in half.¡±


    ¡°They could have been, bronze and gold look enough alike at a distance.¡±


    "And the lights?"


    The brunette shrugged. "History''s got tons of stories about magic and monsters, kinda hypocritical of us to question them all now. As far as we know, Excalibur was evangelium and hordestadt, and the Lady of the Lake was a demonic noblewoman with a thing for Englishmen."


    The two of them followed this tangent gleefully back and forth, no doubt mixing up more historical references than they got right, rewriting major events in the colors of forgotten and underappreciated witches, demons and magic knights. It was refreshing.


    No, it was more than that. It was normal. For all of her assurances to herself, for all of her empathy, times like this felt like Nariko was actually back, like she didn''t need to tell herself that Riko''s aura was the same. She didn''t have to explain anything, she didn''t have to answer anything. When it felt like her friend was being herself, she could relax instead of worrying if she would ever come back.


    Was that strange? Shouldn''t times like that make her wonder more by reminding her of what Nariko was like?


    Some part of her said it should, but at the same time, times like these were when Nariko''s emotions most leveled out. It was so close to what Nariko was supposed to be, it genuinely felt like it was Nariko actually there and not just the echo of someone else she''d caught. Perhaps, at times like this when the two Rikos were most in sync, hers was able to shine through the cracks a little?


    They kept at the silliness until it naturally ran its course and they both fell silent, leaving the river again the loudest talker present. Haru had almost thought the brunette had dozed off when that changed.


    "Hey, there you two are! What a lovely picture, a couple of pretty girls on the riverbed!"


    Haru had turned to look at the hazel-haired young man in their school''s male uniform calling to them from the sidewalk, but Nariko had not, remaining laying there, eyes shut and face toward the afternoon sky.


    "Hey, Wren."


    The name Nariko used caused Haru''s eyes to snap wide as her head zipped back to her, then back to the boy, and back to her friend again.


    "Jack!" she stressed to her in a taut hiss, half shocked that Nariko could get something so wrong. How could she even confuse the two?! She''d have blamed it on the brunette having been half dreaming, but she knew at a glance that wasn''t the case.


    Even if she had any doubts, the sideways, one-eyed look Nariko gave her at that made it obvious that the brunette was the one confused at being corrected. Like she had been certain.


    At Haru''s panicked, insistent expression, she instead pulled her head back so she was looking at the boy effectively upside-down rather than getting fully up right away. Haru assumed that would be it, but then after seeing who it was, Nariko just gave her the look again!


    Haru just stared right back at her in bewilderment as the brunette rolled onto her hip to sit up and turn about. What?! she thought. Why do you keep looking at me like I''m the crazy one?! How could you possibly confuse a demon prince and a human classmate?!


    Poor Jack was feeling so awkward and uncomfortable at the lengthening stretch of time he was left standing there, it was like seeing a board stiffen him into an uncomfortable pose. He finally cleared his throat and spoke again as he rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, who''s Wren?"


    Nariko looked from him back to Haru one more time, and there was a shift of resignation in the storm. It was as if the girl had gone, Fine, sure, I''ll play along. Play along with what?! In Haru''s mind, she was the one acting crazy. What in the world was she even seeing to make her respond like that?


    "Just somebody else I know," the brunette was already saying to him. "I was dozing, and for a moment, you two sounded just alike. Sorry about that."


    She had to admit, despite the staring contest the two had, the girl made the words sound convincing with how absolutely straight her face was. That was Nariko, A Class Fibber.


    "Ah," Jack tried with a beat of hesitation. "It isn''t someone you''re ... seeing, is it?"


    At that, the honesty of Nariko''s face dropped like a rock into a frown with such suddenness that the blonde next to her had to suppress a giggle. "No."


    The boy gave himself a shake at that, like the flatness had given him the willies. "Yeesh, Kelly, make me regret asking ..."


    To Haru''s eyes, she could practically see the cause as Nariko''s response settled like a chill over the boy, and this time, she didn''t suppress her giggle at the sight.


    That, in turn, seemed to lighten Riko''s expression. "Was there something you needed us for?"


    Again, that left the boy rubbing the back of his head. Haru had to admit, Jack was kind of cute when he got bashful. "Ah, well, not as such ... I just thought I heard voices I recognized and thought I''d come over and see. Sorry if I''m intruding."


    "Not at all, Jack, really!" Haru assured him, sensing his discomfort and doing her best to alleviate it with a smile. "We''re just listening to the river and chatting, is all. Plenty of space if that sounds relaxing to you."


    She watched that board come up and stiffen him again. She could read it all over him. The idea of lying down on the grass with two pretty girls was for very many reasons absolutely not something that would relax him in any way. Well, at least she knew he thought they were attractive.


    Of course, she really hadn''t expected him to accept; this sort of tension was completely normal for Jack, but she also knew he appreciated the invitation even if he couldn''t bring himself to take them up on it.


    "Ah, no, I really can''t ... See, home''s, ah, that way for me," his vague gesture covered a wide angle for a direction that could really only be interpreted as anywhere but here, "and I only headed over to this side of the tracks for a stop by the convenience store here. They carry a magazine I like and the new issue just--"


    "Hush!"


    Nariko''s sudden command caused them both to jump, and Haru immediately noticed how tense she''d gone, coiled like a spring, already half-standing, eyes narrowed as she tried to train her senses on something.


    Haru began standing, too, and even Jack had gone stiff, no doubt feeling the same pumping of adrenaline. The body language was clear. Danger. "What is it, Nariko?"


    "The river stopped."

 Chapter Twelve

    (12)


    Haru''s gaze drifted over the scene. Whether or not the river was actually moving was impossible to say for certain from where they were, but its sound was completely gone. It wasn''t just the river, though. As her senses began searching for the sounds that should have been there, none reached her ears. There were no birds in the sky, no cars on the road, nobody but the three of them anywhere in sight.


    A seal. It had to be a seal. Which meant--


    "Ohohoho, why so tense, my sweets?"


    The voice had come from Jack''s direction, and as both the girls turned toward him, they saw two costumed figures there behind him, the masked woman with her hands grasping him as if mid-caress while the man with her held him firmly from behind, a knife for every finger to his throat.


    Jack, of course, looked pale as a sheet and absolutely terrified.


    "Darling and Dear, right?" Riko noted in recognition. Wait, why did she-- Oh, right, these were the two that attacked her after the soda shop! "The consummate performing artists."


    Darling practically swooned as she pulled one hand away from Jack to hold it against her breast. "Oh, did you hear that, dear? She remembered us! She even called us artists!"


    "Quite, quite, darling," the man noted, idly tapping his daggers'' flats against Jack''s neck with a casualness that only added to the boy''s apprehension. "She''s much more polite this time."


    "Is it because we aren''t openly suggesting we kill her this time, dear?"


    "Oh, what a terrible thought, darling!"


    "Whyever for, dear?"


    "Why, it would mean she cares more for her own life than this poor, defenseless boy''s!"


    "Oh, another thought, dear, what if it''s the opposite?"


    "She is polite because the boy is in our grasp?" he asked dramatically. "How mercurial!"


    Nariko slowly moved herself into a combat position ready to jump into quick movement. "Hey, as far as you two know, I was going to be perfectly civil to you last time, but you jumped right into announcing you wanted to kill me!"


    Haru knew Nariko enjoyed taunting her opponents, keeping them talking and distracted while she looked for an opening, but she had to admit, there were a lot less insults being thrown by this version of her. It was all much more measured, much more casual, rather than constantly looking for a rise.


    Meanwhile, the woman in red threw her head back as if bemoaning her own forgetfulness. "Oh, my dear, she''s right! We must be slipping!"


    The man in the ivory suit snapped with the hand that wasn''t holding the knives to Jack''s throat as he gave a quick stomp of a foot. "By the lights and curtains, we completely forgot to threaten the boy''s life, darling! Do the honors, would you?"


    "It would be my pleasure, dear!"


    The woman again embraced the teenager, pressing her body against his with her far hand on his waist and her nearer one over his shoulder. It looked sensual, especially as she stretched one leg across his, but the faint sight of a razor thin string could be spotted running across his chest between her two hands.


    "It''s very simple, sweeties," she informed them as she rested her chin in the crux of his neck. "We''ve got a little script we put together, and we want you two in the leading roles. Play your parts well, and I let this handsome young man go. Refuse to cooperate or attempt to call for your pretty little friends ..."


    Now, her voice dropped threateningly as that string pulled just tight enough to trace a shallow red line on his chest as it effortlessly passed through his shirt and blazer. "... And we string him up like a puppet."


    Jack gasped at the sudden pain from the string and desperately tried not to take any sharp, deep breaths that would push the string deeper. Haru could see the panic clouding around him like a cold fog.


    Despite the elaborate antics these two demons always displayed, they had always terrified her, too, far more than any other demons the team had ever encountered. They had an aura of cruel malice about them. It wasn''t a thirst for blood, nothing so banal. It wasn''t even sadism. Yes, they enjoyed inflicting pain, they loved torture, but not because it generated pain or fear.


    It was the detached, dehumanizing way a child might pluck the legs off of an insect to see what it did, as if suffering were some sort of soap opera they indulged in, coupled with the adult understanding that what they were doing was all very real. She did not doubt for even a heartbeat that they would do exactly what they said.


    ... Nariko did.


    Haru could hardly believe it as she looked over to the brunette, but instead of the instructions on how to proceed she expected, the girl''s gaze was flat, her storm a disinterested rumble. The blonde couldn''t understand it. Couldn''t she see a classmate was in danger right in front of them?


    It was only a moment before Nariko registered her stare and turned to meet it. There was an exasperation there, as if she felt she was being dragged along by something that didn''t matter.


    Of course, she recognized the worry in Haru''s eyes, and her own sharpened in response. They might as well have been having a conversation.


    Riko! We have to go along, don''t we?! They''ll hurt him!


    Get it together, Haru. They''re not going to hurt him.


    They will! I can see it! Can''t you?!


    Nariko''s gaze faltered from hers, but then glared back ahead at the three figures. They definitely seem like they intend to. But they won''t. Not him. They can''t.


    Haru knew her eyes were settling like an uncomfortable heat on the brunette''s neck. If you''re wrong ... Riko, we have to ...


    Nariko didn''t have to look back toward the blonde to get that. She watched the rumbling storm part for her a moment before the brunette dropped her head and sighed, relenting.


    Haru''s guilt trip vision switched to gratitude before she turned back to the scene before them, letting her partner do the talking as she strained to see whatever it was Nariko had seen.


    For her part, the brunette returned to standing normally. "Alright, what''s the script? Do we get the chance to memorize our lines?"


    "Oh, not to worry, ladies," the knife-wielding man in white reassured them as he stepped away from Jack, secure as he was in Darling''s grip. "We wrote the entire show with the expectation of improv. You just do what comes naturally."


    With a dramatic snap of his wrist, he pulled from within his coat a long, black handkerchief. When he held it between the thumb and index of either hand by the corners and gave it, too, a sharp snap, it folded into the size of a great curtain he drew away from the air next to him with a flourish.


    The black cloth vanished, and where it had hung stood a human-sized marionette carved of wood. Despite its size, it was dressed like a little girl and had a cheerful expression painted on its face.


    Even though it hung there as if waiting for a master to take up its strings, Haru didn''t need telling the thing was another proto-demon, like the armor Eirwen had cursed at Natsumi''s. Despite being only her second time encountering such a creature, it would seem Nariko didn''t need telling, either.


    "You see, we have a new up and coming star in our little troupe," Dear went on to explain. "Please give Marione a warm applause. She''s ever so shy."


    The sound of gentle clapping surprised the blonde, who turned to see Riko entertaining the request.


    "Thank you," Dear bowed, and as he did so, the marionette mimed the motion with the clumsy ambulation of an actual puppet. "You''re too kind."


    "Our tale for this afternoon''s matinee is a simple one," Darling picked up the explanation as she flirtingly traced the curve of Jack''s jaw with her fingertip. "A young bird who lost her wings yet still longed to fly crafted a new pair of gold and sapphire.


    "They''re beautiful things, the envy of all of the little birds around her. But they are too heavy, and to take to the air, she needs the assistance of the other birds. They cannot always assist her, of course. They must fly south, after all, and it is too great a distance to carry her. So through great effort, she must prove she can fly on her own ... or fall to her death."


    So that''s what this was about, Haru gathered. They were still after Riko, and since she was still unable to transform, they thought they''d try their luck with the group separated.


    "It''s a lovely story," Nariko answered them with a calm that suggested this was all an absolutely normal conversation. "And I believe I have a grasp of the performance. You want me to prove I can fly by defeating Marione on my own."


    "Oh, not on your own, sweety," she assured her. "After all, the young bird had a dear and precious friend, you see, who refused to let her attempt such a dangerous thing alone. Even if it meant they might die together."


    Even though the woman had no face on her mask, Haru felt the demon''s eyes lazily roll over to her toward the end and suppressed a chill. Instead, she put on her best brave face. "If all you want us to do is fight a proto-demon, you don''t need a hostage to get us to do our job!"


    "Ah, but we do need one to make sure you stick to the script," Dear corrected her without missing a beat. "After all, the tension would be ruined if a bunch of extras rushed on stage at the wrong time, don''t you think?"


    The brunette seemed to think for a moment, then glanced over to the blonde. "Haru, if we''re worrying about Jack, is it really alright for us to fight in front of him?"


    ... Was that really what she should have been worrying about? Riko was the one always telling her what a lousy fighter she was. Did the brunette really think she could make up the whole difference by herself after her last encounter with a proto-demon?


    "In front of Jack?" she assured her instead, assuming she had some sort of plan. "Oh, sure, happens all the time."


    The brunette''s eyebrow raised ... as did Jack''s. "So he knows?"


    That made Haru laugh despite the situation. "Of course not! He just keeps bumbling in and getting himself caught like this. Sarasa will just clean his memories up after we''re done." She gave a thumbs up and a wink. "Don''t worry, we''ve got it down to a system!"


    "Such wanton use of mind magic!" Darling had pulled her head away from Jack in another dramatic swoon, laying her free hand against her forehead. "Such utter disregard for the well-being of a dear classmate! You girls are supposed to be above such things!"


    "And I thought we were horrible," Dear agreed, directing his comment aside to the proto-demon, whose head drooped sadly.


    Their reactions clearly made Nariko uncomfortable, but her expression was a hand shy of holding her nose. "I hate to say it, but that does sound pretty reckless."


    "It''s safe, it''s safe!" Haru insisted to her friend. "You know Sarasa wouldn''t do it otherwise! Besides, we can''t just let demons attack us because he might see it, right?"


    Dear showed he wasn''t afraid of a bit of immaturity for a jab as he made a show of coughing into his fist with his nonexistent mouth to cover up, "Excuses!"


    He cleared his throat afterward. "Pardon my terrible manners. Allergies. We don''t have near the pollen count back home. Now, if you ladies don''t mind, time is ticking. How about a dress rehearsal to get you in the right frame of mind?"


    With a snap of his fingers, a dozen dretches appeared out of nowhere, nearly surrounding the girls in a semi-circle closed by the jesters and their proto-demon puppet.


    Haru couldn''t help but be worried about so many against just the two of them, but Nariko''s storm still didn''t seem roused. The brunette just looked around in a quick head count.


    "Are you sure that''s enough?"


    Enough?! They outnumbered the two of them six to one! Haru took a deep breath. No, no, calm down. That was absolutely a Riko thing to say. She needed to get her own head back in the game, too.


    It didn''t seem to perturb the demons, though. "It is just a dress rehearsal," Dear reminded her.


    "Oh, I''ve been looking forward to this," Darling confided to Jack as if the petrified boy were her date. "I was so busy last time that I didn''t get to see how she fought them! I turned around, and they were gone! Without so much as a jolt of static electricity! Isn''t that spectacular?"


    "Y-yeah," the boy struggled to answer, clearly completely void of any idea of what she was talking about. "Stunning."


    "Oh-ho-ho, I see what you did there, you clever boy." At least she was enjoying herself ...


    "Fine, enough standing around," Riko ordered with a firm nod to Haru. "Let''s go."


    Haru nodded back and began her incantation by channeling her magic into the shape of a luminescent card and hurling it into the air above her. "TRANSFORM!"


    The light rained down around her and wrapped around her very being. She closed her eyes as the familiar sensation of being held by it enveloped her every sense. It eddied and curled about, taking her with it like a dancing partner, and she trusted it with her every movement.


    "Shimmering light of compassion!" As the light flowed first around and then into her, it faded away from its dance, leaving her in a cute, idol-like pose. "Flare Witch!"


    What really surprised the audience of three was when Riko did the same, throwing a golden card above her with the same shout of, "TRANSFORM!"


    Unlike with the other witches, the gold flashed above her and then crashed down in an impenetrable veil of energy, concealing anything within except for the refrain.


    "Golden blade of determination!" And then said blade thrust through the veil, followed by several quick slices before the revealed girl spun it down to her side. "Sword Witch!"


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And then it was the girls'' turn to be surprised. After all, the last thing they expected to hear was an ear-piercing squeal.


    "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Darling, the source of the sudden sound, demanded. She practically hurled Jack into her partner''s arms, who caught him with an exaggerated huff as if from the force of impact.


    She, however, seemed to give it no mind as she dashed over to Riko. "What is this, what is this?!" she demanded as she picked up the girl''s arm and examined the outfit. "Nobody told me of a costume change! You can''t even transform, so what did you just do?!"


    The sudden attention made the brunette uncomfortable in an entirely different way from their bad humor. Her storm practically raged, Too close!


    "Uh, it''s a place holder ... No stat boost, but the boss said I still needed the identity concealment, so the girls put it together for me." She held up a small object that resembled a pen from inside the crop jacket.


    Darling snatched it from her hand in a moment to turn it over and examine it. "Oh, a transforming wand! How quaint! And what a wonderfully ingenious solution!" Just like that, she''d shoved it back into Riko''s hand and begun turning the girl this way and that. "And so sporty!"


    They''d gone with a color scheme resembling the weapons, and the gold-yellow jacket with its blue trim covered a cream shirt. The miniskirt that matched the jacket had been non-negotiable, not for lack of effort to negotiate it on Riko''s part, though it paired with cream undershorts that were actually connected to the shirt as a single leotard.


    Her feet were clad in slim boots that came up to below the knee and resembled armor, but like the bracers on her arms, were only decorative in that regard. Meanwhile, they''d kept the ponytail she''d improvised in her spar with Flame Witch, though it was properly and neatly done here, held in place with a barrette designed to resemble the gold and blue of evangelium and hordestat.


    "I take it that it meets your approval?" Nariko was tentatively asking the far too curious demon.


    Sarasa had said it was a relatively simple magical tool, but it had limits and was a far cry from a real transformation. The transforming wand could be used to change one''s outfit into virtually anything, but couldn''t create anything of significant value. This was why, even though her boots and bracers looked like they were reinforced, they were no more durable than any other part of the outfit.


    It did, however, include a magic field very similar to what was produced by their transformations to keep people from recognizing them without first seeing them transform. If one thought about it too hard, it was blatantly intended as a spy tool in design, quickly creating a desired disguise while protecting the user''s real identity even if the face was completely exposed.


    The Witches had no need of spies, though, and the tool was almost too perfect for what they did need. Still, a bit of Haru''s mind worried over that it was seemingly common enough for a demon to immediately recognize it. The demons, they had a need for spies.


    "Darling," Dear finally called with a note of frustration, "you''re delaying the show!"


    Darling gave a dramatic sigh and drooped her hand toward him, even as she moved back in his direction. "Oh, you must learn to be patient about these things, Dear! You of all people know the kind of impact poor costume design can have on an opening night!"


    Her string came out and, with a motion, wrapped around Jack to bind him, seemingly able to do so without cutting, as if it were part of the same motion of Dear shoving him back so his hands were free to perch on his hips.


    "You said you''d never bring that up again!"


    But Darling looked around innocently. "Bring what up? I brought nothing up, I just said you know it better than anyone else. Honestly, taking offense at a compliment, let that be a lesson to you girls, men can be such fragile things. If you ever find yourselves one, shank it in the belly and leave it in the gutter."


    What always bothered Haru the most about the pair was how authentic their reactions appeared to her senses even when they were plainly playing a bit. Their emotions seemed to flare in perfect pitch to their portrayals.


    Either they were so insane that they convinced themselves they actually felt that way or they were, without contest, truly the best actors she had ever laid direct eyes on. With a pair as shifty and slippery as they were, she could never decide which answer might have been worse.


    Riko''s response was elsewhere entirely. "So you two are fans of sitcoms, as well?"


    Sitcoms? Was that what this performance was supposed to be? She''d never watched them, herself. Of course, though the brunette was conversational, Haru could see the storm shifting as it counted seconds.


    The longer these two dawdled, the more time the other Witches had time to get suspicious. If they didn''t have to call for them, the others could strike in ambush and create an opening to get Jack out of there.


    Meanwhile, Darling chuckled at the question. "Oh, my sweet little doll ... If it stands on a stage, we live it."


    And as if that were some starting bell, the two girls ran out of borrowed time.


    Without any visible signal from its greater demon masters, Marione took the initiative, jumping high into the air above them without making a sound but the clattering of its own wooden pieces.


    It was startling how fast Nariko could react to things around her when Haru reminded herself that her friend''s "transformation" was only a costume change. She wasn''t nearly as fast as the blonde was as Flare Witch, but she saw it in the brunette''s eyes. If she hadn''t jumped clear as Nariko rushed to place herself underneath the dropping puppet, she would have been shouldered out of the way.


    I''d die for you ...


    The brunette''s words floated back to her in that moment. It was typical of the Nariko she knew to use hyperbole to make her feelings clear, as the girl often felt like she struggled to make the depths of her emotions heard and understood. It was done with a forcefulness that was almost spasmatic.


    This more mature version of her, however, was clearly more careful with her words. She wouldn''t say something like that unless she was deadly serious. Did she think her Nariko wouldn''t die for her? Not for a minute, and the reverse was also true. But her Nariko was almost too bashful to say something like that so bluntly without framing it as some sort of quip.


    She could practically hear the girl saying it, giving a cocky grin as she waggled a finger. Now, don''t you go telling anyone I proposed to you, ya got that?


    It didn''t matter to Nariko that, as Flare Witch, any blow from that monster would be far less dangerous to her. Even unarmed, her first instinct had been to place herself between the blonde and Dakunaito. But that was okay. She''d cover the brunette and make sure she could fight with everything she had without concern.


    Sword Witch swung her blade up hard against the falling puppet, a golden light erupting to repel the creature. It seemed to land off to the side of her in a jumbled heap from the blow, but returned to its feet in an inhuman manner, as if its parts climbed over each other to pull them each to their proper height.


    It attacked again as no human could, turning its torso a full one-hundred-eighty degrees even as it launched its opposite fist as a haymaker at the swordswoman, but she batted this, too, away with her follow-up swing.


    "Haru, the dretches!" she shouted, barely turning toward the blonde from her own fight.


    Shoot, she''d nearly forgotten about them! She whipped around and barely got a barrier up before some of them started shooting at them. Still, she looked back at Nariko in concern.


    "Go! I''ll keep Marione occupied!" Said puppet was trying to use its forearm like a flail, but the brunette ducked underneath the swing. "I''ll be fine long enough for you to clear them out!"


    Flare Witch hesitated for only a moment, but then nodded. If she hurried, it wouldn''t be long at all. Maybe she should have been more bothered by the idea that despite being the one able to transform, Riko still thought her combat abilities too low to be the one holding the line, but even she could take out dretches!


    ... So much for a dress rehearsal ...


    With that, she shoved all other thoughts from her mind and charged the middle of the semi-circle, crashing into the line of dretches like a brute force wrecking ball. One swung at her, but she ducked and punched it in the face, then turned around and kicked the one on the other side. Both went sprawling and vanished into flames with a high-pitched wail sound before they even could hit the ground again.


    Back on the sidelines, Darling seemed to be growing more and more distressed. "What?! No! No, no, no! This isn''t right at all! I wanted to see how Thunder Witch fought the dretches! Not that clumsy blonde airhead!" She turned toward Dear and pulled on his arm. "Make them do it right, Dear! They''re all backwards!"


    Dear sighed as he looked down at her, taking her chin in his hand despite them being right in front of Jack. "You''re incorrigible, Darling."


    "And you love that about me."


    He turned and threw his hand toward those fighting. "Dretches! Focus your attacks on the brown one! Don''t let her engage the proto-demon! Marione, Flare Witch is your opponent!"


    "Huh?!" Haru turned back toward the shout, a dretch''s throat in one hand and the other drawn back into a fist full of light energy a second from pummeling it in the face.


    The great big dummy was already in the process of turning to head for her, but Sword Witch was hot on its tail.


    "You''re not getting away from me that easily!" She wound back to take a swing at its cords binding its legs together, but before she could, several of the sword-wielding dretches disappeared from the circle and appeared in the air above her, already plummeting down and forcing her to jump back.


    What she swore under her breath was too quiet for Haru to catch, but the angry bolt of lightning from the storm made it very clear what it meant. "Change of plans, Haru! I''ll make this quick! Hold out as well as you can, alright?!"


    Though Haru gave her agreement, she couldn''t bring herself to quite focus on the lumbering doll. Nariko moved like greased lightning. She could hardly believe she wasn''t transformed as she watched her move about the dretches like they were standing still.


    She knew this Nariko had only faced the creatures once, and defeated them even less equipped than she was now. Still, to think she now acted as if she knew all there was to know of them ...


    In a moment, the ones who had jumped her were cut down, and their corpses hadn''t even burst into fire before, unlike Haru, she made a dash for the end of the line rather than the middle. Some shot at her, but they didn''t really stand a chance of actually hitting her, any coming remotely close getting deflected by evangelium and hordestat.


    Following Sword Witch''s dash brought Marione back into her field of vision and she gave a startled hiccup at the reminder of the doll practically in front of her. Gingerly, Haru raised a hand to wiggle her fingers in greeting. "H-Hello, Marione ..."


    The marionette raised its own hand to mimic the wave ... and then threw a haymaker with the other.


    * * *


    The brunette was quickly coming to the conclusion that she hated fighting dretches.


    It wasn''t like they were difficult, especially with her new weapons. This many may have given her trouble before just by sheer numbers, but she gave herself seventy to thirty odds of still coming out victorious, if not unharmed, just because they were such horrible fighters.


    With the weapons Dakunaito provided her, they didn''t stand a chance. If she weren''t in such a hurry, she''d even call fighting them boring, but that wasn''t the reason she hated it.


    A long, arcing line of the mooks stretched out ahead of her, and it took all of her self control not to just rush ahead and try slicing them as she ran by them. It would leave her open to being flanked if she failed to drop anything less than every single one of them.


    Still, her blade cut through two in a single swipe, and she felt the increasingly familiar protest of her arm overextending without it meeting sufficient resistance. Hitting these things without magic felt like punching a heavy sandbag, but they were actually horrifically weak, and any application of magic seemed to reduce them to halituous opposition.


    There was nothing to be gained from complaining about it, however. They had to be cleared out or they would continue to interfere with the fight against the proto-demon, who, left alone, would also interfere with fighting them. As much as she loathed leaving Haru to face the muppet, it had to be done.


    From what little time she had with Marione, she wouldn''t say it was particularly skilled, but it was capable of moving in unorthodox ways that might overwhelm a brutish charger like the blonde. She really had to find the time to bring up her fighting style - the term used very loosely - more formally, before she got herself killed.


    She was only two-thirds of her way down the line - well past where Flare Witch had made a mess of the otherwise neatly maintained semi-circle - when Haru screamed.


    The brunette wheeled around in an instant to see Marione had extended its strings to use its own limbs like a bola to entrap the blonde and was in the process of reeling her in toward its main body.


    "Haru!" she reflexively shouted, but when she started for her, the dretches again attempted to dogpile her. It wasn''t a great combat threat, but only so long as she committed to repelling them, halting her forward momentum. At the same time, she saw flashes of light as Dear summoned more of them in, the masked couple with smug body postures safely outside of the combat zone.


    "Get off of me!" she shouted as she kicked one in the stomach. Despite their invulnerable nature against such mundane attacks, they weighed no more than an actual person their size and the blow shoved it away, gaining her the breathing room to slice through the other two.


    Her second bracelet turned into a pistol of similar design to the sword, but as she went to train it on the puppet, the dretches threw aside their weapons and grabbed for her limbs, attempting to restrain her.


    Damn it.


    The thought flashed through her mind. She should have been the one fighting that thing. Or even better, Natsumi could have turned it into a pile of cinders, but the redhead wasn''t here. No use thinking about could have beens. As she wrestled with the dretches, her mind focused exclusively on Haru. She had to get to her. She had to pull the dummy off of her. She had to get it focused on her.


    Me! Pay attention to ME!


    * * *


    Honestly, Haru thought she''d been doing pretty well. Marione made big, swooping attacks that seemed pretty easy to dodge. Sure, she took a knock or two, but nothing serious. She was certain her light-augmented blows would win the day at this rate. Maybe she''d even lay this thing out before Nariko got back! Ha! Wouldn''t that show her?! Yeah, she knew how to fight!


    But when the marionette began to spin at the waist, she froze in indecision. Was it going to come spinning at her like a top? Or maybe a windmill punch?! She''d tried that once, but when she clocked her own jaw, she decided it wasn''t worth how cool pulling it off would have looked.


    When the limbs instead came flying clean off of the proto-demon, she was caught completely off-guard. No, they didn''t come completely off. The strings still connected them to the main body, and as they flew past her to either side, their momentum swung them around and lashed her lower body with the strings.


    With an embarrassingly easy yank, Marione pulled her feet right out from under her and began pulling its limbs back toward itself, her with them even as she scrabbled for a hold on the ground. She screamed as she went down, drawing Nariko''s attention from the dretches.


    No, no, no! She watched as they began to pile on top of her. She''d fight them off, but every time she moved for Haru again, they''d just do it again. No, she thought. Don''t let me be the reason Nariko dies!


    The closer she got to Marione, the more the proto-demon''s strings bound her. By the time she reached the main body, they were covering most of her form, and as it lifted her up off of the ground and inside its own space, its arms covered her face, her last sight of Nariko struggling to break free of three dretches attempting to grapple her.


    But it did nothing to stop her view of the storm, which only raged ever more fiercely. And then she witnessed something she thought she would never see. The storm parted. The skies cleared. The sun broke through the thundering clouds that had never ceased before, and its light washed over her.


    "Shining Lance!"


    What was that? No, she knew what it was. It was her spell! It wasn''t her signature, but it was the strongest offensive spell she had. But she knew she didn''t cast it. She couldn''t. It had to be directed from her hands, and hers were bound in demonic strings.


    Yet as its warmth washed over her, those strings broke up and the wooden limbs tore away from her. She only realized she''d been hoisted off the ground when the absence of her captor''s bonds left her to drop the foot or so to solid ground, and she stumbled to a knee before she caught herself.


    Her eyes snapped to Sword Witch, whose hand was still upraised toward her - toward where Marione had been. The dretches that had been piling on top of her were gone. Did she ... but that was impossible ...


    It took her a moment to realize the entire battlefield was dead silent. There were no more dretches, and even Darling and Dear were standing in a bewildered daze, the latter''s hand still raised halfway into a snap that had been forgotten.


    The quiet made the rumbling of Marione pulling itself together seem all the louder, but before she could even turn to look, Nariko was running right at her, sword in two hands and drawn back.


    "Pardon me!"


    "H-Hey!"


    As the brunette reached her, the apology had occurred just before she used her best friend for a spring board, kicking off of the back of her blonde head and earning the reflexive objection. In her increased airtime, she drew the sword back above her head, her whole body arcing with the motion as if she were turning her entire frame into a human bow.


    "Melon Splitter!"


    Okay, that was not a spell. In fact, she was fairly sure it was a jab at Flame Witch.


    Sword Witch snapped her body forward as if someone had released the bowstring, and added as much force as she possibly could to her already existing downward momentum that was going into the downward cleave.


    The blade flashed brilliant gold as it impacted the still blinded and disoriented proto-demon. Wood erupted in splinters and string split in twain as if the entire construct had been struck by a great thunderbolt. Fragments and chunks of Marione went in every direction as Nariko finally landed right in front of where it had previously been standing.


    Yeah, the storm was definitely back as if that sun had never been there. Haru halfway doubted she''d even seen it except for the fact the untransformed witch had used her own spell.


    Nariko gave a deep exhale before standing back up straight, and turned toward her with that stupid tug of her thumb across her mouth she always did when she was feeling cocky, though it didn''t fully conceal how her clouds had a bit of a sluggish chug to them. She must have been getting tired.


    "You''re up, Flare Witch!"


    Tired or not, Haru gave her a flat look as she stood, too ... and chopped her on the forehead.


    "Ow!" The brunette clamped her hands protectively over the impact site as she staggered from the blow. "Transformed! Transformed!"


    But her hands were on her hips. "I am not a spring board, Riko!"


    "I''m sorry! I said excuse me!"


    "Ask for a boost next time!" She sighed and relaxed her shoulders as she turned her attention to the proto-demon''s dark energy and concentrated on purifying it by saturating it with her light.


    Meanwhile, Nariko turned her attention to the performing duo. "Seems like the little bird managed to fly after all, and with the help of her friend, too," she told them.


    Behind her, though Flare Witch didn''t stop her magic work, she also didn''t quite fully suppress a scoff at the idea of said help.


    But the duo were uncharacteristically subdued, staring at the brunette like she were the demon.


    "... It would seem she did," Darling finally answered after what felt like a long moment. Then after another one, she gave an almost frustrated jerk of her arm that sent poor Jack spinning from her string like a top to crash to the ground in front of the girls.


    Still they stared at her, and it was Dear who spoke next. "What are you, little bird?"


    Perhaps Nariko didn''t understand just how rules-breaking what she had done was. She simply turned sideways a bit as she propped her sword against her shoulder with a grin.


    "I told you when I transformed, didn''t I? I''m Sword Witch."

 Chapter Thirteen

    (13)


    As the brunette made her way down the school hallway, her mind was reviewing the events from a couple days past. She''d used magic for the first time. Actual magic, not just magical energy channeled through a conduit. To say she''d been enthused with the experience would have been an understatement.


    ... Sarasa and the other girls had not been enthused. Sarasa and the other girls lost their minds.


    Apparently, Witches couldn''t create more than minor effects related to their element unless they were transformed. Sure, the magic was still there, but since their spells weren''t something they studied, the transformation needed to act as a bridge.


    Casting could be trained, yes, but humans apparently were multiversally notorious for poor mana control, and it was considered laborious to wrangle it enough to cast even simple spells. Witches, despite their ludicrous mana pools that rivaled the mightiest of greater demons, were apparently no exception to this.


    Still, at least that could be done, however unlikely it would be or how much effort it would require. It would only make her a prodigy, not a freak. No, what had them flipping their lids even more than that was what she cast.


    Because Witches didn''t study their magic, it was virtually impossible for one witch to cast from another''s spell list. Like the transformation, itself, too much of it was defined by the differences between the Witches as unique individuals.


    When Haru had explained what she''d seen through her empathy at the time, she couldn''t confirm it was actually the blonde''s own mental form as her sight didn''t apply to herself, but it had clearly been close enough to allow the spell Sword Witch had seen twice previously.


    Theories had quickly fired back and forth across the table, though the brunette, herself, kept quiet and let them go. It was still a science she knew too little of to contribute.


    At the end, Sarasa had ordered her escort be resumed, albeit not for her protection this time. The theory that had survived the table free-for-all with the fewest war scars was that casting Flare Witch''s spell had something to do with how familiar she and Haru were.


    If it were possible for her to learn more spells from the other girls by getting to know them better, Miss Sada had insisted, then it would expand her utility in battle. Even with the demon weapons in her possession and the martial prowess the echo of the other life had brought her, Sword Witch was still a Witch almost in name only, and lagged fatally behind the rest of the team.


    This was the first day since that soda shop meeting that she was going to be walking home with Reina, and while the girl had been nothing but considerate, she still felt uneasy being alone with her. She just knew that Reina was going to ask about her reaction back then, and she wasn''t sure what she''d tell her.


    She went to turn into a T intersection, and her deep inner reflection was interrupted by a massive stack of papers that attempted to tackle her to the ground.


    She was still picking herself up off of the ground in the wake of the crash, papers floating toward the ground, as a timid voice began fretting over her.


    "Oh no, oh no, I didn''t see you there, I''m so sorry!" It was a tiny-framed girl with black hair and big glasses that took up much of her face.


    The girl seemed so terrified at the prospect she''d hurt someone that she reminded the brunette of Ran. She put on her best crooked smile and rubbed the back of her own neck. "Don''t worry about it," she assured her, "I''m tougher than I look. I can take a high speed collision or two."


    That struck the girl flushed and speechless, and the brunette took that opportunity to start gathering up the papers for her back into a stack.


    "Oh, oh, no, don''t worry, I can get that!"


    "It''s no trouble," she reassured the timid girl as she kept at it. "I don''t mind helping. So if you don''t mind me asking, where''s the fire?"


    "There''s a fire?!" The momentary panic broke into another awkward fidget as she realized it was a figure of speech. "O-oh, um ... Prez needed these ..."


    "Prez? You mean the student council president?"


    The girl nodded, preoccupying herself with gathering the papers into the right order so she didn''t have to maintain eye contact for longer than necessary.


    "That''s Tamashini, right?"


    "Yeah," the bespectacled girl nodded. "But I''m also late for my club, and if I miss too many days, they''ll kick me out, so ..."


    "So you were in a hurry," she concluded. "Well, was there anything else you had to do after you delivered these papers?"


    "N-no, this was the last thing ..."


    With the stack reassembled, the brunette nodded and picked it up as the two stood. "Then I''ll tell you what, I''m actually on my way to see her now. I can take these to her and you can get on your way to your club."


    "What?! No, I can''t trouble you with that!"


    The brunette just smiled brightly at that. "You''re not troubling me at all! I told you I''m already going to see her, anyway, and this way you can get to your club!"


    "Well, that''s true," the girl admitted hesitantly. "Okay ... if you''re sure, um ..." She studied the brunette''s face, clearly trying to come up with a name.


    "Nariko Kelly," she replied, offering her hand. "But please, call me Riko."


    The girl''s handshake was almost feather light. "O-okay. I''m Hisoka. Cho. Hisoka Cho. Thank you for ... for your assistance ..."


    "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Hisoka. And really, any time I can help, I''m happy to do so."


    * * *


    Hisoka had scampered away from the brunette after that, hurrying down another hall to lose herself in the vacancy of the nearly empty school, but her thoughts were still on her.


    That was Nariko Kelly?! She''d heard Reina - only here in her own head, with no one around, did she dare refer to the high class student president by her first name - talk about that girl before. From what she''d heard, she expected her to be boisterous, aggressive, arrogant ... loud.


    And yet she''d been incredibly nice. Friendly. No hesitation about greeting a complete stranger who just ran her over like a complete blind idiot. She had a similar feeling of strength Hisoka got from watching Reina, whom she idolized above all others. Was everyone she surrounded herself with so strong?


    Everyone, except for you.


    She hadn''t even been upset that Hisoka had rammed right into her. People had gotten mad at her for far less, but Nariko - Riko - had acted like nothing bad had happened at all.


    It''s because she''s strong. It wasn''t kindness. It was pity. The ultimate privilege of the strong. The weak cower when they are wronged. The strong look down on the weak that wrong them and call it kindness.


    If she were strong, she''d never look down on others. She knew too well what it was like being weak.


    That''s right, because you''re better. You would be better. Never look down on them. Never pity them. Let them know exactly where they stand next to you. Mercy is just another word for pity, and honesty is its vaccine.


    If she were strong, she''d be able to show her goddess, Reina Tamashini, just how strong she was, and punish that bully for daring to speak her name.


    Unnoticed in the empty corridor, darkening in the coming dusk, the shadows seemed to cling to her form for a little longer than it took her to leave them as a red light like burning coals glimmered faintly in her eyes.


    * * *


    "Don''t worry about the vase," Reina said without looking up from her paperwork when she heard the door open. "It''s fine."


    "Sorry, I''ve seen that movie, and I''m not falling for it."


    It was a heartbeat or two before the student president realized she hadn''t heard the shattering of the ceramic being knocked from the table and sent crashing to the tile floor. And the voice wasn''t the squeaky, hysterically apologetic one that she was supposed to be hearing.


    She stopped writing as if waiting for reality to correct itself for yet another heartbeat before she looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise.


    "Kelly? Where is Hisoka?"


    The papers were there, and the size of the girl holding them wasn''t much bigger than the one that was supposed to be there, but the grinning brunette was not the mousy assistant she should have been, and sure enough, that potted plant stood untouched less than half an arm''s length to her side.


    "Oh, uh, I bumped into her in the hallway." If it was Hisoka they were talking about, Reina suspected that wasn''t just a figure of speech. "She was running late for another club, so since I was heading this way, anyway, I offered to bring these papers for her."


    The upperclassman watched as Nariko brought the aforementioned papers and set them on an open corner of the desk. Right, she was to be escorting her home today. But then, why had her precognition so clearly been of Hisoka?


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Uh, you alright, there, boss?"


    Nariko''s words made her realize her attention had been drifting as they snapped her back to the present. "... Yes. Yes, I''m fine."


    "Really?" the brunette asked. "Because you look like your entire faith in the world just came crashing down because a pot''s still intact." She motioned back toward it. "If it bothers you that much, I can go back and Master Sword it for you."


    "That ... won''t be necessary, Kelly, but thank you for offering."


    What did her premonition mean? If Hisoka was the one that was supposed to be there, did it mean Nariko wasn''t? Yet those were specifically the plans that they had made, and this was specifically the time her teammate should have arrived, more or less. If Nariko wasn''t supposed to be here in the council office, where was she supposed to be and why wasn''t she there?


    "And there she goes again."


    For the second time, Reina''s mind snapped back to the present and onto Nariko''s face, filled with growing concern for her.


    Nariko pulled a chair up to sit across the desk from her, propping her elbows onto the table as her hands held her chin. "You sure you''re alright, Princess? I can go ahead and head home on my own today if it''s not a good time."


    Reina took a sharp intake of breath as she sat up straighter and shuffled some of the documents before her. "No, that''s alright. I''m almost done here, and I had plans for our evening if you were interested." She wasn''t accustomed to getting false premonitions, but for now, it didn''t matter. She had to focus on the task at hand.


    The brunette across from her sat up straighter, too. "Sure, what did you have in mind?"


    "Before your spar with Flame Witch," the raven-haired girl replied, "you''ll recall we discussed that I practiced fencing. In fact, I''m a member of the school''s fencing club. They happen to be in practice right now, and I thought you might like to see it."


    "Oh!" Nariko''s eyebrows went up in surprise. "Absolutely, that sounds like fun! I actually haven''t seen much of the school''s clubs since it started."


    The president chuckled and closed her eyes with a slight smile. "Given everything that has happened, I had suspected that might have been the case.


    "As a disclaimer, I''m not trying to recruit you, but even as things are, you should strongly consider joining a club. Not only is it important for your academic future, but its opportunities for social networking also cannot be overlooked."


    The amnesiac brunette slumped a bit with a sigh. "I''ve thought about it, but I''m not confident in my choices. I don''t really know what kind of club Nariko would choose, and if I chose wrong, I could draw a lot of unwanted attention."


    "You should speak with Chiaki, then," Reina advised. "She knows you better than anyone else on the team, and can help you make a choice that won''t strike anyone as unusual. Perhaps by pursuing such hobbies as our Nariko would pursue, but which might not be your own first choice, Thunder Witch may be someone you can grow to better understand, as well."


    She was treated to a rare sight of Kelly dropping her guard as her slump became a full slouch into the chair and she scrubbed at the side of her head. "Man, pretending to be somebody else is such a pain ..."


    This made the upperclassman chuckle, however, as she couldn''t help but think how much this supposedly true behavior was still so extremely like the actual Nariko.


    "I''m sure it''s exhausting, but please keep doing your best. Try not to worry about it being perfect. You seem to naturally follow her patterns, anyway, enough to even fool us when you didn''t even know to try. So long as you don''t make a big to-do about martial arts she never studied, ramble about things she''s never experienced or act like a clueless tourist in her own hometown, you should be fine."


    "Yeah," Riko grumbled, "pretty sure I blew all of those in the first week."


    "And yet your cover remains intact," Reina concluded. "My point is proven. You don''t need to be a perfect clone of Nariko to pass as her. You can make mistakes, slip up, even differ in some interests. Just relax and do your best."


    After that, the two settled into an amiable silence as Reina finished off the paperwork. Especially right after having seen such a traditional Nariko behavior, she had been worried Kelly was going to be disruptive if she had to wait very long, growing impatient and petulant. Fortunately and quite to the contrary, the brunette was quite peaceful about it, and the raven-haired girl only had to tune out the autonomic tapping of her crossed foot.


    When curiosity got the better of her and the president asked about it, it turned out more obnoxious behavior hadn''t always been absent from this version, either.


    "Through Herculean effort and to the great fortune of my physical health at the hands of everyone around me," she had explained with a grin, "I eventually learned how to practice being bored."


    With that, in short order, the last of the work was done and the two girls were on their way. Reina looked down at the brunette as they walked through the deserted hallways. She knew they were a year apart, and Nariko had only just started her first year of high school. Further, she knew she, herself, was on the tall side.


    Still, she couldn''t help but see the middle schooler that had joined the team seemingly not even all that long ago. That she''d let such chaos as this befall someone under her care was a stab to her heart.


    The brunette seemed to notice her staring and looked toward her, driving Reina to look straight ahead. There was a moment of silence, then ...


    "I''m sorry about what has happened to you, Kelly. It''s my job as the senior team member to protect everyone, and you''re suffering because I couldn''t do that."


    "That was what you were worrying about?!"


    Her surprise surprised her, and Reina looked back at Nariko''s disbelievingly raised eyebrow. "Well ... yes," she replied. "I take my responsibilities very seriously, and their failure rests heavily on me."


    But her underclassman just shook her head dismissively. "No, no, I get that. You''re absolutely the super straight laced valedictorian type. It''s in no way whatsoever your fault, so of course you''d dwell on it." Though it was Reina''s turn to arch an eyebrow, the brunette ignored it. "It''s just not what I''d been worrying you''d bring up the first time nobody else was around."


    The president looked forward again and was silent for a moment, her face frowned in focus. "You''re talking about the soda shop, where you said you didn''t recognize anyone just before I came in."


    Nariko didn''t answer, but she didn''t need the confirmation.


    "Yes, I''ve thought of that, too. I don''t believe I''ve ever been looked at that way. You didn''t just recognize me. You were terrified of me. Yet I can think of no one I have ever had dealings with that I left in any state to justify such a reaction."


    She actually cupped her chin as she continued her train of thought. "That you recognized me means that I have met your alter ego before, and our glamour effect means it couldn''t have been from any interaction you may have had with Sacred Witch. Your interaction must have been with Reina Tamashini, and it left you terrified of me."


    Her eyes closed as she concluded her line of thought. "Fortunately, it seems to have been an effect that has passed from you."


    "It hasn''t," Nariko corrected, and again she kept looking forward despite the surprised expression on Reina''s face. "I''m sorry, but I''m still deeply freaked out by you being here. I''m just shoving it onto a back burner because I understand it''s not your doing. I promise, I won''t ever hold it against you personally."


    Reina sighed and looked toward the opposite wall. "That is comforting, Kelly, but, I confess, a bit outdone by the revelation that my very presence disturbs you."


    It was the brunette''s turn to be silent for a bit, and when she spoke again, her tone had gone solemn and grim. "I did see you before ending up here, as Nariko. All of my memories are fried like a bad image cut, so I can''t say how or where. I can say with certainty it was toward the end. I can also say that you weren''t you, not as you are now."


    "... I was younger?"


    "The opposite. Reina, I saw a young woman. Not a high-schooler. An adult."


    "That''s impossible," she stated the obvious. "That would make you from the future."


    But again, Kelly shook her head. "I''m not convinced of that, either. The date, when I look at a calendar, it strikes me as right. Certainly not five, eight, ten years off."


    "Are you certain?" she tried again. "If you were Kelly from the future, that would explain far more about your similarities."


    "I''m very certain I wasn''t Kelly at all. We barely look related."


    "You are saying that you do, in fact, bare some resemblance to her?"


    Nariko thought for a moment, reflecting on that first morning. "The comparison I made when I saw her face in the mirror was of a younger half-sister, or a somewhat near cousin. I could see similarities because I knew the face I was comparing it to, but I doubt you would have guessed any relation to look at us without standing us side by side."


    "How interesting ..." Rather than put off by the comparison, Reina seemed intrigued, and tapped her chin as she thought for a moment. "What are the odds, that out of eight billion people on the planet, the one you are practically an identical mental match for also has physical similarities to you?"


    "I can''t imagine it''s many degrees higher than finding an identical mental match in the first place," Nariko countered her upperclassman easily. "That''s already in the range of impossibility."


    "True," the raven-haired girl conceded. "It still doesn''t do anything to answer how you encountered an older me, though."


    "Parallel universes?" the brunette offered with a shrug. "We''re already dealing with magic, demons, higher dimensions, cosmic arcana and miniskirts. What''s one more stupid thing to the mix?"


    The president lowered her head and chuckled. "While I concede your point, we at least know that all of those things exist, and I''d rather not jump to assuming things we don''t even know are possible as answers if there is some solution that doesn''t require such a leap."


    Kelly, meanwhile, scoffed. "Says you. Before I ended up wrapped up in all of it, I''m pretty sure I figured most of those as pure fiction."


    "And now you know better," Reina pointed out. "It was only natural that when you didn''t know about them, you wouldn''t readily consider them as solutions. If I happen to discover proof of parallel universes before bed tonight, I promise I will contact you first thing tomorrow with my apology."


    "Deal."


    "In the meantime, I will keep steering the conversation back to what happened between your alter ego and mine, however."


    Nariko sighed and hung her head. "Of course you will. You want to know what happened to freak me out about you."


    "Very much so."


    The brunette went silent for a longer time, looking toward the window and at the reflection of the girl''s face against it.


    "... Well, as always, I can''t say," she finally answered. "At least not in any sort of detail. It''s all just impressions, like those quizzes where all you have is a black silhouette and you have to guess what you''re looking at. If I had to nail something down, then I have a feeling that she was somehow directly involved in what happened to me. In why I''m here."


    Nariko''s gaze had shifted forward again, but she suddenly seemed to lock up, stopping in her tracks, her eyes not focusing on anything. Reina saw a spot of red growing under one nostril.


    "Kelly?" she asked, stopping, as well. When that got no response, she moved in front of her and put a hand on the shorter girl''s shoulder. "Kelly? Nariko, can you hear me?"


    * * *


    She had been talking about her last fragments of memories with Reina when something clanked in her head. It didn''t click, as if into place, but ground like stuck gears. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw a white cat''s swinging tail. Sarasa''s? Maybe, it was impossible to tell, and the next instant, her head was nothing but static.


    Glass. No. Stone? Transparent stone? Black hair floating as if in liquid. Red eyes. She''d come here. Why? Where? Darkness. Blue torches. Voices. Great, booming voices. Guilt. No, condemnation. An alarm.


    "Kelly! Kelly, answer me! Answer me, Kelly!"


    The static blurred thicker and faded to nothingness, which in turn came back to the lights of the hallway and Reina''s face inches from hers.


    * * *


    Tamashini recognized the instant Kelly''s eyes were taking in her surroundings again and felt the unnatural stiffness in the younger girl''s body collapse until only her own hands were holding her up. "Thank heavens. Are you alright, Kelly? You really scared me, there."


    The girl''s mouth worked for a moment without producing anything, then it was a heavy, laborious sound as she spoke. "What happened?"


    "That''s what I would like to know. We were walking along, then you just locked up. If I didn''t know any better, I''d think you had some sort of seizure."


    Nariko gave a groan and rubbed her face with the heel of one hand. "I was in ... I mean, I think I got lost in the fragments."


    Reina''s eyes widened as she knelt down further to follow what the girl was saying. "You remembered something?"


    But the brunette shook her head. "I wouldn''t call it remembering. It was just nonsense. Bits and pieces that didn''t go together in any way I could tell. They''re already fading."


    Reina watched as the girl touched the red under her nose at the sensation of wetness and examined the end of her finger. "... Perhaps we should save such mysteries for another time. Whatever happened, I would hate to make it worse. I''ll walk you home and you get some rest."


    Nariko looked up at that. "What about your club?"


    "I''ll tell them you weren''t feeling well, and I walked you home," the president reasoned. "They''ll understand."


    "No!" The girl went to stand up quickly, but stopped. "I mean, I wanted to see the club. I''m fine, really, and the distraction will be good for me."


    Tamashini watched her for another long moment, evaluating her condition, then relented. "Alright, but if there is even a hint of another episode like that, it''s straight home."


    The brunette nodded in agreement and got back to her feet as the two headed down the hallway again.

 Chapter Fourteen

    (14)


    "Have you heard anything from Hisoka yet?"


    Reina turned toward the brunette that had just come into the training room when the question was asked of her. It''d been a week and a half since Kelly met the president''s mousy assistant in the hallway, but the latter had inexplicably stopped coming to school several days ago.


    The president could only shake her head. "No, nothing. The police even made another circuit through questioning her friends again yesterday."


    "So they don''t have anything, either," Nariko surmised. "You don''t think she''s hurt somewhere, or worse?"


    But that only earned a slightly more mirthful shake of the raven''s head. "No, not for a moment. If Cho had a superpower, it would be unfortunate luck. For all of the trouble she gets into, I''ve never seen her seriously harmed."


    "Well, that''s a relief, at least." The brunette lowered her voice and led Tamashini a bit off to the side. "Speaking of superpowers, has yours pinged anything?"


    "... Yes," the president confirmed after a moment of hesitation. "It''s a large portion of why I''m so certain she''s alive. When she does show back up, I am the one she will come to see." Reina cycled through a deep breath. "And then we need to be ready for trouble."


    Nariko arched an eyebrow at her. "Are we talking that kind of trouble? If so, maybe you''re the one that should be getting an escort, and from the whole team."


    "Out of the question. When she comes, it will be because I''m alone. Having the whole team will just cause problems." Her gaze focused more directly on her underclassman. "So I''m going to need you ready when she comes."


    "Me? You just said she''ll only come when you''re alone."


    Reina looked back toward the other members of the fencing team, who were going through warm-up exercises while chatting innocently away. "... I must admit to conducting an experiment with you, Kelly. I believe you may be able to be there even if I''m supposed to be alone."


    "Why?"


    "Because I''ve already witnessed you meddling with one precognitive event."


    Riko spent a moment considering the president''s words. "The vase. That''s why you were so shaken."


    "I don''t like to think of it as being shaken," Reina objected, "but it was the first time in all of my life that my foresight had been wrong, and it was solely because you had been there."


    She turned back toward the brunette. "You. Specifically. If it had been Nariko Kelly, then she would have been somewhere else. She wouldn''t have been in that hallway, she wouldn''t have run into Cho, she wouldn''t have taken the papers to the office for her."


    The girl that was the spitting image of said teammate rubbed her chin in thought. "I was only there because something about being an echo lets me copy spells. You''re saying that my existence is disrupting events."


    "Possibly," Reina confirmed with a nod. "Or at least, that''s what I''m hoping will be the case." Her gaze went distant with concern for Hisoka. "And maybe, with two of us, we can stop her from running away."


    "Running away?" Kelly looked to her with confusion. "Why?"


    But again, she could only shake her head. "My glimpse didn''t go that far. All I know is that if she runs, she won''t ever come back. We have to keep her from running."


    The brunette went silent as she considered the grim implications, but finally gave a nod of acceptance. "So what do we do in the meantime? Just go on acting like we''re not waiting for the other shoe to drop?"


    "Exactly," the president replied as she turned back toward the club activities. "What do you think? Have you seen enough matches? Ready to give fencing a go, yourself?"


    Nariko considered the question for a moment, then nodded. "I believe I''ve got a grasp on the basics, sure."


    "Excellent," Tamashini nodded back. She waved down the boy that had been doing most of the managing. As the two girls came up to him, she explained, "We''ll do a round robin today, ordered by ranking. Put our guest at the bottom."


    At that, the boy looked surprised. "Kelly''s participating? Miss President, that''s not safe. She hasn''t gone through a single lesson. She hasn''t even picked up a foil."


    But Reina''s pleased expression remained completely unaltered. "Don''t worry, she is a quick study. In fact, I suspect she won''t remain in the bottom ranks for long."


    He tried to argue more, but Reina''s response remained exactly the same, and eventually he surrendered and turned to announce the robin to the rest of the club.


    Nariko stepped up next to her, a little hesitantly. "Who are you that you can just tell him what to do like that?"


    Reina''s pleased expression changed to one of slight embarrassment. "Ah, in addition to my duties as council president, I am also the club''s captain. Tora is my vice-captain, but like many, he calls me president out of habit."


    She was surprised she felt a slight twinge of disappointment when she saw that only made the brunette blink. Had she really been looking forward to the girl being impressed by something like that?


    "Still, one would think there would be rules against putting me in without any experience."


    "Not really. After all, we can only say that you have no activity recorded in the club. We can''t speak to any experience you may have outside of school. Of course, Tora knows that''s not the case, not in fencing, anyway, but he would need a vote of the club to overrule me."


    "And they''d vote against him?"


    Reina nodded without hesitation. "I''m not proud of them for it, Kelly, but I fear I''m throwing you a bit into the lion''s den. A round robin is an opportunity to move up in the club rankings, and even someone at the bottom must believe they could beat someone with no experience at all."


    "One spot above the bottom is at least no longer the bottom."


    "Precisely."


    Nariko frowned, but Reina was pleased to see she wasn''t intimidated. "I have to admit, when you asked me if I wanted to give it a go, I didn''t expect you intended to throw me right into a tournament."


    "Of course not. You would have reconsidered your answer, and you would have chosen incorrectly."


    "You seem like you''re putting a lot of faith in Analysis when we''re still not even sure I have it."


    But Reina chuckled at that. "Not at all. I''m putting faith in a swordswoman that can fight demons without a transformation. For you, the drawn out steps of training and testing would be a waste of time."


    The brunette''s eyebrow raised in suspicion. "You wanted me handicapped."


    "I want them to have half a chance." She tucked a lock of raven hair behind her ear. "They''ve been getting lazy lately, settling into their ways. If you can make it over halfway through, I can use that to light a fire under them."


    Tamashini sighed as she considered the alternative. "But if we taught you how to fence first, not only would you just roll over them, but they would already know you have a natural talent for combat and would use that to excuse their losses."


    "I see."


    "Then let us get you suited up."


    * * *


    The brunette stood across from a boy a year ahead of her, though she only knew that because she had seen him before they each got into the fencing gear.


    The cotton and mesh did a brilliant job of obscuring nearly all features of the duelists, and she couldn''t help but think that, injuries go hang, she''d rather be without the stuffy protection. Everyone wore the gambeson-like doublet and pants, but only the current competitors wore the wire-like helmet, padded gloves and sensor-loaded vest.


    The foils, themselves, were powered by rechargeable battery packs that plugged in underneath the guard. When they connected with the vest, the sensors would detect the minute electrical discharge and alert the judge by engaging the corresponding light on a portable box with a loud buzz.


    The teacher that oversaw the class was the judge, and the brunette found she was a little surprised that it wasn''t Sarasa. Miss Sada was so omnipresent in the girls'' school lives that one could almost be fooled into thinking any other teachers were background characters, rather than anyone that actually did anything.


    But no, he was apparently a literature teacher and a collegiate competitor in fencing, and had been delighted to share his passion for the sport with his students. He had a bit of a pretty-boy face she personally would have called French, but she didn''t actually know his nationality.


    Tamashini was sitting off to the side apart from the other club members surrounding the dueling area to watch, accompanied only by Tora who stood at her side like her personal knight. Yeah, she wasn''t doing much to dissuade the royalty everyone treated her with.


    She wondered if Reina even realized the impression she was giving; the raven-haired girl had always seemed embarrassed when her reputation was brought up and acted as if the deference was forced upon her.


    She turned her attention back to her opponent, the worst fencer in the club.


    No, she immediately scolded herself for jumping to that assumption. She only knew he was the lowest-ranked member, and certainly he had a firm grip on his foil, though if she had to nitpick, his stance was a little too wide and there was a bit too much wobble in how he held his blade.


    She quickly double checked her own stance and grip to make sure she wasn''t making a hypocrite of herself, even if only in her own head.


    The teacher made the call to get ready, then, with a dramatic downward sweep of his arms, shouted for the contestants to begin.


    ... but his voice''s echo had hardly faded from the gymnasium before mass mutterings filled the onlookers in the wake of an electronic buzz of an alarm.


    The poor boy across from her had taken a heartbeat and a half to realize he''d already been struck by a lightning quick lunge to his heart.


    Tamashini was apparently the only one in the club not to respond in shock. Even her little knight''s jaw had fallen slack.


    The students didn''t have the many hours it would take for every match to take as long as a full official match, so they used a best of three rule for their club''s round robins instead of first to fifteen.


    Ironically, this made it much more like a traditional kendo match, but she doubted that was an intentional similarity. She even got a lecture on etiquette the club expected she''d received from Tamashini that had definitely been more from kendo than European fencing, but this was likely more to train good sportsmanship into the students than to push the sport in an Eastern direction.


    Still, despite having seen it once already, it did the boy no good. The judge congratulated her, had them square off again and started the next round. The boy had clearly intended to duck down and to his right in anticipation of her lunge, but she had already tagged him in the same spot before his body began the motion.


    The boy ripped his helmet off and threw it to the ground, storming off before the teacher could even finish making it official.


    She quickly came to understand Tamashini''s complaint about them being lazy as she made her way through half the club in similarly short order. Oh, sure, occasionally one would parry or duck and last another second or two, but none ever tagged her back.


    The biggest problem seemed to be that none of them took it seriously. It was just a game to them. Of course, she had to remind herself that it was, in fact, a game. None of them were fighting for their lives, none of them were looking to become the next Zorro, heck, none of them were even expecting to take this skillset to a college degree.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She was against a bunch of hobbyists and nothing more.


    That gradually started to change as she moved into the second half of the robin''s roster and encountered a steadily growing resistance. Tamashini''s choice of language about how far she expected her to get had clearly been deliberate.


    Still, with great effort and honed reactions, she still made it all the way to Tora without receiving a single tag.


    The boy left Tamashini''s side to speak with her while the match before theirs took place. "Kelly," he opened to get her attention as he approached, mesh helmet already under one arm. "Before I start, I figured I owed you an apology."


    The brunette turned to meet him when her name was called, but her eyebrow went up at his words. "For what?"


    "Honestly, I didn''t think you had any business on the piste," he confessed. "The president said you hadn''t ever done fencing before. I''ve never known her to lie, but ... perhaps she''s been misinformed?"


    Ah, that''s what this was. The suggestive way he asked the question was a natural, You can tell me the truth, sort of tone. He didn''t dare question his queen, so he was questioning the visiting jester.


    "It''s true," she said instead. "I''ve never done fencing in my life." After a moment''s hesitation, she offered, "Some kendo, but not fencing."


    That was a complete lie, of course. Nariko Kelly had never done kendo, either, but she was certain that she, herself, had studied it a great deal. Some, as a consequence, was true for neither of them. As an average between the two of them, however, she figured she could excuse it to soothe the vice-captain''s ego.


    It seemed to work. "Ah," he replied, as if that were some illuminating secret. "But then, why are you here instead of in the kendo club?"


    "Trying something new." Back to honesty. A convincing alibi always rested on mixing the two in a way that the truth was the scaffolding to support the falsehoods. "It was Tamashini''s idea, and I''ve never actually done kendo ... publicly." Another truth and a half-truth. She''d have to be careful of anything she hung on that second part.


    "I understand," he nodded sympathetically. "A lot of people can get ... weird about assuming why you might take up a particular pastime."


    She scoffed. "You don''t need to mince words with me, Tora. You mean they might think I''m a nerd."


    That got a laugh from him in return, if a short one. "Forgive me, I''ve been told I''m too soft-spoken."


    "Eh, don''t worry, a candy-coated tongue is a great asset for a knight."


    "A knight, Kelly?"


    She shrugged it off, though. "Don''t worry about it, just the impression you give. Especially the way you stand next to Tamashini."


    The boy blushed crimson instantly. "It''s just station! I''m the vice-captain, I''m supposed to be standing with the captain!"


    "Says the knight with a crush on the princess," she teased, but slipped her helmet on as the match before them wrapped up. Once it was secured, she slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, we''re up."


    * * *


    She wished she could say she''d teased the vice captain as a clever ruse to get him frustrated and prone to making a mistake, but even if that had been her attention, it very much failed. The boy was ten times the fencer of the member a rank below him, a dark-skinned girl with dreadlocks who had nearly driven her from the strip, and Tora came at her like he had something to prove.


    But then, with Tamashini right there watching him fight the stranger that had beaten her way through the entire club roster, maybe he did.


    Even though she lunged first, he brute forced his way through, shoving her foil away as he pushed in toward her. She had to break back to keep from being bowled over, and he pushed the opening that gave him with utmost aggression. He fought so differently from any other member of the club she''d faced so far that she kept misinterpreting where he was going to go.


    She began to lose her footing, her upper body going back faster than her legs. She saw an opening. She thrust even as she tried to stop her fall.


    The buzzer sounded, but she could feel his foil against her chest. They looked over, and both lights were on. Virtually simultaneous strikes.


    "Point, Tora!" the teacher declared. "Right of way!"


    Obviously. Right of way determined who could score by who was the aggressor, and that certainly hadn''t been her.


    The club members broke out in cheers at the smell of first blood, but the vice captain motioned with his hand for them to settle down as the two of them returned to their starting positions, but it was the teacher who raised his voice to be heard above them.


    "Don''t get so excited. It''s still best of three."


    Tora had a way of flicking his foil so that it whipped with more force than he was putting in. Learning from that display, the brunette pushed to exploit it for her own use the instant the next round started. Her first few blows were rough, but their foils were soon slapping against each other as the two fencers stood their ground, looking for an opening in the other''s defense as they exchanged attack and defense.


    She saw hers first. He took a hair too long to swing as he shifted his weight to his front leg. She knew before he truly started the motion he was going to pull back and lunge. The path of the foil nearly plotted itself to her very eyes, and she stepped to his inside as he committed to it. His foil lunged past her, while hers cleanly slapped against his side.


    Mutterings returned to the audience of club members to replace their initial jubilation, but Tora returned to his starting position without comment. He didn''t need to say anything. The determined rigidity of his posture spoke volumes.


    The third time, he came at her completely differently, attempting to control her position with thrusts, while every time she attacked, he spun his foil around hers, forcing her to retreat to avoid entrapment. He was back in control of the match and he knew it.


    She parried, countered, dodged, made him work for it as much as she possibly could. But she knew she was wearing him down. She could see him getting frustrated, hasty. If she could only endure ...


    It was all a lie. The last time she ducked under and to the side of his thrust, he used the whip that he had previously only used for defense to slap his tip over her shoulder, behind her back and against her shoulder blade.


    As the buzzer sounded, Tora turned away as he pumped his arm into the air, giving a cry of victory.


    "No point!" the teacher declared. "Etiquette! Tora!"


    ... In his enthusiasm, he''d fallen prey to the club''s more unique competitive rules that had more in common with kendo. The vice-captain barely suppressed his groan of frustration as he reluctantly returned to his starting point.


    Unfortunately for him, his new tactics didn''t avail him for a second time, now that she knew the end objective. Their exchanges were fast, but every time he went to try to open another shot, she moved in a way that denied him and forced him to retract quickly to defend against her counterattack. It wasn''t long before she was wearing him down again, forcing him to exhaust his energy in attacks that never landed.


    In a moment of clarity, she recalled Flare Witch''s fight against Dakunaito that first night, the way he defended, not because he had to, but because she made it the easiest path to take. She was pretty sure bashing his face with her pommel was an illegal move, sadly, but she remembered to slip attacks in all the same.


    They were little attacks at first, harmless little jabs that would have never closed but served to remind him that he couldn''t only focus on attacking. The more he tired himself with his relentless assault, the bigger her attacks became.


    The moment finally arrived where they were trading attacks equally, and she could see in his eyes through the mesh of the helmet that he understood what was happening.


    And then the scales tipped. He began defending more as his assault flagged and hers gained momentum. It became a torrent of blows as a veritable foil storm pushed him back, past the middle, past his starting point, into the danger zone as retreating became the only way he could keep defending against her onslaught.


    The buzzer sounded as her final blow lanced into his chest and finally drove him over the boundary as he landed with an anticlimactic thump onto his butt.


    "Match point!" the teacher declared. "Kelly!"


    The brunette took a moment to catch her breath before lowering her stance and pointing her foil down and to the right. She reached down to help the vice captain back to his feet, then stepped back from him again to hold her blade straight up before her as she bowed her head. "Thank you for the match."


    Tora chuckled and pulled the helmet off, his matted hair showing how much the match had driven him to sweat. It was a bit of a sour chuckle, though, and he shook his head. "Damn, the speed you learn at is terrifying."


    But then he turned back toward Reina and bowed his head. "I''m sorry, Miss President. I lost from my own hubris."


    The raven-haired young woman seemed expressionless at first, but when the teacher began announcing the next match-up, she interrupted him.


    "The next match is--"


    "I will be fighting next," she declared, and despite the difference in volume next to the teacher''s bellows, he went silent.


    The brunette looked over at him, but it seemed like while he was trying to insist that the order had already been determined and had to be respected, he had trouble raising an argument against her.


    Meanwhile, Reina stood and made her way over to the piste, her footsteps the only sound in the suddenly silent gymnasium. Only when she came to the opposing starting point did she speak again, her tone neutral and detached. "I didn''t think you could make it past Tora."


    "I nearly didn''t," the brunette confessed.


    "And it was his own fault," Tamashini agreed. "Yet I doubt he could beat you again."


    She didn''t answer that claim. How could she? Admitting that she could see through him now would only be seen as arrogant, but he would have to improve faster than her to overtake her again. As he was now, no, she was fairly certain he''d missed his chance.


    Fortunately, Reina seemed to realize the impossibility of a civil answer and didn''t wait for one. Though she''d carried her helmet up with her under her off arm, she tossed it to the side without preamble, letting it bounce and roll across the floor away from her. She pointed to the brunette''s with her foil. "Take it off. The vest and gloves, too."


    The brunette hesitated in confusion at the order, but then peeled her own helmet off and tossed it aside following the raven''s example, then did the same with the gloves. The vest went last, though with more care to avoid damaging the internals. This left her, like Reina, in only the cloth doublet and pants.


    Only when she finished complying did the club''s captain continue. "I propose our match be determined thus: No helmets, no target zones, no boundaries. We fight until one can no longer fight or surrenders, and the one who loses concedes the formal match."


    The mutterings from around the gymnasium returned once more. Even those who were getting their own matches delayed seemed to have forgotten the slight at the new development. Certainly, no one was going out of their way to dissuade it, not even the teacher.


    Slowly, the brunette nodded. "Agreed." Whether she wanted it or not, it seemed like the only path she would be allowed to go. At the very least, it meant some of the chains would be released from her.


    Reina raised her weapon toward her. "Then, Kelly, one last time ... En garde!"


    There was no pronouncement to start. Reina waited only long enough for the brunette to ready herself before she attacked. The way she moved was similar to Tora, and it was obvious who he had sought to emulate, but that was the only similarity between them. If Tora had been a knight, then Reina had suddenly become a monster.


    The brunette had faced this level of power only once before, when she sparred with Natsumi. Like the redhead, Reina didn''t use weapons in her alter ego of Sacred Witch, and like Flame Witch before her, more was the pity.


    Unlike Natsumi''s direct and heavy style of individual blows, however, Reina sought an overwhelming ferocity of attacks to penetrate as deeply into her opponent as her piercing black eyes. Even as her arm fired again and again like an overdriven piston, her dispassionate gaze never wavered from the brunette''s face.


    She couldn''t allow herself to get overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks. She thought if she could at least pull away, she could avoid them as a general area, but they moved with her. It seemed impossible, but every blow Reina launched was not just a blitz, but individually targeted.


    She would parry, strike back, try to ply openings, but like Natsumi, the black-haired upperclassman was quick to deflect. Even with her eyes locked onto the brunette, she never seemed to overlook the slightest movement from her.


    "What are you doing, Kelly?"


    The council president asked the question without even breaking stride in her assault, as easily as if they were still sitting at her desk.


    "I told you, no target zones, no boundaries. Give me your all."


    The brunette grimaced at that. Tamashini was right, she was trying too hard to keep thinking of it like a fencing match. Alright, then, time to play a little dirty.


    She let the captain drive her back toward the stands as the club members seated there nearly fled from them. Better to take the high ground and force Reina to pursue her uphill. Better to make the advantage of leverage and reach hers, at least for a short while.


    Once she was halfway up the bleachers, she reached under the guard of her foil and ripped out the battery pack, then promptly chucked it in Reina''s face. The raven-haired leader raised her arm over her face in reflex as the brunette used the expanded space to better grip her weapon in two hands and brought it down on Tamashini''s gloveless wrist.


    The captain gave a yelp of pain and jumped back, but kept her grip on her weapon, her gaze more wary at the underhandedness she had requested, but the shorter fighter wasn''t done yet.


    The brunette pursued her opponent by leaping from the stairs down at her with an overhand blow, but Reina slid to her right rather than stay in place. That was fine, expected, even. Weapon of choice or no, the foil in Reina''s hand was still only a fencing foil, and the worst she could have done by taking the opening was thrust it at the brunette''s chest, protected as it was by gambeson.


    Since the condition was to get the opponent to surrender or render them unable to continue fighting, the blow would have been pointless, and she would have taken a blow to the head or gone toppling to the floor with the brunette''s mass atop her in exchange.


    The moment the brunette landed on all fours at the base of the stands, she spun and sent her leg out in a sweep to catch the raven''s feet and yank them out from under her.


    One aspect of Reina''s that was not like Homura was that she was clearly inexperienced in unarmed combat, and the look of surprise on her face as she started going backwards was delightful to see.


    But then she bent back with it and got one hand under her. The brunette thought she caught ever the slightest flash from under that hand just before Reina launched herself off of the impromptu handspring and back to her feet a dozen arm spans away from her opponent.


    It was the freshman''s turn to look surprised. Did that cheater really just use magic to recover?! True, she was told that witches couldn''t use much without transforming, but Reina was the oldest and most experienced of them. It seemed that came with a few tricks up her sleeve, so long as she could pull them off subtly enough not to draw attention to it.


    The one trick the brunette knew was way too flashy to get away with.


    With nothing to do but push, the freshman threw herself back into the fray, leveraging her two-handed grip to brute force through Reina''s blitzes. Unfortunately, the light weight of the fencing foil meant it didn''t really translate two hands into extra force efficiently, making the trade off of lowered reach much less appealing.


    Like Tora before her, she knew what was happening long before it was clear to the onlookers, even as they chased each other back and forth across the breadth of the gymnasium and across every remotely traversable surface it contained.


    By the time it ended, Reina had backed her into a physical cinder block corner. With one final swipe, she hooked her foil under the brunette''s guard and slapped the weapon away from her, and then the point of her foil was at the underclassman''s throat.


    "I understand better now the issue in your initial sparring with Homura," Tamashini told her, the taller girl''s eyes still that piercing, unflinching black. "Nariko''s body is fit, but it is not trained for close combat."


    The student president narrowed her gaze as she punctuated her conclusion. "These are your limits with such a body. Until you improve it, you can go no further."


    The brunette set her jaw at that, struggling not to take offense, but any protests she might have raised were interrupted by enthusiastic laughter that had disturbed even the other members from celebrating their captain''s victory.


    A small-framed girl with glasses that took up most of her face was standing there near the door to the gymnasium, though she had surely not come through it.


    "Amazing, Prez!" she praised as she clapped for her hero. "I always knew you were strong, but it''s so wonderful to see you put that bully in her place like that!"


    Both girls turned toward this new arrival, who shadows seemed to cling to despite the overhead lights, with shock and surprise, though only Reina found her words.


    "Hisoka?!"

 Chapter Fifteen

    (15)


    But for the girl in the middle of it all, the entire club had gone as silent as the grave. It did not take a witch to understand that something was very wrong with her, even as she bashfully buried her face in her hands.


    "Prez, you called me Hisoka! Oh my, are we so close that we''ve reached a first name basis?!"


    Something ... changed in her tone as she peeked out between her fingers. Not the emotion she was portraying, but something closer to the already slipping sanity.


    "Or is it because you were afraid for me?"


    Reina tossed her foil aside without thinking as she stepped toward her council assistant, the girl that always tried so hard to be helpful, the girl that had been gone without a trace for a tenday.


    "Oh, I was. Everyone who knew you was worried, Hisoka. You disappeared and nobody knew what had happened to you."


    "It''s because I''m so weak, isn''t it?" Hisoka had her head down, but her tone didn''t express submission. "So many things could hurt me because I don''t have any strength, right?"


    Nariko, meanwhile, stepped away from the wall like she was sizing up the threat level of a grizzly, but said nothing.


    Reina, on the other hand, took another step toward Cho. "Hisoka ..."


    "But you don''t have to worry anymore, Prez!" she suddenly perked with gusto. At the same time, the shadows around her began lashing about like bannerets in a twister, forcing Tamashini to pause in her advance. "I''m not weak anymore!"


    "Here it comes ..." was the brunette''s first words since Cho''s arrival.


    Even Tora knew something was happening and ran for Reina''s side. "Miss President!" he shouted.


    But just as he went to pass Hisoka, the tiny girl slammed the back of her hand into his chest and sent him rolling back toward the stands. Reina''s gaze snapped to him in concern, but despite looking about to hurl, he''d come to a stop without harm.


    "Stay away from her, pretty boy!" the formerly timid secretary snapped at him. "She doesn''t need you anymore!"


    Perhaps Nariko had spoken too soon. Maybe there was just enough time to ask ...


    "Hisoka," the tall girl spoke calmly and evenly, "I had expected you to come when I was alone."


    The annoyance with the boy disappeared from the bespectacled girl''s face instantly as it illuminated at the knowledge that her idol had been thinking of her.


    "Oh, Prez is so sharp! That''d been the idea, but then I saw how strong you were beating up that bully and I just couldn''t stay hiding any longer!" She hugged her chest as she practically swooned. "Oh, to think I''d been so on Prez''s mind that she was even thinking about when to meet me! She really is the greatest!"


    So Kelly really was the key difference. If it had been Thunder Witch instead of Sword Witch, Tamashini never would have gotten her to visit the fencing club, and they''d never have had the round robin. If it had been a regular day--


    "Hey, Prez," the bespectacled girl pushed in impatiently, her little fists clenched as she struggled to contain her zeal, "I''m really sorry, I can tell you''re really thinking over something important, but I just can''t wait any longer! Please, can I fight Riko, too?! I want to show you what I can do!"


    At that proclamation, Nariko looked over at the leader of the witches, but Reina kept her focus on Cho. Mentally, she gave an apology that she couldn''t take the time to make sure Kelly was okay with it, but she also knew the brunette would be. This had to be done.


    Instead, after taking a moment to seemingly consider it, she nodded as she stepped out of the way. "Yes, Miss Cho. Proceed."


    Sure enough, without complaint, Kelly moved to put herself in front of Reina''s assistant, but her expression was far less coddling than her leader''s had been.


    "What''s wrong, Riko?" Cho asked with fake innocence. "You''re not smiling. You smiled last time we met, but not anymore!"


    "In case you hadn''t noticed, you''re surrounded by whorling dark energy."


    The bespectacled girl giggled like a child. "Does that scare you?"


    "Not really." Rather than let Hisoka control the conversation, she continued. "Listen, Hisoka, you deserve to know now that I can''t actually fight you. You can attack me, and I will defend myself, but I can''t actually allow myself to go all out on you."


    This time, the girl''s confusion seemed genuine as her head tilted so sharply to her right that it almost seemed like Cho had snapped her own neck in shock at the statement. "Huh? Why not?"


    "Because I''m stronger than you are, and that comes with certain responsibilities, like restraint and when and how to use your strength." Nariko clenched one fist as she stood more ready for combat. "And contrary to what you apparently have heard, I''m no bully."


    Hisoka''s giggling returned, first accompanied by an expression of disbelief, then madness as it spiraled up into a full blown cackle. "Hahahahahaha! Ahahahahahaha! How delusional! You still think you''re stronger than me?! Did you see what happened to the little vice-captain?!"


    Reina, too, had trouble imagining what was going through Nariko''s mind. She hadn''t summoned any of her weapons, and couldn''t so long as the club was present, yet she thought she was going to fight a proto-demon with her bare hands and it wasn''t even going to be a fair fight?


    Though, she reminded herself, this wasn''t Thunder Witch. This Riko had actually put on such a performance before. Still, she had to understand Cho wasn''t a dretch, right?


    Kelly, however, was unflinching. Her posture didn''t even change. "Whenever you''re ready, then."


    Cho''s disbelieving look came back as she stared at the brunette as if trying to figure out if the girl was serious.


    "Your funeral!" the former secretary finally declared and threw herself at the mere mortal.


    From the outside perspective, it looked like Nariko just barely touched Hisoka as she stepped out of her way, and then her attacker just sailed right on by her ... upside down and backwards.


    The gymnasium rumbled as if struck by an aftershock of a mighty earthquake as Cho collided with the far wall like a small wrecking ball.


    As the literal (concrete) dust settled, Hisoka pulled herself out of the hole in the wall with barely more than a blemish on her. "WHAT WAS THAT?!" she demanded in a rage.


    But still, Kelly was completely calm. This was very different from the Nariko Reina knew. That Nariko would be taunting and gloating about how amazingly awesome she was to do something like that.


    By comparison, this one''s response was simple and irrefutable. "That was the difference between your strength and mine."


    This time, Cho could only manage a strangled cry of rage as she charged again and tried some sort of jumping kick at her opponent, but as easy as picking a fruit, the brunette seemed to pluck her right out of the air by the limb and slammed her face-first into the gym''s wooden floor. Fragments of paneling flew in all directions.


    By the time Cho, absolutely red in the face, probably as much from the humiliation as the impact, itself, pulled herself up again, Nariko had already moved away to put herself just out of striking reach once more.


    "How?!" the bespectacled girl cried out, and yes, the glasses were somehow still on her face. "HOW?!"


    "I already answered that question," Kelly calmly replied. "It doesn''t matter how much power you may have. If you don''t understand how to use it, you will lose one hundred percent of the time against anyone who does. Every time you attack me, your power belongs wholly to me, and I alone decide what happens with it."


    Cho staggered back to her feet, not from damage suffered, but from the deep, seething breaths she was forcing in and out of her small body. "You''re LYING! There''s some TRICK! I''M STRONGER THAN ANYBODY!"


    "Then it''s ironic that you''ve stopped attacking."


    Another feral howl of rage, and the secretary threw herself at the witch again, arms out as if she might throttle the brunette directly.


    And then it was over the next instant. Cho''s face was against the ground with Kelly''s foot planted between her shoulder blades. Cho''s arm twisted around in the brunette''s grip as she moved as if to push it into a direction it very much was not meant to go, but Kelly stopped before the leverage would rip the limb from Hisoka''s shoulder socket.


    ... The way Hisoka thrashed and yowled underneath her could have certainly given any onlooker the impression the martial artist had shown no such restraint. Of course, it was all the secretary''s own doing, making the pain worse the harder she resisted, and all for naught.


    "STOP!"


    The word ripped itself from Reina''s throat almost before she had realized it, and the scuffling between the both of them fell to silence as they watched her.


    "Kelly, get off of my secretary."


    Despite the calmer voice, it was more than enough for Nariko to release the limb and step away.


    Though darkness still swirled around her, Hisoka didn''t rise as Reina approached her. Instead, she couldn''t even bring herself to look the taller girl in the eyes.


    Rather than stand over her or scold her, Tamashini knelt down next to her, and with one hand straightened Cho''s glasses on her face and pushed them back up her nose.


    There was a long moment of silence between them. Hisoka was the first to break it, but the moment she stalled, the president cut her off.


    "Prez, I --"


    "I let you fight because I thought it might help you get things off of your shoulders. Did it?"


    Hisoka''s eyes went back to the ground. "I ... I wanted to show you ... I was strong enough to change ..."


    "No strength gained through shortcuts is worth the cost, Hisoka. They change you in all of the wrong ways."


    "But ... but I''m STRONG!"


    "Strong enough to beat Kelly?"


    Hesitantly, the secretary raised her gaze toward the brunette, but quickly snapped her gaze back to Reina once she''d done so. "But she''s a monster!"


    Reina couldn''t resist looking over at the "monster" for herself at that, but Nariko just arched an eyebrow at the accusation. Instead, the raven-haired girl turned her attention back to Cho.


    "I thought you wanted it," Tamashini told her instead. "Did you not gain enough power to face a monster? If this is as far as your conviction can bring you, then it is no wonder you surrendered to other powers to lift you up."


    It felt wrong, encouraging Cho to fight like that, goading her on. But if Hisoka''s morale broke, she might have tried to run away, and if she escaped ...


    The girl hesitated, but after a moment, set her jaw and went to stand. "I will ..."


    "Can you?" Reina demanded. "Or are you just going to make me watch you suffer needlessly for the sake of your own pride?"


    Again, hesitation.


    Yes, maybe she could talk her down entirely!


    That was when Kelly started for the exit.


    "Wait!" Cho shouted at her. "Where do you think you''re going?!"


    Over her shoulder, Kelly gave the girl a glare so flat and fed up that it nearly gave Reina a shiver. "You''ve lost the will to fight, so we''re done here, right? I don''t fight scaredy-cats."


    What was that girl thinking? Couldn''t she see Reina was trying to de-escalate the situation?


    Cho, for her part, stared at the brunette in utter bewilderment, wide-eyed at the audacity. Then the shadows flared again so fiercely that Reina had to back away from her once more. The girl curled herself inward as if every muscle in her body were tensing at once and all of the shadows began to spiral down into them like they were being sucked down a drain.


    "Don''t you walk away from me," she growled, and as she stood, her uniform seemed a size too small for her body, the shirt pulling free of the skirt''s waist to allow a little abdomen to show through, the skirt seeming just a little too short to pass the ruler test. Her voice raised to a furious shout as her clothes continued to shrink ... or rather, as quickly became apparent, she continued to grow. "YOU DON''T GET TO WALK AWAY FROM ME!"


    Cho''s skull grew too large for her glasses, but she didn''t seem to notice them fall off of her face. Her foot promptly came down on them as it grew too large for her shoes, crunching them without any mind. Her skin darkened as she grew, a blue tint passing across it even as the sound of her clothes tearing filled the air around her.


    The fencing club were utterly silent, staring slackjawed as muscles that were boldly defined, but were more toned and lean than bulky, rippled across all of her blue flesh, an abundance of it to see with her uniform''s top reduced to a glorified sports bra and her skirt little more than a loincloth. At about seven feet tall, she was perhaps no true giant, but she towered above everyone else in the room.


    She ran a hand through her wilder, if still comparably short, hair, revealing a set of nub horns just above the hairline, then stretched her new body dramatically as she set her black sclera on Nariko.


    "I told you, Riko," she confidently declared as one hand reached out to grasp a new bundle of shadows that condensed into a large, iron-clad club, "there''s no way you''re stronger than I am! Your tricks won''t work when you''re so tiny next to me!"


    Kelly had, indeed, turned back toward Hisoka, and had moved slightly to bring her closer toward Reina, but it was the latter she addressed, rather than the proto-demon that had addressed her. "Now that your little secretary has turned into She-Hulk, maybe now''s a good time for a seal?"


    Tamashini looked toward her with a stunned expression. Had that been Nariko''s plan?! Had she been waiting for Reina to make a seal as things got more and more out of hand?! "I don''t know how to make seals. If the demons don''t make them, Sarasa has to."


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    For a moment, Kelly''s expression matched her own. "... Then I may have miscalculated. Badly."


    The sight of motion pulled Reina''s eyes back to her former assistant. "Club!"


    Even though the crushing blow was aimed at Kelly, both girls jumped clear of the impact zone as more wood and concrete went flying.


    "We''ve got to get her away from the club members," the brunette shouted. "We can worry about neuralizers later!"


    "She''ll follow you wherever you go," Reina called back, "but if you drag her out into the open, we might never track down everyone that sees the fight! It''s hard, but at least here, we know who''s exposed!"


    The other girl growled in frustration as she racked her brain for some other solution, but just as the blue oni was pulling back for another strike, the entire room felt a sudden sensation of off.


    It even made Cho look around the otherwise completely empty gymnasium in confusion despite her fury. "... Huh? Where''d everybody go?"


    Though the witches were surprised, too, knowing what they were dealing with meant they recovered faster.


    "They are still here, Hisoka," Reina told her calmly as she held her right arm diagonally down across her body as violet light flickered at the tips of her index and middle fingers. "They are just a fraction of a second ahead of us, so that anything we do from here on out doesn''t register with reality and they are safe from harm."


    The energy flashed into the form of a violet card she threw skyward. "TRANSFORM!"


    The purple energy crashed down around her, only to swirl and coil across the ground to her feet and back up her sides. It embraced her like a cool, moonlit mist, but she spun away from it, leading it, always leading, in a dance it could never quite catch up with. It grabbed at her legs, her limbs, her body, ever trying to clamber closer to her, never holding her and only solidifying into attire to further adorn her.


    "Heavenly crescent of ascendance!"


    As the transformation finished, she ended the dance with a forceful stomp that scattered the last of the violet mist as she leaned into a final, authoritative pose. "Sacred Witch!"


    Suddenly, nearly right in her face, there were almost literally stars in the seven-foot-tall blue girl''s black eyes. "Wow! Prez is a magical girl?! Wow! I always knew there was something amazingly special about you, Miss Prez!"


    Repeating herself and the constant switching of mood and focus made her seem manic and unbridled, but Reina knew that was only half true. She was close to Cho, or at least considered herself such, and wasn''t nearly as aloof as people thought. The council president was aware that Hisoka admired her deeply, but was entirely too shy to be so upfront about it.


    As a proto-demon, Cho''s hesitancy and restraint had been ripped away until nothing was left but pure expression. Of course, that didn''t explain the strange animosity she had toward Kelly, as the secretary had never seemed prone to jealousy. Something struck Sacred Witch as off about how readily and hatefully she glared at the brunette.


    Hisoka turned that gaze back onto Nariko as if someone had flipped a light switch, just glowering at her without saying anything for a long, long moment.


    "... What?" Riko finally asked, having just been standing there while Sacred Witch transformed.


    "Well?" the blue girl who now towered over the brunette demanded. "You obviously knew about it, so you''re one, too, right? Are you going to transform or what?"


    "I mean, I wasn''t planning on it."


    For a change, the blue girl seemed equal parts let down and insulted instead of just the latter. Her cheeks puffed at the same time as her eyes fired back up. Reina couldn''t shake the impression Cho had been looking forward to it despite the hostility.


    "You''re still underestimating me, Riko?!" the newly minted oni girl raged at her. "How long are you going to keep insulting me?!"


    "Perhaps you should, Kelly, just to be polite," Sacred Witch encouraged with some thought. Maybe giving Hisoka a bit more of what she wanted would soothe her temper.


    But the brunette just shook her head. "You spoil her too much, Prez." Kelly emphasized the title Cho was still using when she said it. She walked over to where her foil had fallen to retrieve it, seemingly in no particular hurry. "Besides, I have a reason not to transform."


    When Nariko reached the weapon, she picked it up and examined under the guard where the battery had plugged in. "You aren''t the only one that wants to run an experiment."


    Sacred Witch found herself shaking her head as she stared at the brunette like she''d lost her marbles. "Kelly, proto-demons cannot be harmed by mundane weapons, and that isn''t even a weapon! It''s a sporting foil! You couldn''t cut a grape with it!"


    "That it''s a sporting foil is exactly why it''s what I need," Kelly replied, then set her eyes on Cho. "And I have an easily manageable, low-threat opponent that also happens to only be harmed by magic. I couldn''t think of a more perfect setup."


    The floor shook under the force of Hisoka''s foot as an infuriated growl rolled out of her throat. "Why do you keep insulting me?!"


    * * *


    The brunette looked first to the face of Sacred Witch, whose expression was still of bewilderment, then to the blue growth spurt that was Hisoka Cho, her gaze still of fury and aggression.


    Why the latter held such hatred for her after only a single meeting was unfathomable. She was certain they had parted with good impressions of each other. The only logical conclusion was that it was connected to the corruption that got hold of her.


    She held the foil before her gaze and slowly led her free hand down its surface. "You still aren''t getting it, Hisoka," the brunette answered as she did so. "You''re still confusing power for strength. Power is just potential, but strength is the ability to force your will on the world around you. You can have all of the power in the world, but if you don''t know how to use it, then it doesn''t turn into strength."


    Of course, this talking, this conversation, it was to buy her time. She had to figure out how, exactly, to do what she wanted. The foil wasn''t a demon weapon, and for any other Witch, it just might be useless, even if it were possible. The foil was not designed to channel magic, but it was designed to channel electricity. Likewise, by all accounts, her own power was still tied to electricity even if she couldn''t use Thunder Witch''s skills.


    That meant, if she could just reproduce the sensation of her magic flowing into her demon sword, it might very well be possible to --


    The air around the foil crackled and snapped as electricity visibly rushed down its side. The brunette startled and slapped her other hand over the one holding the weapon, and had its thumb jammed into the foil''s battery socket. "Too much!"


    By the time the charge cut out, a glance at the two others still in the gymnasium showed that both of their expressions had changed to mutual stunned silence.


    She cleared her throat and focused her senses on the idea of a thinner, lighter flow of power before she continued to address the towering blue girl.


    "If I can share with you a secret, I speak from first hand experience, being where you are. Yes, I have strength, but I also have a great deal of power I barely understand or know how to use. I''m learning new things about it nearly every day, but only because I''m always trying to do so."


    The brunette held the foil away from her once more, slowly this time, as if trying not to spill an overfull cup. The weapon didn''t spark this time, but from her proximity, she thought she detected a definite hum.


    A couple slow, gentle sweeps with the foil, and she couldn''t help but think the sound was like the hum often given to plasma blades in media. She didn''t actually know if this was a safe limit for the weapon, or if it was enough to even work. Only testing it would answer those questions.


    On the upside, if it blew up like the Dretch weaponry, it would just get brought back when the seal broke, so she shouldn''t be on the hook for paying for a replacement.


    She looked to Sacred Witch. "Proto-demons will regenerate if allowed to rest like Witches do, right?"


    Slowly, as if having to free up portions of her mind to consider the question, Reina nodded. "... More or less ..."


    That question made Hisoka''s back straighten, obviously cluing in that it represented a potential threat to her. But when the brunette turned back to her, the girl she called Riko didn''t attack. She only continued to hold the foil like it was a red-hot poker.


    "Then if you''re ready, Hisoka, I believe I''m prepared to continue."


    * * *


    She''s mocking you. She still believes she holds the privilege of the strong.


    The black thought wormed its way to the forefront of Hisoka''s mind as if it were her own, and she set her jaw in response.


    Look at her waiting for you to attack. She''s bullying you, Hisoka. Bullying you by acting like she can carelessly offer you first blood.


    She climbed back fully to her feet from where she had been crouched. Her knuckles went white on the grip with which she held the massive club the shadows had provided her.


    This is not the company Reina should keep. Such rudeness can''t be trusted to serve her like you can.


    She clenched every muscle from her jaw to her calf. She could feel dark energy exploding with every twitch, with every neuron fire. Every movement priming with unreleased raw power.


    There is only one thing to do. Only one way to protect Reina.


    The blue-skinned secretary sent herself hurling at the brunette half her size with a scream of primal rage.


    YOU MUST KILL RIKO!


    * * *


    Even if infusing the foil with magic was successful, there was no way the brunette was going to trust the flimsy haft to block a kanabo being swung two-handed by a proto-oni. Fortunately, Hisoka''s attack pattern remained painfully predictable from the formerly bespectacled girl''s complete inexperience.


    Instead, she stepped to the outside of the overhead swing and took the opening to slash at Hisoka''s exposed wrist even as the ground shook beneath her feet. Viscous, dark red blood trailed the foil''s tip and the larger girl screamed in the first real pain she''d felt this fight.


    The experiment''s success was tempered by a disturbing vibration that traveled back up the foil and into the brunette''s hand. It was working, tentatively, but she didn''t think the foil had the durability to handle many more strikes. Maybe if she had the time, she could fine tune the amount of energy she was putting in, but much less, and she doubted it''d be any more effective than the training weapon it was built to be.


    If this was a fight to the death, after slapping the wrist, her next blow would have been up to Hisoka''s throat, but she absolutely didn''t want to kill the girl. Unfortunately, she also didn''t have the ability with her makeshift weapon to engage in a prolonged trading of blows.


    Unless she wanted to have to fall back to her golden blade and risk doing her serious harm even accidentally, the brunette had to end this quickly.


    There was no clear cessation of movement from the untransformed Sword Witch after striking the wrist. Even as Hisoka recoiled in pain, the brunette kept moving past her. At seven feet tall, the blue-skinned schoolgirl still wasn''t large enough to need more than a couple quick strides to put the shorter girl on the other side, and the quick flick of the wrist the brunette learned from Tora made the two slashes that followed so fast they were almost invisible.


    Hisoka''s knees crashed to the gymnasium floor before she really processed that she was falling. She had still been holding her wrist in her other hand, club cradled under an arm, but now she found herself staring at the tile in bewilderment.


    She went to stand, but the moment she tried to support her weight on her foot, the limb flopped to the side and she went down again. It was another moment before she realized she felt pain there, on the back of her ankle. Both of them.


    She whipped around, her jaw wrenched in fury, but, to her shame, tears beading in the corners of her eyes. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!"


    "I cut your Achilles'' tendons," the other girl calmly answered as she walked back into sight. The foil again had occasional crackles that crawled down its side, and it seemed to erratically shake ever so subtly in her grasp. It looked, in a word, unstable.


    The response stunned the larger girl silent for a moment. "You CRIPPLED me?! Why?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!"


    "Because I don''t want you to run. Those are my standing orders. Don''t let Hisoka run. No matter what it takes."


    Behind the brunette, Sacred Witch''s eyes widened. "That''s why you wanted to know if she''d recover."


    The brunette nodded, and explained it to the proto-demon. "Witches like Reina and myself heal quickly. In your current state, so will you. If you can bring yourself to relax and rest, you''ll be fine in probably a couple minutes."


    The shock that she actually wasn''t crippled seemed to still her tongue for a moment, but only one. "But why?! I wouldn''t run from someone half my size!"


    "Wouldn''t you?" The shorter girl took the increasingly angry fencing foil over to a lidded trash can, dropped it in and closed the lid. "Before you transformed, you were ready to stop fighting me entirely. You swore I was a terrible monster you could barely fathom. Your will would have broken then and there if Tamashini and I hadn''t goaded you on."


    She had stepped away from the trash can, but she paused in her speaking when there was a disturbing sound of a small, muffled explosion coming from it. Apparently, fencing foils were a bit more temperamental than dretch blades were.


    The brunette continued anyway. "What would you have done then? Fallen back on your insecurities? Fled into the night? Begged the shadows that empowered you to take you away, anywhere but where you were too embarrassed to show your face?"


    Hisoka broke her gaze and looked away. "What do you care? Do you want to know so you can bully me some more? Mock me for being weak and cowardly and clumsy?"


    "I care because, if you ran, Reina said you would never come back."


    Hisoka''s gaze moved to Sacred Witch, the hatred she had for the brunette evaporating into lost confusion.


    The raven-haired girl stepped toward Hisoka, tall enough in her heeled boots that, with the blue girl on her knees, she was head and shoulders taller than her secretary once more.


    "Hisoka, by accepting a demon''s curse into yourself, you''ve become what we call a proto-demon," she explained. "You aren''t a full demon yet, but in time, you will become more and more violent and destructive. Once you become a full demon, healing you will be impossible. Even if you die, you will eventually regenerate in their realm."


    The student president put a hand on the arm of her secretary. "If we don''t purify you now, you will never be human again."


    Real horror illuminated the blue girl''s eyes as she recoiled from Sacred Witch. "What?! No! You can''t! I''ve finally got power! Real power! Don''t you see?! Nobody will ever look down on me again! You can''t take that away from me!"


    "You don''t have real power," the brunette disagreed with a shake of her head. "You''re borrowing it from a very dark place that''s corrupting you the longer you hold onto it." She took several steps up to Hisoka''s opposite side from Sacred Witch. "If you want real power, if you want strength, you can''t take shortcuts to it. But if it''s truly something you want, we can help you find it."


    Unable to escape on her feet, the large girl scurried away in reverse on her butt. "As if I''d believe you," she howled accusingly, rage returning the instant she shifted her focus. "The strong don''t help others up! You don''t want the competition!"


    The sword user sighed and shook her head yet again. "I have nothing against competition, Hisoka. In fact, I''d be delighted if you reached that level one day. I told you, I''ve only gotten where I am, myself, by constantly pushing upwards. You''ve mistaken me for a bully."


    She raised a finger for emphasis. "Bullies aren''t strong. They''ve got a little bit of power, but they know they aren''t strong. That''s why they go to such work to keep those weaker than them from climbing up; they''re terrified of being passed."


    "You''re the reason I can''t even stand!" Cho slapped her large hands against the gymnasium floor with a resounding impact. "Now you''re going to stand there and tell me you''re not a bully?!"


    "I''m not," she said with conviction. Energy sparked at the end of her index and ring finger as she held her hand diagonally across from her. Hisoka''s eyes lit up as she recognized the motion just before the brunette threw a golden card toward the ceiling.


    "TRANSFORM!"


    Once the transformation finished, blade in hand, Sword Witch completed her response. "I''m a Witch."


    Hisoka''s black eyes sparkled for a moment at the sight of a second transformation before she remembered she hated the person using it. Her expression promptly dropped back into a venomous scowl as if she was trying to act like she hadn''t gotten excited.


    "What difference does that make?" she demanded instead. "You''ve looked down on me since we first met!" Her tone turned sarcastic. "Oh, look at the poor, clumsy little girl, can''t even get to her clubs on time! Can''t even carry out an errand without breaking something or running someone over!"


    The large girl pointed directly at Sword Witch in petulant accusation. "You can''t fool me! That nice act was nothing but you getting off on how much better you thought you were than me!"


    The brunette opened her mouth to bite back in response, but caught herself. Instead, she sighed as she placed her free hand over her face and pulled the fingers down its length. Then she knelt down next to the girl despite how it reinforced their size difference.


    "Look, Hisoka," she started, "I''m not the greatest at interacting with people genuinely. I''ve spent too much of my life anticipating what they want from me. I tell them what they want to hear, I become what they expect of me. But if I''m kind, it''s because I want to be kind. If I was just acting, all you would have gotten out of me is polite. Anything telling you otherwise is just the darkness manipulating you."


    The proto-demon started to protest, but Sacred Witch took her blue hand into her own grip and also knelt next to her.


    "Prez ..." was all Cho managed instead.


    "Hisoka, I promise you, I would not allow evil people to stand beside me, and I am proud to call Sword Witch my ally." Sacred Witch briefly tightened her grip on Cho''s hand. "So please, let us save you."


    The seven foot tall girl looked like she wanted to fold immediately, looking into those steely eyes. Before she could, however, she broke eye contact and looked away. "If ..." She struggled to find just a little more selfishness in her. "If it was for Prez. If she needed it ..."


    A small, rare smile came to the raven-haired girl''s lips, and the next moment, the magical outfit vanished into purple mist that drifted away to nothingness as if on a breeze. Reina Tamashini was left there holding her hand.


    "Please, Hisoka," she said as she rubbed the top of the girl''s hand. "Please don''t leave me. Who else could I count on if you left me?"


    Again, the larger girl looked away, but this time to hide a blush and a tiny, embarrassed smile. "Well, okay. If it''s for Prez."


    "I told you, you spoil her too much," Sword Witch put in teasingly.


    "Hush," Reina scolded, then set Hisoka''s hand back in her lap before standing. The council president stepped back a bit before reactivating her transformation, which, again, Hisoka watched with fascination.


    "There''s just one thing left before we can do that," Sacred Witch stated, and looked to her teammate. "Would you mind? I fear I lack the heart to do it."


    This time, Sword Witch shook her head as she stood. "Spoiling," she sighed as she summoned her gun to her left hand.


    The large girl''s eyes went wide. "Wait, what are you doing?!"


    "Sorry, kiddo," the brunette replied as she raised the weapon. "You gotta be KO''d before we can do the purification. Don''t worry, we''ll heal you up."


    "Wait, WAIT!!!"


    BLAM!


    The weapon''s echoes ricocheted around the gymnasium long after the light of the attack faded, muffling the sound of the upper half of the demi-giant''s body hitting the floor.


    The two witches stood there in the growing silence without saying anything for a long moment. Finally, Sacred Witch stepped toward her former secretary and raised her hands before her in a series of increasingly complex motions.


    "Study what you can of my purification, Kelly," she instructed the other witch. "If you could pick up purification, as well, having three of us would be a huge boon for the team. Then you should go call Sarasa while I heal her up."


    "I''m watching," Sword Witch confirmed.


    The team leader nodded, then proceeded with gathering the energy necessary.


    "Moonlight Elicitation!"

 Chapter Sixteen

    (16)


    The bedroom rang with the laughter from the two girls.


    The brunette jumped up onto her bed as she acted out the scene for the sake of the blonde sitting at the desk. "But when he came at her, she backed away so fast, her own legs couldn''t keep up with her!"


    She laced her left leg around behind her right and clawed at the air before her. "She starts falling, she scrabbles for anything she can get hold of, and catches his sleeve and collar ..."


    Despite what probably happened in the described events, the brunette only leaned her upper body back so she didn''t fall, herself, as she unwrapped her left leg and raised it against an imaginary foe. "But she''s still going back, and her foot kicks out, and that poor boy falls right into an honest-to-goodness picture perfect circle throw!"


    With a small yelp, the girl finally lost her own balance and fell back onto her bed, the springs bouncing her to absorb the impact. She quickly sat back up, however, and motioned widely with both arms. "The place is quiet. Even the judge hasn''t decided what to say. And when she sits up, if I''m lying, I''m dying, the first words out of her mouth are, Did I lose?"


    Haru was trying to stifle her laughter with her hand, but it came out more like snorting as she bent over with the effort. "Oh no!" she managed between the convulsions in her chest. "I don''t know which of them to feel worse for!"


    Her best friend swung her legs back off of the bed to return to a more normal sitting posture. "Apparently, this wasn''t even the first time! Her teacher says she missed her calling, should''ve studied Drunken Master."


    The blonde had finally managed to calm herself to fits of giggles, and eventually those settled, too. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sniffed. "Is she going to be okay? With a track record like that, she''s not going to fail out of her tests, is she?"


    "Nah." The brunette shook her head as she waved the concern off. "Tests are strictly knowledge and control. Forms, technique, that sort of thing. From what I hear, Cho''s been practicing that stuff obsessively. She should pass anything they throw at her, so long as it''s not a human opponent."


    "Is that going to work, though? I know she hasn''t been attending the dojo long, but is it really going to help her any if she can''t use it?"


    The girl that used Nariko''s name sighed more seriously at that, but didn''t answer immediately. Instead, she stood and walked over to the shelves of dolls and stuffed animals as if their plastic eyes might give her the right words.


    Hisoka longed for strength. Her own insecurities had made her a target for the dark curse of a demon that had never announced itself. As part of getting the girl to let the witches heal her, they''d promised to help her find real strength that wouldn''t corrupt her.


    Martial arts had seemed, at the time, an obvious path for that, and by all accounts, she was giving it her all. Any time it came to a practical test, though, the council secretary''s unfortunate sense of coordination had proven a bigger hurdle than they had anticipated.


    "Homura told me she''s been having more and more accidents like that and fewer where she''s just ending up sprawled out in a mess of limbs," she finally said, referring to the spectacular and unexpected throw she''d been relaying to Haru. "I''d like to think it''s getting through to her in spite of herself. Her biggest issue is having the confidence and trust in herself to stop fighting her own body so hard."


    She stayed in front of the dolls, though, as she went silent again. After standing there a moment, she reached out and ran a finger over one, only to examine the dust the digit pulled away.


    She''d like to think it would be so simple. That Hisoka wasn''t swimming by on dumb luck. That it was all in the girl''s head. But she''d made Cho a promise. The possibility that she was just wasting the secretary''s time and hard effort ate at her.


    Haru stood, as well, and stepped over so she was behind and to the side of the brunette. Of course, with her empathy, she knew what wasn''t being said. But she had the good sense not to call it out directly.


    "You don''t share her love of brightly colored stuffed critters, I see," she said instead, no longer referring to Hisoka.


    "I like them well enough," she entertained the change of subject. "I just don''t know what to do with them."


    "Cleaning them would be a good start," Haru suggested. "They haven''t seen so much as a fox tail since you got here, have they?" She stepped in to lift a seal from the display, and she turned it over in her hands. "You keep leaving them without any care like this, and she''s going to be mad at you when she gets back."


    "I don''t know. It just seems like we''ve always got something bigger on our plates."


    The blonde moved up next to her friend and nestled the stuffed animal into the brunette''s hand. "Y''know, Riko, sometimes, if you want something to matter, you''ve got to put the time in to make it matter."


    Haru let her words marinate for a moment before spinning in a full circle, arms outstretched, back to her chair, where she flopped back down with her legs crossed and a grin on her face. "And with that fortune cookie, Chiaki-fucius is closed for the day! Walk me home, Riko!"


    The brunette stared at her for a moment, but finally chuckled to herself as she put the seal back on the shelf.


    * * *


    Marcus and Misaki, Nariko''s parents, were watching the evening news when the girls came downstairs. Apparently, seismologists were still scratching their heads over a freak earthquake that had hit a local school last month.


    "Mom, Dad," the brunette announced as the two teens rounded the corner, "I''m walking Haru home."


    "Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly," the blonde girl bowed. "And thank you for dinner."


    "Any time, Haru," Saki replied as the two adults turned their attention to them. "You know you''re practically a third daughter to us."


    "Stay safe and stick to the sidewalk," her husband insisted. "No detours this late at night. Too many weirdos out there lately."


    "Oh, you listen to the news too much," Saki teasingly scolded him. "Those people were probably just dressing up as characters."


    "Well, it''s not a problem," the brunette reassured them both as the girls sat by the door to slip their shoes on. "We weren''t planning any detours, anyway." She finished first and got to her feet. "We''re off!"


    Once the two girls were out the door, the couple turned back toward each other.


    "I''m so glad Riko''s feeling better," the woman told her husband with a smile. "When the school year started, she was suddenly so distant that it felt like we were living with a stranger!"


    Marcus put an arm over his wife''s shoulders and squeezed her far arm reassuringly. "I told you it was just nerves. High school intimidating her. Now that she''s gotten into the flow of things, it all eased up."


    "I''m glad I listened to you, dear, and didn''t make a big fuss about it."


    * * *


    Haru didn''t say anything more until the two of them were past the Kelly''s privacy fence, but the brunette could tell it wasn''t for lack of something to say. Sure enough, as if the gate were a signal, she started immediately after it clanged against the latch.


    "Is it true she knows who we are?"


    It felt strange to the brunette, who had the burden of unspeakable secrets for the first three days of her life in this world of magic and witches and demons, how uncomfortable the other girls were over having someone in on the loop. Oh, she understood the reticence all too well. To her own sense of scale, however, she had opened up to them so long ago. It was only once she''d done so that her own burdens had become manageable.


    It was with a sense of fragility that one realized they had an essential secret in the hands of someone they didn''t know, though. Haru was not the first to ask if this had been a wise course of action, either. Oddly, Sword Witch was one of the only two that hadn''t. The other was, of course, Sacred Witch, who trusted her secretary utterly.


    "She begged and pleaded," the brunette answered her friend''s question as the two set off down the street. "First with Reina, then with Miss Sada. Cho said that if she was going to be trying to change herself, she didn''t think she could do it if she didn''t remember why."


    Stolen novel; please report.


    She lowered her head with a chuckle before she gave her own thoughts on the matter, however. "Personally, I think she''s hoping if she doesn''t get her memory wiped, she might wake up one morning with a magical skirt of her own."


    "Do you think it could happen?" Haru asked the question after considering it, herself. "That luck of hers certainly sounds like something crazy enough to be a power."


    "It''s a possibility," and, in fact, it was something Sword Witch had already given a decent amount of thought. "My gut tells me it''s not terribly likely, though. It''s telling me she lacks something fundamental every witch I''ve ever met has."


    "Lots of magic?" the pigtailed girl tried to guess. "A dark inner secret? Convenient preexisting connections to the rest of the team?"


    The brunette chuckled. Obviously, two of those were tropes. Or at least she hoped Haru meant them as tropes. But no, those weren''t what her gut said Hisoka Cho lacked. "Will."


    "Will?" Haru repeated the one word with bewilderment as she looked over at her friend.


    She nodded. "Every witch has this core in them. Sure, Cho seems like she''d endure a lot for something she wants, but I get a different sense from Witches. This bedrock in each of you. Even Ran has it. As scared of everything as she is, she''ll never stop. Nothing could make her. She''d protect her friends to her very last breath, no matter what it''d cost her."


    Haru was nodding along with the idea. "And you don''t think Hisoka has that?"


    "No, not quite." The brunette shook her head. "She''s got a lot, like I said, and she''ll go further than most, but I don''t think she''d go as far as a Witch would. She''d have to take what she wanted like a pit bull and lock down on it so she couldn''t let go even if she wanted. As it is, I think she''d fold long before she ever got to that point."


    "Could she learn it?"


    "Maybe, but it''d have to be for the right reasons." The brunette hung her head with a sigh. "As it is, I think she just likes magical girls and hasn''t really processed the dangers we face, or the costs if we failed. It''s a lot of weight, emotionally. All she sees is the glitter and power."


    But Haru giggled at that thought. "You have to admit, it''s a lot of glitter and power, don''t you think?"


    She chuckled, too. "Perhaps, but some of us have more glitter than others, Miss Ribbon."


    "Hey, my outfit looks amazing!"


    "Your outfit looks like a glitter bomb went off in the middle of a ribbon factory."


    "Exactly," the blonde insisted, turning half toward her friend to shake her finger. "Like I said, amazing!"


    After letting her defense soak in for a moment, Haru''s face turned impish as she directed it halfway back away from the brunette again.


    It just screamed, You''re about to regret making fun of my dress!


    "But about this will, do you think Sword Witch has it?"


    The brunette held her chin in thought, her other arm across her chest. After a moment, though, she didn''t bring herself to answer directly. "The humble part of me tells me to say I''m the wrong one to ask. That''s not something the individual can really, fully answer from their own perspective."


    The impish look vanished, replaced with utter shock - too much shock, in fact, to be taken seriously. "Nariko Kelly has a sense of humility?!" The pigtailed blonde''s face became one of suspicion and accusation, again overplayed. "Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?!"


    The outsider would see the common surface joke, but when the brunette gave an uncomfortable chuckle, it was at the double joke''s other, literal meaning. She knew Haru accepted her, but the empath had chosen her counter-barb well.


    "Okay, I''m sorry for making fun of Flare Witch''s dress."


    Haru''s grin of victory was again impish, even turned away as it was. "You should be!"


    Still, the blonde turned her attention back to the question she''d raised. Unlike her friend, her own thinking pose was to clasp her hands behind the base of her tailbone and take slower, wider strides with her steps. "Hmm, but if that''s what the humble part of you says, then that means you''re pretty sure you do."


    "I''ve pushed through a lot of hard times through sheer willpower," the other girl agreed. She couldn''t exactly say what those situations were, but she was positive she''d been tried by fire more than once. "Bleeding, broken, bound, it doesn''t matter. If you can even think, you''re still in the fight, and there''s still something you can do. But the moment you give up, anything that happens after that is entirely your fault."


    Haru turned to look over at her friend''s familiar face in the twilight with a frown on her own. No doubt the idea of Nariko Kelly pushing herself so hard through so much disturbed her, even if the one that had been doing it wasn''t actually Nariko Kelly. "Sounds hardcore."


    It was accusation, not praise.


    "Does it?" she asked, as if the thought had only just occurred to her. "If it''s either that or die, I can''t say I care for the alternative."


    Haru''s fists balled. "You shouldn''t be putting yourself in those sorts of situations in the first place!"


    The brunette''s face went red in embarrassment as she rubbed the back of her head. "Ehehe, in my defense, I didn''t exactly have much in the way to hold me accountable. No one as nice as you to worry about me coming back!"


    The blonde''s fist thumped against her chest, and she was struck by the idea that such a weak blow had previously pushed away Dakunaito. "Don''t do that, Riko! Don''t pull that flirty otherworldly protagonist nonsense on me! I''m serious! You''ve said it, yourself, that you weren''t a Witch in that life and there weren''t any demons to fight, so I know you didn''t have to be there!"


    A seed of guilt popped into her head at that. Was that true? Yes, she had a feeling it was. Maybe it wasn''t true for every time she''d been in such a tight spot, but she had a guilty sense that, more often than not, she''d been looking for it.


    Haru looked into her face pleadingly. "Riko, I want you to promise me. You might not be erased. Sarasa said it''s impossible, after all. You might end up back in your own life someday. If you do, Riko, I want you to promise me you won''t be so needlessly reckless. Because even if you don''t have to answer to me face to face the next morning, you''re not alone anymore."


    Awkwardly, the brunette wrapped her arms around the blonde to hug her because she couldn''t find the words to reply. When she did, it was just two words. "I promise."


    It was actually Haru who was first to break the moment, having regained her temperament after the bit of reassurance. She stepped back with a wry grin. "Well, enough of that, Riko, before someone starts shipping us."


    She started walking again, and the brunette shook her head before catching up with her.


    The two walked on a bit further before Haru was again the one to start talking first, albeit on a different topic. Apparently, she had heard her fill on the topic of a witch''s will, and how far her friend had been willing to go to test her own in her previous life.


    "So how''s airsoft?"


    After Reina''s concerns about her finding a club, the brunette had sought Haru''s advice on finding one that wouldn''t seem odd, but still wouldn''t have been one she''d chosen. The two had settled on the airsoft club. After all, Nariko liked showing off her combat cleverness, and was primarily a ranged combatant, while Sword Witch was more interested in personal improvement and favored melee combat.


    It was better than some of the alternatives they had considered. The school had both a gaming and larping club, as well as a battle card club, and either would have likely been twice broken by her joining. The first break at a girl joining their club, and the second when she inevitably beat them. The fencing club had already rejected her, somehow getting it in their heads she was some kind of monster.


    As a team sport, the brunette would rarely have to compete against her own fellow club members outside of drills. This would minimize the amount of clashing she could do with them, and she was fine as a team player, so they figured it would be both closer to a choice Nariko would make and less likely to tick others off.


    The brunette didn''t answer the question immediately, though. She silently gathered her thoughts about the last three weeks she''d been a member first. "I have trouble taking them seriously, honestly. They''re basically glorified air guns, and we''re running around playing soldier when it''s really more like live Team Deathmatch. If it were paintball, at least there''d be more sting to make it feel like there''s actual threat."


    Again, the blonde swatted her arm. "Riko! That''s why it''s not paintball! You want to get your club closed down fast, send a kid home to their parents covered in welts and their clothes permanently tie-dyed!"


    The other girl frowned. "It''s not that bad. Most of the pain even from taking that many shots would fade in a half hour. They probably wouldn''t even have broken any skin."


    Haru''s lower lip jutted out accusingly. "Don''t you tell me you believe even for a moment that''s how the parents would see it."


    The brunette just let her head hang and sighed in defeat. "I get it, I get it," she insisted as she raised her hands in surrender. "I''m just saying it''d be my preference."


    She got a distant look in her eyes as she turned away from the conversation for just a moment. The expression just made Haru step in front of her again.


    "I know that sparkle, Riko! You''re thinking you''d look so cool coming over a barricade in a billowing white shirt covered in paint splats and welts on your forearms. Well, stop it, because you wouldn''t!"


    The brunette gave her a sideways grin without turning fully back toward her. "Yes, I would."


    "Gah!" Haru''s twintailed locks trailed behind her as she spun away, throwing her hands to the sky. "I''m not talking about this anymore! You ... you masochist!"


    She chuckled and walked after her again before getting back to what Haru had actually asked about. "The people are good, though. Mostly. Friendly, silly, happy to have another person taking interest in their hobby."


    "Mostly?"


    Her face shifted to a sterner gaze. "Mostly. Most of them understand it''s just a game and they''re playing pretend. But the captain''s an arrogant, self-righteous ass."


    "Language, Riko," the blonde scolded like a pecking hen.


    But the brunette ignored the interruption. "He''s the one that pushes for all of the military garb and stomps around throwing orders like he thinks he''s the world''s greatest general. Absolutely loathes being questioned, but he''s spineless about it. When I wouldn''t actually drop and do push-ups on his command, he just grumbled and walked off. Been mad about it ever since, though."


    Haru''s eyebrows went high at that. "He actually tried to make you do push-ups?"


    "Yeah. I got the impression he''s why they have trouble recruiting, but his dad''s the teacher sponsoring the club, so nobody can get him out of the captain''s seat."


    "Oh no. Don''t tell me your captain is Chesil Wort?!"


    The brunette scoffed. "Heard of him, huh?"


    "I heard stories about him back in middle school," Haru informed her friend gravely. "He used his father''s clout to start up a HEMA club and pulled this same routine. He knew all there was to know about knightly fighting, and went around correcting anyone who joined and knew better.


    "By the time they went to competition, he''d ruined any chance they had by destroying their forms. All but one of them got completely wiped out."


    "Let me guess, the one that made it had ignored all of Chesil''s instructions."


    The blonde nodded, but smirked. "Reina was kicked from the club without notice by the next meeting."


    She glanced askance at Haru for a moment as she processed that, then threw her head back and laughed. "Of course it was Reina! Of course it was!"


    The blonde giggled, too. "As a first-year, too! Oh, his rage was legendary."


    "I can imagine," she nodded. "At least if he tries the same thing on me, I know I''ve got a friend on the council that wouldn''t be afraid of him."


    "Oh, absolutely," Haru gushed, excited for the gossip. "It was what got her into council activities in the first place! By the time he knew what hit him, she had three different orders getting the HEMA club shut down for everything from lack of decorum to abuse of members. Probably why he''s so spineless about pushing stuff now."


    The brunette smirked at the thought, but then got a thoughtful look as she tapped her chin. "Hmm, maybe instead of just holding it in my back pocket, then, I should push back, see if he''ll squirm ..."


    It was Haru''s time to scoff. "Really, now you''re too much like Riko! Don''t you think causing trouble just because you can is going to be the worst way possible to deal with him?"


    Her eyebrow raised as she realized her error, then lowered her face apologetically. After a moment, though, she was thoughtful again. "You''re right, of course. Oh, but there is a better way ... Tell me what you think ..."


    The girls chatted and brewed the framework of the plan the rest of the way home.

 Chapter Seventeen

    (17)


    Aside from size, Dakunaito''s estate wasn''t a grand affair. He held an inherent distaste for useless luxuries, preferring spartan, practical aesthetics. The grounds had training fields instead of blackthorn hedge mazes and athletic tracks instead of walking paths. Despite the outward elegance of the black manse he called home, its halls were hollow and unadorned.


    The facilities on his estate grounds could serve to train a small army, were they put to such a use. However, as he stared out the gothic window of his study, he knew without a doubt he was the only soul on the entire property.


    It hadn''t always been that way, but as he turned back to the room''s interior, he shoved that train of thought from his mind.


    The study was nearly such in name only. It had a simple ashstone desk and matching chair, as well as some shelves for keeping various books of record, but that was where the semblance ended.


    Weapons and shields of historical significance hung from the walls where other greater demons would have portraits or trophies. His very first set of armor stood preserved on a stand against the wall to the left of the door, above which was mounted his very first sword. Both were many sizes too small for him now.


    In the corner next to that was a hutch built from blackened ironwood, and he went over to it. Upon one of the shelves rested a box of black wood with bronze latches. Rather than the box, itself, it was its contents that his mind hadn''t been able to shake.


    With one thumb, he popped the latches and, with the other hand, he lifted the lid. The hinges didn''t so much as squeak in protest of the motion. With the hand that had lifted the latches, he reached in and removed the only object remaining inside.


    The demon turned the golden neck band over in his massive hands, marveling at how small and easily snappable a neck would have to be for it to fit around it.


    The third piece of the evangelium and hordestadt set crafted by the naga blacksmith Narhia had never been given to the changeling that had replaced Nariko Kelly.


    He hadn''t wanted her to get so comfortable in the role. So long as he hunted Thunder Witch, the changeling''s place in this world was temporary. The sword and pistol had been enough to ensure her safety, and that was where his responsibility ended.


    But fate had a way of mocking him. Instead of cowering behind the Witches, the changeling had taken up the moniker of Sword Witch, and had been growing rapidly ever since. Rather than being a hindrance, the lack of strength and protection, be it from a transformation or such an item as the collar, had only pushed her to grow in different, bizarre directions.


    Humans were horrible spellcasters. This was well known to every demon, to whom magic came as naturally as breathing. With no training, no resources and no cultural respect for spellcraft, even Witches, with their natural talent and massive mana pools, were no different.


    Each and every one of them relied on their transformation to do their casting for them. This meant that every spell they had was a unique reflection of themselves, but also couldn''t be accessed in their normal state.


    If a demon were so decrepit as to possess such a vulnerability, they would live their lives striving to ensure that secret never made it to another soul''s ears out of shame and fear of ridicule.


    Yet, it would seem, none of the above applied to Sword Witch. Incapable of transforming and possessing no knowledge of magic, she was nevertheless rapidly learning spells from those around her merely from witnessing them. Unquestionably, she was some sort of prodigy, but all Witches were. That, alone, was a meaningless statement.


    But this wasn''t something Thunder Witch could do. Moreover, the changeling hadn''t just copied any generic spell, but unique magic from the other Witches. She had also shown inhuman control over her own mana when channeling it into a mundane object.


    Yes, he''d watched her fight with that stupid needle of a training weapon. He was the one that had fed the darkness in their fellow student and placed the curse upon her. He was the one who raised the seal to keep the two Witches from dawdling further.


    He couldn''t say he had expected much from the tiny little student, but he''d sensed her deep lust for power and found himself curious what she would do with it. Her lack of will to see it through, however, had left him revolted. In the end, all of the power in the world couldn''t overcome her own great weakness.


    He hadn''t expected her to win, but if she''d at least made the effort to the very end, she might have had promise with training.


    And yet the changeling had only used the opportunity to grow further. She accurately assessed her opponent and used the girl to test herself. She was discovering skills that might have been basic for a demon her age, but only because of a lifetime of training and experience. She was piecing together much of the same through nothing but magical instinct and natural talent.


    ... Two things no human, nor even any Witch, possessed. Certainly, Witches possessed arcane talent of a sort, but not such precise control over their mana. They were slaves to their transformations.


    A part of him questioned if the changeling were actually human. The more he witnessed of her, the more he was certain that, if nothing else, she was not Thunder Witch. Some sort of eldritch clone, perhaps, built by whoever had stolen his quarry away from him.


    Whatever she was, however, she possessed keen instincts, a sense of priority in battle he found commendable, and an innate magical talent that would turn even a demon of the imperial house green with envy.


    He knew his prey well, and he was certain Thunder Witch only possessed one of those things. Certainly, her ... Analysis seemed to be along the same lines as the changeling''s instincts, but it was stunted by selfish immaturity and a poisonous sense of self-importance and infallibility.


    Perhaps the changeling, if she were, indeed, crafted as a decoy, had been created imperfectly. Not every single aspect of Thunder Witch''s nature, but only broad swaths of her strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps her creator lacked a fundamental knowledge of how Witches worked. Perhaps it had all come together to create this anomalous specimen, who broke all of the rules to be exceptional in far too many ways.


    Did any of that matter? Logically, it didn''t. Not to him, anyway. She belonged under a knife in the imperial laboratories, not wresting his attention away from his normal brooding.


    That was the answer he kept giving, yet the matter kept returning to his mind as if the topic were unsatisfied with his response.


    Neck guard still in hand, he left the study virtually on autopilot as he made his way toward his training room.


    The hallways may have been empty, but they were well lit in opposition to his largest complaint about the city. Even during the day, interior halls like this one never extinguished their emberstone lanterns. There were no shadows for an enemy to be lurking in, no large objects to conceal them, and the sudden appearance of either would be strikingly apparent.


    Dakunaito''s home was his castle, and a castle was meant to be a fortress. Within these walls, any foe would be hard pressed to threaten him. It was not that he feared a threat, but that, in the realm of demons, threats were everpresent. Lesser demons especially could afford no security such as what gave him peace of mind.


    That finally sent his mind away from the changeling, and as he entered the large room, lined with even more weapons and with a matted floor dotted with training equipment, his thoughts instead went to one demon in particular. The demon who made the choker he still held.


    The momentary thought that Narhia could be assaulted for no other reason than the whim of a more powerful being sent adrenaline surging inexplicably through Dakunaito''s veins. His free hand clenched into a crushing fist as darkness seethed around it and his eyes burned. Sudden anger he didn''t understand flared within him as his body longed to lash out at an enemy that did not exist.


    With effort, he suppressed the emotional outburst and reasserted cold rationality over his body.


    Any common demon needed only look at her to know they would be better off to find an easier target elsewhere. Even if it weren''t for the muscles honed like a blade from her own forge, her long tail would be capable of binding and crushing an opponent foolish enough to get within half a dozen meters of her. Just her gaze would cause a weak-willed attacker to freeze in their steps.


    And most importantly of all, she wasn''t his responsibility.


    The evangelium and hordestadt caught the light in his hand. Neither is the changeling, it seemed to say.


    He nearly pitched it across the room in frustration. Instead, he set it down and moved over to pull a blade from the wall. It wasn''t anything special, formed of moderate-quality materials and bearing no enchantment. It was a simple training blade. Perhaps he could clear his mind with some thorough exercise.


    But then again, he could go check on her. After all, what if he needed more work done, and something really had happened to her?


    His thumb, almost without him noticing, moved up above the guard to press against the flat of the blade just above it. What if the sword broke in his frustrations? It was a fragile thing, after all, compared to him. It wouldn''t take that much pressure ...


    Dakunaito bashed the pommel against the side of his helmet, causing a great clang that reverberated around the room. By the emperor''s horns, what was he thinking?! Was he seriously considering breaking one of his own weapons to make up an excuse to go see a woman?! Had he gone mad?! Had the blacksmith hexed him in some way?


    His mind flashed unbidden to her piercing gaze and what constituted his heart sped up half a beat.


    No, no, he would have noticed such a thing. It certainly would have been apparent before now.


    Perhaps it had simply been too long since he''d purged his baser needs into a common wench. Perhaps that was what he should be doing to clear his mind. Find some soft-fleshed trollop with nothing but air and giggles in her head and mounds the size of that head on her chest. Leave the training until he wasn''t entertaining such ludicrous notions.


    He had half inserted the blade back into its still mounted scabbard when his hand stopped all but on its own. He realized he felt completely unresponsive to the fantasy he''d conjured up. Such a soft, vapid thing may have been fine for a burst of relief and to then abandon, but it didn''t seem a solution, and his eyes were once again locked on the flat just above the guard ...


    It really wasn''t anything special, just a simple training blade ...


    * * *


    The cavern''s oppressive heat was almost cool next to the internal heat of his own humiliation that he made absolutely certain never made it to his face ... even if he had a face for it to show on. He had already done the despicable deed, already come here with the second scabbard in hand, already passed the weapon to the smith.


    It was too late to take any of it back, so he would stand there and force the world to stare him back. He would dare it to mock him against the threat of his real sword. He would do as he wished, for he was Dakunaito!


    ... Nevermind cool, the room felt briefly chilly when, fifteen seconds after examining the broken weapon, she held the hilt in her hand and silently put her thumb experimentally through the exact same motion he had used.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Narhia said nothing about it, however, and simply set the two parts of the broken weapon on a table beside its sheath, then turned back to him with her piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him. Again, he reminded himself it was only a trait of serpentkin. She wasn''t actually seeing straight into his soul.


    "This is not like you," she stated simply.


    He turned his whirling insides into anger as his eyes flashed threateningly. "You know so much of me, smith?"


    It was as if she hadn''t even noticed. "I know you take excellent care of your weapons."


    "I was under a great deal of stress," he said in reply, "and broke it before I took control of my own strength."


    She returned her gaze to the weapon and, he thought, to the break caused by his thumb. "No, I speak of its maintenance. It is not kept to the same quality as your primary blade."


    Without so much as a sound or motion, he cursed himself for speaking too readily, but he kept his voice steady and commanding. "I own many hundreds of weapons, of arms and armor. If I took the time to polish, sharpen and oil each one every day, nothing else would exist."


    "A collector''s dilemma," she noted as if it was a shortcoming she saw often. "Yet you are a greater demon. Can you not trust your servants or retainers to perform such tasks?"


    "I keep no such staff."


    Her piercing gaze came back to him. "Are you poor? Did your previous commission deplete you?"


    At that, his temper riled up good and genuine to her prods. "I choose to keep no staff, smith. I care not for the noise of such company."


    "Then you have too many weapons."


    He growled in frustration. Why had he wanted to see this damnable woman, again? "Will you fix the sword, smith, or not?"


    She turned back toward it again, this time examining it more thoroughly with several tools. After a couple minutes, she turned back to him again. "I will, but under a condition."


    Again, Dakunaito''s eyes flashed threateningly. "You believe you can dictate terms to a greater demon?"


    "If you will not hire staff to do it for you, you will consent to my services once a week, where I will go to your estate and perform essential maintenance on what I can for the day. You will then be left to your silence."


    He growled. What game was she playing at? Was this some scheme to extort him? To get access to his property?


    Narhia answered his growl as if it were a vocalized objection. "I will not work on weapons that will simply turn around and suffer other damage from neglect. There is too much for me to do to waste such time."


    His protests died. She did know what to say. "How much?"


    * * *


    Dakunaito stepped back onto the city''s dim streets and paused as he let his eyes adjust. His insides were conflicted over what had transpired. On the one hand, he had accomplished his goal and more. On the other, he had stooped low to do so, and he was fairly certain she knew.


    In either case, at least his collection would be better maintained, he reasoned as he started down the slate-paved street. He''d have to watch her work to make sure she was performing her tasks acceptably.


    "Master Dakunaito! Master Dakunaito!"


    Well, this was becoming a particularly regular occurrence. He turned to face the bright-eyed imp that was hurrying toward him. He was fairly certain this was a different one from before, as it had a torn length of cloth tied like a ribbon around one horn and wore a raggedy skirt.


    "Speak," he commanded.


    "Master Dakunaito," the childlike demon informed him as it skidded to a stop in front of him, "the Palace has requested your presence!"


    His eyes narrowed. "You do not look like an imperial messenger."


    "Oh, I''m not, that guy''s an idiot!" the imp told him with a grin. "He went completely the wrong direction looking for you, so I thought I''d take the initiative and let you know so you wouldn''t be late!"


    ... It stood there looking at him with the wide, stupid grin on its face like it was waiting for praise.


    "I''ll be going, then," was all he said and walked right past it.


    * * *


    The imperial messenger only caught up with him when he was reaching the gates of the palace courtyard. "M''lord!" the winded demon gasped, holding up a hand beseeching him to wait. "M''lord, a message for you from the palace!"


    His eyes burned as he narrowed them into piercing red dots at the panting figure. "You lost to an imp, messenger. I have already received your message. The palace will be informed of your performance."


    "Ah! Please, m''lord! I tried!" he urged as he went to follow the greater demon. "I went straight to your estate, only to find you were not there!"


    "You are bad at your job in general, then," Dakunaito noted. "I will include that in my report."


    The messenger was about to plead again, but Dakunaito suddenly stopped ahead of him. The lower servant paused to trace his line of sight to see the crowned prince leaning against the doorway ahead, grinning pointedly at the warrior.


    Bravery left the messenger and he bowed. "I ... I will trust your wisdom, m''lord, and seek to do better. In fact, I should return to my post right away, in case there is more for me to do."


    The swordsman only gave a terse, small nod, and the messenger practically fled the scene.


    "Help just isn''t what it used to be," Eirwen joked once Dakunaito continued his approach.


    "You should hire the imps," the swordsman quipped back sourly. "Not only are they faster than wherever you''re getting your messengers now, but they know the right direction to run off in."


    "I''ll bring it up with Mother," the prince said. "You know how busy Father is, after all."


    But then he put himself in front of the door just before the swordsman reached it. "But I wasn''t just talking about messengers, you know. Rumor has it you''ve been moping about your empty little shack even more than usual. And despite an uptick in your trips to Earth, the one protodemon you bound barely put up a fight."


    He smirked in a way he probably thought intimidating, but the swordsman just thought made him look like a posturing child. "Should we get an imp to replace you, too, Dakunaito?"


    The demon growled deeply, the sound reverberating inside his armor. Though he made no motion to draw his sword, his gauntlet gripped the sheath. "Watch your tone, boy. You are not the demon your father is, and you do not sit upon his throne just yet."


    As if it had never been there, the expression blew away from the young man''s face like a gust of fresh snow. He raised his hands in an innocent laugh, not that the swordsman was fooled. "Oh, I''m just teasing, Dakunaito! You know the Palace appreciates your long and storied service."


    Dakunaito simply gave another, shorter growl and shouldered past the youth and through the massive double doors.


    The grand main hall of the palace opened up before him, wide enough for tens of dretches to stand shoulder to shoulder and long enough for ten times that. At the far end and to the right, he knew, was the hall that led to the wing reserved for the emperor''s harem.


    The emperor was as generous with his women as he was to them. They lived in luxury, with their only duties to the empire to come when called, to serve who called, and to keep themselves pleasing in the meantime. He had been allowed to sample one of them once. She had been like fine tofu. Velvety, silken ... and entirely devoid of taste.


    Annoyingly, Eirwen followed on his heel. "You know, Dakunaito, I''ve been wondering, where in the world did the lovely, newly-minted Sword Witch get her golden weapons? They bear a striking semblance to demon weapons, don''t you think?"


    "I think a great deal about a great many things, Prince," he growled back without breaking stride. "Your cleverness is not one of them, and neither is my patience."


    "Well, perhaps I might impress you yet," the young man pursued. "You see, if they were demon weapons, their design could only be that of evangelium and hordestadt. Of course, I immediately queried the imperial craftsmen, and do you know what I found out?"


    "Presumably, not how to keep to yourself."


    "No one had made such a design. Of course, the palace is where all the most skilled craftsmen are, so the weapons had to come from here, no?"


    "And this is why I think little of your cleverness, boy," the knight corrected him irritably. "You jump to far too many conclusions."


    "How right you are, Dakunaito." The prince was disproportionately cheerful over the comment, a fact that put the dark knight on edge, though he kept it from showing. "I confess, it befuddled me for three whole days before I realized my mistake!"


    "Only three?"


    "Either I was wrong about them being demonic weapons, or they weren''t made in the palace. But no commoner could afford evangelium and hordestadt." He stepped up his pace to pull just a little ahead of the swordsman, that deceptively innocent smile on his face. "So I started looking into what nobles did the most business in the city. Witnesses have seen you there surprisingly often as of late, you know. Frequenting a weapons merchant, no less."


    "They have no evangelium and hordestadt."


    "Oh? Were you in the market?"


    "I''ve been considering an upgrade, but I don''t put enough stock in the palace craftsmen."


    "Yet you keep going back to this store that does not have it?"


    Finally, Dakunaito had enough. He turned and with one hand, yanked the boy off his feet by the neck. Eirwen had time only to give a surprised yelp, and any servants in sight took one look and disappeared through any nearest door or passageway like scattering cats.


    With his other hand, Dakunaito drew his sword out, a heavy thing for its size that seemed to be pressed from midnight-black steel. He held it up between the two of them, turning the boy''s head to force him to look at it.


    "If you want to examine my weapon more closely, Your Highness, you need only ask. While there are many tiers of alloys above it, you''ll find it cuts exceedingly well all the same. I needn''t jump straight to evangelium and hordestadt. Claretstone Iron, perhaps. Though I understand it needs to be bloodied to bind to its wielder."


    Eirwen held his hands submissively to either side of him as he hung from his own neck in the man''s massive grip. "Very sharp, Lord Dakunaito."


    The swordsman shoved the ice mage to the ground and sheathed his weapon, though he turned his burning, narrowed eyes back to the boy. "Be more careful of your tongue, boy. Go bandying about implications, and you''d best be prepared to state it plainly or to get that tongue cut out of your mouth."


    And Dakunaito turned from the boy. His footsteps on the stairs up to the imperial audience chamber shook the stonework with every step, but he didn''t permit himself to give the prince even a second glance.


    * * *


    The throne room of the imperial palace dominated the great majority of the second floor. Dakunaito knew that there were small rooms for various purposes around the outer edge of the floor, as well as stairs up to the actual living area for the imperial family, but one could easily forget such details when confronted with the sheer size of this single space. The Emperor could address a hundred demons in this room, all before him, and none feeling crowded.


    This, of course, left much space for one demon to cross even once he was up the stairs. Even Dakunaito''s footfalls didn''t so much as blemish the obsidian black tiles that spread out over the floor in every direction while golden pillars held the high marble ceilings aloft. These were symbolic things, with the marble the sky of heaven and the tiles the soot and ash from which demons first crawled. Some believed the pillars were bridges between the two, others that they represented demonic power reaching upward. Personally, he was of the opinion that they were very expensive supports for a too-heavy ceiling.


    Only two other people stood visible in the room, both flanking the most prominent feature of the entire room. There was no visible throne, but rather a great, ornate frame carved with figures depicting the great legends of demon history stood in resplendent evangelium and hordestadt, its sole purpose to bear the imperial sudare that concealed the throne from view. None were allowed to look directly upon the Demon Emperor as he held court, and only his immediate family were allowed to see him at any other time. None could doubt when the emperor was at court, however, as his mere presence filled the room with the sheer magnitude of his demonic aura.


    To the left of the curtains, on what would be the Emperor''s right hand, was Oribou, the wrinkled eunuch that wisely served as the emperor''s closest and most trusted advisor. Old Oribou was a palace staple, and none could recall a time when he wasn''t shuffling the halls on this errand or that. It was rumored that he was so old that he had actually been the emperor''s teacher when the mightiest demon in all the realms was but a boy. He rarely gave orders, but when he did, they bore the weight of the emperor''s will.


    On the other side stood the Empress. A woman famed for her beauty as much as for her power, it was said that in her youth, she strode across the battlefield as the very bodies of her foes shredded themselves at her command. Early middle age had filled her form out pleasantly, and her blue flesh had lost the lean, sleek form of a young huntress in favor of the soft plushness of a mother without any of the sagging of age.


    The Emperor was the only being to whom Dakunaito would bow, and once he crossed the throne room to the appropriate point, bow, he did, going down on one knee as his eyes went dark within his helmet - shut as if behind eyelids as he lowered his head to his liege. He said nothing, for it would have been disrespectful to act as if the one who sent for him did not know why he was there, or to imply the Emperor could not see that he had arrived.


    It was the empress, however, who spoke first. This was not uncommon. The Emperor rarely spoke from behind the curtain, preferring to speak with his advisor and his wife extensively before such a meeting, or motioning for one of them if he changed his mind on a matter. Simply put, all other demons were too far beneath him. It was a great honor or a terrible nightmare to make such an impression on him that the Emperor would address an individual directly.


    "Lord Dakunaito," she said, and her voice was a lovely thing, pleasant to the ears, if crisp and chilled, "long have you served your Emperor with distinction, and save for him, many consider you the mightiest demon of our age. Were there a full war with the mortal world, we have no doubt you would stand on its front line with honor and power, a force the humans would memorialize for a thousand years in their darkest tales."


    The old eunuch verbally stepped in, and from his throat came a desert air that parched his words into a dusty rasp. "We do not wage open war with the mortal world, however. Ancient pacts bind us and threaten us with annihilation should we not abide by them. We are only permitted to weight the scales against the realm, and then we will receive our reward."


    "The arrival of the Arbiter approaches quickly, Lord Dakunaito," the empress continued. "Our oracles say that the scales should already be tipping. Yet when they were measured, they remained in balance. If this is not corrected when the appointed time comes, our people will be damned to these hells for another eternity."


    The tales of an Arbiter were old myth as far as Dakunaito was concerned. Stories of a bloody messiah come to release them and grant the demons the whole of the mortal world if they only prepared it for his arrival first.


    He could see many more practical reasons for the demons'' patient strategy against Earth. A more active, conventional invasion could awaken more Witches, for one of the bigger ones. Demons were not a numerous species, and even if only one in every hundred thousand humans could become a Witch, the demons'' fighting forces would be drastically outnumbered and victory would forevermore become an impossibility. Targeted strikes against known threats was simply a wiser use of their limited resources.


    But that was irrelevant. He lived to serve the Emperor, and the failure of the scales to align with prophecy disturbed the great being. It was, therefore, his responsibility to correct that.


    His black hand tightened its grip on the sheath at his hip, which he had been holding out of the way to kneel without catching it, and he opened his coal-like eyes as he raised his head to the dividing screen.


    "Tell me what you would have me do, my liege."

 Chapter Eighteen

    (18)


    The brunette slapped the slips of paper onto the nail with one movement. "Cheese pizza for table three, two vanilla milkshakes and a chocolate malt for four, and table six wants another round of nachos."


    Natsumi''s father really wasn''t what you''d expect if you only knew his daughter. He wasn''t big and burly or loud and temperamental. Instead, he had a lean frame that was almost waifish for a man, and he kept his shoulderblade-length red hair out of his work with a man-tail and a baseball cap. He looked young for someone who had two nearly grown daughters, too. Realistically, he should be around forty, but those who didn''t know any better would probably pin him at under thirty.


    "Good work, Nariko," he praised. "Things should be pretty much settled down for the night. Why don''t you clean off the empty tables while I get these ready? Once these orders are out and Natsumi''s got the dishwasher loaded, you two can head on out. I can handle closing down the fountain shop for the night."


    "You got it, boss!" the brunette cheerfully replied before moving to grab the dish tray and headed back out to the tables.


    For the last week, she had been working at Red''s family''s restaurant as a favor. Normally, Homura''s father and her older sister Haya handled it more or less on their own, with Natsumi throwing in only on weekends or holidays when the work load was higher. However, with Haya away on a mission trip, the need for extra hands had come up.


    They weren''t really getting paid for it - for Natsumi, it was just a responsibility to help the family, and when no pay was offered to her, either, she didn''t feel right forcing it when being asked for a favor. Still, she was pretty sure she did better than minimum wage in the free snacks department. She''d had at least two strawberry malts every day for the last week, and there was always some new dish Homura''s dad was experimenting with that he wanted them to try.


    And then there was the excuse it gave her and Natsumi for training. Every night for the last week after they finished at the soda shop, they would go to the Homura dojo and spar. She had taken Reina''s criticism to heart; Nariko''s body was fit, but not trained for physical combat. It was a gymnast''s, not a warrior''s, build, ideal for jumping and running and diving and dodging. Thunder Witch fought her foes exclusively at a distance, and her body reflected that.


    ... She hoped Nariko wouldn''t mind a little more brawn when she got her body back.


    There was a second purpose to it, as well. Every time they sparred, she tried to put herself in Natsumi''s head, in her frame of mind, to better understand how the redhead thought. If mindset were truly key to learning the spells of others, then she had to first understand the type she needed to attune herself with. Why she chose Homura was obvious enough. For the most part, especially in battle, Flame Witch was a very straightforward person, which should make her easier to understand, and she already felt some kinship with her as a fellow martial artist.


    ... That, and she could see a lot of uses in being able to chuck fireballs.


    When the bell over the door rang, she turned on impulse, slipping the plate she''d just picked up into the bucket as she opened with her now-habitual greeting. "Welcome! Please take a seat and--"


    Normally, she would have finished with, and I''ll be right with you, but the face that came through the door took the words right out of her. As she stood there, struggling to get her thoughts moving again, only one word came to mind, leaving her mouth before she could consider it.


    "Anna ..."


    The tall, college age young woman grinning at her from the doorway was the spitting image of the portraits back home, and in her face, she could see Marcus and Misaki. She could see Kioshi. Without a doubt, she could even see Nariko.


    She had pressed Haru for as many details about this woman as she could possibly squeeze out of the blonde, but now, her mind couldn''t seem to come up with any of them.


    "Anna," the young woman repeated in a mocking tone, still grinning as she began closing the distance. The brunette had to force herself not to step back to maintain it. "Is that any way to greet your big sister? Now I know you''ve been up to something bad."


    She blinked. "... Bad?"


    "Yes, bad," Wakana Kelly replied with a laugh, then pointed at the high schooler. "That''s your, caught with the cookie jar, face. I know I haven''t seen you since the holidays, but I''m not going to forget that expression that quick."


    The brunette made a very conscious effort to get that expression off of her face even as the college student deliberately sat down at the table she was trying to clean off. "I was just surprised to see you back," she replied as her brain started moving again.


    Still, the young woman grinned. "Yes, Riko, surprise, that was the expression on your face, not existential horror."


    She made herself frown as she sent several glasses following after the plate. "I thought you couldn''t get away from campus."


    "Alright, fine, keep it to yourself a little longer," Anna shrugged. "I''ll find out eventually. You know I always do."


    That did worry her a bit. This was Nariko''s older sister. If she was making claims like this, it meant she was accustomed to outsmarting Analysis, even if she didn''t know it. There was also the little detail that this was one family member of Nariko''s she hadn''t had the opportunity to acclimatize herself with. Still, she didn''t let it show on her face as she tossed some spoons on top.


    "You can''t sit there, I''m in the middle of cleaning this table off. There''s a clean one up to the front if you want."


    The taller girl just plopped her hat off beside her. "Eh, I trust you to do a good job."


    Certain that she wasn''t moving just to be obnoxious, the brunette decided not to give her the pleasure of making a fuss over it, shrugged, and began wiping the table down. "And University?"


    "Half the people for my classes are out," Wakana shrugged. "Some trip for their stuff, half the colleges do it all at the same time. I didn''t need it, so I got a little vacation out of it."


    "Do Mom and Dad know you''re back?"


    "Stopped there first," was the reply. "That''s how I found out you were here, toiling away as a soda waitress!"


    "Haya''s one of those off on that trip," she explained. "That left Mr. Homura shorthanded."


    "Oh, that''s right, you''re friends with her little sister," the older girl nodded as she recalled. "Well, good on you, I always figured you''d act like it was beneath you."


    For that, she put on a hurt expression. "Oh, come on, you don''t think I''m that bad, do you?" She shifted the dishes under one arm as she stood up from bending over the table. "Kitchen''s about to close for the night, but what do you want to drink?"


    "Depends," Anna replied, thinking it over. "How much longer are you here for?"


    "We''re about to get off in a little bit," the brunette provided, "but we have to go cups."


    The college student seemed to think it over a little more. "Alright, I''ll take a pineapple soda."


    "Great, I''ll be right back." And the brunette turned away and headed back toward the kitchen, careful to keep her pace steady without rushing ahead or seeming too stiff.


    * * *


    Natsumi was tapping her foot when she finally got in with the dishes. "About time! I was starting to think I was going to have to come out and help! What happened, did we get another sudden influx of customers this late?"


    "Just one," the brunette replied as she put the tub of dishes next to the steel sink. "But I''ve got a problem."


    At that, the redhead looked concerned. "What kind of problem?"


    "It''s Anna."


    "Anna?" It took Natsumi a moment to place the name, then her eyes went wide. "Wait, Wakana?! What''s she doing here?"


    The other girl shrugged as she went over and pulled a clean glass out. "Apparently, ''tis the season for mission trips, and her classes are all but on hiatus."


    "Oh, that''s not good ..." Natsumi fretted as she began sorting the dirty dishes. "Nariko and Wakana were always close." She paused in her motions to consider her statement. "Well, not as close as Nariko and Haru, but closer than average for siblings. But Haru''s probably told you as much about that. The real problem is Nariko could never get away with anything with her around."


    "Yeah," the brunette confirmed as she filled the cup with ice, "Anna said as much, too."


    "Unprovoked?" Then Natsumi jolted as the other girl started filling the soda. "Wait, what are you doing?!"


    She jumped at the sudden exclamation and looked back at her with bewilderment. "I''m getting her drink. Y''know, my job?"


    "Pineapple?!"


    "It''s what she ordered."


    The redhead processed that for a fraction of a moment, then turned away and swore. "She''s already pegged you."


    She frowned and tilted her head. "Come again?"


    Natsumi wheeled back around and snatched the cup from her. "Wakana hates pineapple soda! If that''s what she asked for, it means she''s suspicious that you wouldn''t know! There''s only two ways her own sister wouldn''t know something like that about her," she reached up and sharply jabbed her index finger against the girl''s skull, causing her to flinch at the impact, "and as far as we know, you''re both of them!"


    The redhead hefted the cup and waved it around. "You cannot bring this to her! You have to get it right and guess what she really wants!"


    "And I''m betting you don''t know, either?"


    Natsumi had to sigh and shake her head. "I never served her. And if she ever ordered it in front of me, I wasn''t exactly memorizing it for the sake of breaking a fake Nariko out of a bind. Haya would have known in a heartbeat, but the whole reason you''re here is because she''s not."


    The brunette pondered that in turn. Had Haru ever told her what Anna''s favorite soda was? Had she ever thought to ask? She hadn''t imagined any situation where something like that would have come up. How could she get the drink right if she had no way of knowing? But wasn''t that the whole point of the trap?


    Then she stiffened as an idea struck her, and she reached out and took the glass back from Natsumi. "No. I don''t have to guess. I have a better idea."


    * * *


    Wakana stared down at the tall foam cup her little sister placed before her. "This isn''t a soda shop glass."


    "It''s a to-go cup, like I said," the brunette easily replied. "Nobody likes having to pour their drink into another cup, so I figured I''d save you the step!" When the older girl still stared at it without reaching for it, she leaned down next to her. "Well? Aren''t you going to try it? It''s not like you''re getting it for free, after all."


    Anna hesitated a moment longer, then clearly came to some sort of a decision. With a determined twist to her face, she took the cup up and took a deep pull from the straw ...


    ... and promptly spewed it back out.


    "What the hell, Riko?! It really is pineapple!"


    But the girl just grinned in reply. "But isn''t that what you ordered, Anna? Why would you order something that you didn''t want?"


    The college student stared at her younger sister for a long moment, but a charming bell from the kitchen kept her from having to come up with an answer there on the spot.


    "Order''s up," the brunette told her as she turned away. "Let me know if you need anything else!"


    Wakana grumbled over the beverage and habitually leaned down for another drink, only to be reminded of its contents and spit it out again.


    * * *


    "I can''t believe you''re sparring against Natsumi, Riko." Wakana''s statement as the two younger girls changed clothes in the dojo got grins out of both of them.


    "Well, I''m not going to be at home forever, right?" the brunette replied. "Sooner or later, I''ll move out, too. Maybe in less than three years. I don''t want to be helpless should the worst happen." She leaned toward the wooden wall and rapped her knuckles against it three times as if to punctuate it.


    "Well, sure, I get that," the older girl agreed, "but to think you''re able to go against Haya''s little sister, the red terror, herself?"


    "Hey, who are you calling a terror?!" the aforementioned terror protested. "Besides, Riko''s got a lot of potential. I''m glad she''s finally using it instead of skating by with it."


    The brunette had an urge to remind Natsumi that was the other Nariko who skated by, but for obvious reasons, in the current company, she held her tongue.


    Finally, the girls were ready, and with Wakana safely off to one side, the two squared off for their evening spar--


    "Oh, there''s people here?" a small voice asked in surprise before it could stop itself. All eyes turned to see Hisoka at the entrance to the sparring area, her duffel bag seeming too large next to her tiny frame. "Oh! It''s Riko and Master Natsumi! You two train together?!"


    "It''s a new arrangement," the brunette offered, waving the girl in. "Homura''s been helping me polish my skills."


    Hisoka''s eyes nearly looked like saucers. "You need to polish your skills?!"


    "There is room for improvement in everyone, Cho," Natsumi put in.


    "Well, yeah, but I''m kind of afraid of what improvement will mean for her," the girl commented.


    At that, the brunette cleared her throat. "Hisoka! You haven''t met my older sister, Wakana. She''s visiting from university."


    Hisoka almost literally jumped, as if she hadn''t noticed the third person in the room and she had appeared in a flash and a puff of smoke before the timid girl. "O-oh! Hello, Miss Wakana. I-I''m Cho. Hisoka Cho."


    Wakana chuckled at that and closed the distance, presenting her hand to shake the girl''s. "Well, hello, Cho Hisoka Cho. And please, any friend of my little sister can call me Anna."


    The girl let out an eep and jerked away, but kept herself from darting from the young woman. She barely set her fingertips into Wakana''s hand. "O-okay, Miss Anna ..."


    Wakana''s smile turned into a grin a moment before she pushed her hand in and gripped it fully. The grin was just a little tight on her face. "Hey, hey, what''s this Miss nonsense? I''m not even twenty, you know!"


    Hisoka clenched her face as if a vice grip had closed on her hand, even though it was plain the grip wasn''t that hard. "Aaah! You''re definitely Riko''s sister! Help!"


    The brunette gave a light burst of laughter at the scene before her. "Don''t mind her so much, Anna. It''s just the way Hisoka is. She''s a hard-working girl that respects others and just, ehhh," she held her thumb and forefinger a bit apart before her as she squinted to look between them, "has a bit of a confidence issue."


    At that, Natsumi put herself into the conversation to move things back on track. She had a spar to get to, after all. "Was there something you needed, Cho?"


    Again, the girl jumped as if ambushed. "Oh! Um, well, no, but, uh ..."


    The redhead sighed as if this were an all too common issue, and she held up her hand with all fingers and her thumb extended. "You''ve got five seconds, Cho."


    Perhaps it really was too common an issue, as the smaller girl didn''t seem to need to be told what would happen if she ran out of time. She spent the first second gathering her will, a second taking a deep breath, and impressively crammed what seemed a small essay into the last three.


    "Well, you see, I''ve been coming in at least once a week to practice on my own when no one''s looking because you said I could come over whenever, and usually nobody''s here, so I didn''t think there''d be any issue, but really, I was just going to practice my lessons from the regular class and didn''t expect to see so many people here," she blitzed out in a bullet spray of words.


    Silence filled the room for a minute afterward as everyone else''s brains caught up.


    It was Anna who broke it first. "Kid, you''re missing your calling as an auctioneer."


    "Or a diver," the brunette added. "The amount of air she can cram into those lungs could sustain her for half an hour."


    Hisoka''s face went red at the comments, but even though she trembled slightly and twisted and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, she stayed where she stood as if awaiting judgment.


    Natsumi was more focused on the subject of the matter, though. "Lemme guess, you don''t have the confidence to practice by yourself while we''re here?"


    The smaller girl didn''t answer, and instead pointedly looked at the ground to avoid eye contact.


    The redhead sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose for a minute. "Well, we''re not leaving until we get our training in, but if you''re willing to clean up and lock up when you''re done, I don''t mind if you do it after we leave. You''re pretty reliable, after all."


    That compliment gave Hisoka a boost that lifted her head a bit, but then she hesitated again. "So ... should I come back when you''re done?"


    The brunette and Natsumi glanced at each other for a moment, and the former nodded to the latter. Homura nodded back before returning her attention to Hisoka again. "Actually, Cho, I think you should stay and watch. Since Kelly isn''t actually a member of the dojo, you''re not likely to see a fighter like her in class, and there''s as many ways to fight as there are people. It''ll be good for you to see something different."


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "I''ve ..." Hisoka swallowed nervously before she tried the sentence again. "I''ve already seen Riko fight, though."


    "You''ve seen me fence," the brunette replied. "That''s a big difference from hand to hand." She looked away as she rubbed the side of her nose. "And I''m a lot more confident in my hand to hand than I am fencing, to be sure."


    "Wait, wait," Anna put in at that. "Fencing? Since when did you do fencing?"


    This time, all three of the high schoolers exchanged glances, but the college student didn''t seem inclined to drop the matter.


    "Uh, I don''t," the younger sister replied after a long moment. "That''s the joke. I watched the Fencing Club for a few sessions and got goaded into giving it a try without any training. Their captain mopped the floor with me."


    Hisoka nodded in confirmation, her tone full of admiration. "Even you''re no match for Prez."


    "Prez?" Wakana repeated.


    "The student council president," Natsumi provided. "Reina Tamashini."


    "Oh, I remember her!" Wakana proclaimed, slapping her hands together as the name rang a bell. "Long, black hair, super serious expression? You started hanging out with her when you were still in middle school, didn''t you? Always thought that was an odd match."


    At that, the brunette rubbed her temple in consideration. "We''re friends, but we''re not really that close, to be honest. We''ve just got some overlapping hobbies, that''s all. It''s actually kinda through her that we know Hisoka."


    "Kinda?" her older sister asked, arching an eyebrow.


    But the brunette shook her head. "It''s complicated. I was more trying to bring the conversation back around." She glanced back to the aforementioned girl. "Homura''s your teacher, yeah? Even if you don''t think there''s anything to learn, if she says you should watch, you should pay attention, because she thinks there is."


    Immediately, the girl was apologetic, bowing to Natsumi. "She''s right, I''m so sorry! I didn''t mean to be disrespectful!"


    Natsumi, in turn, gave a sigh, but then shook her head. "Don''t worry about it. Just take a seat with Wakana and make sure you pay attention, alright?"


    With that settled, the two squared off once more, and the brunette grinned. "Got an audience this time, Red. Sure hope you''re a graceful loser."


    "Ha!" Homura actually threw her head back with the force of the scoff. "You''re in for a surprise if you think I ever lose."


    * * *


    From the sidelines, Wakana watched with an unwavering eye as her sister began to trade blows with the redhead. Nariko definitely wasn''t Natsumi''s match in brute force, but her fighting style countered the Homura clan''s brutal, straightforward style well. Wakana wasn''t some competitive sports star who memorized all the names of the different martial arts in the world, but she was pretty sure Haya had once told her theirs was based in Chinese kung-fu. She didn''t know exactly what Nariko was using, but she wanted to say something like jujitsu.


    As the two teens sped up in their exchange of blows, Anna racked her brain for where in this town Riko could have picked up jujitsu. Had another gym opened up in competition with the Homuras while she was gone? It would be just like Riko to insist on studying something different from her friend just for the sake of being different. Still, there must have been a great amount of natural talent there. Her little sister didn''t fight like it was something she''d only been doing for a handful of months.


    Both of them acted like they took it so seriously, too. Not like they were trying to kill each other, necessarily, but they certainly weren''t pulling any punches for whoever they were planning on killing.


    Beside her, the mousy Hisoka watched the fight with rapt attention as if she were trying to burn every movement into her brain. This girl didn''t seem the type appropriate for any sort of combat, like she''d bolt out of the gym the first time someone shouted in the ring. But maybe that was why she was here. Maybe, like Riko, she was worried about not being able to defend herself.


    ... That was a depressing take on the state of the world ...


    To distract herself from that line of thought, she struck up conversation with the girl beside her. "So you seem pretty impressed with my little sister."


    Still, Cho didn''t look away, though she nodded. "She''s really strong."


    When no elaboration followed, Anna verbally nudged her along. "... In comparison to ... what, exactly? Other girls?"


    Hisoka frowned on that, but shook her head. "She''s surrounded by strong girls. They''re all really strong, actually. Her, Prez, Master Natsumi ... I''ve never seen Chiaki or Wakumi fight ... but they must be strong to keep up with them, right?"


    "Yeah, I guess that''d make sense," Wakana agreed hesitantly. She didn''t want to point out the Wakumi girl didn''t seem any stronger than Hisoka, and the blonde girl Riko had been hanging out with since grade school always seemed kind of an odd duck for their little improvised social circle, like she had more business being a cheerleader than in ... whatever circle had both a budding politician and a promising thug in it.


    ... Yeah, nevermind, Riko''s friends were weird. And apparently all liked to fight? Come to think of it, they did say Tamashini was captain of the fencing club.


    "Well, alright, then," she went back to the original point instead. "She''s really strong, compared to what, if not other girls?"


    "Um ..." This girl really was too vulnerable. With Hisoka focusing on the fight, she wasn''t thinking enough about the answers she gave. "... An oni, I guess?"


    At that, Wakana had to grin. "Riko, my little sister, is really strong compared to an oni?"


    Hisoka gasped as if realizing she''d said something she shouldn''t and finally looked away from the fight. "Um, I mean, not literally, oni aren''t real!"


    "Sure, they are," Anna replied, still grinning. "If they weren''t, we''d only have giri!"


    Oh, gosh, those vacant, dead eyes, that slackjawed mouth as she watched the younger girl''s brain crash and shut down right in front of her.  That was the absolutely delicious expression that made telling such jokes so addicting. It was far better than even them getting it and groaning. Anyone could tell a bad joke, was Wakana''s opinion, but dropping one at just the right time so you could watch their minds break from just your words alone took an artist''s touch.


    She relished the expression until a sudden, loud thump shocked the younger girl out of it, drawing both of their gazes back to the mat.


    "Cho!" Natsumi barked sharply. Nariko was on the ground, her arm twisted up and about while the redhead pinched her wrist. "What did she do wrong?"


    The girl literally began to quiver on the spot as she panicked, and every attempt to make coherent words leave her mouth only produced stuttering and blubbering. When Natsumi''s gaze got sharper, Wakana felt compelled to intercede.


    "Sorry, sorry, ''Sumi!" the older girl stepped in with a bright and at least slightly apologetic grin, waving her arms as if she were pulling an angry bull''s attention away from Hisoka. "It''s my fault! I deliberately distracted her! It''s completely my fault she didn''t see it!"


    Natsumi''s eyes narrowed on her, but more in annoyance than hostility. "She''s watching for her own benefit, Wakana. Please, if you can''t avoid being disruptive, you''ll make me ask you to leave."


    * * *


    After abundant apologies and promising she wouldn''t do it again, the two teenagers resumed their sparring. For Wakana''s part, she made only small talk with Hisoka for the rest of it, and only about the sparring.


    The girls were very nearly evenly matched, shockingly enough. She was surprised by how athletic her little sister was, she hadn''t really ever seen her as particularly sporty. They had both worked each other into a heavy, heaving sweat by the time the doors opened again and the smell of pizza came in.


    "Hey, am I on time?" Natsumi''s father came into the main room of the dojo carrying a short stack of pizza boxes, clearly the source of the aroma, and a drink carrier.


    "Dad!" the redhead greeted him as she rubbed her forehead with the back of her forearm.


    "I''m beginning to think the soda shoppe has live feed of this place," her brunette counterpart commented as she put down a water bottle.


    Mr. Homura laughed at that. "Sure, if by live feed, you mean my father. He''s the one that always seems to know what''s going on over here." He put on a higher-pitched, old man voice. "Make sure you bring three pizzas, Ichirou, you know you have extra company this time." The fake voice dropped. "You''d think he ran the soda shoppe, too."


    Wakana looked over in surprise at the boxes. "Wait, you mean ..."


    "Every day, after working hard for me even following a full day of school," Ichirou replied as he set the boxes and carrier on a table along one of the walls, "these two kids come out here and slog until they''re exhausted. Maybe not everything my father taught me stuck, but you''ve got to put back in what you put out, or your body can''t grow. So it''s just my little way of thanking them for their hard work."


    He opened the top box and the aroma multiplied immediately. "And I can''t give them free eats and ignore their company. That kind of reputation would be bad for business! Come on, now, all of you, get a slice while it''s hot."


    Nariko was still adjusting her gi as she approached alongside Natsumi. "Surely two would have been plenty, Mr. Homura. I know Red can put away a whole one on her own, but I can''t get through more than a few slices. That would leave plenty for everyone else."


    The redhead scoffed. "That''s just because you eat too little, Riko. Your body needs fuel, or you''ll never keep up."


    "Most of your fuel is carbs and oils in this case," she countered back.


    "Carbs are energy. Fatty oils are energy." Natsumi scooped up a slice right out of the box, the cheese stretching behind it. "And protein is protein."


    The other girl just stared at her as she began to inhale the slice, engulfing nearly half of it in the first bite, then shook her own head. "If you ever stop being a martial artist, Red, you''re gonna blow up like a blimp."


    "Yeah, well, go blow a horn," she bit back with impressive clarity for a mouth full of pizza. "I''ll be a martial artist for as long as I live."


    * * *


    As she and Wakana set out walking back home with full stomachs, and her with a cleansing shower, the brunette reflected on the sparring session. Mr. Homura wasn''t going to be needing their help for much longer. Should they continue these sparring sessions after that point? If she managed to get into Natsumi''s mindset enough to cast by then, would it be better to move on and diversify her skillset, or to stay and focus on refining her basics and training this body?


    As for the magic, she felt she was close. Natsumi was an on the tin sort of person, so understanding how she felt at any given point was pretty straight forward. The trick was in why she felt that way. She knew Natsumi was driven by strength, but she almost seemed like she was driven to flaunt it rather than seek it. The problem was figuring out if that was because she already had it and desired to stay on top, or was it one of the conflicting cognitive flaws all of the Witches seemed to have?


    Either way, it was hard to put herself in a mindset of being the strongest by default. She was almost Natsumi''s polar opposite, accustomed to being an underdog in most physical encounters and relying on quick thinking and ingenuity to get out of them. Still, in the heat of combat, when Natsumi was pushing her to her limits, she could almost feel that fire building up in her chest. Was that how Homura felt?


    She wanted to test it, to play with that fire, see what it led to, and if it had only been Hisoka there, she could have gotten away with it. With Wakana there, though, she had to restrain herself, and she was surprised how much that physically hurt. It was like the fire demanded to be called upon, or would burn her for refusing.


    She was in the middle of musing if that, too, was an essential part to Natsumi''s psyche when Wakana''s hands came gently down on her shoulders, surprising her slightly.


    "You seem pretty deep in thought, Riko," the older girl mused from behind her. "Or are you just that tired?"


    She smiled softly in appreciation of the gesture, but before she could respond, her forward movement jerked to a sudden stop as the hands suddenly snapped around into a headlock across her neck and under her arm.


    "Hey," she shouted as she began to flail. "Anna! What are you doing?!"


    The older girl''s voice was sharper and more demanding now. "Bold of you to let your guard down around me when I already told you that you can''t hide anything from me!"


    "What are you now, Char Aznable? Giddoff!"


    "Not until you tell me what you did with my little sister!"


    As her Aw Crap alarm sounded in her head, she reflexively flashed through a dozen different options to escape, from summoning a weapon to casting Shining Lance and using its localized area effect to blast her off. Though she obviously couldn''t recall it, she must have kept a knife concealed in her belt buckle in her previous life, as there was the impulse to pull it out and stab her attacker in the thigh.


    All of these were immediately discarded, of course. She didn''t want to actually cause Nariko''s sister serious harm, and credited it to an instinctive reaction to being under attack rather than a willingness to harm an innocent bystander. Well, that, and she wasn''t even wearing a belt to stash a knife in.


    "Oh-ho!" Anna crowed. "How many times did you just think of trying to kill me there, my dear little sister? Hmm? That''s not very in-character!"


    "Neither is attacking me from behind!" She turned and twisted in the grip, but the older girl''s superior leverage and hold kept her in complete control of the brunette''s position.


    "It''s your fault for underestimating me," Wakana answered back with a vicious grin. "You''re supposed to know Dad started teaching me military hand to hand the moment boys took an interest in me! And wherever you learned to fight didn''t give you the upper body strength I got from rock climbing! You were doomed the moment you let me touch you! Just give up already!"


    The brunette continued to pull, testing her bonds and the older girl''s control. She racked her brain as she tried to figure out some other way out of this, something to say, something to do.


    Meanwhile, after a pause, Wakana continued. "You almost had me fooled with that pineapple stunt, that was awfully clever to play it that way," she praised. "But when I realized Natsumi was in on it, it was obvious she must have filled you in on your mistake. And then you left that poor Hisoka girl with me while you and Natsumi played. All the defenses of a wet paper bag, that one."


    "Do you realize how much of a villain you sound like, monologuing like that?"


    But the grip tightened fiercely. "Do you think I can''t tell when you''re dodging a question, Riko?! Come on, now! Fess up! What''s really going on?"


    There was only one way to get her to let go without hurting her, the younger girl realized as she continued to pull. "Alright! Fine! I''m not Nariko! There! Is that what you wanted to hear?!"


    Instantly, the larger girl''s grip went slack, and the brunette wasted no time pulling away and spinning back to face her with two arm lengths between them.


    Wakana barely seemed to notice, just staring at her with a stunned expression. "... Wait," she finally found a couple words, "seriously?"


    The brunette didn''t immediately answer, instead taking the opportunity to stretch her limb and neck back out with a grimace.


    The other girl continued anyway after a little longer. "I just thought, shoot, I dunno, you had amnesia or something and were trying to hide it from me."


    At that, she paused in her stretching and arched an eyebrow at the older girl. Was her situation so ridiculous that that was actually a believable alternative? ... Yeah, it probably was. Too late now. "I mean, basically, that''s kinda the case ..."


    "... This isn''t funny, Riko!"


    Oh, great, Wakana was starting to break down. Maybe this wasn''t the best course of action just yet. Maybe she wasn''t ready to hear it. Instead, the brunette looked away as she rubbed the back of her head. "... Ehehe, sorry, I guess it really isn''t ..."


    But her reply was even louder and more dramatic. "Oh, gosh, it''s really true, isn''t it?!"


    "For crying out loud, would you just pick a side, already?!" the brunette finally snapped at her. "You''re giving me whiplash!"


    "Blow your whiplash! I want my sister!"


    "Fine, then it''s amnesia!"


    "And what''s the truth?!"


    "I''m not Nariko! And why are you yelling?!"


    "Why are YOU yelling?!"


    "BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!!!"


    "Oh." Wakana blinked, her volume suddenly dropping back to normal. "Well, you''re overreacting, a choke hold isn''t trying to kill you."


    "It''s literally called a choke hold, Anna. And you still attacked me! I''m allowed to be worked up about that!"


    The older girl floundered for a moment, but then sharply shook her head. "You''re derailing the issue again!" She pointed a finger sharply at her younger sister. "If you''re not Nariko, then who are you?!"


    At that, the brunette went silent, the tension leaving her face as she looked first to the ground, then off to the street beside them. "... I can''t say," she finally said after a long moment, but held up a hand when she heard Wakana inhale. "I do not mean I''m keeping it a secret," she clarified as she looked back at the older girl. "I mean I am literally, physically incapable of saying. I''ve even tried writing my name, and it comes out gibberish."


    "That ... that makes no sense, Riko," the older girl stressed.


    "I didn''t say it made sense," she countered. "But it is verifiable. I''ve had others watch me do it, and they say the motions are the same, but the gibberish is still different each time. Just random lines that look like letters but aren''t."


    "But how?" Anna tried. "How could you be somebody else that can''t say who they are?"


    At that, the brunette sighed and leaned her back against a lamp post before shrugging. "Dunno. My last fragment of memory was getting to ..." she fished for a descriptive word, but soon gave up, "... something. Then there was darkness, some other stuff that didn''t make sense, and then the alarm went off and I woke up on the first day of high school."


    "As Riko."


    "As Riko," the brunette confirmed with a small nod. Then her expression darkened as she toed at a loose stone. "... I even freaked out and punched Haru."


    Wakana''s eyes widened at that. "Nariko would never lay a hand on Haru."


    The Nariko in front of her sighed with a grand roll of her eyes. "So I have been informed, believe me. I''ve since come to understand why she wouldn''t, but I still did." Again, she looked away. "Haru''s forgiven me, but I don''t think she''ll ever forget that it happened."


    The older girl couldn''t help herself. She found herself stepping toward her sister like she could vanish into the ether, and reaching out toward her cheek like she might be a mirage. The brunette let her prod her cheek with her fingertip.


    "You can''t be someone else, Riko," Anna told her softly. "You''re too you. All of your tells are the same, all of your behaviors are the same, all of the things you obsess over and worry about, the way you think ... Riko, if you were anyone else, I''d know it."


    The smaller girl watched her for a moment, but then looked up to the sky as she crossed her arms behind her head. "Sure, one of the first things we considered was that I''d lost my mind. Spontaneous D.I.D. It''s the obvious rational assumption. Setting aside it would never develop in someone my age and that I lack every known or suspected cause, though, it doesn''t explain the physically impossible gibberish, or how I have a skillset Nariko never studied or was even exposed to."


    Wakana could only resume staring at her, so the younger girl continued. "If I really was someone else that found myself in her body, for me to be so similar, we figured it could only be because I was so similar. Like a tuning fork pitching at just the right frequency, Natsumi had suggested. But I''m just different enough to cause all of the quirks that make me stick out."


    "... So then, what," Anna tried, "you''re a ghost possessing my little sister?"


    "Possibly," she nodded. "I don''t remember dying, though, not unless somebody shot me in the back or something and I never knew it happened. And I have a strong feeling that''s not what happened." Now, however, she shook her head. "No, ghost or not, I have a strong feeling I was taken, not that I left."


    "Taken?" Anna repeated, and it was her turn to arch an eyebrow as her tone took on one of sarcasm. "Don''t suppose you were messing with some ancient cursed artifacts or something, were you?"


    That drew a short laugh from her. "That''s a bigger possibility than not. In fact, whatever I was after almost certainly played a role in whatever happened to me. Don''t know if it did it to me, itself, though, or if something else acted on me because of it."


    Wakana''s face went to a combination of disturbed and repulsed. "Riko. Seriously. Stop agreeing with my sarcasm. It''s freaky."


    An uncomfortable silence filled the air between them as they both churned to come up with something to replace it and both came up empty.


    "... Do Mom and Dad know?" Anna finally asked.


    "No!" The question reanimated the brunette, who shoved herself off of the lamp post as if to add more force to the refusal. "They can''t! They''ll just ship me off to a hospital or something. Nevermind what it''ll do to them emotionally, thinking their daughter has lost her mind."


    She sighed and turned away, taking a few more steps down the sidewalk before running out of steam again. "Besides, I can''t do anything if I''m locked up in a hospital, getting fed a diet of happy pills and therapy. There''s the very real possibility that I''m incredibly temporary. At any moment, I could vanish and Nariko''s consciousness would reassert itself. I''m very actively trying not to ruin her life so I can return it to her in one piece. Having her wake up with insanity on her permanent medical record seems counterproductive."


    Anna sighed, too, and crossed her arms as she shook her head. "I appreciate that you''re trying to protect her, but it doesn''t seem right that your entire circle of friends knows, but not our parents."


    "I tried to keep it from them, too," the brunette admitted, "but since I didn''t even know they existed, I didn''t do a very good job of it and it came out."


    "But you managed to fool the people that raised you?"


    The brunette could only shrug. "I knew they existed. I knew what parents generally expected. I''m sure I didn''t do a perfect job, but I kept it covered up long enough to learn." But then her expression turned crestfallen, her head hanging down again. "I ... They''re good people. I sound like a horrible manipulator, and I won''t lie and say that my own well-being isn''t also a motivating factor, but I don''t want to see them hurt ..."


    A flash of alarm lit up in Anna''s eyes as she stepped toward the figure that looked like her little sister. "You''re getting attached. You''re getting attached to Nariko''s family."


    The way the brunette''s face hardened before her eyes belonged on a grown woman, maybe even a woman older than Wakana. It certainly wasn''t an expression that belonged on a teenage girl, and for the first time, there was a moment where she didn''t recognize the eyes in that familiar face.


    "Don''t worry," the girl answered with grim seriousness, as if she were scolding herself as much as answering Wakana''s concern, "I don''t intend to let my feelings interfere with anything, if they even can. I''m fully aware I''m just a placeholder. If anything, understanding what she has here makes trying to keep it from her the last thing I want to do. This is her life, her friends, her family. I''m just an extra, watching over them until she gets back."


    And Wakana watched on as her little sister stonily buried the sentiments she had been close to admitting. It was like watching her bury someone alive, but the burier and the buried were the same person. She wanted to tell her to stop, she struggled to come up with something to say. But what could she say? No, it''s alright to get attached to things that aren''t yours?


    As she searched for anything to latch onto, something else occurred to her, something that had gotten lost in the shuffle. "... Wait, what does any of this have to do with onis?"


    At least the confusing question made the metaphorical shoveling stop. "Onis?"


    "Hisoka," Wakana noted, and didn''t miss the flash of recognition as her sister made a mental connection. When she didn''t share, however, the older girl continued. "She is both terrified and in awe of you for some reason, and both you and Natsumi were going at that sparring like you were training to fight for your lives. Or make somebody else fight for theirs."


    But the brunette frowned and looked away, going back to not answering.


    So her sister had two secrets going on. Anna took a step toward her. "Riko, are you involved in some sort of gang?"


    The girl pursed her lips thinly for a moment, but then let the tension out of her shoulders as she sighed. "No." She looked up and directly into Wakana''s eyes. "But please don''t ask any more than that. That one isn''t my secret to tell, it''s Nariko''s, and you''ll have to get it from her. All I can do is promise you that we aren''t doing anything illegal or that will interfere with school."


    But the older girl''s eyes only narrowed in response. "So it''s just something dangerous, then."


    "It''s not something anyone else can do, and it''s not something we can refuse in good conscience." The brunette''s eyes hardened again. "That''s all I can or will say on it. You want more, get it from Nariko. I''m just the bodyguard."


    Wakana sighed with a smirk on her lips. "Setting your foot down so openly now, you must really mean it. And if I figure it out, myself?"


    "Then that''s still between you and her," her little sister''s mouth replied. "I''m not going to keep you from it, it''s just not mine to tell."


    That left her with little to do but shake her head. "Fine, fair as anything, I suppose." Wakana walked up and threw an arm over the brunette''s shoulder, grinning at the way the shorter girl tensed at it. "C''mon, Sis, let''s get home. Some puzzles are meant to be solved another day."


    But as they began to walk, there was at least one more she thought she might be able to fit in. "Though I was wondering ..."


    "... Uh-oh ..."


    "... If the only time Cho''s seen you fight was when you were getting your clock cleaned by the fencing captain, why was she so sure you were stronger than an oni?"


    "Well ..." the girl drew out, "I may have beaten the entire rest of the club before she did it."


    "You may have?"


    "Yes. And may also be banned from ever applying to join because they''re convinced I''m a monster."


    Wakana threw her head back and the evening street was filled with the sound of her howling laughter.

 Chapter Nineteen

    (19)


    "Aren''t tests of courage more of a summer thing?"


    Wakana Kelly''s complaint came as she, her little sister, four other girls and one boy stood in front of an old Japanese style mansion that groaned in protest of the spring wind that had yet to quite forget the winter cold. The grounds, once a carefully manicured garden, were now completely overgrown and nearly unrecognizable as anything once cultivated by a human being. Vines scaled the building by hooking their tendrils into the wooden frame as lichen trailed more slowly behind them, lounging in the places the former loosened and opened up the fibers.


    "Nobody is making you come along," Natsumi replied with crossed arms.


    But Anna just raised her finger and spun it, causing the car keyring hanging from it to jingle. "You''re totally right, as the only one willing to drive you, I could have made you all walk."


    The redhead grit her teeth and stepped toward the college student. "I meant you don''t have to stay in the house! I was trying to be considerate if it bothered you!"


    Wakana just scoffed at the suggestion and jerked her head toward the boy. "Sorry, ''Sumi, but as the only adult here, I can''t leave you girls alone overnight with a guy. Everyone''s parents would take turns gutting me."


    "Hey, do you have to talk about me like I''m some sort of dangerous animal?" Jack protested at the older girl''s remarks before motioning with both arms to the ruins. "I''m the one that''s getting us in here!"


    As Natsumi shifted her attention to the poor boy, accusing him of making it all about him, Wakana noticed how closely Nariko had been watching the interaction between her and the redhead, and now the one between the latter and Jack. She knew the expression; Riko was studying what she was watching, analyzing it, deciphering it. It was in the eyes, that narrow focus they got that seemed like a laser beam.


    Where it didn''t match up was in the rest of the face. The rest of her expression was almost blank. Her little sister normally had a confident smirk when watching something like that, bordering on outright arrogance. Instead, aside from her eyes, the only thing was a slight frowning of the mouth that seemed more like focus as she committed things to memory.


    Then Nariko noticed her looking and glanced over to her. Wakana pointed to the corners of her own mouth and drew her lips up into a smile. The look of embarrassment on her little sister''s face as she awkwardly laughed at herself was genuine and very much back in line with how the girl normally behaved.


    It''d been several days, and she was still trying to wrap her head around the idea. Too much of the time, it was just Nariko, to the point she found herself forgetting it wasn''t. Not that she was entirely convinced. No imposter could be that accurate so often or so naturally. And yet there were things Nariko had known all her life that she suddenly, genuinely didn''t. And there were times like this that some behavior was just enough off to stick out like a sore thumb.


    But for now, Wakana didn''t let herself worry about it. She just reached over and ruffled her little sister''s hair.


    Natsumi''s tear-down of poor Jack was wrapping up with some of the other girls finally managing to calm her down, so Wakana took that opportunity to clap her hands twice to get their attention.


    "So are we going to spend the whole trip standing around out here? We''ve still gotta find a decent spot to set up and a car to unload! Let''s get to it, huh?"


    * * *


    The inside of the once-stately manor was completely different from the outside. Oh, it hardly looked new, but it was shockingly intact. Mats and cushions still lay waiting for derrieres, paintings and scrolls still hung from the walls, their occupants watching the children passing by underneath them as if it were a common appearance, and even the floor lacked meaningful clutter or debris.


    "It is good that the weather tonight is supposed to be clear," Reina commented as her eyes searched the wooden ceilings for points of penetrative light. "It will be difficult to tell where any holes are until it actually rains."


    "We should keep an eye out for spots on the floor," Nariko suggested instead. "Places where wood is discolored or raised, or where metal is tarnished or carpet is moldy. That''ll be where the holes are."


    Reina nodded in agreement and lowered her craning head. "Everyone, watch for spots like that when you''re picking out a place to lay out sleeping bags. Until we can confirm the state of the second floor, assume that will be on this one."


    The brunette chuckled at her tone. "When did this camp-out become a survey?"


    Meanwhile, Haru was uncharacteristically quiet, lurking around the outer edge of the group and hugging her arms to herself, occasionally reaching out to brush her fingertips over some feature of the room that drew her attention.


    Natsumi noticed and moved over to check on her. "Hey, you doing alright, Haru? You cold or something?"


    "Huh?" The blonde looked to her as if surprised at being addressed, having been well and truly off in her own little world. Once her mind caught up, though, she shook her head. "No, I''m fine. It''s just ..." She lifted her gaze to the top of the main staircase as if expecting to see someone there. "... This house ... it feels ... lonely, y''know?"


    The redhead hesitated for a moment. "... You mean like how it''s still full of stuff with no one to use it, right?"


    She opened her mouth to answer, and even inhaled a little, but after a pause of reconsideration, shut her mouth and simply shook her head.


    Natsumi took a step back before she could stop herself and gave an awkward laugh. "Ahah. Funny, Haru. Really funny. Buildings don''t have feelings. Save the ghost stories for when we''re ready to turn in, why don''t you?"


    Homura rallied herself quickly, however, and turned toward the group as a whole as she pumped her fist into the air. "Hey, why are we all just standing around in the living room, anyway, huh?!"


    "It''s the entrance hall," Ran quietly corrected her.


    "Who cares!" the redhead declared in reply. "Are we exploring this place, or what?!"


    * * *


    The girls spread out through the house as their curiosity dictated. Haru and Nariko drifted toward the upper floor under the pretense of "confirming its state," but really, with the ground floor still furnished, Haru wanted to see the bedrooms.


    The blonde led the way unerringly down the long hallways and past several other doors before sweeping into a single bedroom. It was obviously a child''s room, with an appropriately sized framed futon bed with neatly tucked sheets. A colorful hagoita paddle set and a hammer-like kendama were in a box on a shelf built into an alcove. The box shared the shelf with a set of pillar-like kokeshi dolls and a daruma with one eye blank. Charcoal drawings and several tako kites were displayed on the walls. In one corner of the room was a child-sized tea table, set out for two. An inanimate figure knelt on the far side of the table, momentarily mistaken by the girls as a person. The remarkably realistic-looking child was only a life-sized doll, however, still waiting with eternal patience for the return of her hostess.


    After the girls had a moment to take the room in, the brunette turned her attention to the one that had led her here with a smirk on her lips. "Been here before, have you?"


    "Nope!" the blonde giggled as she airplaned about the room, her previous melancholy replaced with the excitement of exploration. "Just went where it felt the strongest!"


    Again, another mention of the empath detecting something. "Haru," the brunette asked, her tone dropping to one more serious, "what, exactly, is it you''re feeling?"


    "Hmm ..." Haru stopped spinning about the room to consider the question, tapping a finger to her chin and looking up toward the ceiling as she did so. When she thought she had a good explanation, the finger pulled away to point upward as she smiled back at her friend.


    "Oh! You know how it feels when you''re the only one at the playground and you have all of the toys to yourself and at first it''s great because you can play as much as you want but then when you''re there for a long time you realize how much of it is meant for more than just you and you really start to miss having others to play with but no one comes and then how excited you are when another kid finally shows up and you can''t wait to share all of your favorite stuff with them?"


    The brunette stared at her and had time to give a long blink before she finally managed to formulate a reply. "... Uh ... not ... quite so specifically, but I get the gist."


    The blonde beamed even brighter and gave a chipper nod as she clasped her hands behind her. "It''s like that!" she simply concluded.


    "... Right."


    * * *


    Back on the ground floor, Natsumi had found the manor''s kitchen, and marveled at how well stocked it was. Pans still hung from hooks above a hardwood island, and every matching utensil still hung from the wall or could be found in the drawers.


    "Hey, Wakana," she called as the college student happened to enter the room. Meanwhile, the redhead was sticking her head into the oven. "Everything''s in such good condition, we could totally just cook in here!"


    "Absolutely not." The sternness of the older girl''s voice caused the redhead to pull out of the firebox and look toward her to see what was wrong. "Everything may look in good shape, but if we don''t know for certain, then we aren''t using any fireplaces inside the house. If the chimney''s blocked up or full of debris, or if the fire wall has broken down, you could set the whole building on fire or kill us with carbon monoxide."


    With a threat like that, Natsumi reflexively took a step away from the woodfire stove, even if it had nothing in it.


    Wakana was already stepping back into the hallway, though, to shout into the rest of the house. "Hey, Riko!"


    "Yeah?" her little sister''s voice called back from what sounded like somewhere on the second floor.


    "I''m in the kitchen! Come here, I''ve got something for you to do!"


    Sure enough, two sets of footfalls made their way across the second floor landing and down the staircase before she and Haru came into view. "What''s up," the brunette asked as they closed the last of the distance.


    Instead of getting right to what she wanted, the older girl frowned. "I thought I said to stay off the upper floors?"


    She watched Riko replay it in her mind right before her eyes. She could practically see the scene move across her face. Another notch for similarity. "No, Reina said to assume we''re sleeping on the first floor until we saw what shape the second floor was in. So that''s what we were doing, checking it out."


    "You''ll be happy to know it''s in as good a shape as this floor, sir!" Haru cheerfully filled her in with a sloppy salute.


    Wakana didn''t look happy. She looked thoughtfully sour. She turned back toward Homura after a moment. "What''s the boy''s name, again?"


    "Jack."


    Riko was already covering her ears. The other two weren''t quite quick enough to do so before she let loose with a, "JACK!"


    The boy came hurrying in as if he thought he were under attack. "Wh-what? Is something wrong?"


    "Maybe," the college girl said sternly. "Are you sure this place is abandoned?"


    "Oh!" At the revelation there wasn''t some sort of existential threat, the boy''s panic lessened, and he nodded. "Positive. Whole family up and vanished almost a century ago, and nobody''s lived here since."


    "And you know this, how?"


    "Uh, scuttlebutt, mostly," he admitted. "Oh, but some friends and I checked, this whole property doesn''t even have an address. Nothing for the tax man to follow, nothing for the realtor to sell. I don''t imagine you can get more abandoned than even the NTA not wanting anything to do with it."


    Anna nodded at that, but then motioned to the kitchen. "Then how do you explain what condition it''s all in? I could believe nobody''s been here for maybe ten years at a long stretch, but nearly ten times that?"


    At that, the boy had no good answer, reaching back and scratching his head nervously. "Um ... really tidy ghosts?"


    "Besides the state of things," Riko put in as she stepped forward, "I haven''t seen anything newer than the first half of last century. Toys, furniture, the designs all fit what Jack is saying. And if this place were actually being maintained as some sort of historical monument, it would definitely have been registered. Not to mention the garden wouldn''t have gone wild. It''s only the house that''s been preserved."


    "Right," Anna took in, letting the word lengthen as she said it.


    But her little sister just shrugged. "You''re the archaeologist, take a look for yourself. In the meantime, you said you had something for me to do?"


    Wakana scowled at her lippy little sister, but the girl remained unflappable, and finally, she surrendered with a sigh. "I''m going to grab Jack and Sumi to help unload the van. We need a cooking fire, safe, outside and without damaging any structures. Sound like something you can handle?"


    She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, no problem. I''ll get right on it."


    * * *


    All of the shuffling around as everyone was preparing the preparations so they would be prepared for the overnight stay had left Haru adrift. Riko had been given fire duty. Natsumi and Jack were unloading supplies. Reina had taken it upon herself to sort the drop-off. And Ran ...


    At that thought, the blonde looked around for a moment. Where was Ran?


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    It took a moment before the soft sound of clicking guided her to the staircase, where Ran sat about halfway up with a tablet and a pocket keyboard on a lap stand. Still, Haru hesitated to approach her. Sure, you didn''t interrupt Ran when she was focusing on something, that was just rule of thumb, but it was always a coin toss if the blonde followed that particular advice anyway.


    No, right now, Ran didn''t want to be approached. Instead, Haru took a few moments longer to watch her and sift through what she was seeing. Only then did she make her way up the stairs and plop down beside the bespectacled girl.


    "So," she joked, "we finally get you out of one house, and you spend it sitting in another. Don''t you even want to explore, Ran?"


    "... I don''t explore, Haru," the girl said quietly after her fingers came to a delayed stop.


    "Well, okay, how about we go outside and check out the garden? I''ll bet there''s lots of hidden paths to be found."


    "That would be exploring. And I don''t do outside, either. Or sleepovers. Or big groups of people."


    "Well, that doesn''t sound very fun," the blonde girl cheerfully tried again.


    "Maybe not to you, but none of what you described sounds very fun to me, either." She reached forward and pulled the tablet face-down against her lap. "But you know all of that, so why are you doing this?"


    This time, Haru let the cheerful facade slide down as she frowned sadly at the smaller girl. "Because you aren''t having any fun doing what you''re doing now, either."


    The gunmetal-haired girl sighed. "And I don''t expect that to change. I don''t like these outings, so I stay out of the way and do what I can to make it as bearable as possible."


    "Oh, Ran, you didn''t have to come if you dislike it so much. We wouldn''t have been upset."


    "I have my reasons."


    That answer caught Haru off guard, and she blinked a couple times as she processed it. "Like what?"


    "That."


    The glasses girl raised her hand and pointed just as Homura rounded the corner with a load of canned goods. They all went up in the air when the redhead stepped on a particularly noisy board and its screech sent her flailing and forgetting she''d been holding onto anything.


    Frankly, the resulting crash was louder than the board had been, with cans rolling across the wood in every direction and the martial artist rubbing her tailbone and grumbling. That was when Natsumi thought to realize someone might have seen that and looked around quickly, only to find the pair watching her from the stairs.


    Ran''s face was unmoved, what of it wasn''t trying to hide behind her tablet, but Haru gave an apologetic laugh and a small wave to her. This led to more grumbling as Natsumi set about fetching all of the cans again.


    Haru didn''t dare say a word until after the redhead left their sight again. "... Yeah, she''s going to need the help, isn''t she?"


    "Always does," Ran confirmed. "I''ve had to sit through so many Halloween movie marathons just because someone dared her." But then Ran turned on the blonde, staring with an uncharacteristically hard glint to her eyes.


    Haru was quick to wave her arms in surrender with a laugh. "Don''t worry, don''t worry! I can tell what''s important, too! I won''t say a word, I promise!"


    Only when she promised did that glint fade back to the bespectacled girl''s normal mousey expression that then returned to her tablet, and the quiet clicking began again soon after.


    The blonde didn''t immediately leave, however, instead allowing silence for a bit, then, "You''re a good friend, Ran. Let me know if you need anything for your stakeout, okay?"


    With suddenness, the girl''s typing stopped cold as her gaze broke from the screen again. "Grape juice."


    The mannerism didn''t throw Haru at all, however, who immediately jumped to her feet. "You got it! One grape juice coming up!"


    * * *


    "Is there anything I can do to help?"


    The brunette looked up from her hole in the ground with a doubting brow as she turned her attention to Jack. "Uh ..." she hesitated on how to phrase it. "Is there? You don''t exactly cross me as, ah, particularly good with fire."


    The boy flinched at that a bit as if it were a blow to his manhood, but rubbed the back of his head with a grimace. "Now that you mention it, no, not so much. But, uh, oh! You need firewood, right?"


    She grinned in bemusement at his reactions. "Yeah, actually, that would work great. Just remember, only dried wood, and nothing with three leaves."


    "Dry wood, no threes, got it!" And off he went.


    She just shook her head with a sigh as she dusted off her hands before moving off of sitting on her feet to stretch her legs out. She couldn''t help but wonder ...


    "Hey, sis," Wakana''s voice interrupted her musing from behind, "how''s the fire coming?"


    "Oh, hey," the brunette replied as she turned toward her and out of the way of the pit. "Almost done, actually. I figured we''d want a decently wide one for cooking and to sit around, so that took the longest part. I''m just about done packing the walls and then I''ll start kindling. I should be ready for a full, proper fire by the time Jack gets back with the wood."


    But Wakana''s attention was on the fire pit, itself, and she circled around the hole in the ground that was as wide across as two-thirds of her arm and would have come up to her elbow if she put her palm against its flat bottom. She carefully stepped over the second diagonal hole that fed air to the base of the main one through a fist-sized breach in the main wall.


    "Riko, you built a fire hole."


    The brunette looked confused at the way the older girl said that. "Yeah, seemed like a good idea. Pretty much all of the rock around here is part of the landscaping, and we can fill this back in when we''re done, so minimal impact. Plus, it minimizes smoke and hides a lot of the flame, so we''re less likely to attract unwanted attention. Oh!"


    She reached over and picked up the collapsible shovel from beside her, its matrioshka handle currently in a short, handheld configuration. "I, uh ... I don''t know if Nariko actually has a camping shovel, but I couldn''t find one, so I bought one of my own. Never liked not having one in a field bag. I''d say it paid off."


    Wakana didn''t seem interested in the shovel, though, as she crouched on the opposite side of the pit from her. "Sis, you don''t know how to build a fire hole."


    But the brunette easily shrugged this off. "Eh, if anyone asks, I''ll tell them I looked it up online before we left."


    The college student reached down and rapped her knuckles against the packed side wall. "Yeah, sure, and just happened to immediately be doing it your first time like you''ve been doing it for years."


    "It was a really good tutorial."


    Wakana sighed as she switched to her knees and bent over to help pack the walls down with her little sister. "Y''know, here I was, worried because I asked you to do the fire and didn''t stop to ask if you knew how."


    "Nariko doesn''t know how to make a fire hole," the brunette deduced, "but has plenty of experience making campfires?"


    The older girl nodded. "Dad always tries to take us camping every summer. Ten days, minimal gear and rations, make your own shelter, and he refuses to call it a camping trip."


    The brunette grinned. "Sounds more like wilderness survival training."


    Anna snapped and pointed at her as she shared her grin. "Got it in one. Of course, he''s not fooling anyone, he just wants to spend time with us. He even cheats with a food stash. But if any of us ever ended up lost out in the woods, every one of us would know exactly what to do." She chuckled. "Already saved my geology class team''s suburban asses when we went out for field experience last year. Half of them hadn''t ever even seen a tick before."


    "Did you thank Dad after you got back?"


    "Oh yeah. He told me to threaten them that he''d drag them along next time if they held me back."


    After the two girls shared a laugh at that, though, Wakana turned her attention more seriously to her little sister. "Riko ... why do you have such a ready answer for remaining hidden? It''s not for low-impact, a regular pit would have been just as disposable. It''s not for the ease of keeping the fire going, there''s not enough wind to threaten it. You picked a fire hole to hide it. Everything after that was excuses, including trying to distract me with your shovel. So why was concealment your first thought?"


    The brunette''s own motions on the hole slowed at that, and her expression went solemn. "Damn, you really are good at seeing through her ..."


    "Watch your language," Anna immediately scolded. "And I''ve had way more practice reading my little sister than you''ve had lying to me, so I suggest you answer the question without trying."


    The younger girl went silent at that, but to gather her thoughts rather than refusing to answer. "There wasn''t really a conscious reason for it to be my first thought. It probably grew from you worrying about this place not being abandoned, honestly. So the hole occurred to me, had plenty of other advantages, and away I went."


    "And you have plenty of experience in needing to stay hidden, is that it?"


    The brunette jutted her lower lip out. "Technically, I have none, and I couldn''t share any I might have been borrowing if I wanted to."


    Wakana ignored her little sister trying to play cute. "Were you a soldier? Like Dad? Had to keep hidden from the enemy?"


    But she shook her head. "No, not a soldier. Knew some, but only after they were out of the service. Military life wouldn''t have worked for me, anyway."


    Wakana gave a dramatic sigh at that. "Great, my little sister was a merc doing dirty jobs she couldn''t risk getting caught over. How many assassinations did you do?"


    "None," she replied flatly, and did her best to ignore Wakana trying to pry more out of her while making it look like teasing. "I wasn''t interested in blood on my hands."


    That gave the older girl a frown. "Okay, at this rate, I''m just going to assume whatever I think is ridiculous enough to be used as audacious sarcasm is actually what happened."


    The brunette shrugged. "Hey, I had an exciting life. Pity I can''t tell you about it."


    "Uh-huh. So what kind of merc doesn''t get blood on their hands?"


    She patted the side of the hole down with the back of the shovel a bit more. "I was more ... acquisition specialist than soldier."


    "Cat burglar," Anna intoned flatly. "You''re saying you were a cat burglar." After a moment of that percolating, however, she gasped. "Oh my gosh, you''re a cat burglar, you deal with soldiers, and you say you got hit by a cursed artifact. You''re literally claiming to be Indiana Jones!"


    She shrugged it off again, though not as easily this time. She wasn''t meeting Anna''s gaze like she''d suddenly gone bashful at the comparison. "Well ... I mean ... kinda ... on my good days, maybe ..."


    Wakana leaned in over the pit conspiratorially. "Uh-huh. And on your bad days?"


    There was some hesitation, but the brunette leaned in, as well, after looking either direction. "... Maybe a bit more Carmen Sandiego?"


    That earned another bark of laughter from the older girl as she pulled back. "Oh, gosh, now I really wish you could tell some tales!"


    * * *


    Wakana and Nariko did the cooking together. On one hand, Anna wanted to make up for having forgotten what her little sister may or may not know anymore. On the other hand, many hands made light work, and when she''d head back to campus, it would be months before she''d see any of her family again.


    They had settled on Campfire Curry, a recipe devised during their many trips with their father, and one that this seemed an excellent opportunity to make sure Riko knew if it should ever come up. Usually, the ingredients were sourced in the wilderness as a test of their abilities to gather edibles and hunt small game, but this time they were making do with store-bought ingredients. Wakana wasn''t much of a cook, herself, nor very big on the activity, to be honest, but this was a simple crockpot recipe, thrown into a cast-iron skillet that sat on a rack over the fire until done. So long as they remembered to stir occasionally, even she could make this dish.


    Of course, the cheating was in the rice and the curry block. Both always came from the rations. Considering everything else didn''t, however, it made those rations go a lot further. Y''know, if Marcus hadn''t kept a spare stash, anyway. He had always managed to slip some can of something or other in when they weren''t looking, too.


    As always, her little sister was a deft hand with a knife, and made short work of the onions, potatoes and raw vegetables, which went into the larger pot with the water and the brick. A dash of mushrooms for that wild taste went in, too, followed by meat of various sorts they''d seared in a cast iron pan. The rice was boiled in a second, smaller pot.


    It was at one point when they had the large pot open to stir the curry that Haru joined them, drifting in with her nose to the heavens like she''d ridden in on the aroma, itself.


    "Oh, dinner is smelling wonderful, you two!"


    Wakana chuckled at the compliment. "Eh, even I can manage something this simple. You get all of the exploration bug out of your system?"


    "Exploration is for later," the blonde said with startling conviction as she pointed at the ground beneath her feet. "This is the place I need to be!"


    "Hah!" the older girl scoffed. "I always figured Sumi was the foodie!"


    Riko gave the twintailed girl a different look, though. Amusement was there, sure, but she seemed to almost be waiting for a shoe to drop. "Haru has a knack for surprising you," she put in. "It keeps you on your toes."


    Whether this were a compliment or not, Chiaki beamed like it was. And then her expression slipped with the focus of her attention as it went off to one side of the clearing. Anna would have thought it a perfectly genuine change of focus if it weren''t accompanied by her little sister''s very blatant, And there''s the other shoe, expression.


    ... It suddenly hit her how little time she spent gauging the rest of the slapdash group. Maybe she should be paying more attention to what they weren''t telling her, too.


    "Ah, and we have company," Haru was saying, full of sunshine and rainbows as she approached the bushes and knelt down. Wakana only then noticed a girl hiding among the reeds. "You look hungry, was it the smell that attracted you, too?"


    The girl, surely no older than six or seven, had straight black hair and brown eyes. She was dressed casually, though aside from color and size, the clothes looked like some of what Nariko''s friends were wearing on the trip. Maybe they shopped at the same stores, Wakana guessed. Though did that mean the teenagers had childish tastes or the girl had mature ones? Not knowing the answer suddenly made the college student feel very old and out of touch, and she didn''t like it.


    Haru had startled the child, and for a moment, the girl looked like she was going to bolt. Something about the older blonde''s smile seemed to soothe the jumpy kid, though, and after a moment, she visibly calmed down and nodded.


    The twintailed girl clearly had no boundaries and promptly ushered the child forward out of the bushes with a hand on her back. "What do you say, Riko? Is it ready enough for a sample?"


    The brunette sighed and gave it another stir to test its thickness. "The rice isn''t done yet, and some of the vegetables might still be on the hard side, but I suppose it''s fine." She fished out an aluminum bowl from her pack nearby and dipped some into it, then held it out to the child with her best approximation of a reassuring smile. "Here, you can use my bowl."


    After a moment of encouragement from Haru, the child accepted the bowl and dipped the simple spoon with it into the food. Her expression practically trilled with the first bite, and more quickly followed.


    "Well," the younger Kelly observed with a smirk, "guess that means it''s good!"


    Wakana, for her part, waited a bit longer before saying anything. The bowl was half gone by the time she opened with, "You got a name, kid?"


    The girl paused in her inhaling of the food and seemed to hesitate to answer the large woman. Her skittishness returned as she lowered her head. "S-Seiko, miss."


    "Seiko," the college student repeated as she knelt down to the child''s level. "Did you come here with your parents?"


    The child jerked her head back and forth in the negative rather forcefully, but after a moment of silence, realized she should probably elaborate. "Oh, but they know I''m here!"


    "You have their permission?"


    The nod was equally as forceful, but the grin on Seiko''s face made it seem much more enthusiastic. "Yeah, I come here all the time!"


    At that, Wakana relaxed a bit. "So this place really is abandoned? No one owns it?"


    The girl got more sullen at that thought. "Yeah ... nobody ... It''s been empty for so long ..."


    Haru knelt down next to Seiko as she rubbed the girl''s back. "Well, at least for tonight, the place has us, right?"


    Seiko didn''t say anything to that, but her grin returned at the encouragement.


    "Finish your food before it gets cold," Riko spoke up, nodding toward the dish still in Seiko''s hands. "Then you can show Haru your favorite places around the property until the rest is ready."


    That really got the girl excited, but Haru dug her heels in just long enough to add in a request. "Riko! I want buried baked potatoes!"


    The brunette chuckled, but shook her head. "For breakfast maybe. You need coals from the fire for that, and there''s no way they''d be ready in time for dinner, anyway."


    "Breakfast then!" the blonde replied as she was led further away. "I''ll hold you to it!"


    * * *


    Wakana scraped out the last of the ash from the cast-iron pot as she held the edge in an oven mitt, as it was still quite hot from sitting in the fire. Once she finished, she set it aside to cool beside the pot for the rice.


    She looked up from her work toward the sounds of laughter and watched the girls as they played with Seiko, and she smiled. It was good to see even Riko joining in. It had taken a nudge, as her little sister had a knee-jerk, Too old for that, reaction at first. Once she got started, though, it seemed she had no trouble running around and goofing off like the kid she kept forgetting she still was.


    That thought made the smile on Anna''s face a little more melancholy, and she sighed. It would be wonderful if it were just that cliche part of growing up, her little sister trying to act older than she really was. It was depressing to remind herself that it was actually a symptom of Nariko not being her little sister at all.


    And then there was Seiko, the strange little girl that had happened to wander in at the same time they were there. The kid was a horrible liar, but Wakana hadn''t quite puzzled out where, exactly, the lies were. She believed the girl really did have permission from her parents to be playing around the ruins, but couldn''t shake that there was more to that than was being said.


    At least dinner had been a success, and there had been enough to go around for everyone. She''d initially questioned the sheer quantity her little sister seemed to have been preparing, but that Homura girl could eat. Wakana remembered Haya having quite the appetite, but she had nothing on her little red devil of a sister. In the end, though, there had been enough for everyone, even Seiko.


    ... Zero leftovers, though. It was gonna be the snack bag if she got munchies in the night.


    She sighed and dusted her knees off as she got to her feet. "Hey, Riko!" she called to her little sister. "You''d better get started on those potatoes if you''re serious about having them for breakfast! You''re gonna be running out of light soon!"


    Without thinking about anything but getting her own tasks done, Wakana reached down to grab for the pot again ... and immediately jerked her hand away with a hiss, shaking it out.


    * * *


    The group had spread out throughout the house to bed down for the night, one or two to a room. Jack had been restricted to the tatami room by Wakana''s decree. Technically, that was the best room in the house to sleep, given its design, but it also meant that after lights out, he was basically a prisoner.


    Haru had insisted that she and Riko sleep on the floor of the child''s room on the second story. There was plenty of room for both of their sleeping mats, though for some reason, the blonde seemed insistent on curling up right against the frame of the room''s futon.


    The brunette had made the mistake of asking if she thought she was trying to comfort Seiko, who had gone home for the night, and Haru had just grinned and held her finger up in front of her lips to indicate a secret.


    She decided she wasn''t overly fond of Haru being creepy, but if she was having fun, that was more important, and it wasn''t long before they settled down into a quiet, peaceful slumber.


    * * *


    The brunette stirred at the sensation of her shoulder being shaken.


    "Riko, wake up!"


    She opened her eyes with a groan and focused on the worried face of the blonde above her. "... Haru? What''s wrong?"


    "She''s scared, Riko!" The girl''s face was difficult to make out in the dark, but was obviously tensed.


    "Who?"


    "The house!"


    Before her sleep-addled mind could make sense of the words, a high-pitched scream of terror split the air from somewhere down the hall.

 Chapter Twenty

    (20)


    The girls rushed out of the bedroom and saw Wakana and Jack heading for the kitchen. Without asking if they were running toward the same thing, the brunette vaulted over the balcony to the ground floor to join them while Haru took the stairs. When Reina joined them a moment later, the possibilities of who had screamed slid lower still.


    All movement stopped when they rounded the corner to the wide open doorway to the kitchen.


    "What is that?!" Jack gasped and pointed at the sight before them.


    That was a dark-cloaked specter with a grinning, sun-bleached white skull for a face. It hung in the air of the high-ceilinged kitchen as it cackled at the curled-up form across the room from it, burying her head between her knees as her hands vice gripped her flaming red hair.


    Ran was on her knees next to her best friend, hands on Natsumi''s arm. Her eyes were trained on the spirit, her face lined with worry.


    Wakana''s jaw dropped at the sight. "... This place is actually haunted?"


    Her little sister, however, didn''t freeze. She charged forward, ignoring Wakana''s call to wait, and with one bound, got one foot onto the butcherblock island table in the middle of the room and pushed off to launch herself for the specter.


    In her mind, she focused on the sensation she associated with magic use, the same way she had done it with the fencing foil. Instead of into a weapon, however, she pushed it down into her leg, trying to make it focus into the hook of her ankle and foot.


    She twisted her body as she brought that appendage around for the specter''s midsection even as it continued to laugh.


    There was a ... sensation similar to striking water, and then her foot passed completely through the incorporeal being and her spin sent her to the floor behind him.


    ... The laughing stopped. The creature turned toward her with its jaw still agape, as if it was in disbelief. As it focused on her, soulfire ignited its eye sockets, and in a reverberating voice, it spoke.


    "... You dare ..."


    It brandished a bony hand, and in a flash of darkness, a farmer''s scythe appeared in its grip, already drawn back. Behind her, she heard Wakana scream for her.


    The weapon came down just as the brunette jumped clear and crashed into the tile, sending shrapnel flying. When the brunette landed, her ankle folded, and she found herself falling to one knee.


    She looked down at the ankle she now realized was numb. Darn, had she fried the muscles with her stunt? She shouldn''t have gambled like that!


    The brunette looked up when the specter pulled the scythe free of the floorboards. It drew back for another swing, this one diagonal, and she twisted to avoid it. With just a twist of its bony wrists, however, it quickly brought it back again, and she raised her forearms to block against the haft of the weapon below the blade.


    Unaugmented and unarmed, the blow sent the witch shooting back toward the exit, skipping off of the floor as she clipped her shoulder on it with a cry before the flight became a tumbling roll. Jack caught her at the doorway with a grunt as Haru and Wakana rushed in to either side.


    "Riko, are you okay?!"


    "The fuck?! Did you just try to kick a ghost?!"


    The specter cackled in a high-pitched, grating laugh at the sight before it, before dropping back into the reverberating bass to taunt them. "Yes! Feed me your fear! The warmth of your lives will fade and all shall remain here forever in the coldness of death!"


    "That guy talks too much," the downed girl muttered, ignoring the worry radiating from her sister and best friend. Instead, she shouted across to the far side of the room. "Hey, Red! How long are you going to sit there and cower from a demon, huh?!"


    She didn''t have to look beside her to guess the bewildered look on Wakana''s face over the declaration.


    "Demon?!" Natsumi repeated from the floor, and she raised her head to look at the specter, her face etched with fear. "No ... no demon .." she denied as she buried her head again.


    ... There had been a glassy look to her eyes, as if she didn''t really focus on anything in front of her.


    Her refusal to accept reality brought another bout of cackling from the specter. "Soon, all of you will cower in--"


    A white hot beam flashed across and slapped him in the face, cutting another monologue short.


    The Shining Lance had been launched from Riko''s raised palm, on the side she hadn''t hit when rolling.


    "What the fuck was that?!" Wakana demanded of her little sister.


    Again, Riko ignored her. "Haru, you''re up! You gotta pull Homura out of whatever funk she''s in!"


    After a moment of hesitation, the blonde girl bit her lip and nodded. "Right!" With that, she stood up and made a dash across the room.


    "I will not be insulted by--"


    The offended specter was interrupted again by another blast from the brunette, lifting her other arm enough to support the firing one, keeping it trained on the target.


    Reina knelt beside the downed girl in Haru''s place. "What makes you so sure it is a demon, Kelly?"


    "Because Jack''s here," she answered without really thinking about it. In truth, she''d been waiting for an attack ever since the classmate brought up the trip.


    The boy still supporting her balked at that a little. "M-me?! What do I have to do with it?"


    Reina didn''t seem to really follow that logic either, so she provided another reason. "Also, we already know there''s an actual spook, and Haru said it''s afraid of this thing. Ergo ipso facto whatevo, that''s not the ghost. And it wants us afraid. Maybe I''ve seen too many used car salesmen, but if anyone tries this hard to convince me of something, I assume they''re lying."


    The words had worked even Wakana out of her stun, but she shook her head. "Light shows aside, little sis, whatever lies he''s telling, he sure looks spooky to me."


    "Spooky, yes," the council president agreed, "but if it is a demon, we can fight it. Can you stand?"


    The brunette looked down at her ankle and willed it to move. It seemed functional enough, just numb, and even that was starting to fade to pins and needles. Pleased to see no lasting damage had been done, she nodded as she moved to get her feet under her. "Yeah, let''s do this."


    Across the room from them, the specter still ranted at the now three girls over there. "It does not matter what you do, little girl! You only prolong the inevitable! Soon all you know will be terror!"


    Haru had her eyes squeezed shut as she focused all of her attention on Natsumi. She was moving her lips over and over in some litany she was saying to herself, her head bobbing in time to it as she hugged the redhead to her. The more the specter taunted, the more frustrated she seemed, but finally, she tore her eyes open and glared at him as she shouted her litany out loud as if it were a retort. "HAPPY THOUGHTS!!!"


    The nonsensical reply caused a moment of silence to hang over the room as even the specter had to process that, and that was silence enough. Natsumi''s shoulders relaxed and the glaze dissipated a little from her eyes as her head lifted again from her knees.


    "There you go, Natsumi," she coached the girl, easing her on up, almost pulling her as much with her words as her limbs. "You''ll feel even better when you transform, won''t you?"


    The redhead nodded slowly first, then sniffed. "Yeah." It was a weak word, but she nodded again, and her eyes focused. "Yeah, I''m ready."


    As one, the five girls stood and did the same pose, with their arms diagonally across their torsos, then threw their hands toward the sky.


    "TRANSFORM!"


    Wakana and Jack had to bring their arms up to protect their night-adjusted eyes as a rainbow of light erupted before them, the girls'' individual shouts lost in the cacophony of one another. When the light faded, the five high schoolers stood before them changed, different yet recognizable.


    "Riko, what the heck?!"


    Wakana''s first words the moment she found her voice probably weren''t the best thought out, but she didn''t seem to notice as she stared slack-jawed at the gold and orange outfit her little sister had changed into.


    But the specter was not put off by the sight. It laughed at them again. "Little girls dressed up like princesses," it taunted first in its high voice, then dropped the tone low, the discomforting reverberation constant throughout. "Don''t you know you''re playing Marie Antoinette?!"


    It threw its head back and cackled, this time a shrill, echoing rattle that came at them like a tidal wave of sound. Every person in the room grabbed their ears and instinctively braced against it.


    When the brunette opened her eyes, she shut and opened them again just to confirm she had actually done so. Everything was pitch black. Oddly, some part of her noted she could still see her hand in front of her face.


    Was this some kind of attack? Some sort of magical darkness to obscure their senses? An uneasiness at the lack of sound or movement began to eat at her nerves as she held herself ready, senses peeled for anything.


    "Riko!"


    She turned to the side and there was Wakana, unable to stand, her eyes focused on nothing, a victim, perhaps, of the same darkness and without magic to push through. Still, the older girl seemed to know where she was and reached toward her.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Riko ..." she said again more softly, tears in the corners of her eyes. "Riko, run ..."


    The next instant, a scythe held in bony hands came down and cleaved the young woman in two, from the top of her head down to the ground like a sliced fruit.


    "WAKANA!!!" she screamed in anguish, but the sight faded away alongside the specter''s gloating chuckle.


    The darkness returned as she tried to orient herself. She wanted to run for Wakana''s body, but she restrained herself. She had to be ready for the next attack. If she lost track of where she was in the darkness, she''d be that less able to help anyone. Wakana couldn''t have survived that, she told herself. There was nothing to be done for her. Damn it, why hadn''t the demon used a seal?!


    "Riko, there you are!" This time, it was Haru, still transformed. Was that what allowed them to see? Could the brunette had seen more if she could actually transform into Thunder Witch instead of this cheap imitation?


    Flare Witch jogged toward her from her other side, making her turn around toward her, but she slowed as she got close. The blonde''s face turned to a frown as she tilted her head. "What happened? You''re crying!"


    "That thing got Wakana," she told her. "It used this darkness to--" Her eyes widened as she saw a glimmer behind the girl who had just started to put on a reassuring smile for her. "HARU, NO!"


    The scythe struck again, taking the still-smiling head right off the witch''s shoulders. The body collapsed as the twintailed melon rolled to her feet.


    The brunette was in shock. No. No, it was wrong. She moved for the head, but the darkness took them both again. She wasn''t watching her surroundings anymore. She wasn''t listening for the next strike. She fell to her knees as her brain tried to refuse everything that she had witnessed. This couldn''t be happening.


    The specter tittered at her shattered form. "One at a time," he crowed softly. "One at a time, I''ll send all of the princesses home ..."


    Slowly, the darkness seeped into her body, chilled her bones. It offered oblivion. All she had to do was accept that struggling was pointless, and it would send her to her sister and her best friend.


    ... Something about that caught her brain and jumpstarted her mind. Slowly, with trembling limbs, she forced herself to climb to her feet against the darkness''s pull. The positions. The positions were all wrong. And if the demon could kill them so easily, why did she need to surrender for it to do the deed?


    The fear and anguish didn''t leave her, but the more she thought about the problems, the harder her mind pumped.


    "Oh-ho?" the specter''s voice reached her again. "What''s the matter? You seem confused ..."


    "Haru was across the room. I was in the doorway. She was with Homura. Wakana ... Where was Wakana?"


    She stumbled now like she really was blind in the darkness as she tried to recall how she had already turned to orient herself.


    The specter''s skulled face appeared before her. "The fear has rattled your head loose," it told her as it hovered closer, more of it manifesting out of the darkness. Haru''s head was held in the crux of its arm, and it held it up next to its own. "Don''t worry, we''ll make sure it goes on straight!"


    It cackled at her again, but this time, she ignored it, focusing on the darkness, imagining the layout of the kitchen and hallway.


    "Wakana was ... to my right ... And you were ..."


    "Eh?"


    She started running again, away from the spirit holding her best friend''s head as a flash of gold came off of her wrist and formed into a sword of evangelium and hordestadt. She jumped, put her foot down, felt the elevated surface of the island she couldn''t see, and swung the beautiful blade down.


    The sword went flying from her hand, sailing end over end before it clattered to the ground out of reach behind her.


    The mansion''s kitchen was around her. Everyone was there, slumped to the ground in various states of collapse, trembling, shaking, what eyes she could see had tears in them.


    She was being held aloft by the specter''s bony limbs, its strength disproportionate to its appearance. It had her by the neck. She could feel the strain on her spine as the weight of her body dangled from it.


    "Your misbehavior is beginning to wear on my patience, little princess," the specter hissed at her, its every syllable sending a chill through her. Its eye sockets lit up with that swirling fire again as it peered into her face. "Fall into my gaze, little witch, and return to the depths of despair ..."


    She could feel the force of its gaze, pulling her in like a whirlpool. She could see the darkness gathering around her once again. The darkness where Haru, sweet Haru, was beheaded and used as a prop, and Wakana, the older sister she had just met so recently yet felt like she had known all her life, was bisected. The darkness where all of her other friends would join them.


    She willed her arms to rise against the pure, unnatural terror that gripped them. Sluggishly, jerkingly, they obeyed. She raised her hands to the only thing she could distinguish and gripped the sides of the specter''s skull. The abyss continued to pull and she struggled to keep her eyes even a little open. Her thumbs slipped into the empty sockets.


    The specter tittered like it tickled. "What do you think you are doing, little princess? Gouging out my eyes? How unladylike. Can''t you see I have none?"


    She grit her teeth as she held her focus in a mental vice grip. "I wasn''t ... after your eyes ..." And she threw that focus forward with all of her being, all of the emotional fury she could gather. "... you ... BASTAAAARD!"


    As she shouted, she again poured as much of her magic down her limbs and into the skull that was the center of existence. Lightning flashed down her limbs and into the specter, illuminating the room in electric blue as bolts soared off of it looking for a ground. Its shrill scream split the air and stirred the sleepers around it, but she paid them no mind, only continuing to focus pumping as much of her will into its skull for as long as she could.


    Lightning bounced out and rattled the hanging pots and pans. It leaped and ran across the window sills. It spun about the top of the wood stove and jumped back into her. Both her hands and its sockets started to smoke. The others in the room began to gasp and yelp as stray bolts struck near to them, but the witch and the ghost kept their death grips on one another.


    Finally, with a twisted yowl, the specter managed enough motor control to hurl her away from it and the lightning faded as she slid across the floor.


    Wakana was quick to snatch her up and pull her back into the perceived safety of the doorway. She grasped her little sister''s smoking hands in her own and squeezed them. "You have to stop doing that," she near-whispered to the groaning form in her arms.


    The other witches were gathering their senses as the wraith hung in the air, seemingly gasping to recover. It rallied itself too quickly, however, as darkness began to ripple out from it again.


    Behind the brunette, she noticed Jack set his jaw and move to get his foot under him.


    "ENOUGH."


    But the declaration wasn''t from Jack. Reina, no, Sacred Witch stood from where she had been driven down to one knee by the surprise attack before. Slowly, she began to step toward the specter, and the darkness parted for her.


    "I am ashamed that a parasite like you managed to catch me unaware," she told the suddenly silent spook. But when she was nearly to him, she willed her transformation away from her so that she stood before it in nothing but her pajamas, and still her expression didn''t waver.


    "But I do not fear you."


    Reina stared directly into those balefire eyes that had nearly sucked Sword Witch down into them. She stared right into them as if daring them to try taking her the same way.


    The specter did nothing but stare back.


    By degrees, the malaise of fear that laid like a fog over the room began to lift. The occupants stirred, then gradually found their feet. The terrible darkness retreated, leaving only the normal darkness illuminated by the moon outside and a camping lantern on the counter.


    The specter, they all slowly realized, suddenly didn''t seem scary at all.


    A moment later, it lost the staring contest as it broke away from Reina and bolted for the exit. The terror was in its own voice as it screamed out, "MASTER! SAVE ME!"


    "Everyone," Reina ordered without having to elaborate as her transformation reasserted itself in the blink of an eye, "now!"


    The specter ran headlong into a barrier that cut off its escape, and the next moment, the place it stood erupted in fire, plasma, laser and blacklight. Its scream this time barely lasted a few seconds.


    As the brilliant light show faded and the tension in the room relaxed, the brunette sighed and slumped to the floor. The gun that had appeared in her scorched hand disappeared in a flash of golden light.


    "No," Wakana ordered as she immediately jumped to her side to hold her up. "Stop that! You''ve fallen over way too many times already! You cut that out right now!"


    She gave a tired chuckle in reply. "Sorry, I just overdid it, is all."


    "Overdid it?!" Haru put in as she let her transformation release. "Riko, you were using lightning!"


    At that, Jack managed to fit a word in. "Uh ... is she ... not supposed to? I mean, besides the obvious part that she''s not supposed to. You know, the same part where ghosts aren''t supposed to exist."


    "It''s her element," Reina explained, still in her returned Sacred Witch form for the moment, "but she lost access to her magic with the memory issues."


    "Wait, hold up," the boy held his hands in front of him. "Kelly''s having memory issues?"


    Flame Witch, unsurprisingly, was irritable at being rendered nearly useless the entire fight as she came over, Shield Witch still just off to her side and behind her. "You will, too, as soon as Sada gets here."


    "Sada?" he repeated. "Miss Sada, the history teacher? What does she have to do with all this?"


    "Don''t worry about it right now," Sacred Witch told him as she came over and raised her hand toward his face, shadows flickering around her fingers. "Just rest your tired eyes, it''s been a long night ..."


    *     *     *


    "So he really doesn''t remember a thing?"


    Wakana was staring after the boy as Jack helped Natsumi load the van, while she stood off to the side, safely out of earshot, with her little sister and Miss Sada, who still looked young enough to have been a fellow student at her college, as much as she recalled the woman looking when she was in high school.


    The white-haired woman smiled as she looked to the college student with her striking red eyes. How she had never noticed their color bewildered her now. "Not a thing," she replied. "In fact, he had dreams of eating hanging bread off of a playground set."


    "Yeah, I don''t think I''m interested in putting to words just how creepy that is that you can just do that to him." But Anna shook her head and sighed. "So what dreams am I going to get?"


    Instead of answering, the teacher and Riko met eyes for a moment before the younger Kelly turned her attention back to her.


    "... That''s going to be up to you," Nariko told her, and Wakana understood she wasn''t talking about what kind of dream would be inserted.


    Wakana met her little sister''s gaze for a moment, then shook her head again, this time with a chuckle. "I guess I got my answers after all, huh?"


    "You did tell me you always do."


    She scoffed at that. "Still, can''t say I ever saw that one coming up. My kid sister''s a Pretty Cure! Whodathunkit! I guess that''s as good a reason for all that training as any ..."


    Sarasa put a hand gently on Wakana''s arm. "Obviously, our first concern is keeping it all secret, but I understand that knowing Miss Kelly is doing this could be difficult for you to cope with. That is worth thinking about, too." She gave a soft smile. "What do you think? Free climbing in the Himalayas sound like a good time to replace last night with?"


    The college girl looked like she was considering it for a minute, but shook her head a third time, this time in the negative. "No, it won''t accomplish anything. I''ll just end up asking all over again sooner or later." She glanced to Riko. "This is what you said was Nariko''s secret, yeah?"


    The brunette nodded.


    Wakana folded her hands behind her head and propped one foot back on its toes, shifting most of her weight to the other. "Well, then, you all make sure she knows when she comes back that if she''d rather I not know, I''ll agree to the mind wipe then, does that work?"


    Riko looked to Sada, who smiled.


    "That won''t be a problem, dear. There''s no time limit on the matter. Just keep it to yourself, and there won''t be any issue."


    The teacher said her goodbyes and went to check in with the other girls before leaving. Wakana waited a bit longer before glancing over to her little sister again.


    "So, lightning, huh? What''s it feel like?" She put both feet flat on the ground again as she made a fist before her. "And so help me, Riko, if you say shocking, I''mma pop ya."


    *     *     *


    As the people loaded into the van, Seiko stood next to where an aluminum-wrapped potato sat on a surviving piece of statuary, the metal scorched from resting directly on a bed of coals. She wasn''t dressed in the attire she had based on what the girls had been wearing, but a white kimono, crossed right over left.


    Natsumi, thinking the potato was extra, had tried to snatch it, only to be fended off by Nariko, the girl who almost felt halfway between the two worlds, herself. She had insisted that this was Seiko''s potato, and the girl would be back for it before long.


    Seiko didn''t really put much thought into the difference between the living and the dead, and frankly had trouble wrapping her head around such concepts, but Nariko had seemed more real to her than anybody she might have encountered in longer than she could remember. Soon after, the others had seemed more real, too, and it had been such great fun to have friends to play with again.


    They had even gotten rid of that scary monster.The damage to the house in the process didn''t bother her. It would mend, returning to just how she remembered it. It always did.


    The blonde girl, Haru, looked back and smiled at her, and she smiled back. She soon got the attention of the others and all of the Witches had soon turned back to wave at her. Her smile widened and she began animatedly waving back. She was sure the empath would tell them how grateful she was for everything, and how much she hoped they would come back to play again sometime.

 Chapter Twenty-One

    (21)


    Algebra was even more boring the second time around.


    Obviously, she couldn''t actually recall her previous trip through the school system or how boring it may or may not have been, but the impression on her mind was crystal clear.


    All of the knowledge the class had to offer springing readily to mind didn''t help. Every equation the haughty old man scratched onto the dry board with agonizing slowness spelled itself out for her long before he even started his winding lecture on the operational order for solving it.


    Drowsiness threatened to utterly consume her whenever she tried to force herself to listen to the teacher''s monotonous droning for longer than ninety seconds, so she decided to let her mind wander instead. Naturally, it drifted quickly to the far more exciting pastime of being a witch.


    She had finally managed to use her own magic instead of merely copying someone else''s. Well, sort of. It was more accurate to say she had nearly fried her own ankle trying to treat it like a sword in the heat of battle, and that she had managed a reckless and uncontrolled discharge of raw magic that just happened to be in the form of lightning because that was her element. Neither had remotely been an actual spell.


    On the other hand, it confirmed that she didn''t actually need a spell to manifest her magic. It was a tantalizing doorway that suggested the possibility of shaping her magic to her own desires instead of being locked to predetermined forms like every other witch. If she could just figure out how to call upon it without hurting herself, and how to control its form, then the limit might literally only be her own imagination.


    As she reflected on the battles she had already been a part of and imagined what forms of magic might have been most effective in the different situations, she daydreamed of everything from electrically-charged martial strikes to thunder lassos to soaring through the air as Flame Witch did, but riding the lightning instead of arcane rocket engines.


    Her mind didn''t stop there, either. With command of the fundamental electromagnetic forces, the things she could duplicate and pioneer were potentially insane.


    She could wear a satchel of ball bearings or small coins and manipulate them as if with telekinesis before firing them like a railgun. She could ignite plasma and do the same with it, or wield it like a lightsaber. The catastrophic force of a particle acceleration cannon was within reach.


    She might be able to stimulate her own muscles and neural pathways to greatly increase her strength and reaction time. Doing so directly to her mind to achieve bullet time at will was theoretically possible, as well, but considering what getting it wrong had done to her ankle, or more disturbingly, the fencing foil, that was definitely something to not even consider doing until she had a much greater understanding of the process.


    Depending on how countless things may or may not work, she might even be able to heal wounds by electrically stimulating cells into regenerating more rapidly. She felt that might have been truly getting into the outrageous there, considering how little that actually worked that way. Cauterizing the wound and streamlining the body''s response to the injury through pain control, vessel constriction and the like was a much more realistic treatment method with her powers.


    Frankenstein was a classic, but Mary Shelley had clearly been no biologist.


    But what did reality matter? The fun was in the imagining. No doubt it was far from the only thing she was imagining that would turn out to be far less feasible in practice. And it distracted her mind from the dull boredom of--


    "MISS KELLY!"


    Her head had drifted far away from the front of the classroom and instead toward the windows across the room, and the barking reprimand snapped her from her musings as quickly as she jerked her gaze back to the instructor, Mr. Sato.


    She described him as old, and he was, but not so much as the word alone made it sound. His hair was gray and thinning, but his shoulders were still broad by the standards of a scholar, he still stood up straight, and his face hadn''t collapsed into the exhausted frown of late old age.


    She''d place the boring, bespectacled, balding man in his late fifties.


    "Have the windows taught you how to solve the equation?" he demanded of her as snobbishly as one could expect.


    Her eyes flicked to the current equation on the board that he had been in the process of explaining. She was surprised he was still on that one, it seemed like it''d been over twenty minutes.


    "X is thirteen, Y is seven," the brunette promptly replied with the answer she''d worked out when he first wrote it up.


    The teacher stood there for a moment, then cleared his throat as he adjusted his glasses. "Yes, well, just having the answer is all well and good, but the study of algebra is about the process. If you cannot show your work, then the answer is worthless."


    He motioned back toward the board with his marker. "The purpose of this class is not to have you find the answer, but to learn how to solve the problem, step by operational step. This is something you would know if you had been paying attention instead of daydreaming. I want you to try again, and since you have been so disruptive to this class, if you can''t list every step and define the operation, you will be staying after class until you can."


    She set her jaw, attempting to bottle her annoyance. She was the one disrupting class?! He was the one taking time out of his holy math sermon because he couldn''t tolerate anything less than a one hundred percent captive audience. Well, fine, then, he''d have his operations.


    She stood up and beside her desk as she took a deep breath, and on the spot, verbally walked through the equation again from the start, listing every change and what mathematical law it used. When she finally concluded that first X was, indeed, thirteen, and then went back and solved for Y to show that it was seven, she restated the variables and returned to her seat without so much as an extra word.


    Mr. Sato had wanted to embarrass her, but had now failed twice. He huffed as he tried to find something to say, and settled on putting a condescendingly sweet tone to his voice. "I''m sorry, Miss Kelly. I wasn''t aware we had an algebraic savant in the room. Do tell me, my attempts to educate your lesser peers aren''t boring you, I hope?"


    It was a trap. It was blatantly and obviously a trap. She nearly went automatically along with the civil answer of apologetically saying that wasn''t the case, she had merely been distracted and was not exceptional at all. As her display should have hopefully made obvious, she had clearly been hanging on his every word, his important wisdom essential to her progression in society.


    She almost did it. Almost. If for no other reason than to avoid implying agreement with the premise, the snare itself, that all of her more obedient and better behaved classmates were inferior to her.


    In front of her, Ran noticed the hesitation and glanced timidly back toward her, only to slide lower into her chair and bend closer to her book, making herself as small as possible to avoid what she knew was coming.


    The brunette set her jaw again, then took a deep breath and stood again from her chair. "I apologize, Mr. Sato, but yes, I find your teaching style very boring."


    The room seemed to come alive as her unexpected nerve roused the students from the stupor they had, themselves, adopted for the class. The math teacher noticed, and his face grew redder than it had already been getting. He might have tried to claim that her attitude was again disruptive and they had actually been listening attentively to him, but he knew better. None of them had even noticed anything until that moment, so zombified had they been by his performance.


    His thin little fingers writhed like tiny snakes at the end of his hands before he folded them behind his back. "I bow to your superiority, Miss Kelly," he replied sarcastically. "By all means, what should I change?"


    It was another attempt to get her to back down. If she answered, she would again be passively permitting his assertion that she thought herself even greater than her instructor, a terrible taboo. Rather than being effective, however, her eyes hardened. He wasn''t intimidating her. He was pissing her off.


    "You like the sound of your own voice too much," she opened with cannons, drawing gasps from the other students, and Ran tried to shrink even more in her own seat. "You refuse to even give us our assignments until the very end so that we can''t be doing them instead of listening to you. I was disturbing no one, and yet you couldn''t bear even the thought that every last one of us wasn''t hanging on your every word. That speaks to an arrogance unbecoming of your station as our mentor and teacher. It tells us that the attention you get is more important to you than whether or not we actually learn anything."


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The old man''s face was getting redder and redder, beginning to resemble a swollen tomato, but she continued. "Your explanations drone on for far longer than they are useful. You could have covered the entire content of the lesson in the time you''ve spent on this one equation, let alone the others before it. After that, you could have given our assignment to us and allowed us to work on it. You claim it is to make sure we understand the material, but you could just as easily let us come to you with any questions we still didn''t understand after the lesson. If too many people are asking the same question, then you elaborate further. And finally, you should stop trying to intimidate your students into hiding from you just because you tried to humiliate them."


    Finally, she put her hand on her textbook beside her. "I was content to just sit here and take the class and do my homework and turn it in. You made this an issue, Mr. Sato. And you made it about yourself."


    It perhaps wasn''t entirely a fair strip-down. The argument could be made that students owed their teachers the respect of listening to them, that he had been trying to remind her how such behavior disrespected their elders. The argument could be made that the time for the class was, in fact, for lectures and not to be a study hall. The argument could be made that, in continuing to answer instead of conform, she was, in fact, being the disruptive one to the class and should have apologized for being distracted and just gotten on with the class, and none of the further offense would have happened.


    She had no patience for any of it. If he hadn''t tried to entrap her, she wouldn''t have done it, but as far as she was concerned, it just proved her words true. Any claim to the contrary would be hiding behind the aggrandizement of his actions.


    He stood there in the silence that filled the classroom as, for perhaps the first time that day since the beginning of class, he truly had the attention of every student in the room, all raptly awaiting his response.


    The bell sounded, and his shoulders seemed to slump. Almost autonomously, he turned and began writing the assignment on the board as he did every day at this time. When he set the marker down, he turned back and spoke again, maintaining the condescendingly sweet tone.


    "I''m glad you are such a master of mathematics, Miss Kelly. It''s a good thing that you''ll no doubt get a perfect score on your own homework, because, since you have made yourself such a disruption that they were unable to receive the whole lecture, every point one of your classmates misses will be deducted from your own score. Maybe that will teach you to pay attention in my class, and you''ll even learn a little respect."


    * * *


    "You shouldn''t have done it."


    To Ran''s credit, the wallflower had held her tongue for another hour until classes were over and they were in the hallways on their way to the club room. She also didn''t need to explain what she was talking about.


    "He''s the one that did it, Wakumi," she answered without hesitation. "Yeah, I got distracted, heck, I distracted myself just to stay conscious. But when he called on me, I answered the question, and then again with the operations. But he didn''t want me to answer the question. He wanted me to screw up so he could humiliate me for not hanging on his every divine word."


    The bespectacled girl cowered behind her bag a bit at that, but didn''t surrender ground. For a moment, the brunette was reminded of Hisoka, who would have apologetically surrendered immediately at such a reply.


    "You didn''t recognize that was his goal at first," the gunmetal girl replied, "but when you figured it out, you should have played dumb and just let him have his moment."


    "And what," the brunette replied, "just let him keep holding me for ransom?"


    "He is our teacher and an adult, which, in case you have forgotten, you are not." Oh, yeah, there was steel there, though one could be forgiven for missing it with how quietly it was delivered. "He is entitled to your respect regardless of how you feel about his teaching methods."


    "And he was going to continue to have it if he''d just let me keep my head down and plug away at it," she replied. "When he tried to use his position to manipulate me, though--"


    "He wasn''t manipulating you!"


    The sudden interruption from the normally passive girl cut her off more effectively with its fervor than it did with its still low volume. Ran had turned toward her with the declaration and couldn''t have pinned her to the wall any more securely with a barrier spell despite being nowhere near touching her. There was just the sudden presence of the girl.


    If she had been Natsumi, the equivalent would have been slamming her fist into the wall beside the brunette''s head and nigh-shouting, Shut up and listen, you little fuck!


    The outburst seemed to catch Ran off guard, too, and she almost withdrew again, but there once more was that steel, and she braced herself to continue. "He was manipulating Kelly. Nariko Kelly. Thunder Witch. The girl you''re pretending to be. Your responses are seen as her responses. Your actions may not have any consequences for you thirty seconds from any moment in time, but they''ll have consequences for Nariko for the rest of her life! You cannot go around acting like that life is yours to do with as you please! She''s the one that is going to pay for it!"


    Ran took a moment to breathe and calm herself, physically shaking a bit with how she got herself worked up, then continued in a more controlled tone. "I don''t care if it hurts your feelings. I don''t care about your pride. I only care about one thing: My friends. If you hurt Kelly with your reckless posturing, you will never be forgiven.


    "Now, you are probably going to fail today''s homework, there are more than enough Bs and Cs in class to bring your score below fifty percent. But you need to ace it, anyway, or you''ll only make it worse. And first thing tomorrow, you go to the teacher''s lounge and you apologize to Mr. Sato. You say you got defensive to cover up for getting distracted, you shouldn''t have done it, you accept your punishment and you will be on your best behavior going forward. And no matter what his response or how he lectures you over it, you drop it there!"


    And with that, the brainy girl turned on her heels and resumed walking toward the club room.


    The brunette was left standing there bewildered for a moment, only able to find one thing to say.


    "... Yes, ma''am ..."


    * * *


    "Those arrogant, ungrateful brats!"


    The normally monotone old man roared in the privacy of his own office, sweeping the top of his desk clean of papers, books and even a set of lamps with a wide swing of his arm. His blood pumped furiously through his veins like it hadn''t in decades.


    He''d honestly thought he had their attention. He had believed they listened to him, respected him. That Kelly girl, though, she''d opened his eyes. Oh, yes. Her brash, insulting arrogance had been so incredulous that they had snapped out of the comatose trances he''d mistaken for proper respect of one in his position. Now he couldn''t unsee what had been revealed to him.


    "Fools! Idiots! All of them!"


    Sato continued to rage, feeling his blood pressure rise and his heart protest, but he didn''t care. Expletives came from his mouth, anything he could get his boney fingers on getting hurled to one side of the room or the other. Every time he started to calm down, the sheer mass of disrespect riled him up again.


    Anger issues, his ex-wife had said in the divorce paperwork. She had been a fine woman at first, early in their relationship. She understood her place, did her work, and showed him the respect he deserved. Of course he let her go gossip with other women. They were fickle things, and needed their hobbies to avoid getting lost in idleness, and a cultured woman pursued her appropriate hobbies with passion.


    He was an understanding husband, and his wife was a good and proper woman. There was nothing to fear.


    Then the quality of the meals she prepared for him began to decline. She was too busy preparing for this or that event, she had said, and apologized profusely. He was an understanding husband, however, and if this were temporary, he could accept that sometimes it was necessary. Distant committees didn''t set their schedules based on the convenience of their participants, after all. He had even entertained the idea of sweeping her away on a vacation after things settled down, just the two of them.


    His wife was a fine woman, and it wasn''t any surprise that her group continued to excel, moving to ever bigger competitions. When this further impacted her responsibilities at home, he grew more frustrated, but again rationalized that it was temporary. All would settle down once the contests and competitions came to an end, and his wife would return to him.


    When she came to him saying she needed better clothes, it was understandable. After all, it was his duty to provide for her, and her appearance was a reflection of that. He didn''t want his wife to look inferior to anyone else there. He cringed at the prices, but these were special outfits, not whole wardrobes, so it had been manageable.


    The fight had come when he realized what she bought, how she looked like a western woman, legs uncovered, heels lifting her calves, blush and lipstick in place of paint. What unnerved him most of all was how it stripped the years from her face. She had never been quick to show age, but the nearly forty year old woman had gone from looking ten years younger than her age to twenty. As young as she had been when they had married, while his hair had already started to gray and thin, his body starting to lose its grip on the firm, tight lines of youth. He was ashamed to stand next to her, certain it was inevitable someone would sooner or later assume them father and daughter.


    ... And would demand to know why he let his daughter dress that way.


    He called the outfits trashy, he said she was painting herself up like a western tramp, he accused her of dishonoring her husband. She should have bowed to his will, she should have apologized for stepping so far out of bounds, she should have remembered her place. She did none of these things, and that was the first time he realized his perfect wife had been stolen from him, murdered by worldly ways and replaced with an imposter.


    Modernity, she had called it. He had been flabbergasted at how such ideas had gotten into her head, but quickly pieced together that it had been from her thrice-blasted social circle.


    In her absence, he had found solace in his classes, in doing what he could to shape the next generation. Now, he realized, his old foe had once again stricken right under his nose. Modernity ate his wife, and now he only just realized it had long consumed his students, as well. Again, all again, and he was helpless against it because it had already happened while he''d been too blind to see it.


    "Oh my, is this a bad time?"


    His recollections had stilled his outward rage as he bent over his desk, the furious volcano settling into a seething cauldron. Perhaps that was why he hadn''t noticed the new arrival, too lost in the past. Yet when he looked up, he felt the rage leaping back to a full boil.


    "And why is a delinquent like you still on school grounds at this hour?!"


    Mr. Sato didn''t recognize him from any of his classes, but the punk couldn''t be anything else. Clad in skintight clothing underneath an unseasonal fur-lined coat and sporting nearly pure white hair, he jingled with assorted jewelry and bangles. The fool boy had even gone so far as to spread light blue body paint over every inch of exposed skin the old teacher could see.


    Yet the punk had the audacity to feign emotional damage at the categorization, throwing his head back as he ran a hand through his thick hair. "Delinquent?! Why, Mr. Sato, I only came here out of concern for you!"


    He dropped the pose with disturbing quickness as he leaned toward the old teacher with a conspiratorial smirk. "Something''s gotten you so worked up that I can practically feel the negative energy coming off of you. Tell me who hurt you, and maybe I can help. Was it a particular blue-eyed brunette, hmm?"

 Chapter Twenty-Two

    (22)


    It had been a remarkably quiet school day, in no small part because the seat right behind Ran had been empty the entire time.


    She really didn''t consider it a possibility that the being currently posing as Nariko would run away from the issue, refusing to go to school at all to protect her own ego, but she had checked with Haru, anyway. The blonde had confirmed that they had walked to school together as they always did, and had separated upon arrival. Nariko had only told her that she had to make a stop at the teacher''s lounge, but that was enough for Ran to know she was doing as she''d been told.


    When asked, the teachers all said they''d been told that Kelly was helping Mr. Sato for the day, and when she managed to get hold of Miss Sada between classes, she confirmed the same. A memo had gone around to her teachers that the student''s aid had been requested by the math teacher for an unnamed project, and a pass had been issued for the absence.


    Ran hoped that this was a sign the apology had gone over well, and her friend was now protected from her counterpart''s reckless slip-up. As the day went on, however, she began to feel gnawed by guilt. As much as she hated to admit it, despite her scolding, she could absolutely see the possibility that the entity hadn''t actually acted out of character at all. In fact, it was extremely likely that the action was perfectly verbatim for Thunder Witch.


    ... It was Ran that it was out of character for. It was Ran who didn''t like the outburst. It was Ran who didn''t think it was appropriate. And ultimately, it was Ran, despite her lecture on the impact of the being''s actions on Nariko after it passed on, that may have pushed her into doing something that brought undue consequences.


    Thinking of the entity that was not Nariko in such terms also thrummed her chest with guilt. It was such a cold, cruel way to describe someone who was lost and just trying to do her best, and most interactions Ran had with her had shown the being to be friendly and considerate. Very much like a more mature Nariko Kelly, who no longer thought the world revolved around her.


    She liked her, would love to call her a friend. But the being was transitory, coming upon Nariko suddenly and likely to leave just as quickly. By all indications, the being would then effectively be dead. She hated death. She hated its permanence. She hated what it did to those left behind.


    She didn''t want to make a friend that would leave her behind.


    Ran shoved such dark thoughts away. Her attachments, or issues thereof, were irrelevant. Ultimately, she referred to the being that was not Nariko that way simply because there was no other way to do so. The entity had no name to share, no identity to reference, no moniker to use as a label. She truly felt like someone erased, a cruel fate for someone to live through. Well, to maintain a coherent consciousness through.


    There was another issue, of course, that put an unbreachable distance between them. She couldn''t stand knowing a friend was going to die and be powerless to do anything about it. The very thought made her shake a little. She had spoken true the day before, the only thing that mattered to her was protecting her friends, undoubtedly the reason her magical specialty was barriers, a blessing she was normally grateful for.


    ... No barrier within her power to erect could protect the entity from oblivion.


    Again, she forced the dark thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the classroom door before her. As much as she tended to do so, dwelling was not going to make things any better, nor would they get her to class on time. Mind as clear as she could make it, she pushed the door open to return to her classroom for her Algebra lesson.


    Multiple things hit her senses the instant she crossed the threshold. The clip of her uniform''s shoes against tile became the clonk of wooden sandals against a bamboo floor. Her lightweight and airy blouse and skirt, cotton and polyester, was instantly much heavier, a linen bodywrap garment secured by a thick belt of cloth about her abdomen underneath a heavier hemp robe. The scent of the air changed from the relatively sterile modern hallway to tatami, ink and a mild incense.


    ... And there was the distinct sensation of entering a seal, somewhere between the feelings of ears popping and being unable to catch your breath for half a heartbeat.


    The desks were gone, she noticed as she looked around. Instead, her classmates knelt on mats and were already dutifully doing their numbers on wide sheets of paper fastened to the stands before them, using thin rods of charcoal instead of pencils. All of them were dressed as she now was, though none of them seemed to notice or care.


    Her spot was still open, waiting for her, but the one directly behind it was empty, too. Ran cast her gaze around the room once more and saw her.


    Nariko was at the front of the room, in the far corner, kneeling on a silken pillow instead of a tatami mat, and faced sideways relative to the rest of the class, as if her attention was reserved solely for the teacher, rather than for the lesson.


    She was also dressed differently from all of the other students, her kimono pure white and the robe over it red-orange silk decorated with pastel roses. Her long, brown hair was pulled back in a carefully arranged ponytail bound in fine bangles, but her face was lowered with her eyes closed.


    Directly before Nariko was the teacher, recognizable as Mr. Sato despite the black kimono he wore with a golden set of libra scales on his breast. He looked younger, too. His hair was thicker and dark, and his skin was smooth and clean-shaven. He didn''t look as young as Miss Sada, but he was far younger than he should have been.


    He noticed her then, the only one in the room seemingly to do so, and smiled at her. "Miss Wakumi, welcome to class. Please take your place. Or is there something the matter?"


    Ran didn''t know what to do. The scene before her was too bewildering, there were too many variables to consider, too many people at risk. She needed more. More data, more time. More everything.


    So she did as she was told and went to the mat that had previously been her chair, kneeling on it before pulling out her supplies. They, too, had been changed. Her notebook, having been left on the desk, was now the wide pad of off-yellow paper. Her favorite pencil was now a well-kept charcoal stick, wrapped in protective paper and sporting a nicely maintained tip, so she was, at least, pleased that her care had been preserved.


    She noticed Mr. Sato watching her, but focused on the paper, beginning the process of transcribing the equations from the wall-spanning slate that had been a dry erase board. She numbered each one as she wrote it down so that she could clearly label the work when she began solving them. The same process as every day. Normally, Mr. Sato would spend the lecture going through each one in turn, explaining how the lesson of the day was used to solve them.


    Ran wasn''t yet certain what to think about the events. It was unquestionable that they were within a seal, and the implication, given the changes, was strongly that Mr. Sato was now a protodemon. However, he had yet to show any signs of hostility or aggression.


    Yes, his previous day''s nemesis, Nariko Kelly, was now on display at the front of a room pulled straight from a retro medieval contemporary fusion concept of a classroom, but the students were unharmed, even Nariko. So far, the class was proceeding entirely normally, ornamentation aside.


    ... Even putting Nariko on a glorified dunce stool as discipline for her behavior was something she could see the teacher doing. Indeed, were it not for it being the classroom they had been in all day, it might have been feasible that the makeover was the project she had supposedly been assisting him with. Cultural appreciation, to remind them of the principles of the past. Yes, very Sato.


    On the other hand was the near zombie state of her classmates. Not the comatose zombification they normally had once he started lecturing, but that of mindless drones. At least they had the decency not to all be eerily writing at exactly the same pace; it seemed their own individual intellects still dictated their speed.


    Still, none looked up from their paper, none looked to their neighbors. None spoke, their whole world algebra. She had a feeling that would only stop when the lecture started, their unwavering focus instead shifting to Mr. Sato, burning his every word into their brains. Possibly literally.


    She was certain they were in danger, increasingly so the longer this went on, but at the same time, she had never seen so many noncombatants in a single seal.


    Another classmate came in, a girl with bleached blonde hair and abundant makeup. However, she was now clad in the same uniform as the rest of them, and instead of the girl''s normally active nature, she calmly moved to her seat, knelt down and joined the rest of the class in transcribing equations as if oblivious to anything being unusual. Her makeup and jewelry were gone, though Ran noticed the hair was still its artificial color. It wasn''t a dye, but a stripping of natural color, so perhaps there was nothing for Mr. Sato to remove.


    It was clear now that Ran''s demands had directly led Nariko into a protodemon''s mental attack with her defenses down, prepared as she was to accept any lecture from her teacher. The gunmetal girl forced the guilt rising like bile up her chest back down by reminding herself that she couldn''t have known. Neither of them could have. Still, the idea that this whole mess was to some degree her own fault made her hesitate more.


    Nariko would have been decisive if their roles were reversed. She would have transformed instantly and opened fire on Mr. Sato to free Ran from his hold. Regardless of whether it was Nariko or the entity using her name. It wouldn''t have mattered that Ran being in danger would have been Nariko''s fault. Apologies later, action now, that was very much the operating framework of the lightning witch. That Ran could not bring herself to do the same added to her shame.


    She wished Natsumi were there. Her best friend wouldn''t have hesitated to act, either. Tamashini would have known exactly what to do, and immediately moved to give her instruction. Even Haru would have been able to gauge the state of the room and the danger to the students, would have been able to tell just how stable or unstable Mr. Sato was and how to coax him to a safe conclusion.


    What could she do? Just sit there and go along with the illusion? Cooperate with a protodemon while it brainwashed her entire class? Her special ability was supposed to be superintelligence, but all it seemed to be good for was overthinking. Overthinking and doing algebra while having a mental breakdown. At least she could seemingly spare enough brainpower to doing both.


    Mr. Sato stood and moved over to her desk. She kept working dutifully. If nothing else, she understood that to be distracted was to invite the protodemon''s ire. Still, he just stood there and continued to watch her for a while longer before he said anything.


    "You have always been a wonderful student, Miss Wakumi," he finally spoke. "You actually listen, you take your notes, you respect your teachers. I find myself ... pleased that you seem to be aware of the changes I''ve made and yet continue your responsibilities without hiccup."


    "Thank you, Mr. Sato," she replied without breaking in her writing.


    "Am I correct in assuming that Miss Kelly''s apology this morning was your doing?"


    "Yes, Mr. Sato."


    He nodded. "I thought so. She seemed entirely too remorseful for it to have been completely independent. Oh, she was sincere enough, I''m certain, but she is not prone to such self-awareness on her own."


    It seemed like something that didn''t require an answer, so she didn''t give one, continuing her equations.


    Still he stood there, and after a bit, he spoke again. "You are her friend, are you not? Do you think I treated her unfairly?''


    She spared only a polite glance to the brunette still kneeling with her head bowed at the front of the classroom before turning back to her paper. "Your intention seems to be an ironic take on the step of shame or the dunce cap. To illustrate how she elevated herself above the rest of the class yesterday."


    Again, he nodded, this time more proudly. "Yes, yes. I''m glad the intended meaning is so clear."


    She added another thought after a moment, taking the moment of silence to jot down the solution to another variable. "The wedding attire on a student is a little disturbing."


    "Yes ..." he said again, this time sounding a little guilty, or at least reflective. "That wasn''t quite my intention at the time, but something about her reminded me of my ex-wife, and it just happened."


    She ventured a little. "Does that mean you understand what is happening to you, Mr. Sato?"


    "You do?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his tone, but then he rubbed his chin. "I see. You are like Miss Kelly, then? One of these ..." he spun his hand as if reluctant to say such an unrealistic word, and the way he accented it reinforced that, "... witches. I suppose that''s why you''re aware of what is happening around you."


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He was silent for a bit, pacing a couple steps away from her before turning back. "When I was told about your little group, I thought they must be a bunch of delinquents, but to learn you are one of them ..."


    "The Student President is, as well," she provided, seeing no reason to hide it. Either way, Miss Sada would have to take care of his mind. "To be honest, brutes like Kelly and Homura are there more for their sheer combat prowess."


    "Hmm, and what is it you combat, then?"


    "Demons usually," she replied, "like the one that cursed you. Though if something else came up to threaten people, I''m sure we''d fight it, too. That''s the whole idea, to protect people."


    "Are you saying I am a danger to my students?"


    There was a dangerous tone to the question that made her hesitate.


    "Not necessarily," she answered after a moment of thought. "But if you keep going the way you are now, you will be. What you''re doing will make them what we call minions, weaker foot soldiers empowered by your magic but unable to think for themselves, slaved to your will. A substitute for dretches, weaker true demons that fight for greater demons."


    "You speak so quietly, Miss Wakumi. Are you afraid of me?"


    Again, that made her hesitate a moment. "I ... am afraid of what you might do, Mr. Sato."


    "Because I am a demon?"


    "Not yet. But the longer you hold onto that power, the more dangerous you''ll become, both to yourself and your students."


    At that, he wheeled on her. "I''m saving my students with this power! Pulling them back from the jaws of modernity! Their phones, their music, their literature! All drawing them into this cesspool of blas nihilism! No respect for their elders, no respect for themselves, no respect for the world around them!"


    He leaned down to her eye level, gripping the sides of her table stand with his hands. "Surely you can see that, Miss Wakumi! They''re your peers, you can see it with your own two eyes!"


    At least she had answered the question of his emotional stability. This must have been close to his motivating issue, as the previously conformed teacher practically jumped off the rails when it was brought up. Yet him coming over, the conversation, she couldn''t help but think he''d wanted to talk about it. Did he want confirmation? Vindication? Just congratulation?


    She continued to work on her equations.


    "I know that the modern world has changed things," she finally answered as she did three digit long division in her head faster than her charcoal rod could relay the work to the paper. "I know not all of it is good, some of it may be really bad, and most of it is beyond my frame of reference. Of course there is value in remembering the past, and having never known the adult world, we are dependent upon adults to impress upon us that value."


    This, more than the math on the paper, was straining her brain. Abstract philosophical thought had never been a strength of hers. She was more comfortable coding a program to pass a Turing test than she was with wrestling against existential truths.


    That she was doing so against a protodemon for the lives of over two dozen fellow classmates was even more stressful. Worse, she had to keep focused on the math. She wasn''t allowed to stress out over her answers. If she did, if she got distracted, it might set Mr. Sato off.


    "Then you do understand what I''m doing!"


    But that ... at that, she had to put the charcoal down, and the motion seemed to surprise him almost as much as her looking up from her work to look him in the eyes. She knew he could see it, the steel in her soul that would never allow her barriers to break.


    "I understand what you are trying to do, Mr. Sato," she replied. "I even think it''s laudable, if a touch overzealous. This arrangement of the classroom is something we should remember for getting us in the proper spirit for cultural week."


    The teacher said nothing. He was eyeing her. He knew there was a but coming.


    Ran took a deep breath before delivering it. "But that''s not what you''re doing. Mr. Sato, I beg you, please, take a step back and actually analyze what your magic is doing to the students. Please, just for a moment."


    And he did. He stepped back from her table and looked back and forth across the students'' faces as they bent over their work with machine-like dedication. They still plodded along at their own paces, but all, to a name, plodded along.


    In some back corner of her mind, Ran morbidly wondered what they would do if they wrote for so long that they ran out of rod to write with.


    "Class ..." Mr. Sato spoke after a long pause. His voice wavered in uncertainty as he did so, and it was a soft-spoken thing.


    Yet, to a student, they all set their charcoal rods down and turned their heads to look at him. There was no hesitation, no mockery, no mutterings of what was the matter. just eyes, nearly five dozen of them, turned up toward him, waiting for instruction. Only Nariko''s head remained bowed, like a subservient statue set apart from those that would be her peers, not to be considered of their number.


    He looked over at her, and Ran could tell he knew why she remained unmoving, though she, herself, could only guess at the specifics. After a moment, he pointed to the brunette. "Look at her!"


    Immediately, all of the heads, save his own, Ran''s and, of course, Riko''s, obediently swiveled to comply, but there was no recognition on their faces. They had no response to it. After all, to speak out of turn would be disruptive. Disruptive was rude. Rude was disrespectful. Disrespectful was dishonorable. They could not respond, so they did not.


    Another long, tense moment passed, and Mr. Sato pointed to a random student in the front row. "What do you see?!" The uncertainty in his tone was growing more to a panic now.


    Obediently, the student, a young man, stood from his cushion as was appropriate, his posture straight and stiff. "Teacher, I see a student who did not obey your will and is being punished for her dishonor." His tone was as stiff as his stance, and his word choice had an echo of archaic traditionalism to it.


    He pointed to another, this one a girl. "You! What do you see?!"


    She stood the same way and spoke in the same tone, while the boy remained standing since he hadn''t been relieved. "Teacher, I see a student who did not obey your will and is being punished for her dishonor."


    He called on a third and a fourth and each responded verbatim to the first. Finally, four students still standing, he flung his hand to the brunette, herself. "Miss Kelly, what do you see?!"


    "The back of my eyelids."


    Ran barely suppressed a laugh at that, covering it with a cough as she covered her mouth with her hand. Unlike the students, she had not stood, nor used honorifics toward him, but as amusing as the literal response was, and very likely the answer Riko would have given in sarcasm, the gunmetal girl could tell the brunette''s words lacked the ... energy that was typical of her. It was an answer only, and nothing more. All she was allowed to give.


    Ran cleared her throat to correct for the cough. "You see it now, don''t you, Mr. Sato? Already, they''re not thinking for themselves. You''re thinking for them. The longer this goes on, the less they''ll be able to do so ever again."


    At her words, Mr. Sato bent down over his own table, larger and grander than that of any of the students, gripping it in white-knuckled hands as expressions warred across his face. "It''s for them!" he insisted. "I''m doing it for them! I''m saving them!"


    The girl stood now, making it five students off of their tatami mats, but she did so under her own will. She took one step toward him, steel eyes pinning him down. "You''re killing them, Mr. Sato. You''re killing them and enslaving their corpses to your will. They''re your charges. By your honor, you protect and guide them. Mr. Sato, you are failing your duty!"


    "I can''t! I won''t!" His expressions, the contortions of his jaw, the writhing agony of his eyebrows grew more and more extreme. Were it still possible, one might think he was having a stroke. Perhaps, in a manner of speaking, the internal struggle between the man and the protodemon wasn''t so far off from one. "They''re my students! Mine! I must protect them! I will! From themselves! From the world!"


    "From you!" Ran dared take another step forward. "You must protect them from you! You are killing your students! You must protect them!"


    "HOW?!" The teacher''s outcry was almost a howl of agony.


    "Send them from the seal! Mr. Sato, you are killing your students! You must protect them! You must eject them from the seal right now!"


    It was a gamble, playing with the driving motivations of a protodemon, but it paid off. With a loud cry that was as much anguish as it was fury, Mr. Sato gave a great wave of his hand, and the room was far more empty. Only Ran, Nariko and Mr. Sato remained, and the last half collapsed over his desk as he panted from the struggle that had been decided inside of him.


    A weight left Ran''s shoulders at the same time, and they slumped slightly with the release. The biggest concern had passed. The students were all safe. Probably piled in the classroom, confused and disoriented, but even though there were likely still several within arms reach of her, the threat was contained within the seal.


    Even if things went south with the protodemon, it would be very hard to get them back into it. Miss Sada had no doubt already picked up on the large release of energy from so many leaving it at once and was on her way to see to them.


    There was time for both of them to catch their breaths, perhaps several actual minutes of it even, though it was hard to say. Then, slowly, like a man coming back to life, Mr. Sato began the process of extricating himself from the things on his desk.


    "... What ..." he began, then smacked his lips and swallowed before trying again. "... What now ...?"


    Ran took a deep breath of her own. That really was the question, wasn''t it? Potential hostility from the protodemon felt lower than ever. It had sacrificed its own cause for that same cause, and now was lost, without direction or focus.


    "... That''s ... pretty much up to you ..." she finally concluded. "It may not feel like it, but you can pretty much release the curse at any time before it takes you over fully. You let it grip you in the first place, and the choice to keep it or not remains yours. It will mean giving up your magical powers, since you didn''t have any before, and you would return to being a regular human. Most who are cursed are too lost in the emotions driving them to do so, emotions that in turn feed the curse, itself. In this moment of clarity, you could do what they could not."


    Mr. Sato slumped down onto his cushion, not on his knees, but straight to his butt. His elbows pressed into his table as his hands clasped over his face. It was clear that his struggle between his driving curse and his corrupted sense of duty that inspired it had left him weakened and disoriented. He looked exhausted, almost like an old man again.


    He pulled one hand away from his face and turned it over and back before his gaze. "... Will I ... become an old man again? Weak and fading?"


    She considered the question for a moment. "I ... don''t know. I''m sorry, Mr. Sato. I suppose it depends on how you changed yourself in the first place. I think it could go either way."


    The teacher didn''t answer, didn''t even nod in reception of her response. Instead, after another slow pause as he gathered his thoughts and energy, he lowered his other hand and testingly clenched it into a fist. "And if I chose to keep the curse? If I didn''t give it up? If I liked it too much?"


    But Ran shook her head. "That would again be up to you. What you did with it. Eventually, it would turn you into a demon entirely, but demons vary wildly in their natures. If yours remained unchanged, I do not see why you couldn''t even continue being our teacher, if that was what you wanted.


    "Unless a greater power forced you, you wouldn''t return to their plane until you were destroyed. You would effectively be immortal. Even if you died somehow, your energy would return to that plane and eventually recoalesce into a corporeal state. It would, however, be impossible to ever return to being human again. Beyond that, I''m sorry, but it''s not something we know much about. You would have to ask Miss Sada for more."


    At that, he looked up at her, one eyebrow shooting up in bewildered confusion. "Sada?! What does your history teacher have to do with this?!"


    "She is our mentor," Ran answered honestly. "She''s not a witch or a demon, though. She is a fifth dimensional being that came from outside of our concept of reality to keep an eye on us."


    Instead of rising, his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. "Sarasa? A fifth-- Miss Wakumi, what does that even mean?"


    The girl adjusted her glasses, which had remained even with the shift in attire. "It means she is a being beyond the comprehension of either humans or demons. A true Cthulhuian entity. Fortunately, her people''s code of ethics prohibits her from taking any direct action. She can do little more than observe and advise."


    "But I saw her at the grocery store just last week," he protested. "She was musing over on-sale hams! We groused about grading tests! I- I advised her on replacing the light bulb in her fridge!"


    "Yes," Ran frowned apologetically, keenly aware of how adept the woman in question was at slipping into the natural flow of things. "She enjoys putting in the effort to appear normal and make small talk. I think she finds it ... quaint. And perhaps a small victory when she pulls it off, like she''s successfully tricked us."


    * * *


    Mr. Sato bowed his head again, slowly shaking it back and forth in his hands. Trying to square away this latest revelation. One more thing without the common decency or respect for tradition to be as it ought to be. Accepting the existence of demons was easy when you were cursed by one. Being told the young, approachable history teacher was actually an ancient and unknowable force treading lightly so as not to shatter their reality was a bit more of a stretch.


    It wouldn''t be until he looked up again that he would realize he no longer had Ran''s attention. She was looking past him. Toward Nariko.


    He heard it then, too, reaching his awareness before he had time to overreact and lash out at the bespectacled student. Soft, quick steps. Humming? Was that ... a camera shutter?


    "Hey! What are you doing?!" Ran''s indignant voice, impressively almost reaching a raised volume, rang out before the teacher, himself, could turn around to see what was happening.


    It was the icy-haired boy from the night before. The demon that had given him the power to-- No, the demon that had endangered his students by encouraging his indulgence without informing him of the consequences. He was stepping back, forth and around Nariko''s kneeling form, snapping pictures with a smartphone and being all giggly about the shots he was taking.


    He paused at Ran''s question and turned his attention from the device to her. Mr. Sato felt the urge to put himself between the two, to tell his student to run, to not anger a demon, to shove her out of the seal. But the demon just smiled like any other boy. Like they knew each other, even.


    "Ah! Getting pictures," he explained unabashedly and full of excitement. "How could I call myself a fan and pass up memorializing such a rare costume?!" He shook the phone for emphasis. "Oh, but don''t worry, yours is great, too! I got lots of shots of you and your classmates already! Oh, but if you''d like to pose with her--"


    Wakumi''s face was getting more and more red as the demon rambled on, and Sato was wracked with guilt that he had been the one to render Kelly completely unable to do anything but sit there, posed for this young man''s amusement. It was revolting, dishonorable behavior to treat a woman like that, and he was doing it to his students!


    He was back to his feet with such force he had shoved the heavy desk a foot away from him. His muscles seized as they demanded his movement, his fists clenched as they longed to strike the boy down. Black energy began to flicker around him. "You filthy, degenerate bastard!"


    That seemed to shock the demon boy out of his elation, turning his attention to Mr. Sato with a surprised expression on his face, as if he had completely forgotten the older man was there and had just been reminded. "Eh?" he asked, pointing to himself with his free hand. "''Scuse me?"


    Sato launched himself at the blue-skinned boy, and as he drew his fist back, he felt his arm ... unwind from itself as the fist, itself, grew bigger and heavier. The chained arm of a great scale, drawn back like a medieval flail and igniting with righteous fire to strike down the dishonorable.


    "YOU GET AWAY FROM HER!!!"


    He stopped mid-stride, mere paces from the boy. The demon''s mirthful expression was gone, turned dark with a sinister smile as he held that free hand out toward the teacher. His every muscle wasn''t so much locked as it was simply unmoving, even those halfway through tensing or releasing themselves. He couldn''t so much as twitch his nose. It was as if someone had hit pause on his entire body.


    "You stupid old man," the boy mocked him. "I am your sire! Do you really think a demon would give a mortal power he couldn''t control?! So long as you are a protodemon, you are my slave! And by the time you are a real demon, you''ll understand your place. In the meantime, I''ll explain it to you one more time."


    The demon pointed over his shoulder, toward Miss Wakumi, and Sato found his body turning around without any input from him. Turning to face his student.


    "Your job," the arrogant demon continued, "is to destroy the witches! Make it happen!"


    The dark energy began to surge around him again, suffusing every fiber of his being with more power than he had ever felt in his life, and his last fading thought as his gaze, still paralyzed into the rage he had so foolishly aimed at the demon, fell on Wakumi ...


    Run, you fool girl ... run!

 Chapter Twenty-Three

    (23)


    Ran took another step back at the extra space taken up by Mr. Sato''s combat form.


    His whole body was girded in metal, his main body looking like some sort of humanoid, legless rook that hovered in the air. His shoulders stretched out from the main body into the arms of a set of scales, while his actual limbs were long, metal chains that ended in heavy platters that dragged on the ground with how he was hunched over.


    Despite the inhuman appearance, she could still hear him panting from the great surge of dark power. That soon stopped and he straightened himself upwards, nearly scraping the already high ceiling. As he locked eyes on her, she could already tell the being before her was no longer her teacher.


    It let out a deep growl, or perhaps it was the sound of it inhaling. "Destroy ..." It threw its head back with a booming shout as flames ignited like raging infernos in its platters. "DESTROY ... WITCHES!!!"


    One of those platters came down and crashed into the flooring, sending the bamboo flying in every direction like a bomb had gone off even as she jumped back away from the point of impact. Her jump and the blast of force sent her clear to the back of the room, her sandals skidding an arm''s length before she finally stopped.


    But that steel was back in her eyes, and she held her arm diagonally down across from her as blue energy flickered at her fingertips. "I''m sorry, Mr. Sato ..." She didn''t know how, but, "... I''ll save you! TRANSFORM!"


    The dark blue card she threw above her head broke apart and flowed down over her pirouetting form like water before solidifying over her as she moved into it. Each segment flashed like hardened steel before softening again into the flowing fabrics of her pop-ish outfit. "Unyielding aegis of devotion!"


    She came to a stop in a one-step pose that had most of her weight on one foot while the other one tipped back, only touching the floor with the toes, and her arms raised in a vertical cross as if she were going to absorb a blow ... albeit badly.


    "Shield Witch!"


    She always wondered why their finishing poses seemed more like cover shoot versions of actual combat ready poses than anything functional, but brushed it off as just pretty magical girl things doing pretty magical girl things. It gave her the power to protect her friends, and that was all that mattered. It could have put her in a bikini and she still would have taken it.


    It was fortunate that she did not need to physically block a blow with the stance. Sato immediately resumed the attack as soon as the arcane fields faded, and his flail-like limb came around again.


    This time, it ricocheted off of a gunmetal blue energy field in the form of a forward semisphere as Shield Witch raised her hand out against it, then, with a single leap, she crossed over the tables and landed perfectly on the other side of the room, distance between her and her former teacher restored.


    She liked being a Witch. Shield Witch wasn''t like Ran. She didn''t need to be nervous, worrying about what people would think. She didn''t need to feel insecure about being small and weak. Small, she may have still been, but the power coursing through her body was anything but weak. She was stronger than Natsumi, faster than Nariko, and more powerful than Reina. Not their Witch forms, of course, but she dwarfed the pinnacle of normal humanity.


    With a furious roar, Sato moved toward her as he spun his body around, raining blows from those heavy plates down toward her form, but with both hands out, the barrier held until his momentum overtook his limbs and tangled around his own body, forcing him to totter backwards until he could control himself again.


    The best part of being Shield Witch, though, was the sense of invincibility. Nothing was stronger than her barriers when her focus was on them. Nothing could get through them. Nothing could hurt her or her friends.


    Sato resumed his assault, slamming each plate against her defenses one after another. The assault was slower this time as he seemed to focus on each individual strike rather than trying to bury her underneath them, but this wasn''t going to work, either. She even alternated the hand she put forward with each attack, each one producing an off-center barrier to one side or the other that deflected the blow away from her.


    "Ah, Shield Witch. The tenacious tank of the triple A team. Truly immovable."


    It was Eirwen, starting in on his crooning. It was always so embarrassing. As if they couldn''t tell he wouldn''t be nearly as interested in them if they were just normal girls. It was shallow and didn''t mean anything. Someone that looked like Eirwen would never give someone that looked like Ran Wakumi a second glance.


    Not that she was interested in a demon prince taking an interest in her, of course. It was the two-faced principle of the matter. All he was interested in was their power and the fact they got fancy attire when they transformed. All he saw was a real-life cartoon, and that was all he cared to see.


    "That''s fine, of course, when you have a team to do the rest of the fighting for you. Team work makes the dream work," the prince recited with a cheerful pep to his veneer of praise. "I wonder, though," he ventured with fake curiosity as he tapped his sleek chin with one finger, "do you even actually have any offensive moves on your own?"


    Her focus slipped a little at that, and the next blow from Sato''s scales sent cracks racing across her barrier.


    "Any lightning bolts, maybe? Shadow conjuration? A shiny weapon or two? Maybe you could use your barriers as some sort of laser lens? Ooh, fireballs! Those''re classic! Got any of those?"


    The defensive screen shattered, but she was still fast enough to jump clear. In frustration, she wheeled on Eirwen as soon as she landed. "Will you please shut up, Wren!"


    Of course, he just grinned at that. "Ah, I''ll take that as a no. That''s a problem, you know. Mr. Sato, here, is quite the tank, himself. I don''t think you''ll be able to save him if all you''re able to do is block. Sooner or later, you''re going to have to hit him with something."


    Shield Witch hissed as another barrier shattered, again buying her the time to dodge. The demon prince''s barbs were too distracting for her to focus on her magic, no doubt the whole point. It wouldn''t be so effective, though, if she didn''t know he was right.


    She knew she had a lack of noteworthy offensive magic. Heck, she was the only one Sword Witch didn''t seem to have any interest in getting buddy-buddy with because she didn''t have anything worth stealing. If she wanted to learn barrier magic, she could literally get it from anyone. It wasn''t even a unique spell like most Witch techniques.


    That had always been fine by Ran, though. She wanted to protect people, not blow them up. Like Eirwen said, that was fine when someone else was there to blow things up for her. She was able to specialize and protect them, and they were able to focus on doing what they did best. Any serious MMO player understood how important that sort of teamwork was.


    But here, times like these, it was a lot harder to be morally superior about doing harm. When she had to stand on her own against a real threat, she felt weak. The one thing being Shield Witch normally helped her avoid feeling. It was why, despite her swearing to save Mr. Sato, she didn''t actually know how she''d do it.


    She did have offensive magic, despite the prince''s crooning to the contrary, but more than any other Witch, her powers derived their strength directly from the force of her will. Her magical attacks were slow and did little direct damage, doing more to shove an opponent around. She couldn''t imagine them doing anything meaningful to an opponent as big, heavy and well-armored as her demonically berserk teacher, which meant they couldn''t do anything meaningful to him.


    It was the trade-off for how potentially unmovable she could be. No matter how powerful she should be, her performance was forever capped by her own self-worth in any given endeavor. Another piece of Ran Wakumi that held back the power of Shield Witch, and another reason to be frustrated with herself.


    Again, as she continued to avoid the protodemon''s attacks and work out a plan of her own, she thought of the entity within Nariko. She thought of Sword Witch. She envied that unshakable confidence. Sword Witch believed she could do anything she set her mind to, and so she could.


    There was no hesitation to the other girl, either. Never any question of if. When something had to be done, she would find a way to do it, even if it meant breaking all the laws of reason.


    Even without any powers, without transformations, without memories, the entity had destroyed half a dozen dretches and saved Dakunaito from an underhanded sneak attack by another greater demon. There was no way Ran could have done the same.


    When evangelium and hordestadt weren''t enough to save her best friend, Sword Witch altered her own mind to cast a spell unique to another Witch, a feat impossible for the greatest of demon sorcerers. It would have been impossible for Shield Witch, too.


    Captured by an all-encompassing illusion that lied to their every sense, Sword Witch was able to look past the gruesome deaths of her best friend and her older sister, to stand up with all of the weight of the darkness pulling her down, and assault the enemy to blame from nothing but memory of the room they were actually in.


    She didn''t need to guess she couldn''t have done the same. She was there. Even now, she didn''t want to remember how she bawled as she held the hallucination of Natsumi''s bisected body in her arms. How she had been unable to raise one of her vaunted barriers to save her from the demon''s scythe even as the redhead begged for her protection. When Sword Witch fried the room with that lightning storm and snapped them all out of it, Ran had been heartbeats away from begging the darkness to take her.


    Maybe Ran Wakumi wasn''t fit to be a Witch. Her mind, that part of her that was supposed to be her greatest strength, perpetually undercut her. If she weren''t so horrified of violence, perhaps she would have better offensive spells. If she weren''t always second-guessing what she was capable of, maybe she, too, could bend common sense to her will.


    Instead, all her supergenius mind ever seemed to come up with were reasons why she couldn''t. It didn''t even matter that Sword Witch had proved it was possible. All she knew was that she couldn''t do it. Because she wasn''t some amazing magical ghost able to make a mockery of all reason. She was just Ran Wakumi, bound eternally by reason even in a world of magic and witches and demons and maternal fifth dimensional horrors. And magical ghosts able to make a mockery of reason.


    Inflicting pain on others hurt oneself, she firmly believed this with every fiber of her being. She admired those who could shoulder that pain for the good of others, and every other Witch seemed such a person. Every Witch but her. Ran Wakumi was too afraid of getting hurt. So afraid, in fact, that all of her magic centered around preventing it.


    Her barriers were breaking faster, costing her more energy to compensate. She couldn''t continue down this rabbit hole. The nature of her powers meant she could talk herself into powerlessness if she allowed it. She had to focus!


    Think, Ran! Use that giant head of yours for something productive and think!


    What did she have at her disposal besides barriers?


    Her gaze fell on Nariko, still kneeling with head bowed and eyes shut despite the fighting.


    ... Shield Witch had a transformation, she realized. She was stronger than Natsumi, faster than Nariko, more powerful than Reina. That was what she had. That, and a very firm understanding of physics.


    Her barrier deflected another blow and didn''t shatter this time, though she didn''t stay under it for it to matter. Instead, the blow was hardly deflected before she charged right for Mr. Sato. The next blow missed her completely as the protodemon floundered for too long at this change in tactics.


    She was before him in an instant, airborne from a jump as her body twisted ...


    And she slammed her foot into the side of his body with a dull clang that had enough force behind it to shift his massive, heavy body.


    Eirwen didn''t look at all impressed as she jumped away from a retaliatory strike and prepared to make her advancement again. "You ... went with ... kicking him ..." His mouth opened to say something more, but nothing came out of it when she kicked the teacher again, so he shut it and tried once more.


    "... Lady Shield Witch, that is a tactic I would expect from the equally lovely but far less creative Lady Flame Witch. Surely, this wasn''t the best you could come up with?"


    The blow landed again, to the same spot, though she had to take different routes up to it as the protodemon tried to cut her off.


    "You don''t have to destroy a mountain in a single strike, you know," she answered. Clang. "Poke it enough times and you''ll reduce it to dust all the same." Clang.


    "Mountains don''t heal over time!"


    "I heal, too, Wren."


    He almost cringed at the clang as the blow landed again. "He''s harder than you are! The only thing you''re going to pound to dust is--"


    His words stopped on his tongue as the blow came again, and this time, he caught sight of a flash of gunmetal blue around her leg just before impact.


    Clang.


    Eirwen''s eyes widened and he began to chuckle. "Oh, you clever little sprite. Forgive me, I forgot who I was talking to. Perhaps old Sato isn''t harder after all." Clang. "Now, you just need to keep that up for, oh, a couple weeks?"


    Clang.


    "Oh, I could bring drinks and snacks! We could all have a little picnic while you take a breather every other day or so!"


    Clang.


    He must have thought she was ignoring him, as his face grew irritated again. "You can''t possibly think you''re going to go all that time and he''s never going to catch you and gain the upper hand."Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Clang.


    But she answered him all the same. "I''ve beaten every Dark Souls game without getting hit the entire playthrough, Wren. Mr. Sato is no Kalameet."


    Clang.


    It wasn''t clear if Eirwen got the reference, but he did start to look a little worried, so she decided to make it a little worse.


    "Besides, with the students already put out of the seal, it''s not going to be two weeks before the others get in here." Clang. "I doubt I''ll have to keep this up for ten minutes."


    He was frowning deeply now, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded petulant. "Fine!" He threw an arm over Nariko''s shoulder. "I''ll just take Lady Thunder Witch with me, since you''re busy. Maybe introduce her to Mom, what do you think?"


    Clang.


    "I think she will wake up and fry you as soon as you take her out of this seal," the gunmetal girl replied.


    He hunched his shoulders with a growl of frustration at that. Finally, he turned away from her in a huff, making a subtle flick with his fingers as he did so.


    The ground under her foot went slick with a sheet of ice so thin it was transparent just as she was putting it down. It promptly flew out from under her with fifty times as much force as a normal person''s slip would have had, sending her spinning literally in mid-air.


    The next instant, Sato''s flaming tray came around and smashed her out of the air, the chain extending to keep the blow going until it slammed her straight through the classroom wall. This one was still modern, but completely empty since they were still within the seal.


    The chain began to retract with a sound reminiscent of a crank until it pulled Shield Witch back into the room, bound and struggling against the protodemon''s flexible black steel appendage.


    "Oops," Wren taunted as Sato lifted her effortlessly off the ground and the crank kept going, causing the chain to begin to tighten around her. "Guess dodging in real life''s a little more complicated than quick-timing a button! How about that!"


    He started to laugh, but then let out a yelp as he jumped away from Nariko, who had begun to spark, yellow currents of electricity pulsing sporadically across her form.


    Eirwen took one long, leery look at her and began to step toward the door, even if such a mundane exit wasn''t strictly necessary for him. "Uh, actually, speaking of my lovely mother, I think I recall needing to pick something up at the store for her! I''ll be taking my leave. Hurry up and finish her, Teach, or you''re going to be dealing with two of them!"


    And he literally vanished through the classroom''s sliding door.


    The electricity continued to build over Nariko''s stationary form like a generator priming its first charge, but not faster than the chains around Ran were tightening.


    By force of will and a free set of fingers, she pushed a barrier against the protodemon''s face, trying to pry him off of herself. The cranking slowed as his metal head was pushed back, but didn''t stop, clicking in one more slow link at a time, pressing into her shoulders, folding her arms in, squeezing her ribs inward.


    By Babbage''s Engine, she thought as she grimaced against the steadily increasing pain. If she''s going to wake up, she''d better hurry up and do it quick!


    Both the lightning and the pressure kept ratcheting up for what seemed like mere moments and an eternity, and the whole time, she pressed against the mechanically unrelenting protodemon with all of the will she could muster. Just to buy a little more time.


    "Guh...!" she grunted, her breath already reduced to short gasps. "Wake up ... Nariko ..." The tighter it got, the more her gaze drifted to the still kneeling girl, now wrapped in coruscating currents of charge. The longer it took, the more she questioned if she would be able to hold out long enough.


    "I''m sorry ... I''m sorry ... I made you ... go against ... yourself ... made you ... do what I wanted ..."


    Her head was starting to pound, and her hand started to drift away from Sato and toward Nariko as tunnel vision started to close in.


    "Please ... wake up ... Riko ... wake up ... Sword ... Witch ..."


    Reflexively, her body inhaled sharply, desperate for oxygen, and the chain that had been slowing more and more as it got tighter picked that moment to ratchet over. Something in her chest snapped, and the sudden stabbing pain made her scream with all of the air she''d just taken in.


    She vaguely registered an explosion of light and the sensation of her falling. It was incredibly brief, and by the time she felt the heavy impact underneath her of the protodemon being the one to jump away for a change, it was because she was already laying on the ground.


    Ran forced her eyes open to stare ahead at the white kimono standing in front of her and the golden sword in the hand of its wearer. "Riko ..." she gasped.


    "Sorry I''m late," was all she said. "I''ll take it from here."


    * * *


    The brunette watched as the humanoid scales began to retract the chain she''d cut to free Ran. The end reconnected with the heavy plate as it passed with a snap like a magnet. The thing was built like a tank, all intersecting steel plates.


    She already felt adrenaline pumping through her as she started planning how she''d fight it.


    Shield Witch was on the ground behind her, still gasping for breath. "That''s ... Mr. Sato, ... Riko ..."


    But she just looked back at the girl with a grin. "I know. I couldn''t do a thing, but I was conscious the whole time. And you were really cool, Ran. Great work. Don''t worry, I''ll keep your promise."


    The gunmetal girl blushed at the praise, but the brunette turned her attention back to the protodemon that was growling as it regathered itself. The growl transformed into a battle cry as it flailed its arms and threw its head back.


    "DESTROY! WITCHES!!!"


    She tightened the grip on her sword. "Come and try it, Teach."


    Sato''s reach was far longer than the brunette''s as Sword Witch charged, but she swatted the plates away with her blade until she reached melee range and their exchange began in earnest.


    It didn''t take long, unfortunately, for her to realize the problem. With complete control over his limbs, at the range she had to be within to use her sword, he effectively had omnidirectional attack capabilities. He wasn''t so good that he could catch her from a blind spot, but her most effective means of defense was to knock the attacks away.


    That meant she was making many attacks with the demonic weapon, but few of them were actually against the protodemon. Down that path led only magical burnout, and she had already seen what that was like in the middle of a fight.


    She needed a more efficient means of damaging him, but the room was too cluttered to maneuver and fire the pistol at the same time, and it wasn''t any less exhausting than the sword. That left her only spell, or a direct discharge of her magic energy into him. The latter was anything but efficient, and would require her to remain too still, a death sentence with those chains that had already nearly taken Ran.


    As soon as she had an opening, she jumped back to try to gain enough room to cast. "Shining Lance!"


    The beam splashed across Sato''s face and he staggered away, disoriented from the bright light. She took the opening to close and strike him again, but a sword, even one of this much power, was a poor weapon against his armor, glancing off with few marks to show for it.


    If she allowed this to turn into an endurance battle, she would surely lose.


    That realization burned in her. Had she really spent all day kneeling on a mat like a demon''s bride for this?!


    It felt like indigestion rising up in her, and she clenched her fist tighter around the hilt of her sword even as she jumped away from his first real attack after the Lance.


    Worse, Ran would die with her. She''d take it from here, she''d boasted. Hell of a job she was doing of that.


    She knocked one of the heavy plates away again with more fury than necessary in her growing frustration. For a protodemon, Mr. Sato wasn''t even that great of a fighter! His form was sloppy and nearly mindless. She didn''t want to lose to a foe like that! She couldn''t!


    The other plate went soaring by, missing her as she turned, but her eyes caught sight of the flames burning within it. In the wind blowing them back in flight, they seemed to reach for her.


    She felt like she could grasp them if she only reached back ...


    Sword Witch couldn''t say what she snatched, only that, on reflex, she turned and hurled it into Sato''s face when he wound up for another attack while she was distracted, and fire exploded between them.


    Behind her, Shield Witch''s eyes went wide as saucers. She found her voice as the shockwave through the room settled down.


    "Riko ... that was Natsumi''s ..."


    The brunette''s own face was stretched into a grin of childish glee. She felt that fire in her chest, knew she could call on it again. Another spell! She could throw fireballs!


    She tempered her enthusiasm, though, and focused on the fight and how best to proceed. Could this spell change her approach? Should it?


    Yes, she decided. If anything, it was exactly what she needed. The heat could weaken his armor plating and the concussive impacts could rattle anything that might be inside. In fact ...


    Her grin returned as she glanced back to Ran. "I know I said I''d take it from here, but I just had a crazy idea. Are you up to making a bubble shield with an interior that can handle a lot of fire?"


    Shield Witch''s eyes narrowed in thought for a moment, but widened the next in realization. "You want an oven."


    And the brunette''s grin widened further.


    Ran stared at the nigh-mad expression for a long moment, but narrowed her eyes as the light once more reflected off of them like steel and she nodded.


    The brunette repelled another pair of swings from those big, heavy plates, then kicked forward again. She made for the middle of the room, aiming to herd the large, dumb brute away from the wall. Her sword was held in just her right hand as the left began the arduous process of charging fire magic without losing focus on the battle, itself.


    Gone was the concern of endurance, the fear of burn-out. This plan would work, and that meant the entire battle was downhill from here.


    In a moment of ingenuity, she jumped back and, with all of her force, directed a wild swing from Sato past her instead of away, only adding to its momentum and shooting it spinning around his metal body like it was a game of tetherball. It wrapped in tight, binding the other one with it, and he even teetered as if his legs, too, were caught up despite not having any.


    "NOW, SHIELD WITCH!"


    Ran hadn''t yet dared climb to her feet, not least of all because it might draw Sato''s attention back to her prematurely, but the fact her body was still one big pain certainly was high on the list. But she pushed both hands forward with an intense look of focus. If this was going to be Flame Witch''s fire fueled by Thunder Witch''s striking power, this barrier needed to be one of the strongest she''d ever forged. And it would be.


    A sphere of force completely enclosed the protodemon before it realized it was trapped, only just big enough to fully encircle it with a forearm''s length to spare in any direction.


    The fireball in the brunette''s hand had taken more and more effort to contain. It begged to be released, begged to explode, and it was a battle of will to restrain it even as she poured more and more magic into it. It was large enough that it now required her to hold her entire arm out behind her to give it the space to swirl and burn like a miniature sun even as its corona flickered and danced with lightning instead of solar flares.


    A hole in the barrier opened right in front of her, and she pulled that massive fireball around toward it as if there were a great weight at the end of that arm. Her sword vanished back into a bracelet as she grabbed her wrist to stabilize it.


    "Eat Spirit Bomb, Sato!" she shouted and blasted the energy into the inside of the shield.


    * * *


    The classroom had its desks all pushed to the walls to make room for the disoriented and recovering students. Most were even asleep to keep them from panicking or asking too many questions before Sarasa could get to them.


    And why wouldn''t they? They were all dressed like they''d just stepped out of the fourteenth century. Half of them didn''t understand what was happening and some even thought they were waking up from a vivid nightmare.


    Honestly, the fifth dimensional catwoman was at something of a loss of what to do with them all. For all the time the girls had been in conflict with the demons, the latter group had shown a strong aversion to involving noncombatants. It was generally assumed they didn''t want the distraction, or wanted to keep their little war a secret.


    But this was now officially not a one-off incident. The issue with Miss Cho had been the first time, and it was excusable even. The actions of a crazed protodemon lost in her own motivations tripping into an occupied area. After talking with Miss Tamashini, it was entirely likely that even that was supposed to be just her and her secretary in an empty gymnasium. It was an accident. The chain of events was disrupted by Sword Witch''s existence. It was all corrected when a seal finally did go up.


    They had their pick of excuses to choose from. Once is an accident, after all. Even twice could be a coincidence. But the demon from the camp-out hadn''t used a seal, either, happy to let in two civilians like it didn''t even matter. Three, if she counted the property''s cute little spirit.


    Now they were on their third time, all back to back, and three times, as they said, was a pattern. Worse, this time, there had been a seal, and nearly two and a half dozen students had been deliberately pulled into it.


    Miss Sada couldn''t help but worry if this was the start of some new trend of behavior in the demons. Had something changed, made them more desperate? If so, it couldn''t have been anything her girls had done that she could think of. It had been over a year since the team''s numbers had changed, and even the issue with Miss Kelly had arguably only weakened them.


    Was this some sort of final push to capitalize on that? No, that didn''t feel like the right answer, either. These attacks weren''t targeted at their weak points, not really. Miss Cho, bless her poor little heart, was never going to be a threat to even a lone Witch. Heavens, Miss Tamashini foresaw her fleeing from Sacred Witch alone!


    The spectral demon could be interpreted as an attempt to exploit Miss Homura''s fears, but its attack pattern was too general. And ultimately, she was fairly sure it wasn''t even a greater demon. Were it not for its relatively specialized ability, it wouldn''t have been able to face the girls at all.


    And now it seemed Mr. Sato had become cursed. But he, too, was not focused on the witches in particular. He coveted his students, themselves. There was the taking of Miss Kelly for some sort of cultural project that had now clearly been cover, but there was no indication he''d harmed her over it. Not before the seal went up, anyway.


    Her further musings were disrupted by the door getting thrown open behind her, the sounds of the busy hallways during the break between classes pouring through it. For all the noise in the halls, however, the two that shoved their way in drowned it all out.


    "Miss Sada," the redhead demanded, "is it true a demon has Ran?!"


    "And Riko," the blonde with her tacked on.


    Sarasa turned toward them both. Natsumi looked furious, ready to break something over someone, or vice versa if necessary. Haru looked scared and her face was etched with worry. Even the bonbons in her tails seemed wilted.


    "Miss Homura, Miss Chiaki," she greeted them when the door blocked the sound out again - it wasn''t an issue, she''d already put a perception filter over the room, and the girls had already been inside it when they started shouting. That didn''t mean she wanted to have to shout over it. "Yes, they are within the seal right now."


    Fire was already at Natsumi''s fingertips. "What are we standing around for?! Let us in!"


    But she held up a hand. "That won''t be necessary, girls. Please, calm down. Besides, I need your help moving your fellow students around and monitoring their states."


    "What do you mean, it''s not necessary?!" Contrary to the redhead''s demanding, enraged tone, Haru was pleading with big, sad puppy eyes. "It''s got Ran and Riko! What if they''re hurt?!"


    "What if they''re overwhelmed?!" Homura came back in with.


    Sarasa knew that each of the girls described the sensation differently, but to her, it was very clear as a part of the room hiccuped diagonally from a parallel purple timeflow next door back to their shared white. She had long since assumed that the discrepancy was simply because the girls lacked the vernacular to describe the experience.


    Even the way she had to phrase it in their language was snipping a lot of the details in favor of broad generalities. For instance, it was less next door and more an adjacent overlaid shadow tucked in a mobius pock-- ... No, no, next door would suffice. By the Council, it was a chore to describe even simple higher dimension concepts in lower dimension languages ...


    Either way, she didn''t so much as look back toward the arrival, instead smiling warmly at the worried girls in front of her. "Ah, here they are now."


    Halfway through her statement, Miss Wakumi and Miss Kelly appeared in the middle of the room. The former was clad in the same linen wrap, green robe and sandals as the other students, while the latter wore a white silk kimono under a red-orange robe. Mr. Sato, the algebra teacher, was slung between them, supported by both of their shoulders, hanging limply in a singed black montsuki and looking twenty years younger than he should have.


    "Riko!" Haru''s squeal was nearly ear-piercing as she darted past Sada.


    "Haru!" the brunette greeted her with an apologetic smile, then before the blonde could completely close the distance, she added, "Please, no tackling! The teacher''s heavy!"


    Even as Haru was obediently stopping short, Natsumi was shouldering her way over and took Sato''s arm off of Ran to pull over her own shoulders, immediately taking nearly all the strain off of Sword Witch. "Ran, are you okay?"


    "Y-yes, thank you," the gunmetal girl blushed. "Riko was able to help me through it."


    "Help!" The scoff that came from Miss Kelly nearly made Sarasa worry one of the fight-sparking tirades Thunder Witch would commonly launch into was about to start, all about how she did so much more than just help. She was pleasantly surprised to be wrong.


    Instead, the brunette continued to support her portion of her teacher''s weight, lessened as it may have been, and grinned back over at Ran. "You should''ve seen her, Red! If Wren hadn''t cheated, she''d have never needed me at all! The protodemon couldn''t hardly touch her, and she just kept kicking him upside the head like he was one of those boxing clowns!"


    That made Miss Homura raise a bewildered eyebrow as she glanced over to the aforementioned witch as if for clarification. "... Boxing clowns ...?"


    Before Ran could consider answering, if she even could, Sarasa stepped forward to get their attention. "Did you say Prince Eirwen was there?"


    "Yeah," Miss Kelly confirmed with a nod. "He''s the one that cursed Mr. Sato and made him attack her. He didn''t do much more after that, though. Talked a bunch of trash at Ran, and when that didn''t work, made her slip on an ice slick, then bolted. He''s long gone now."


    The brunette shifted the teacher with a shrug of one shoulder for emphasis. "Afraid we really had to run Mr. Sato through the ringer, though. Tough old bird." She turned her attention to Miss Chiaki. "He''s gonna need healing and purification. You up to it?"


    The blonde put on her million-watt smile with a V hand sign. "You can count on me!"

 Chapter Twenty-Four

    (24)


    The school''s sports field was filled with the soft thwip of arrows impacting targets and twang of the massive bows releasing them. Despite the repetition, the sounds of the archery club''s practice were no louder than insects in the late afternoon air.


    It was terribly hypnotizing.


    The brunette looked up from her seat at Reina as the council president went through the motions of positioning herself for another shot. She turned sideways, pointed her feet, turned them outward and readied her bow, then drew the arrow back clear past her ear close enough to snap the organ if her hand slipped.


    When she had first seen Reina in the club uniform, she''d made the remark that it actually looked like something someone called Sacred might actually wear. The tall girl had all but physically flinched at that and insisted that it was the uniform of the sport, worn by all members.


    The brunette had kept her peace for a while since, but she was reaching a point where it was break it or fall asleep.


    "Hey, Reina, I don''t think I''ve ever done archery," she started as the taller girl paused in preparing another shot to pay attention to her, "but I thought I had a pretty good understanding of it."


    Tamashini lowered her bow out of the ready position as she tilted her head. "Is there something I can explain?"


    She leaned her elbow on the table she was sitting at while her other hand twirled one of the carbon arrows between her fingers. She tried to keep her tone apologetic. "Well ... aren''t you guys ... kinda bad at this?"


    That made the council president look even more confused. "What are you talking about?"


    She rubbed her head in embarrassment. "I mean, you all take so long to line up your shots, and the target isn''t even that far away. That''s, what, thirty yards?"


    The way Reina furrowed her brows made her look like she was about to take her junior''s head off, but the brunette could tell it was only a look of concentration as she did the conversions in her head. "More or less."


    "And the bigger the bow, the longer range it has, right? That bow would be big for Dakunaito. Surely thirty yards is nothing?"


    The raven-haired girl looked back to her bow in her ungloved hand. "That''s not quite how it works, but you are right to think there must be something you aren''t understanding."


    Reina turned back to the brunette, motioning toward her with the bow. "Kelly, have you never heard of kyudo?"


    She scrunched her nose in her own concentration. "... No ... I don''t think so. Or at least it wasn''t something I ever had explained to me. It''s not just another word for archery?"


    "Archery," Reina explained as she began sighting in her target again, "is a combat style. Speed, accuracy and power are all important. If I wished to do so, I could take a modern compound bow and put a dozen arrows into the middle of that target in the time this takes me to do one. Most of the members could probably do at least three or four, I''d think."


    She went through the entire process again and released another arrow, penetrating the target up to the shaft.


    "So archery is about performance," the brunette summed up. "Alright, I get that. But if the point here isn''t that, what is it?"


    "It''s ..." Reina gathered her thoughts for a moment. "... It''s a form of meditation."


    The brunette felt her gaze going flat, but couldn''t stop it. "How do you go from target practice to meditation?"


    Again, the council president paused, but then motioned for her to stand up. "Come here, I''ll show you." She pulled her glove off and passed it to her. "Here, you''ll want this."


    Once the younger girl had the glove on, she passed her the bow, as well, and guided her to where she would be in line with the target. "In Kyudo, every step is deliberate. It is so slow, not just because we are moving through them, but because we are thinking of them."


    The brunette''s nose wrinkled again. "Is this one of those symbolism things," she asked with unsuppressed disdain.


    "No," Reina immediately answered sharply. She paused again, though, then turned the girl sideways. "If I had to compare it to anything, it probably has more in common with yoga. The exercises have a purpose, an objective. If everything is in order, and you shoot with a pure focus and dedication, hitting the target is not a matter of accuracy, because it cannot miss."


    "Ever?" the younger girl asked as she followed Reina''s guidance to line up her body, starting with the placement of her feet and moving up from there. "That''s a bold claim."


    "Perhaps," the raven-haired girl agreed, "but it''s true." She moved the girl''s hands to the proper places on the bowstring and the grip, and how to hold the arrow. "Now look to the target, make sure you do it with just your head. Everything else should stay put."


    She began guiding the brunette in raising it upward, then drawing the bow as she brought it down toward the target. "Do you feel the way your whole body is holding the bow like this?" Reina ran her hand up the brunette''s arms and across her shoulders, then down her spine. "Your entire being is connected to the weapon. When everything is in alignment, all of your power can flow directly into the arrow. Concentrate on that feeling as you focus on the target."


    And with that, Reina stepped away, not quite back to where the brunette had been standing before. "Now, in the same way you''ve seen me do so, release the arrow."


    The brunette focused on that strange draw-back twist Reina did so smoothly, deciphered the movements, and released the bowstring. The arrow zipped from the bow and buried itself in the target in the field. At the same time, she felt her body release its own tension, as if sighing after a full body stretch.


    She blinked. "... Huh." Not how she expected it to feel.


    Reina stepped back up and held her hand out for the bow, then waited as the younger girl pulled the glove off. "That is why we fire so slowly, Kelly. Each step is important. Hitting the target isn''t. That will happen on its own. We are concerned with perfecting the form."


    "Meditation," the girl nodded slowly as she stepped out of the older girl''s way and back toward the table. "I get it."


    Reina went through an entire shot before she spoke again. "Have you had any luck figuring out Purification? You''ve seen Chiaki and I both do it several times now."


    But the brunette frowned at that as she thought back on each time she''d seen either perform the spells. "No. I don''t think you two do it the same. I get completely different vibes from it."


    The president was halfway through setting up another shot, but paused. "... Vibes?"


    "Yeah," she confirmed. "Haru feels like she''s trying to hug all of the cursed energy at once with light. Yours feels more like watching Red pull weeds, all throttling and stomping. It''s bossy and feels kind of personal."


    Reina lowered her bow entirely and turned to face the brunette. "Nariko," she said, and if the first names were coming out, she was serious, "you make it sound like our Purification, itself, isn''t doing the same thing at all."


    The shorter girl, too, gave that a long moment of thought, considering the possibility. "Maybe it isn''t."


    The raven-haired girl stared at her, then set the bow against the wall and took the seat across from her junior. She steepled her fingers before her as she gathered her words. "Kelly, it doesn''t work like that. Purification is Purification. It all does the same thing."


    But the brunette just gave a dismissive shrug. "I wouldn''t know, boss." She knew that wrinkled the older girl. "I don''t know anything about magic, remember? I''m just telling you what I see."


    The girl that was Sword Witch leaned forward over the table and pushed her finger against its surface. "I know that to cast Shining Lance, I had to focus my mindset to be what drives Haru. It''s flashy and blinding because she wants to be the center of attention. Not out of vanity, but because it means that attention is off of her friends."


    Pay attention to me! The feelings that went through her just before she first cast it flowed through her mind. So intense, so desperate. Nothing in the world mattered more in that instant.


    "For Flame Witch''s Fireball," she continued, "I had to get worked up about the battle, itself. About what I was fighting for, what was on the line. It wasn''t just about fighting or proving myself able to overcome. I knew I was stronger, that someone else was weaker, and I couldn''t tolerate losing when it was so important to win."


    I''ll take it from here. So boldly she''d spoken those words. It still burned her up inside thinking about how it felt when she realized, for all her power, she might not. What it would have cost Ran. The impact it would have had on Haru to lose her best friend again, and far more permanently.


    She pushed the feeling aside as she sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. "I haven''t learned how to cast a barrier yet, but I''ve learned a lot about Shield Witch and why hers are so strong. She''s so scared of hurting someone else that I''ve been tempted to ask if she''s had some sort of traumatic experience, but didn''t want to be too nosy. Still, nothing is more important to her than protecting others. Rather than a wall, she''s more like a torrent. Her focus pushes so much energy out that nothing can push through."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I will save you! Ran''s words to a protodemon echoed in the brunette''s mind. So full of determination.


    Still, the girl sighed and gave a meaningless wave of her hand. "On the other hand, when she can''t focus, all that energy gets diverted and pushed off. She could cut steel with her focus, but without it, she just gets washed away."


    Reina had listened quietly as the girl went through each of the other witches. Only when she finished did the elder witch speak. "You''re describing them like they''re elements."


    "Aren''t they?" the girl returned with a raised eyebrow. "Aren''t we all? All five of us are almost completely defined by our element and how we push and pull against it."


    The older girl kept her face well-disciplined. "Then what of you?" she asked. "You have attempted to channel your own magic several times to varied success, and pull from it automatically with your demonic weapons. Has this given you any insight into yourself?"


    She was quiet for longer on that one, even looking out over the archery field as she mulled the question over.


    "That''s harder to say," the brunette finally answered. "To me, it''s just normal behavior, and it''s hard to tell where I end and the magic starts, if the two are separate at all. After all, you''re all constantly telling me how much I''m exactly like Nariko."


    She closed her eyes, lowering her head as she cupped her chin. "I could give descriptions of myself. I''m impulsive. An adrenaline junkie. Once I see a route forward, I take it with little consideration for alternatives. All could be aspects of lightning. But every time I use my magic, none of that enters my mind. I just do it. It''s more like an act of will than anything. I push the mana in the direction I want it to go, and that''s it."


    The brunette frowned at that point. "Given what that did to my ankle on the camping trip, though, and how that foil exploded, I''m pretty sure I''m doing it wrong. That reckless discharge of lightning, too. It was cool and all, but was more just opening a fire hose than anything constructive."


    Reina''s gaze was as intense as heat rays with her fingers folded together in front of her mouth. "What is the difference between when you use your mana directly and when you cast one of our spells?"


    She felt like she was answering under that imperious gaze almost before she could choose to do so. "Casting spells feels like trying to find the combination to a safe, except different combinations take me to different safes. Each combination is an exact state of mind, then once I find it, I get squeezed into it, like my mind is forced to conform to the spell, and then gets released after the spell goes off."


    It was Reina''s turn to sit back, her gaze no longer focused on the brunette as she mulled the words over. "How odd. I had expected it to be more like my Shadow Casting."


    Shadowcast was the actual name of Sacred Witch''s most flexible spell, which allowed her to summon nearly any other effect she desired, including elements usually specific to other Witches. It was what she had used to call down lightning on the protodemon created from the Homura Family armor.


    "What''s it like?" the brunette ventured.


    "Almost exactly the opposite of what you described," the council president answered honestly. "I will it, and the mana obeys. It does not alter me in any way I am aware."


    But the brunette just nodded confidently at the description. It backed up her own suspicions. "Honestly, that checks with the impression I get of your magic," she said. "It''s very top-down." She tilted her head and looked to the ceiling of the deck the club shot from. "I wonder if all darkness-element mana is like that, or if it''s more just you."


    Reina''s eyes narrowed. "You''re trying to lead me, Kelly. I don''t like it when people do that."


    The thoughtful expression evaporated into a sheepish grin. "Ehehe, sorry, sorry!" she apologized, her hands raised. "It''s just, you obviously want to ask, but you''re putting it off! I wasn''t trying to lead you, so much as I was trying to give you an opening!"


    The older girl went silent at that for a long, heavy moment, her eyes still narrowed at the witch across from her as if she were considering the sentencing for her crime.


    And finally, it broke as she leaned back again, eyes closed as if she were unbothered by the subject. Above it. "Fine. Kelly, you''ve described how you think every Witch''s powers work except my own, content to bandy about the bush. You clearly think you know something insightful about them. Please, share."


    Despite being phrased like a request, it felt like it had the weight of an order.


    "You''re a Ruler," she answered. "Everything you touch bows to your command. Every club you join, every group you''re in, every room you enter. You''re even doing it right now, while you''re talking to me."


    Reina recoiled almost as if she''d struck her. "I didn''t--"


    But the brunette shook her head. "Natsumi can''t forget to be strong. Ran can''t forget to be smart. Haru can''t forget to feel what others are feeling." She met her senior''s eyes. "Red pointed that out to me, and she''s right. They can''t choose not to do it. There''s no toggle for it. It''s always on." And then, in a moment of introspection, her gaze drifted past the older girl. "Even I may really have spent my whole life Analyzing, even if I don''t have any awareness of it, and I''m only a witch by proxy."


    The raven-haired girl seemed to grasp hold of that and regathered herself. "Kelly, my Witch ability is--"


    But she cut her off. "Precognition, I know." She waved her hand back and forth in front of her face. "But if it weren''t for that, I''d really say your passive is the power of Command. It would make way more sense, too. All of our passives are constant throughout our daily lives. They never stop, for better or worse. But your Precognition is spotty and focused almost entirely on important single events. If this were a story, I''d say it behaves more like a narrative gimmick than a proper passive."


    The brunette pushed her finger to the table again. "But if your passive is actually Command, everything makes sense. You''re a royal in every space you walk into whether it makes any sense or not. Like the Fencing club. Tora doesn''t treat you like a Captain, or even Council President. He stands next to you like you''re a damned Queen. And Cho straight up worships you like a goddess."


    Reina started to protest again, but she cut her off once more.


    "No, Reina, I''m not exaggerating. You just don''t see it because it''s normal to you. But I''m telling you, to everyone else, it''s blatantly obvious even if they don''t associate it with magic. You''re in charge. You''re always in charge. It takes a powerful will even to stand up to you, and you can usually get your way with as little as a glare you don''t even realize you''re giving."


    "Kelly. Let. Me. Speak."


    She opened her mouth, but even though she had intended to give assent, Reina''s tone of voice kept so much as a sound from leaving her throat for a heartbeat and a half.


    Whether this was noticed or not by Tamashini wasn''t really clear, but the older girl took the silence to catch up, herself, then gave a frustrated sigh as she rubbed her face with one hand.


    "Again, my passive ability is Precognition, not this Command thing you''ve come up with," she finally replied. "But if it were, what would that have to do with my magic?"


    The brunette still had to swallow to clear her throat before she could answer. "You''re a Ruler," she repeated, and did her best to ignore the growing glow of a glare in her team leader''s eyes. "Everything you touch bows to your command. Everything. That includes your magic." She tried a different tactic. "Have you seen how you transform?"


    The raven girl''s furrowed brow said that she hadn''t, or at least that she wasn''t making the connection. "What does that have to do with anything?"


    In a contrary expression, the brunette''s face lifted in surprise. "... You really don''t--" As the glare started coming back to Reina''s face, she cleared her throat and went back to answering the question.


    "The magic comes to you, tries to dance with you, to court you. But at every turn, you stamp it down, drag it along with you or otherwise force your will on it, and ultimately, it becomes your outfit, the last stray bit that doesn''t directly serve you stomped out beneath your feet. It''s quite dramatic."


    "Our transformations shouldn''t be taken so literally, Kelly," Reina advised, almost as if to ward off an accusation. "Yours is literally just a wall of golden light you cut through."


    "Mine''s artificial," she was immediately ready to remind the president. "I don''t have a transformation. That''s half the issue I''ve been having since I woke up here. That''s what the wall of light conceals, that I''m not doing some complicated dance with my mana like the rest of you. If I did, I''d have my own spells, and wouldn''t have to be trying to study everyone else''s like I''m stuck in magical girl remedial classes."


    "All the more reason you shouldn''t be jumping to conclusions," the older girl insisted. "What do any of our transformations have to do with our powers?"


    This time, the brunette gave her the full-on, Are you kidding me? face. "Uh, everything? Haru dances and ends in an idol pose because she''s cheering on her friends. Natsumi literally burns everything around her and ends in a fake combat pose because she''s all about the conflict. If Ran''s outfit wasn''t made of cloth, she''d look like she was armoring up." And she pointed at the raven-haired girl as she finished. "And you straight up go full dominatrix to your own magic."


    "You''re seeing theming and confusing it for deeper meaning." Reina looked past the brunette to the entrance to the training field as tension left her face with the prospect of a distraction. "Ah, Chiaki, welcome."


    "Hiya, Reina," the blonde girl chirped as she approached. "Hey, Riko! Having fun throwing sticks at inanimate circles?"


    The brunette stood to greet her friend. "It''s surprisingly spiritual," she answered. "All about lining your whole body up just right so that everything follows through."


    "Eh, I''ll stick with my beanbag toss," Haru cheekily replied as she underhanded a plastic-wrapped blackberry pastry to Reina, who effortlessly caught it. Then she poked her friend in the chest. "And it doesn''t sound very helpful to your airsoft skills, either."


    She spared a crooked grin; it was obvious Haru had seen the tension coming in and was deliberately making it as difficult as possible to return to the topic. "No, I don''t think it would be." She glanced to Reina, as well, her grin widening to full. "Don''t suppose there''s a ninjitsu club in this school?"


    "Unfortunately, no," the council president confirmed without sharing the expression, despite clearly going with the joke. "I recall an application for one last year, but it got turned down for wanting to put white pepper flour in hollowed egg shells and climb structures without safety gear."


    "Well, maybe you can bring it up with Sarasa," Haru suggested to the brunette. "She''s out of her meeting and asked me to send you her way."


    "Ah, right," she replied, then turned to Reina. "Thanks for the kyudo lesson."


    The older girl raised her hand in a wave. "Any time, Kelly. You''re a surprisingly good listener."


    Haru giggled while she feigned an expression of offense, but then the blonde pulled her attention again. "Also, I''m heading out. I''m meeting my family at the train station. I won''t see you again until after the weekend."


    "I''ll try to hold myself together," the brunette joked, earning a light jab in the arm from the blonde.


    "I''m an empath, Riko. I know you''re going to miss me."


    * * *


    After the two girls left, Reina picked up her bow again, but only stared down at it in her hand. She knew that her passive ability was Precognition. It had shown itself all her life, and Witches didn''t have two passive abilities. Still, Nariko''s words hung in her mind.


    Ruler. The power of Command.


    Something about them resonated with her, making sense somewhere deep down she couldn''t quite trace even if they were impossible. And Nariko had made good arguments, she could admit that. In fact, that it made so much sense only increased the sense of disturbance she felt thinking about it.


    "But it''s good that it''s impossible," she muttered to her bow, as if it would keep her secret. "I''m not fit to rule."


    This, too, struck some deep chord buried inside her, a far more painful one. She knew it to be unquestionable truth. Though as much as she scoured for the memories that must have been attached to that string, she couldn''t quite recall why she wasn''t fit, or why the thought hurt so much.


    She went over the ways she served her classmates in her mind instead. As Council President, as Club Captain, as the head of the Witches. She was a leader, sure, but she told herself she wasn''t a ruler. She was the servant, not the other way around, and that was the way it was meant to be.


    The old adage came to her mind in Nariko''s voice, that the best person to be in a position of power is the one who doesn''t want it. But that pulled on that injured string, too.


    "But Kelly," she said, as if the girl were still there instead of her talking to her bow, "I''m not that person. Some part of me, I''m sure, wants it too badly ..."

 Chapter Twenty-Five

    (25)


    "Miss Kelly."


    The white-haired history teacher greeted her most complicated charge with a warm smile and cheerful demeanor. "Come in, come in." She was messing with a pot on a single burner in the corner of her desk in the teacher''s lounge. "I always put on some tea after a staff meeting, helps me wind down. Have a seat, I''ll pour you a cup."


    "You know, you could just say you wanted to ask me a bunch of questions," Nariko sarcastically quipped back as she pulled over a chair as instructed. "I don''t mind. And we''ve got the whole trip home to do it."


    But Sarasa waved that off. "Oh, let me have my posturing. Besides, you shouldn''t be so eager to rush things. Taking the time to go through the motions is important, too."


    "Yes, ma''am."


    She decided to ignore the indulging saccharine of the girl''s response, recognizing it as more sarcasm. "Did you and Miss Tamashini do anything fun while I kept you waiting?"


    "She explained Kyudo to me," the girl replied, "and we talked about the nature of our magic."


    Miss Sada placed a steaming cup in front of Nariko. "Make any grand discoveries?"


    Her student mulled over her words. "Kyudo is a very Reina hobby," she concluded. "It figures Sacred Witch would find something that combines athletic skill with pseudo-religious philosophy."


    "There is something to be said for keeping the mind and body in order," Sarasa replied easily as she sat down and crossed one long leg over the other. "Humans are capable of their greatest feats when those two aspects are focused and in sync."


    But Nariko shook her head. "I wasn''t trying to insult it like that. I just mean that, when I realized what it was, I got a heavy, Of course, sentiment that hit me."


    "Mmm, and the magic? Close to any more breakthroughs that''ll shake the foundations of our understanding?"


    She just grinned back at the flat stare she got for that. At the very least, despite what was happening with her, Miss Kelly remained an open book that was easy to read. That expression very loudly asked, What do you mean, our understanding?


    It was fun, she was discovering, to play the role while someone knew she was full of it.


    "Nothing quite so earth-shattering, I''m sure," Nariko answered the question anyway. "More confirmation of what I''ve already been suspecting than anything new. I tried to share my insights with Tamashini, but she acted like how Nat does when I tell her she should be punching stuff."


    "Indignant and violent?"


    The girl scoffed. "More like she just couldn''t process it. Even simple things that are incredibly obvious." She tapped the side of the cup with her index finger thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, Haru does it, too. It''s not as obvious because she makes sure to nod along, but then she''ll turn around and do something that makes it plain it went in one ear and out the other."


    "What of Miss Wakumi?"


    At that, Nariko shook her head again. "I haven''t had anything of that nature to bring up with her, so I couldn''t say. Three out of four, though, makes me pretty sure she''d do the same. It seems something to do with the Witches, themselves. Something''s wrong with them."


    Sada made an effort to school her expression at that, showing that she took the notion of something being wrong with her girls seriously. "Something that doesn''t apply to you?"


    "It might have applied to Thunder Witch," Nariko admitted, "but maybe I''m exempt because it''s something to do with their minds and not their bodies." But then she shrugged. "Of course, if there''s something that I''m being blocked from realizing, there''s no real way for me to know, is there? It just wouldn''t make any sense to me, and I''d reject it out of hand and move on, just like them."


    The teacher tilted her head to one side. "Maybe you''re just suggesting things contrary to their nature? While it would admittedly be a very Nariko thing to do, you can''t just come in and demand an entire established team do things the way you think would be better."


    But again, Nariko shook her head. "No, aside from being blunt in an attempt to get it through to Flame Witch, I haven''t tried telling them to do anything. I''ve just mentioned observations. They''re all smart, clever girls, Miss Sada. Even if it wasn''t to their tastes, they should at least be able to understand the words coming out of my mouth. Tamashini spends every day of her life in charge of something. There''s no way she doesn''t understand how much she''s responsible for. But point it out to her, and she just locks down like she''s under siege."


    Sarasa took a sip of her tea, then looked down into it as she rotated her cup in her hand. She learned early on that her girls, like most humans, appreciated occasional silent moments like that for their thoughts to settle. It was a finicky preference, though. Too long, and it felt awkward. Too short, and it felt rushed. She''d found little fidgets like this helped pace for just the right amount of time.


    "Well, you can''t force knowledge on others, you know," she finally said, still looking down into her cup. "If they aren''t ready to hear something, they won''t. That''s just too often the simple truth."


    But then Sada leaned forward over the table between them, a smile playing on her lips as she forced the girl to lock eyes with her. "The more important question is, how much have you learned, hmm?"


    Nariko reflexively pulled back away from her at the lunge, but regathered herself with a cough off to the side. Sarasa didn''t like that whatever had happened to the girl had left her so easily unnerved by her, but she had to admit it was a little fun.


    The girl settled herself back in and actually repeated Sarasa''s own actions with her mug as she considered her response. This Nariko was much more careful with her words, she''d noticed. There was an eagerness to show off a list of things she''d puzzled out, somewhat because the mentor was inducing it, but to this version of the girl, it was far more important to get it right.


    "... Not a lot, actually, if I''m being honest," the child finally answered. "I''ve got a lot of suspicions, a lot of conclusions, but not really a lot of solid facts. Still, I feel like I''m building a proper understanding of this world a piece at a time."


    Sarasa allowed herself to arch one fine, white eyebrow. "What an odd choice of words for someone trying to be so careful with them, Miss Kelly. Whyever would you speak of the whole world like that?"


    The girl dismissed that with her hand, however. "I wasn''t saying that this is a different world from my own," she explained, "though it could be. Reina and I had previously discussed the possibility as an explanation for why I match Nariko so well."


    "And why you reacted to Miss Tamashini the way you did when you first met her, I''d imagine?"


    Nariko nodded in confirmation. "I still lean toward the possibility, if I''m being honest, but it''s one of those things without any solid facts. I certainly won''t lose any sleep if I turn out to be wrong."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Now this was getting interesting. Sarasa put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her knuckles as she watched her charge even more closely. "Alright, Miss Kelly, I''ll bite. Why aren''t we your world?"


    The girl raised her eyes to her, a stern gaze that questioned if she''d maneuvered wrong and stepped in a trap. Such suspicion was a pity, truly. She wished all of the girls would understand that no matter what conclusions any of them drew, or what decisions they made, it wouldn''t change how she cared for them.


    This topic clearly required more intensive reviewing than the last, and rather than sufficing with the mug, Nariko stood and began to pace as she drummed her fingers against the side of the ceramic.


    "It''s all too fake," Nariko finally declared with force, and Miss Sada''s other eyebrow joined the first.


    "Fake?"


    But the girl shook her head and began pacing the other direction, second-guessing herself. "No. No, not fake. Artificial."


    The history teacher watched her go back and forth like a cat watching a string. "I confess even I am having a bit of trouble following that scant level of description, dear."


    Nariko finally stopped and turned back toward her fully, motioning with the hand not holding the tea. "Plastic. Have you ever been in a room where everything''s covered in plastic sheeting? Or smelled the air out of plastic tubing? That''s what it''s like. It''s like the whole world smells like plastic."


    Oh, by the Council, was this another one of those things with human 4D language trying to describe higher dimension concepts? Well, at least she wasn''t the one that had to come up with the metaphors this time ...


    Instead of saying anything to those thoughts, Sada raised her other hand to tuck it under the other part of her chin so she was fully leaning over the table. "You''re smelling plastic now, are you?"


    "You know what I mean, Miss Sada," the girl insisted, and it was accusatory, not just a figure of speech. "I know you know what I mean."


    "Maybe I do, maybe I don''t," the woman replied. "I''m just trying to help you get your thoughts in order, dear. What about the whole of the world smells like plastic?"


    Nariko forced herself to regather her wits with a deep sigh, then returned to her seat. She made a vague box over the table with her hands. "When you see something that''s perfectly molded so it looks just like the real thing, like a log wall, but then you notice every other log looks exactly the same and you can''t stop yourself from seeing it every time you look at the wall from then on. Or how, no matter how accurate an air freshener scent is to what it''s supposed to be, there''s always this constant chemical undertone that keeps you from fooling yourself into thinking you''re actually smelling the real thing."


    "Soooo," Sarasa ventured, "you''re noticing things that are ... off?"


    "Not off," the brunette shook her head. "I''m not seeing any cats darting by me twice or nonsense like that."


    The teacher grinned. "I could do that for you if it would make you feel better."


    Aside from a quick glare, Nariko completely ignored that. "Like ..." She swirled her hand around as she fished for an example. "Our families. Aren''t all our families just a little too perfect? No strife in the home, no financial troubles, all of us are from at least middle class households or better, those of us with siblings get along great with them ..."


    Sarasa frowned critically. "Most people would be grateful for such fortune, Miss Kelly."


    She could see the words start to form on the girl''s lips. And I am, she was about to say, but stopped herself.


    "And I''m sure Nariko is," the brunette replied instead. "It just seems to beat the odds that all of us are so well off with such stable homes. And just so happen to always have someone in the group with access to whatever resource we need."


    The frown was still there, but less intense. "But if this were the only thing, you''d call it a happy coincidence, I''d assume."


    "Sure," Nariko answered noncommittally. "But there''s tons of other things, too. Like how the demons don''t take us seriously, or vice versa. Both sides treat this whole literal shadow war like it''s a slightly malicious after school club."


    "Dakunaito would give you a paddling for that," Sarasa half-jested.


    "No, Dakunaito takes it all more seriously than anyone else except maybe Reina," Kelly countered. "Now, Prince Eirwen on the other hand ..."


    The teacher nodded sagely. "That boy does seem to do a great deal of waffling when it comes to you girls. I believe the technical term is smitten."


    But Sword Witch was unintentionally winding up a curve ball. "Nevermind that! Miss Sada, how is it that nobody has apparently put two and two together and figured out he''s running around our school as Jack?!"


    This time, it was completely genuine when both of Sarasa''s eyes widened. She even sat up straighter. "The more pertinent question is how did you figure it out?"


    The seeming bite of the question caught Nariko so off-guard that she froze up for a moment, trying to figure out if she had been insulted. After a long pause, she decided to answer it directly. "He doesn''t exactly go around and hide it. They sound alike, they have the same ... I dunno, presence? I don''t know how to describe it, but it''s painfully obvious Jack and Wren are the same person. And if you knew, why didn''t you tell any of us?"


    Sarasa sighed and relaxed her shoulders. "Miss Kelly, he''s using a perception filter, just like you girls do. You shouldn''t be able to tell. I can because I see in dimensions natives to this realm cannot, but even if I told you directly, none of you would be capable of accepting it."


    "So the crown prince of the entire demon empire is just hanging out around us and countless innocents, and you''re just ... okay with that?!"


    It was the teacher''s turn to shake her head. "My people believe strongly, Miss Kelly, that even the darkest souls deserve a chance to turn things around, and Eirwen is still young. He has never made any move to use his persona as Jack for any malicious purpose, and so long as that remains the case, I intend to permit him to do so unmolested." She shrugged. "It wouldn''t be a bad thing at all for the next demon emperor to have a more sympathetic understanding of humanity, either."


    "But your mind wiping tricks don''t work on demons, right?"


    At that, Sarasa allowed herself a knowing grin. "If you''re asking if he remembers everything I''ve ever wiped from Jack, I''m afraid he does. But he sticks to the act, so I stick to mine. If he broke it, I''d have to take more extreme measures, but so far, he''s been a good boy."


    She admired the girl''s self-control. She knew Nariko suppressed a shudder at her implication, but it never made it to her face.


    "Fine, next thing." Nariko turned to face her with a demanding expression. "Where the hell are we?"


    Ah, there went her eyebrows again. "The ... teacher''s lounge?" she guessed. "Also, please watch your language. I have enough trouble curbing Miss Homura."


    The girl shook her head. "I mean geographically!" Fortunately, she didn''t wait long for an answer. "Superficially, anyone would say Japan."


    "And let me guess," Sada went with instead, "it doesn''t feel right to you."


    "Nothing feels right," she reminded the history teacher, "but I don''t need feelings for this one. It''s the language. Miss Sada, I''ve seen Japanese."


    "You''ve seen it?"


    Nariko apparently interpreted the question of her phrasing to be one of her fluency, as she made a face and gave her hand a wiggle. "Eh, honestly, I feel like my Middle Eastern languages were better as secondary languages go," she admitted, but then firmed up her expression. "But I''m pretty sure I spent enough time in Tokyo to be able to muddle my way through a menu or such."


    The girl pulled a sheet of paper out of a printer and grabbed a loose pen, then quickly wrote out several things on it. Cheeseburger. Milkshake. Ramen. Sushi. She slapped the paper back on the table between them and aggressively stabbed it with her index finger.


    "This is not Japanese. I don''t know what it is, but I''ve never seen it before I woke up as Nariko, I''m sure of that."


    Sarasa gave a bemused sound at that. "Surely you aren''t trying to say it''s not a real language."


    "I''m not," she confirmed. "I''m no polyglot. It could be an older language or some regional dialect, I don''t know. I just know it''s not modern Japanese."


    "You''ve said you aren''t particularly good at it," the teacher offered in alternative. "As Nariko''s native language that you''ve inherited, perhaps it just looks different to her eyes? Perhaps you learned groups of squiggles to represent what you wanted, but she sees them as individual symbols."


    Nariko gave a relenting sigh as she lowered her head. "That''s a possibility, I''ll admit. Again, I don''t really have much of anything I can call a solid fact. If you keep looking at them individually, of course you can find excuses to hand wave them."


    She rallied herself, though, and took on a determined face again. "But fine! For sake of argument, let''s assume this is Japan."


    Sarasa smirked at that. "Sure, let''s," she replied sarcastically, but was, again, ignored.


    "Indiana Jones, I get. It''s no shocker a series like that would be known in Japan," Nariko pushed, "but what are the odds that Nariko''s sister would have any idea who Carmen Sandiego is?"


    The teacher put on an exaggerated thinking expression as she made a show of mulling that one over. "Hrm, nope, you got me there, I''ve got nothing for that one." She let that sit for a moment, then her face lit up as she slapped the table. "Oh, I''ve got it! Your dad''s an American! We can blame it on him! He probably introduced it to you girls!"


    Nariko''s gazed reply was as flat as a two-dimensional plane. "Thank you, Miss Sada. I''m so glad you''re taking this all so very seriously."


    "My dear, sweet child," Sarasa replied with a far more sincere tone, "if I acted like I took it seriously, you might leave here with the impression you were on to something, and how irresponsible of me would that be?"


    The girl was in the middle of formulating a reply when the door to the teacher''s lounge was slammed open. Reina stood there in her archery uniform, looking as if she''d run across the entire campus without stopping to reach them.


    The council president took only two deep breaths before forcing herself to speak. "A premonition," she insisted. "Chiaki''s train. Everyone on it is in danger!"

 Chapter Twenty-Six

    (26)


    "Attention, passengers. Thank you for choosing the 506 engine today. As many of you may know, after over seventy years of passenger service, this signature of regional travel will be retiring at the end of the month, making this one of its final trips across the plains. From businessmen to newlyweds, families to runaways, the 506 has been the courier of hearts and drives for generations!"


    The announcement continued over the car speakers, going on to describe how it would be moved to a museum after its retirement, while the passengers, themselves, filed in to store their bags and take their seats.


    Haru had always enjoyed riding long-distance trains like this. Unlike the cramped cars of anything for shuttling around the city, full of grumpy, miserable people trying their hardest to be blind to everything around them, these were laid out more like an airplane. Everyone with a ticket had a seat, and with the three of them, she and her parents had half a row all to themselves.


    "Put my bag overhead for me, would you, dear?" Hisako, Haru''s mother, offered the item to her father.


    "Of course," Masao agreed immediately, taking it in one hand before turning to his daughter. "Give me yours, too, Haru."


    She immediately obliged, of course. "Thanks, Dad!"


    He just chuckled. "Not much of a choice in the matter, you''re both too short! Better go ahead and tuck into the window seat if you want it."


    "Aww, you know I like sitting between you and Mom!"


    Between Haru and her best friend, most people obviously mistook her for the one that was only half-Asian. It wasn''t hard to guess why. She''d inherited her mother''s figure and thick, easily grown hair, but managed to snag her father''s color palette. Not his six feet of height, though. Pity. It was fun to imagine herself towering over even Reina, like some sort of miniature giant Haru.


    While it was generally accepted, even by the families, themselves, that there must have been a Westerner somewhere up both trees, the culprit had been well-hidden. Which probably meant some great grandma had been involved in a daring tryst. Haru always thought that was a story she''d love to hear, but the families disagreed.


    Still, she wouldn''t trade the parents she had for anything, even if it meant she came out looking like a lopsided potato. She never, ever doubted their love for her or for each other. That''s why she liked to sit between them. To her senses, it was like being wrapped on both sides in a warm, fluffy blanket. She was looking immensely forward to wriggling down into her seat, pulling an actual travel blanket up over her, and just basking in their presence for a couple hours.


    Fetching the blanket and opening it up meant her parents were already in their chairs before she''d actually put her own butt down. She was halfway through that last step when an incomprehensible malice crashed over her like a wave. The sensation froze her in place as its rancid waters twisted through her stomach.


    Almost silent in the general noise of settling passengers and the continuing speech from the intercom, the doors sealed shut.


    "Again, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for joining us during this time of transition. As an expression of our gratitude, please sit back, relax, feel free to ask a concierge for complimentary drinks and snacks, partake of the in-car entertainment, and enjoy the ride for the rest of eternity."


    The train, having already started moving, shifted into a higher gear. The sudden jolt shook Haru into nearly toppling as her senses returned to her.


    Her father grabbed her arm to brace her, radiating concern. "Haru? Are you alright?"


    A seal. They were in a seal. That meant a demon had hijacked the train. Was the seal covering the entire thing, or just a few cars? She had to find out. Not just for her parents. She couldn''t let all of these innocent people stay in so much danger, even if they didn''t realize they were in it.


    She forced herself to put on a happy face, grateful that her parents weren''t empaths, too. "Ah, yeah, I, uh, just forgot to go to the bathroom before boarding." Haru moved to start stepping over her father''s legs to get out. "I''ll just slip out and use the train''s--"


    A hand came down on her shoulder, firm but irresistible as it forced her back down into her seat. When she looked up to see who''d done it, she froze again.


    "Siddown, doll."


    ... Haru always thought that if she ever met a mobster, they''d be the Italian Gorilla type. Big, brutish, a fedora half beaten to death over a greasy mop of hair. This guy, though, he was clean shaven with a nice chin. His nose was sharp and his eyes were piercing, but his hair was well-groomed, trimmed and in some sort of a cross between a military buzz on the sides and a corporate comb-over on top.


    The man had broad shoulders, but a slim body, emphasized by his dark blue three-piece herringbone suit completed with a bold red tie. He apparently had at least some semblance of manners, as he had his bowler cap off and under one arm.


    Something about him made her heart race for a moment, which was strange enough to snap her out of it. After all, this man was easily twice her age, and that was definitely something she wasn''t into.


    ... That and there was the whole fact that there were no emotions coming from him at all, which meant he was a construct summoned by the demon, not an actual person. Yeah, that was totally what was the bigger red flag and absolutely registered to her mind first.


    And finally, what he called her clicked. "What?"


    He looked right into her eyes, and her heart hopped again. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn''t place it, like a face she''d seen in an old movie years ago or something.


    "You''re no can house hoofer, kitten," he told her, and she really wished he had emotions for her to read, because his words were nonsense. "You don''t need to be rushing out to shake your gams the moment a stage opens up." He firmly reasserted his grip on her shoulder. "You just sit down, put your dogs up, and I''ll let you know when it''s showtime, savvy?"


    Well, at least she got one message loud and clear: He knew what she had been trying to do. Or at least suspected the bathroom was an excuse for something else. Constructs could be tricky like that. They could just be background NPCs, waffling around on oblivious autopilot, or they could be as intelligent as the demon that created them.


    "Okay," she submitted, nodding as she eased back down into her seat.


    "Good girl," he praised nonchalantly and headed on down the aisle.


    "Wow, they''re really going all out for this finale party," Haru''s father marveled, rubbernecking to follow what was going on. "Those costumes are great! And did you hear the way he talked?"


    Haru poked her head up over her seat again at that. Sure enough, he wasn''t the only construct. There were three more, a small-framed Chinese martial artist with a cold stare, a cowboy straight from the wild west, and a bare-chested yakuza who would be topless if it weren''t for his long coat.


    Behind her, her mother wasn''t nearly as impressed. "I don''t like the way he was talking to Haru. He acted entirely too familiar!"


    "Oh, it''s just the act," her father reassured his wife. "That''s how they talked back then! He''s just engaging with passengers!"


    Toward the back of the car, the yakuza was trying to get an old man to cooperate, but she could tell without even looking at him that he was the obstinate sort. This was made worse by the fact that the construct was apparently trying to relay what he wanted entirely through shoving and aggressive gestures.


    ... She had the feeling that fifty years ago, maybe the two of them wouldn''t have been so different.


    The struggle turned violent when the yakuza snapped and slammed his fist into the old man''s chest. The impact sent him sprawling back into an old woman and a middle-aged woman that were probably his family.


    The entire car was caught in a collective breath of stunned silence as everyone processed the shocking behavior. The old man gasped and coughed in the arms of his family. The yakuza exhaled.


    The train rattled over a bump, shifting everyone within the car.


    Shouts of outrage and indignation began welling up as men and an occasional woman pushed to their feet, fists balled and raised, but the constructs were faster. The cowboy pulled his revolver in an instant quick draw and put two .45s into an unoccupied seat cushion. The gangster wasn''t far behind him with a 1911, but the uprising had already been put to the noose.


    It was one thing to dogpile an unarmed man, but a lot fewer people were willing to risk being the first ones to get shot.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The martial artist didn''t draw any weapon, he just stood a little straighter and arched an eyebrow.


    "You''ll have to excuse my pal," the gangster finally said after the car''s occupants had settled back into an uneasy silence. "He clams up pretty tight, but he goes off the track in a New York minute. Let''s all avoid setting off the soup man, eh?"


    He moved over to an empty seat where he could lift himself up and sit on the back while propping his foot up on the actual cushion, though he kept his pistol raised the whole time.


    "Now, none of you want to be fitted for a wooden kimono, and none of us want to fill you with daylight, so I''m going to be straight with you maroons, right from the mill. These cats and I, we''re just brunos for the big cheese up at the head of this rattler, but we''re not hatchet men. Any dicks among you have probably puzzled out this ride''s become a bit of a clip joint, and you''ve all been caught in the graft. Thing about a right graft, though, is it needs its saps."


    He motioned with his gun toward the other constructs. "Think of us as bulls for the world''s ritziest caboose. We''re just here to make sure none of you chumps try and make beef. Dip the bill, light a butt, neck a chippy, whatever you need to do to relax and enjoy yourselves."


    The gangster dug around inside his jacket until he came out with a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. "Just keep your heads shut and this''ll all be copacetic," he finished as he then patted down a lighter. With a puff, he concluded with, "That''s about the crop, anyway."


    He started to push himself off, but then paused. "Oh! Before I forget, in case any of you wise heads get it in your noodle that you can get the bulge on the squint-eyed daisy just because he''s not packing heat," and he motioned over to the martial artist, "I hear he''s a real swell pug."


    Confusion bubbled from the crowd in the wake of the gangster''s speech. At least Haru could take comfort in the fact that it clearly wasn''t just her that couldn''t understand what he was saying. She got the general idea, but it was like translating a foreign language.


    The cowboy gave a put-upon sigh and holstered his revolver, then raised his voice to make himself clearly heard to the entire car. "He said we ain''t here ta put you under, we''re just here ta keep the peace. Everybody keep yer heads on straight an'' nobody gets hurt. Ya get gruff, you eat gravel, simple as."


    The gangster sighed, too, but tucked his gun back into his jacket as he came over. "That is not everything I said."


    "''Was, too," he argued. "You just waggled yer jaw too long gettin'' it out."


    The gangster stomped away for a pace in frustration before turning back toward his fellow construct. He motioned powerfully with his hands, his middle fingers and thumbs touching in rings. "It''s called style! Pizzazz! Presentation!"


    "It''s called caterwaulin''."


    The cowboy had a point, but Haru thought she still liked the gangster better. Even if she couldn''t sense their emotions, the gangster''s eyes were hard, but focused. There was something darker in the eyes of the cowboy, and the martial artist, too. The yakuza''s eyes were full of fire and only ranged from smoldering to inferno. In fact, they were a lot like Natsumi''s eyes. But just the thought of coming face to face with whoever the cowboy or martial artist were based on sent a chill down her spine.


    Apparently, their bickering gave some of the passengers the time to gather their wits, and Haru couldn''t help but feel ice in her stomach as several of the men stood up and made their way toward what they thought were just normal people in costumes.


    The constructs just watched them, only moving to line up opposite them.


    The man at the front of the passengers looked behind him at those having his back, and then at the projections of demonic energy in front of him. "What if we don''t? What if we decide we don''t want to play whatever game you''re up to?"


    The cowboy rested his hand on his revolver again, which he''d reloaded during the gangster''s speech. "Take a guess, slicker, an'' then sit back down like you been told."


    But the man scoffed. "What do you have, six bullets? Even if every shot kills one of us, which it won''t, we''re just going to rip you apart when you run out."


    The cowboy chewed his tongue for a moment, like he was mulling the idea over, then pulled the revolver out and popped the cylinder, making a show of counting them. "Yup, boy''s got a point. By my count, I''ve got four Smiths an'' a couple Wesson''s." He slapped his thigh dramatically as he raised his voice in faux excitement. "By dawg, that must be why they call it a six-shooter!"


    He elbowed the gangster without looking at him. "How ''bout you?"


    The gangster, too, makes a show of considering the crowd, running a hand across his chin. "Seven plus one, last I checked."


    The look on the cowboy''s face hung there stiffly for a moment before it really started to collapse, and he slowly turned his head toward his partner. "... Ya mean eight?"


    The gangster looked back, then rolled his whole head as if put upon. "It''s how bean shooters work now," he loudly declared as he threw his arms wide. He pulled the weapon out and popped the rectangle from the base. "Look, you''ve got your little spinny wheel, we''ve got these babies! Mine holds seven slugs, but you can leave one in the chamber so you''re ready to plug some patsy on the quick." He slapped it back in. "You get an extra that way, too. So that''s seven, and a plus one, you following now, chief?"


    The cowboy gave a deep groan of frustration and annoyance with a slow shake of his head, and focused on the problem in front of him. "Eight. Now, I may not be a city slicker from the next century--"


    The gangster cleared his throat. "Actually, pal, these boys are, uh ... They''re two C''s ahead of you."


    If looks could kill, the cowboy wouldn''t need a gun. "So help me, Yankee, if you don''t shut that yap, I will plant you in the bone orchard myself!"


    The martial artist finally opened his own mouth from behind the gunmen, both of whom stood a head taller than he did. His Chinese accent was strong, but his pronunciation was precise. "I believe what my companions are attempting to communicate is that you have miscounted. There are fourteen bullets before they will have to reload, and in the meantime, you will have to deal with us."


    Behind him, the yakuza loomed intimidatingly without saying a word.


    "Exactly," the cowboy agreed. "Thanks kindly, squinty." Then, back to the man at the front of the crowd, "That, an'' I figure you boys are askin'' the wrong question. See, if I was in yer shoes, I wouldn''t be askin'' how many of us have to die to lock horns with those low-down varmints."


    He stepped a little closer, looking the leader of the men right in the eyes, an action that clearly unsettled the unarmed man. "I''d be askin'' what''re the odds I''m one''a ''em to bite it."


    Haru didn''t need to ask that question. She already knew the answer. They all would. None of them would be able to do anything to meaningfully harm the constructs, and she doubted their guns would perform normally, either.


    She had to do something, or all of those brave people were going to die!


    "Haru, no!"


    "Please, honey, stay down!"


    The moment she made to stand from her seat, her parents latched like barnacles to either of her arms. She looked down into their eyes and saw raw terror radiating back at her. She felt it from the whole car, now that she was paying attention, even from the men putting on a brave face and challenging the constructs.


    At least now she actually knew what she needed to do.


    Haru looked down at her parents, her face crestfallen. "I''m so sorry," she said to them.


    Their faces filled with confusion, but she grabbed the wrists of their hands that gripped her and focused. She focused on drowsiness. Sleepiness. Exhaustion. The feeling of all emotional strength spent.


    Her parents'' gazes became cloudy and unfocused, and their anchorings to her grew weak. By the time their hands slipped past her own, the both of them were sound asleep in their chairs.


    She looked down at them, sorrow filling her heart, but she knew it had to be done. Manipulating the emotions of those important to her was something she always told herself she''d never do. But she had also always known that was a lie. She''d do it the moment she had to do it, because it had to be done, to protect them.


    Still, it had been such a precious lie, one she''d never again have the luxury of pretending over.


    With no small amount of mental force, she shoved the personal drama aside and stood up in her seat so that everyone in the car could see her.


    "Excuse me, everyone! Excuse me, please!"


    The gangster saw her first and rolled his eyes, his expression clearly saying what he thought of the timing of her interruption. "Dollface, what''re you doing?! I just told you--"


    It was harder to influence emotions without physical contact. Much, much harder. It hurt her head in several locations. Behind her nose, under the top of her skull, at the base of her neck, above her ears. If she overdid it, her eyes would feel three sizes too big for their sockets.


    But she could do it.


    She focused on a wave of calm, disinterest and tranquility rolling out from her over the entire crowd, filling every corner of the train car. She focused with everything she had, on every flash of emotional light she could feel.


    "There is nothing to worry about," she asserted, and was immediately grateful that her voice sounded far more steady than she feared it might. "There is nothing to fear. These men are here to protect us."


    Haru wasn''t convincing the passengers of these things. This wasn''t some impassioned attempt at persuasion. She was telling them, implanting them as feelings in the hearts throughout the car. She couldn''t control what people actually thought, but she wasn''t sure she could have exercised that much control over so many, anyway.


    "Your feet are tired. Return to your seats. You''re looking forward to your trip, to getting to where you are going. Enjoy the company of your neighbor. Make small-talk."


    The pressure was building rapidly inside her head. She had to wrap this up, she couldn''t keep it up much longer.


    "There is nothing to be concerned about. There is nothing out of place. Everything is the way it''s supposed to be."


    Finally, finally, the crowd began to disperse, and as they all started moving back to their seats and those already there settled down, she collapsed into her own, almost literally.


    ...


    She wasn''t surprised that the gangster came up to her once everything had fully settled down again. By the time he had, however, her face was pale and she was holding her head in her hands. Even they looked like they were going to give out.


    He leaned against the aisle side of her father''s seat, where the man still snoozed. "Wow. That was ... Kitten, that was ... something. You did that, didn''t you? Made them scram like that. And not with your pipes, neither."


    All she could really find the strength to answer with was a groan.


    He glanced over and arched an eyebrow. "Hey, uh ... you okay, kitten? You''re starting to look a little ... well, my gran would''ve said you look green in the gills, but that''s giving your colors a bit too much credit."


    "My head feels like a split melon ..."


    He made a show of wincing. "Ouch. I''ll have one of the gals bring you something."


    There was a length of silence where Haru almost thought he''d left, but then his hand tentatively patted her shoulder.


    "You, uh ... you did good, doll. I don''t know what you did, but it saved lives. I won''t pretend everyone cares about that, but a tomato like you should."


    He started to walk away, and she didn''t want to ask, but she couldn''t stop herself.


    "... Do you?"


    The gangster stopped, hesitated for a long moment and fidgeted with the rim of his hat. Finally, he answered honestly, though he didn''t look like he liked it. "... No. No, babe, I don''t think I do. I think I could have popped every last one of those maroons if it meant all the rest stayed put. But I think ..." He hesitated again. "... I think it''s good you do. I gotta blow. I''ll make sure one of the skirts gets you an aspirin."


    As he headed off, though, Haru''s thoughts were deeper than just her headache, though that certainly dominated most of them. Past that, though, she couldn''t help worrying about her decision. It had to be done to save lives, but ...


    ... But she''d used them to aid a demon attack in the process. Was that okay? Did it matter?


    All she knew was that, while her head still pounded, those were questions that were completely beyond her ability to answer. But at least she''d bought them all more time. That was what she had to cling to for now.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven

    (27)


    Miss Sada''s car pulled into a parking area that was little more than a gravel patch off of a dirt road, and a moment later, Reina brought her bike in next to her and lifted her helmet off. Though the council president had been right there with the teacher at the school, having to pick up Ran and Natsumi meant the sedan was going to be full. As the only one with a license, the older student took her motorcycle, instead.


    It was considered poor form, apparently, to go leaping across town under the augmented power of their transformations, due to the risk of being spotted outside of a seal. Of course, Sword Witch wouldn''t have been able to keep up with the others, anyway, making it something of a moot point.


    It was truly getting dark now as the girls unloaded, especially this far from the heavy city lighting, but they could still see the long, empty length of railway across the field from them. To the left, a couple miles down the track, was a bridge for the train, followed by a sharp curve. To the right was the city they came from, though they could mostly only see the lights reflecting off of the sky and a few of the really tall buildings. They were a dozen miles out from the actual train station.


    The brunette looked over the scene in front of them. There wasn''t even the sound of a train within earshot. "This is the place?"


    "This is where you will need to intercept the train, yes," Sarasa confirmed. "Thanks to Miss Tamashini''s precognition, we''re still a few minutes ahead of it, though the seal has already been erected."


    The history teacher made a motion with her hand and a video display appeared in the open air before them. It showed a flaming train engine barreling angrily down the tracks, dragging a line of doorless cars behind it. The engine''s wheels were forged of red fire that burned with a black core, and identical flames belched from its smokestack, though the vehicle was supposed to be diesel. Twin flames even burned from the windows above its grill, giving it the twisted semblance of a face.


    ... There was no way anyone could be alive at the train''s controls with that kind of fire raging out of there unless they were a demon, themselves. The runaway train no longer answered to a master.


    "Haru''s trapped on that thing." It was the only thought that could make it out of the brunette''s head.


    "Along with maybe hundreds of others," Reina reminded her. "We have to get them out of there."


    "Those cars may not be part of the protodemon," the younger girl pointed out, "but it''s still reinforced them. It doesn''t want to let go of its passengers, and I''m not much good for car hopping in the kind of winds those speeds will be generating. Without transformation enhancements, I''ll get blown right off. Besides, we have another problem."


    The brunette turned away from the video feed and pointed toward the bridge. "If it goes over that bridge at full speed and doesn''t rattle it apart, the whole train''s going to jump right off that cliff the moment it hits the turn. And I have a hunch it doesn''t care."


    "So we''re on a time table, then," Reina agreed.


    All eyes widened when they heard a whistle, and the girls all looked toward Sada.


    "I''m sorry," she apologized, looking only toward the display, where the scenery was starting to look more and more familiar. "When I said a few minutes, I didn''t anticipate such reckless acceleration."


    "Then we''re out of time." The brunette paused a moment. "... And I have a bad idea."


    Reina didn''t apparently need to be told. "You can''t. If you try to stop the train by force, you won''t make it in time."


    The younger girl looked toward her, understanding the team leader was speaking from premonition. "Do I stop the train?"


    "... Yes." The answer was hesitant. "But not soon enough to get out of the way."


    "Then we need to make it easier to stop. Lower its mass, remove cars from the chain."


    But the black-haired girl shook her head. "It''s not possible. We don''t have the power. Maybe if--"


    The council president choked short on her words as her eyes widened and face paled, and she found her gaze resting on Natsumi and Ran.


    The moment stretched uncomfortably long, until the redhead finally scowled back. "What?! Speak up, Tamashini! You look like you''re having a heart attack!"


    But the brunette had seen that expression before, and grinned. "Sorry, seems I broke her again. You can fill us in on what went wrong later, Boss. Right now, we''ve got a train to catch."


    Miss Sada nodded in agreement. "I''ll move you girls into the seal as soon as you''re transformed."


    Reina pulled herself out of her stupor with what looked like force of will and nodded before stepping to the front of the group. "Let''s go."


    "TRANSFORM!"


    The shout went up in unison as a rainbow of cards were thrown to the sky before crashing back down again.


    "Blazing fires of passion!"


    "Unyielding aegis of devotion!"


    "Golden blade of determination!"


    "Heavenly crescent of ascendance!"


    * * *


    As soon as the light show faded and the sensation of displacement into the seal passed, Sword Witch summoned her blade and flipped it around to hold the hilt toward Flame Witch.


    "Natsumi, you''re essential for this. I know you don''t like using it, but we need your unparalleled strength. You''re the only one who can break the cars loose now that they''re being reinforced by the protodemon, but since it''s fire element, your explosions aren''t going to work."


    Flame Witch stared at the handle like it was some sort of serpent. She still remembered how easily it handled, how smooth it was, how light, how perfectly it fit her hand. Yet something deep in her recoiled from it.


    She knew she could use it, she knew she had the training to use it, heck, she knew the other girl was right about its necessity. But her mind just couldn''t imagine doing so. She could picture herself as Natsumi, training with a wakizashi just like she knew the sword would become. She could recall the lessons in using the weapon and many others.


    The moment she tried to put that weapon into Flame Witch''s hand, her head just wouldn''t do it.


    And why should it?! Her mind immediately leaped to its own defense. Flame Witch was a witch! She had no need of physical weapons, of barbaric brute force attacks! Who cared if something wouldn''t burn?! She just had to burn it harder!


    But she raised her eyes to meet those of Sword Witch. Those blue eyes were not bossy or arrogant like those of Thunder Witch. They made no demands. They just ached, and they pleaded with her.


    "Please, Natsumi," the brunette asked her. "For Haru."


    ... Flame Witch mentally threw her own mind to the back wall and reached forward to grasp the hilt as the blade flashed into that flame-licked wakizashi. Screw her pride as a witch, her pride as a friend, as Natsumi Homura, was far more important to her. A friend needed her, and she''d throw all of her magic away forever to save any of her friends.


    Sword Witch''s eyes changed, not to braggadocio, not to a know-it-all, but to gratitude.


    "Thanks, Red. I''ll be counting on you to take care of her."


    She nodded back. "She''ll be in good hands, but only until you get back, so don''t get run over."


    The brunette returned the nod, then turned to the other two. "Ran, Reina, you two need to be evacuating people as quickly as possible. Start from the caboose and work your way forward, we don''t know how the engine will react if you get too close."


    "Um," Shield Witch started, "we''d be able to get them out faster if you helped, then we could stop the train together."


    But Sword Witch shook her head. "I already said I can''t handle the winds without a proper transformation, much less haul people out." She held her arms out, clad in what to any onlooker would seem a Witch''s magical costume. "Nariko isn''t built to be a fireman, unfortunately. The only thing I''m good for is heading the thing off."


    "Without that transformation," Sacred Witch reminded her, "you will be that much more vulnerable to an oncoming train. Kelly, you will not survive any sort of impact with it."


    But there was that Thunder Witch grin coming back. "I''m more interested in getting there in time. Don''t suppose you''re willing to lend me your bike?"


    Reina blinked in confusion at the question, then looked over to the machine and back to the witch asking for it.


    "Come on, we''re in the seal!" Sword Witch argued. "Even if it gets totaled, the real one will be right there waiting for you when we leave!"


    "That ... isn''t the issue, Kelly," she answered back. "You don''t know how to operate a motorcycle."


    But that grin widened. If Haru were here, she''d be vehemently refusing to let Riko try whatever it was she was considering, just from the width of that grin alone.


    "Now why would you go and make an assumption like that, Prez?"


    * * *


    The four constructs were playing poker. Haru had to wonder if they were really enjoying it or just going through the motions. They did such a good job of portraying emotions that she wouldn''t have questioned it at all if it weren''t for the fact she could tell they didn''t have any.


    Could the imitation of enjoyment provide a shadow of joy if the actor didn''t personally know the difference?


    A concierge, who was also a construct, had brought her a juice box and a dose of aspirin just like the gangster had promised, and it had definitely helped. Since then, she''d done occasional reinforcements of the emotions she''d initially instilled, but that was much less straining than establishing them in the first place. At this point, it was easier to just walk over to any abnormalities and touch them directly.


    ... That scared her more than the fact, in doing so, she was helping a demon. She was in more or less direct control of every living thing in that train car, and now that it was established, she could pretty much keep it up indefinitely. Even if she had to sleep, she could just make them sleep first.


    Haru looked down at the faces of her parents, themselves still asleep, where they would remain until she woke them, and she felt sick. She covered her mouth even as she willed the contents of her stomach back down, and by the time it finally settled, she still kept her mouth covered as she fought back sobs.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    She had never disliked being a Witch before. No hardship, no pain, no danger had ever made her regret it. She was helping people, and she was doing it with friends. People that understood her, people that knew what it was like to be so different from everyone else on maybe the entire planet.


    But none of her friends were here. She was alone, and the only way she could help the people trapped on this train was to chain their hearts, too. She was their jailer as much as the four constructs were. Worse, maybe, because at least the constructs left them able to comprehend what was happening.


    In that moment, she despised her powers, and blamed them for what she had done with them. She had to use them, but if they hadn''t existed, then she wouldn''t be alone on a train full of people, doomed to wherever the demon in charge was taking them. She couldn''t be a tool if she wasn''t of any use to anyone.


    How unfair was it, she thought, that she could use her powers to control everyone else''s emotions, but not her own?


    But the implications stiffened her spine enough to shove that wish away. No, it was essential that she could feel this revulsion, that she could be disgusted by herself, horrified by what she could do. If she could control that, then how would she ever know where the line was? Every time she''d push it away, it would get easier to do, get easier to excuse doing.


    Down that path stood only one more demon, and the world had enough of those.


    Haru forced herself to sit up straight, to breathe deeply and get a grip on herself. She wasn''t alone, and maybe she was being watched too closely to slip off and transform, but she wasn''t the only Witch in town. Sarasa would know that the attack was happening, and the others would be putting a stop to it. It was okay to just be buying time.


    That''s what friends were for.


    Once she felt in firm enough control of herself, she pushed her way to her feet. It would do her good to stretch them a bit. And, come to think of it, if it weren''t for the fact they were the vanguards for a demon attack, a cowboy, a kung fu master, a yakuza and a gangster would actually be a pretty amazing skit ...


    "It''s not right," the cowboy was saying as he sorted through his cards. "Just sittin'' around watchin'' ''em all like a peck a'' mother hens." He slapped two cards down for the yakuza, who was playing dealer, to replace. "If this were any proper train heist, we''d be goin'' up and down the aisle, fillin'' a bag full a'' everything they got that''s worth a dime, then burn the breeze all the way to the county line."


    "Well, there''s your nut right there," the gangster replied after he blew the smoke from the latest pull on his cigarette. "This isn''t a box job. The boss''s orders were very specific. We''re here to make them stay put, which means we stay put. Nobody''s pasting anybody, and there''s no sense in puffing them with nowhere to go."


    Though he tossed a card down casually, he did it in such a way that it never showed face up as he addressed the yakuza. "Gimme one, would you, Soupy?"


    "You don''t need to tell me we''re a bunch a'' waddies," the cowboy countered. "That don''t make it right, and it don''t mean I have to like it."


    "You can''t like it," the gangster bit back with exasperation. "None of us can, that''s the screw!"


    The cowboy shoved himself to his feet. "Well, I can sure as Hell get damned curly, and I''ll pop that flannel mouth of yours on the way through!"


    The gangster rose to meet him. "You''re tooting the wrong ringer, pal! But if you''ve got it in your noodle to breeze off, please, by all means, take it to the butter and egg man, yourself! Don''t let me stop you! Maybe your replacement won''t be such a flat tire!"


    The yakuza brought his arms down on the table with a wordless snarl. The impact sent the table jumping, and Haru thought she might have even felt it through the train car floor.


    The great crash caused both the cowboy and the gangster to fall still for several long moments. The latter was the first to regather his wits, and he cleared his throat as he went through a show of adjusting his red tie.


    "I follow ya, Soupy," he concluded. "Excuse our manners." And he pulled his seat back over and returned to it. The cowboy grumbled something, too, but did the same.


    Haru decided to step over once they had all settled back into their places, and the gangster glanced over and took notice.


    "Hey, Kitten, don''t mind us. We''re just trouble boys bumping gums." His attention was more on gathering his cards back up and straightening them back out. "You, uh, topping off the pipes again already?"


    Haru only understood that he meant her emotional maintenance on the passengers because he''d used variations of the phrase before. Otherwise, she''d probably think he was asking if she was going to the bathroom.


    "No, everyone''s fine for now," she replied. "I''m just stretching my legs."


    "If everyone''s fine," the cowboy told her irritably, "then get back to your seat. This ain''t a riverboat."


    "Hey, now," the gangster put a hand forward, "no need to be a punk. She wants to walk around a bit, let her."


    The cowboy leaned back in his seat to glare across the table at his partner. "Why do you get all namby-pamby with her, boy?! You give me a lecture about sticking to task, and then turn about and give that girl special treatment. She''s not owed any better than any other soul on this deuce train."


    The gangster stared back at him as if aghast. "Look, pal, we may be brunos for a literal heartless monster, but that''s no excuse to not show a dame proper manners! Besides," he added, waving a hand across the table, "it''s her hard work that''s keeping us all so lousy with free time!"


    Haru wrinkled her nose at that phrase. "That makes it sound like a bad thing."


    He tilted his head in consideration. "Does it?"


    Across from them, the cowboy groaned deeply. "Yes, you leaky-mouthed blatherskyte. Lousy is a bad thing. All the sand you''re always kicking about being from the next century, didn''t they even teach you how to speak right?" He glared over his cards at Haru, though he still spoke to the gangster. "Or did you spend all your time pirooting with guttersnipes?"


    Well, that definitely sounded like a bad thing, and the way the yakuza was starting to growl again, Haru figured that was exactly how it was supposed to sound.


    The girl held up her hands and gave an apologetic smile. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to be an issue, honest! I didn''t know it would be a problem! I''ll just head back--"


    The gangster grabbed another loose chair and spun it around so it hit her in the back of her knees, and her retreat turned into a yelp as she fell back into it. "Sit down."


    He looked back across the table at the glare from the cowboy. "There. She''s in her seat."


    "That''s not her seat!"


    "I''m changing her seat." He glanced over as Haru began to fidget, then raised a hand to get a passing concierge construct''s attention. "Hey, there, moll, get our canary some giggle juice, will you? All this excitement''s giving her the heebie-jeebies."


    Haru stared at him in confusion. "Giggle juice?"


    He worked his eyebrows for an alternative. "Hooch? Corn? White lightning? Bathtub--"


    "He means booze, girly," the cowboy finally put in. "Alcohol." He sighed. "Damned fool can''t talk straight for the life of him."


    "Oh, um, I''m a minor, so ..."


    "Believe me, girly, you look it."


    But the gangster just laughed. "What are you worried about, Dollface? Eh? The law? Where I''m from, it''s illegal for everybody. Nobody gives a jack what your age is. Trust me, I won''t let you out on the roof, but a little''ll settle those nerves of yours."


    He raised his head to the concierge again, who was still waiting for them to come to a decision. "In fact, get a round for all of us while you''re at it." He patted his pocket thoughtfully. "Oh, and, uh, pick me up another deck of luckies while you''re at it."


    Again, Haru raised an eyebrow. "Cards?"


    "Smokes, babe. Gaspers." He dangled the stick he was already smoking. "Cigarettes, since my capacity for the language has been challenged. Don''t worry, those''re for me."


    When the concierge left to fill the order, the boys finally got back to their game ... for what it was worth.


    "DAMN IT ALL!!!" the cowboy raged as he threw his cards against the table the moment the martial artist revealed his own. "AGAIN! How many more times is this blasted squint-eye gonna pull faces?!"


    "Wise man say," the chinaman spoke for what might have been the first time Haru had heard him since their first appearance, "keep your own face empty and watch your enemy''s. Many victories come your way." He began sweeping in the chips. "Also, we invented mathematics. Counting is easy."


    The gangster threw his head back and laughed as the cowboy seethed so hard a vein was bulging at his temple.


    Both stopped when the whole car shook. All four men got to their feet and began searching for the source. Both the gangster and the cowboy drew their guns again.


    "What the hell was that?!" the cowboy demanded.


    "That''s the sound of us lining up behind the eight ball, pal," the gangster put in, and grabbed Haru by the arm to pull her up. "Get behind me, kitten."


    Haru''s breath caught in her throat when a golden blade pierced through the roof. But no, that was a single-edged blade, with a curve ...


    Before any of the constructs could figure out what was going on, it carved open a hole and a fiery-haired young woman in a red magician-like outfit dropped through to land in the middle aisle, her face already drawn into a fierce glare.


    "Natsumi!" the blonde registered before she could stop herself.


    The gangster was looking back at her and forward at the invader with hesitation, though his gun was still raised. "You know this bearcat?"


    "I do! Please, let me speak with her!"


    But his arm blocked her path. "Stay put, kitten. We''ll handle this."


    Flame Witch stood up straight and focused on the four of them. "By all means."


    "She''ll kill you all!" The urgency in Haru''s voice even surprised herself.


    The martial artist didn''t seem to even flinch, and the yakuza looked like he was pumping himself up, but the raw panic the girl practically screeched with gave the other two pause.


    The gangster looked between the two girls again, but raised his gun vertically and eased the hammer down. He dipped his head to the cowboy. "You know he''ll shoot the moment you pull anything."


    But she smiled sympathetically up at him and patted his arm. "It''s okay, I know you will, too. But you won''t have to, I promise."


    The cowboy looked disgusted and spat to the side as the gangster shifted awkwardly while the girl stepped past him.


    Homura only removed her eyes from the constructs for a glance as Haru stopped in front of her.


    "Hey, Nat ..." the blonde greeted.


    "... Haru," she responded. Her gaze went out to all of the people sitting in their seats and chatting among each other like nothing was happening. "You of all of us know a demon construct when you see one. So tell me what the fuck is going on."


    "I was controlling the situation here to keep the fighting down," the empath explained. "Are the other cars the same way?"


    "Yeah," the witch confirmed with a nod. "They''ve all got constructs, but the others are on it. Sacred Witch busts in and blows them apart, then Shield Witch scoops up all of the passengers. But I promised Kelly I''d personally make sure you were safe."


    Haru couldn''t explain it, but that struck a chord of worry deep in her spine, and she stepped closer to Flame Witch. "Where is she?!"


    Her sword was with Flame Witch, and the only reason Riko would send someone else to protect her, even if that someone was Natsumi, was because she was physically incapable of it.


    The redhead''s emotional fires burned warm at the sight, and she put a hand on the blonde''s shoulder. "She''s fine, Haru. We''ve got a plan. She just couldn''t take the winds without a transformation, so she''s handling another part of it. We''re on a timer, though, so I''ve got to get you out of here."


    Haru''s mind went to all of the people around her. If she left ...


    "No!" The way she pulled away from Homura startled the witch too much to stop her. "I can''t go! I''m the only thing holding this car together!"


    "It''s true," the gangster called from back where they were standing. "Frankly, things were getting awfully goofy before your gal stepped in. A lot of people were going to get hurt."


    She started to take a step forward. "I could just take you out now, and then it won''t be an issue."


    But Haru immediately moved in front of her again. "Nat, stop! Don''t do this! You said you''re on a timer, right?!"


    "I also said I''d get you to safety," she countered.


    "I am safe," the blonde insisted vehemently. "Whatever you''re doing, keep going! Aren''t I a Witch, too?! I''ve got this car under control!"


    Flame Witch watched her for a long moment, but then pointed the wakizashi at the guards. "I know none of you can feel emotions, but if anything happens to her, we''ll be finding out if you can feel pain."


    "I follow ya, bearcat! I follow ya!" The gangster waved her back with his empty hand. "Like we keep saying, we''re here for just that!"


    The redhead turned her attention back to Haru and gave a long, torn stare.


    She smiled reassuringly. "I''ll be fine, Nat. Trust me."


    "... Okay," she concluded. "I''m burning time as it is. Don''t make me a liar to Kelly of all people, Haru."


    And as easy as skipping, the witch jumped back through the hole in the roof and was gone.


    "Phew," the gangster said after a moment as he put his gun away again. "You''ve got some scary pals, kitten."


    She glanced his way. "What''s a bearcat?"


    He just nodded toward the hole. "She is. Everything she is, that''s a bearcat."


    The next instant, another impact struck the train car, this time from the front end, and it rattled the entire place enough that Haru had to brace her feet and grab the side of a nearby seat.


    "What was that?!" But when she looked up at the gangster, he was staggering even after the car had settled, and he was beginning to fade in and out.


    He looked down at his hands as he turned them back and forth in front of him, then scoffed. "How about that ... Bumped like a chump ..." The gangster looked up at Haru with a grin like it didn''t matter. "Looks like it''s your win, kitten."


    No, no, those were bad words. "What''s going on?!" she demanded again.


    "The car''s been disconnected," the cowboy explained. "And I''ve a bee in my bonnet it was that four-flusher friend of yours." He had a dark look in his eyes as he raised his revolver. "I figure I''ve still got a shot at getting a little justice, though."


    Haru could only stare down the black barrel of the gun. There were people behind her. If she moved ...


    She clenched her eyes shut and looked away as the cowboy''s finger closed around the trigger.


    I''m sorry, Nat, she thought. I''m making a liar of you after all! Just one more stupid mistake!


    "Kitten!"


    Her eyes went wide just as the gun went off, and a heavy weight collapsed back into her. She found the gangster in her arms as their combined weight dragged them both to the floor.


    He had one hand over a bloody hole in his chest, but his other raised his own gun and fired three shots back into the cowboy, who crashed into the wall before slumping to the ground.


    The gangster gasped as he wildly waved the gun between the other two. "Don''t you--" He had to spit blood out that was coming up from his lungs. "Don''t either of you get any wise ideas, either!"


    The martial artist and the yakuza seemed surprised, but stayed put, clearly in conflict about what they should do even as all of their bodies continued to fade in and out.


    Haru reached around him and, with effort, pulled him into more of a sitting position so he was leaning against her instead of on top of her. She looked him in the face and tried to say words. He took a bullet for her. Why? How? What was the point?


    Her mouth moved uselessly as all of the words just piled up in a wreck.


    He met her eyes. "Don''t ... don''t give me that look, dollface ... I''ve said it often enough. I don''t get stuck on nobody." He knocked his gun hand against where his heart would be. "That part of us doesn''t run. It''s just the job. Gotta protect the passengers. That''s all you are to me, kitten. A job."


    His gun hand was starting to droop. "So ... so get that ... that look off your ..."


    And it clinked against the floor of the aisle, and the only sound for a long moment was that of the tracks passing underneath as the blonde struggled to keep from bawling over a construct, even as the weight of his body faded to nothing and there were only humans left in the car.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight

    (28)


    The motorcycle''s engine roared between her legs as she gunned the throttle, sending the bike nearly skipping across the field. The vehicle should have been an uncontrolled mess careening toward a fiery crash, as Nariko Kelly had certainly never driven anything more complex than a bicycle. And it was true that the brunette had no memory of ever having driven a motorcycle, either.


    But the body never forgets. This reckless charge, rather than an adrenaline-pumping danger, felt familiar. Normal. Not safe. No one would ever describe these speeds as safe even on a flat, straight road in full protective gear, and she was doing it across an unpaved, brush-pocked field in near-darkness without so much as a helmet or goggles.


    Reina''s motorcycle was no dirt bike, and she was pretty sure that if this hadn''t been one generated by the seal, she''d be paying back her upperclassman for all of the undercarriage damage this was going to do. Her mind drifted briefly between dodging rocks and small trees to how she wouldn''t mind just doing the repair work, herself, but she had a hunch Nariko didn''t have much of a history in small engine mechanics. Too much of a red flag.


    Damn, she wanted her own bike. But then what would Nariko do with it after she left? And how would her parents react?


    ... Okay, Marcus would probably be all on board, but Saki seemed like a hard sell. Maybe she could get Anna to help her convince them to let her get a fixer-upper.


    The motorcycle tried to buck away from her, but she immediately compensated with her body mass. The next moment, she sent it shooting up a half-fallen tree and flying into the open air.


    At the height of the jump, she chanced a glance back. In the distance, she could see the train, but several of the cars were already lagging behind. The girls were already on it, then. That meant it was almost time for her to do her part.


    She turned her attention ahead again, her body keeping the bike level instead of letting it spin out of control as it headed back toward the ground. The bridge was in sight, and the back tire tried to spin out while the shock absorbers strained against the impact before the treads caught traction.


    ... Y''know, if she did get a fixer-upper, it''d be like bringing it back from the dead. Would it be too edgy to name it Dullahan?


    She skidded sideways into a cloud of dirt as she brought the bike to a stop, then kicked the stand down. She climbed off of the bike and a few quick steps brought her onto the tracks.


    She could already feel them vibrating through her boots as she turned her back to the bridge, and in a flash of gold, her other weapon appeared in her off-hand.


    She could see the flames coming out of the front of the train, and a part of her quivered in deeply-ingrained fear of such a machine. All of her life, people were told not to do exactly what she was doing now. Countless stories of reckless idiots populated entertainment media and safety classes. Even within a steel car, you wouldn''t survive, and the train was always faster than it looked. If a human were at the wheel, there would still be no way for it to avoid her. At full brake, it took a train a solid mile to come to a complete stop.


    She quashed that line of thought immediately. Magic was driven by will, like Shield Witch''s impenetrable barrier. Only absolute will would create the most miraculous outcome. She wouldn''t permit the thought that she could fail. For that matter, she wouldn''t even tolerate the thought that she could succeed.


    She raised the pistol as she took a breath and planted her feet like Reina had shown her. Maybe it was mystical hooloo, but she had a hunch that precious little in this world reached the Witches accidentally. The pistol barrel was level with her ear and her eyes were focused on the front of the oncoming train. She would pour her all into this, all at once, and then keep pouring.


    Her grip tightened on the gun as energy began to spark around her. Only one thought could possibly be allowed: Her success was inevitable, because she was Sword Witch, and her obstacle was only a train.


    ... Yeah, no, she couldn''t name her bike Dullahan. That was stupid. She wasn''t even really a high school student, there was no excuse for catching a second bout of Middle School Syndrome.


    The plasma particle beam lanced across the distance with such pressure that the air contracted into silence ...


    ... And then the world between the two forces detonated.


    * * *


    The shockwave hit the car with so much force even the three Witches inside were slammed against whatever was in front of them. Flame Witch cried out and swore, but Sacred Witch turned back toward the civilians, fearful of what she''d see.


    "Ran!"


    "I''ve got them," Shield Witch confirmed, and sure enough, barriers surrounded each of the passengers, despite the gunmetal-haired girl, herself, being plastered up against Sacred Witch''s back. As Sacred Witch watched, all of the individual bubbles gathered into a large one holding all of the car''s passengers and it began rising up through the hole in the roof. "But I am only able to focus on the car I can see. We will be seeing more injuries in the rest of the cars."


    "Damn it," Flame Witch swore again. "Isn''t this too soon?"


    "If Sword Witch has already started her attack," their leader observed as she pushed herself back to her feet, "then we are out of time. Homura, go straight to the front-most passenger car and sever it directly. Wakumi and I will follow. We no longer have the luxury of taking these one at a time. We have to remove as much mass as possible, defenses be damned."


    "I''m on it!"


    The redhead jumped for the hole, but she hardly set foot on the roof before her jaw dropped open, blinding cascades of light reflecting off of her eyes. "... What the heck, Kelly?!"


    Behind her, she vaguely heard Sacred Witch and Shield Witch landing on the roof, as well, but they stopped, too. She looked back at them, the corona of lightning energy washing across their senses causing all of their hair to drift upwards despite the decreasing winds. "You guys are seeing this, too, right?! Isn''t this way too much?!"


    They could see the beam from there, slamming into the front of the engine, but it was so much energy that it couldn''t all dissipate on impact. Instead, it flowed out and over the train like a wave, forming an intense, extremely low-altitude aurora.


    Shield Witch began to stretch out her hand, but hesitated. "... I didn''t realize she could generate this much energy ... Even as Thunder Witch ... She shouldn''t be able to maintain this level of output ..."


    Flame Witch''s mind immediately went back to the fight against her family armor. How much fighting Kelly had done before she started to flag. On one hand, a part of her questioned if the brunette had taken it easy on her, or if she really had such limited understanding of her powers back then. If she''d struck with that sword with even a portion of this energy, she would have blown the entire dojo into the sky. Nevermind that open shot she''d landed.


    But the overall focus of her mind was understanding what Ran was talking about. "She should have burnt out in seconds already. How is she still going?!"


    And what enemy had they faced before now that could have endured it? Weren''t they witnessing something utterly ridiculous?!


    "A last stand is truly a miraculous thing to witness ..."


    Natsumi''s eyes shot to Sacred Witch like her leader had just turned into a monster. "What did you say?!"A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    But Tamashini just started forward. "She''s giving everything she has for the sake of everyone still onboard. If that''s going to count for anything, we have to hurry."


    The redhead grunted, but redoubled her grip on the demonic wakizashi. Don''t you DARE fucking die on us, Kelly, she thought to herself as she hurried after Sacred Witch. I won''t forgive you!


    The Witches cleared the last few cars at a sprint and jumped down to a platform between the foremost one and the engine. The back of the protodemon train snarled at them with a monstrous face made of smoke that twisted like black snakes, blocking the door to the inside.


    The bigger concern was the wall of guns and cannons around it that all wheeled about to aim at the girls.


    Sacred Witch and Flame Witch dove for what cover there was while Shield Witch raised her barrier against the incoming fire.


    "People, I get!" Natsumi yelled over the lead hailstorm. "You''re bound to meet plenty of nasty passengers over the better part of a century! But when did this thing get the opportunity to copy a fucking military train?!


    "It doesn''t matter!" Reina shouted back. "If we can''t get past it, Sword Witch and everyone still on board could die!"


    Flame Witch''s eyes widened. "No ..." She raised her voice again. "We don''t have to get past it! We just have to sever the car!"


    She charged from her cover, blade in hand, leaving Sacred Witch to only reach out after her. "Homura, wait!"


    Natsumi went right for the hitch, determined to cleave it apart at any cost, drawing the sword back high overhead, prepared to focus all of her fury on the demonic steel beneath her feet.


    A stray shot made it past Ran''s barrier and a force like her limb was being yanked from her body threw her back.


    "Natsumi!" Ran screamed, turning away from the barrage.


    "I''m fine!" she shouted back. She wasn''t actually sure she was, but she knew she wasn''t dead, and that was close enough. It was more important that Ran didn''t lose her focus. She pulled herself up and examined her hand. It was intact, but sore. She ran her other hand over her forearm as she flexed her fingers. Nothing seemed broken.


    ... Wait ... she was flexing her fingers. Her empty fingers.


    Flame Witch immediately jerked her head around. "The sword!"


    "It''s gone ..." Sacred Witch''s expression from behind her cover was crestfallen. "The shot knocked it out of your hand ..."


    The redhead turned her attention down to the linking assembly and cursed. Just one more. They only had one more ...!


    "... We''ve got to get the people out of the cars," Sacred Witch said, changing priorities as if the conclusion were absolute.


    "No."


    Sacred Witch paused and looked back at Flame Witch, who looked like she was starting to snarl at the connector. "It''s over, Homura. The sword is gone. We can find it later, but we have to do what we can for the people now."


    "It''s just a sword!" Homura clenched her fist so hard it shook. "All it does is focus power! It was my strength!" She started stalking toward the hitch again. "RAN, COVER ME!!!"


    Shield Witch looked back only for a moment to confirm what was going on, then moved to provide her friend total coverage with her barrier, her sole focus on protecting that small reverse cone. Her barrier shrunk, but brightened with its concentration of power.


    Sacred Witch clearly wanted to step in, to stop her. A part of Natsumi almost wished she''d try. Instead, Flame Witch stopped over the connection, drew her fist back and slammed it down into the steel.


    Her knuckles rebounded off painfully, but the pain only riled her up more. There was no way this thing was more stubborn than she was!


    The next blow was loaded with explosive fire magic, and the next one, and the one after that. She rained blows down, but when she paused to catch her breath, the metal was only dented. She''d never get through at this rate, and that thought drew a snarl out of her.


    Was the sword really that big of a deal?! It was just a weapon! Sure, it channeled her magic, but ...


    She brought her fist up before her and stared at its clenched form speculatively. She only vaguely heard Sacred Witch shouting something at her from behind. Probably wanting her to give up.


    Natsumi Homura didn''t give up.


    She tried to remember her lessons about focusing her strength into her blows, concentrating on the basics to still her mind against her rage. Surely, it could apply to her magic, as well.


    Kelly had tried it, against that demon at the haunted house. But Kelly hadn''t been transformed, her innate resistance to her own electricity had been present but minimal. Even Natsumi could be burned when she wasn''t transformed.


    What had that sword felt like when she''d swung it? When she''d used it to shatter her family''s ancestral armor? That feel of power sucking down her limb, swelling into a great weight.


    ... Yeah, trying it with her finisher might shatter her arm, resistance or no.


    She narrowed her eyes down at the hated steel. What happened to her didn''t matter. The only thing that mattered was breaking -


    - this piece -


    - of JUNK!!!


    "Furious Dragon''s EXPLOSION!!!"


    * * *


    The plume of fire was visible from clear back at the bridge, but as the final cars started to drift back away from the engine, Sword Witch couldn''t spare the energy to be glad. All of her focus had to stay on maintaining the attack.


    It felt like trying to exhale long after the last air had been shoved from her lungs, but she knew there was still "air" to give. A Witch''s actual magical energy was near limitless, after all, or so her fifth-dimensional teacher had said. Far greater than they could actually expel, anyway.


    If she stopped, if she let up for even a moment, a part of her felt that she might never channel magic again. That was no doubt overdramatic, but she''d surely fry so much of whatever arcane muscles did the deed that she certainly wouldn''t be doing any more right away. Maybe not for days.


    If she stopped, she wouldn''t have days. She had to keep it going, she had to keep the channels open. Everything had to be poured into stopping this train, even as her eyes blurred from tears of strain, even as her muscles threatened to cramp. Even as she began to feel faint.


    She thought the gun was getting warm in her hands, but they had gone mostly numb for a while, so it was hard to really be sure.


    If this had been a regular train, it would have surely been obliterated by now, if she hadn''t just blown a hole straight through it with her opening shot. The protodemon curse held it together like a barrier against her attack.


    It was still coming, though. It had slowed tremendously, visibly so, but it was still coming.


    What she wouldn''t give for a second gun, though she wasn''t sure it would really generate more force since it was still drawing from the same battery. If she was already putting out all she had, she couldn''t really do more, just split what she was putting out.


    The train was drawing closer, almost agonizingly. She didn''t want to die.


    Oh, gosh, why would that thought show up now?


    She clenched her eyes and focused every ounce of her remaining willpower against the demonic engine.


    The shrieking of its wheels was tremendous now, as they spun far more rapidly than the momentum they were generating. Sparks flew as they ground against the iron tracks. The engine seemed to pump all the more angrily as if it were trying to find that bit more steam to overtake her.


    Most of the cars had been abandoned in favor of heading on to the next, and the next. Without being pulled, simple friction would stop them eventually, but empty of their cargo, there was nobody within to actually pull the emergency brakes.


    They still held much of their force as they caught up with the engine and slammed into its back end. They crumpled, they derailed, they screamed.


    Caught between the force of the Witch and the force of the cars, the engine''s back end was knocked up, allowing more cars to pile in even as it changed the angle the blast was hitting its nose.


    In an instant, all of the energy involved, its own drive train, the particle beam, the steel pile-up, collided and blasted it end over end overhead.


    For a moment, the brunette froze, certain all of those tons of steel and fire were going to land on her.


    ...


    ... and it sailed over her head and into the ravine beneath the bridge as the last of the cars came to a stop in a pile of their own.


    The explosion sent a plume of heat and fire high enough that it came back up above the tracks and several more stories still, the cloud cooling into an ominously skull-shaped mushroom before it dissipated.


    Sword Witch still stood there, her pistol still raised, but some part of her just stopped working. She just stared blankly ahead as her body tried to process that it was over.


    And then she face-planted onto the tracks.


    * * *


    Coal red eyes stared from a distance as Dakunaito watched the Witches reunite. The imposter would be fine in time, he knew. He could only imagine what she''d done to herself with that stunt, but a Witch''s regeneration was in some ways even more impressive than that of a greater demon.


    Moreover, she''d impressed him. She really had inherited Thunder Witch''s power, but even that wouldn''t have been enough if she hadn''t so intelligently divided the resources at her disposal.


    Technically, this meant that he had failed his emperor. This attack had been meant to thin their numbers in line with the predictions for the Arbiter''s dues, to tip the scale that had so stubbornly remained balanced far longer than the diviners said it should have.


    Surprisingly, he couldn''t bring himself to care. Sure, he wasn''t one of the zealots, and he''d never put much faith in divination, anyway, but normally, his dedication to the emperor was absolute. Something about it just didn''t seem as binding in the wake of the display he''d just witnessed.


    He had found a potential protodemon of such incredible power, and it hadn''t been enough. The Witches had overcome it. The imposter had overcome it.


    Her potential called to him. It wasn''t a sensation he was familiar with, something deep within him like a forgotten objective. It felt similar to what he felt at the prospect of awakening a powerful protodemon, but at the same time, it was as if it were telling him that such a sensation for a mere protodemon was a whimpering thing. He wanted to see if she could go far enough.


    Far enough for what? He wasn''t sure. Still, how ironic it was that it would be the imposter of Thunder Witch, of all of their number, that would do so.


    Dakunaito jerked his head to the side just as he felt a presence, only for it to promptly vanish, and the red lights within the darkness of his helmet narrowed.


    ... There had been someone else there, watching as he had been, but he hadn''t even felt their presence until they went to leave. Who could have hidden themselves from him so thoroughly?


    ... No one, he concluded. No one could have, especially since he was certain it hadn''t been a demon. But what else could it have been?

 Chapter Twenty-Nine

    (29)


    It was a silver lining that the train attack had happened on a Friday night, as the brunette had spent the entire weekend all but bedridden with what she had, with Sarasa''s help, convinced her parents was a bout of flu.


    The first day had been the worst. Every inch of her body burned and seized as if she''d pulled every muscle, torn every tendon and twisted every joint throughout her body while simultaneously suffering lactic burn and having survived the electric chair. Every half-breath was agony, every twitch was torture.


    She barely slept Saturday night, but exhaustion finally won out over pain and she drifted in and out of consciousness over the course of Sunday.


    Honestly, she still felt miserable, sore and wrung out come Monday morning, but she was able to move, and she was sick of her bed. A hot shower almost did more for her than the whole weekend of recovery.


    Her family had been ecstatic to see her up and around, but urged caution. Saki flatly refused to let her go to school if she was running a fever.


    ... Of course, the thermometer came back plenty normal, since it hadn''t really been an infection she had been fighting.


    On the upside, when Marcus asked how she was feeling, she could honestly answer that she felt like she''d played chicken with an oncoming train.


    Reluctantly, her family let her leave, but reminded her repeatedly that if she felt weak or feverish, she should go to the nurse''s office immediately. She sincerely promised to do so each time.


    When Haru had laughed at the face mask they''d made her wear out of the house and threatened to doodle all over it, she left it in a passing trash can. Apparently, the deadpan manner in which she did so only amused the blonde all the more.


    She made her way through the day in something of a stupor, honestly. The content of the classes wasn''t difficult since she already knew the material, but if she hadn''t, she doubted she would have absorbed any of it.


    Honestly, she wanted to go home, curl her body around a bowl of hot soup and turn in early, but that meant returning to that bed hours before she actually had to do so.


    Besides, Sarasa had called another meeting.


    The call had come with a specific extra note that she could skip it if she wasn''t up to it, and that just made her all the more determined to show up, anyway.


    "Miss Kelly," Sarasa greeted her as she opened the club room door. She gave a warm smile, though the others, with the sole exception of Haru, looked surprised to see her. "You made it! How are you feeling?"


    The brunette took a moment to look around the room. It really did look like just another club room, it was uncanny. "Well, you were all there, so I''ll spare you the fifth rendition of using what actually happened as a metaphor, and just say that whatever I did, I don''t recommend it. It sucks."


    She flopped into an open chair more than she sat, but glanced toward Natsumi. "How about you? How''s the hand?"


    The redhead raised the appendage before her and flexed it, as if confirming its state. Haru had told her that Flame Witch had nearly incinerated her own hand and pretty much shattered every bone in the limb all the way up to and including the shoulder blade.


    There wasn''t a mark on her.


    "Mine were only physical injuries," she replied, "so I was fine by morning."


    "The problem with magical healing," Sada put in like the teacher she posed as, "is that it doesn''t really work as well when the damage is to the paths it uses. The greatest ambulance crew in the world can''t get to a patient when the road is out."


    The redhead nodded at the addition, but then turned back toward the brunette. "Still, like you, I wouldn''t recommend it. Doing that much damage to yourself even through a transformation is ..." She paused, considering how to describe it. "Well, how did you put it? It sucks. Haru had to transform just to heal me enough so I wasn''t spilling my arm all over the car."


    "I offered," Reina reminded her, but Natsumi vehemently shook her head.


    "No, thanks. No offense, but your healing feels like a thousand worms crawling in and squirming about to hold everything together."


    Haru and Ran both shivered at the description, no doubt having been on the receiving end at some point, as well.


    The brunette decided to change the topic. "Well, you''re fully recovered and I''m on the mend. I''d say I''m firmly into the, Take a hot bath and fall asleep in the tub, stage of my recovery. Not too shabby for something that was supposed to kill me."


    "Now you''re just being overdramatic," Natsumi immediately jumped to scold her. "Mana burnout sucks, sure, and this was way worse than your first experience with it, but it''s not really possible for it to be fatal."


    "I wasn''t talking about the burnout," she corrected the redhead, then looked across the table directly at Reina. "I was talking about precognition."


    A shadow passed over the council president''s face at that and she looked away.


    "Ah," the brunette noted as more eyes around the room joined her own, "so you haven''t told any of them."


    Little surprise Natsumi again swooped in. "She didn''t have to! Did you forget we were right there?! Except for Haru, we all heard her say that the train was going to kill Thunder Witch! And did you really want to torture her with might-have-beens?!"


    "That''s a very big might-have-been for a magical prophecy."


    Reina forced herself to turn back to the table and meet the brunette''s eyes. "We have already discussed how disruptive you are to my premonitions, Kelly. You aren''t bringing up anything new."


    "Oh," the brunette observed, "so that''s the excuse you''re using for not telling them why it was going to kill me? Why the expectation was that Thunder Witch was going to stare down an oncoming train with no assistance whatsoever, despite that it would be a close enough thing that even a single extra Witch could have changed the outcome? You aren''t going to tell them why no one was supposed to help?"


    "For the same reason you did it on your own this time," Natsumi nearly raged again. "We were helping the passengers!"


    The brunette took a moment to look toward Sarasa, but the teacher was staying out of it, just watching the whole thing from the sidelines as if amused at what was playing out.


    Instead, she addressed the redhead. "Sacred Witch and Shield Witch were helping the passengers, Red. The only reason Flame Witch was over there was because we had a macguffin that let you sever cars from the train. Without that, you would have been more use helping slow the engine."


    "So?"


    "So Thunder Witch doesn''t have an evangelium sword," she pointed out.


    Ran narrowed her eyes at the brunette like she was trying to puzzle out an equation, but her voice was still so quiet when she spoke. "What are you saying should have happened?"


    She glanced to Reina, but their leader still didn''t seem to want to speak. "Haru was removed from the entire situation," she explained in the raven-haired girl''s stead, "so we can assume that everything she experienced went more or less unaltered. She would be on the runaway train at the time of the attack just as Tamashini''s first premonition described."


    Then she paused, giving Reina one more chance to step in. The older girl didn''t take it. "Then Thunder Witch would try to stop the train with brute force while Sacred Witch rescued as many civilians as possible in case she failed."


    Ran and Natsumi both looked at each other while Haru swiveled between them both, all three girls wearing expressions of utter confusion.


    The redhead even looked to Reina for confirmation, but when, again, the older girl was averting her eyes, she wheeled again back to the brunette. "Wait, then what was I supposed to be doing?"


    The brunette sighed. There it was, and Reina was still keeping her mouth shut. Fine, she''d drag the truth out into the open kicking and screaming.


    "Collecting worms, I''d imagine."


    ...


    She''d always heard the expression about being able to hear a pin drop, but she''d never witnessed such an absolute definition of such a moment.


    Natsumi didn''t shout or scream. She didn''t swear or threaten. One moment, she was staring uncomprehendingly, then the next, her chair went rebounding off of the wall behind her as she exploded out of it, swinging a heavy haymaker at the brunette.


    With an expression that reflected just how little she wanted to be bothered with something like that right now, the brunette leaned back in her chair sharp enough to send it tipping backwards as her feet came up and clamped around the redhead''s torso. She locked her arms around the one being swung and twisted her core to bring them both to the ground.


    "GET OFF ME, KELLY!!!" Now Homura was raging. "YOU DON''T GET TO DECLARE ME DEAD!!! GET OFF!!!"


    "Both of you stop this immediately."


    Even though neither of them could see Tamashini from their angle, her words landed on them like a guillotine, and their struggling ceased as if they were puppets with their strings cut.


    "Get back in your chairs. This is still a school. I won''t have you two brawling in the middle of the room like a couple of playground brats."


    Each of them fetched their chairs and returned to them in silence, their heads down as if penitent. In the wake of doing so, the brunette wondered if she could have done anything else but what she had been told, but she decided she just didn''t have the energy to be bothered even trying right now. After all, Reina wasn''t an enemy.


    And, in all honesty, she was right.


    ... Even if Red started it.


    She glanced over to the aforementioned girl and saw her grinding her teeth. She was probably thinking mostly along the same lines. Probably not about whether or not she could do something else, though, since she''d only brought up the idea of Command to Reina in private.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    With the room settled down, Haru finally asked Tamashini directly. "Reina, is Riko right? Was that really your premonition?"


    Finally, the president forced her head back in the direction of her teammates. "... Yes. She''s more or less put it together correctly."


    Ran looked down at her homework, tapping her pencil against it. "... Me, too, then," she noted quietly. "That''s why I wasn''t mentioned, either."


    Again, Reina''s head dropped. "... I''m sorry."


    "Stop that."


    The raven-haired girl''s eyes widened at the sharp tone the brunette took as she pushed back out of her chair and to her feet. She looked up at her, and momentarily started to argue. "Kelly, I told you to sit down."


    The urge came to her knees to fold, but she slapped her hands against the table. "And I did! Now I''m telling you to stop this pity party." She noticed the girl''s eyes widen again, but she didn''t care if she shocked her. "They''re not dead! Neither of them are! And neither am I! Stop treating yourself like the Grim Fucking Reaper just because we have the great news that we broke out of the bad end! That''s a GOOD thing! In fact, I demand we celebrate!"


    Haru gave a nervous smile. "Um ... Riko ... most people don''t demand to celebrate like it''s a declaration of war ..."


    Finally, Miss Sada saw reason to insert herself back into the meeting. "While I admire Miss Kelly''s ... intensity, I can''t say I disagree with her sentiment. Knowing that Precognition believes three of you girls should be dead, and yet to have all of you here before me, alive and healthy, my heart can only overflow with elation."


    She stepped forward and put a hand on Reina''s shoulder. "However, we should probably wait to schedule that party. The reason for today''s meeting, after all, is because Precognition has had yet more to say. Isn''t that right, Miss Tamashini?"


    Another vision so soon? No, the brunette reflected. That actually made sense. If they really were supposed to be down to just two Witches at this point, there''s no reason that events wouldn''t move quickly. The demons would taste victory on their tongues and rush for the finish line.


    ... But then, with all five Witches still present, if events were still going to move so quickly, did that mean that Precognition was running off of old information, or was something else driving the demons on a timer the Witches couldn''t see?


    Reina gathered herself for a moment, but then she stood tall before them, and the air of their leader was back around her like a mantle once more.


    "It''s true, I''ve had another vision," she confirmed. "It''s vague, but sometime in the coming week, Dakunaito will seek me out. I believe he intends to eliminate me directly."


    "You believe?" the brunette asked. "That doesn''t sound like it''s part of the vision."


    "It''s not," Reina agreed. "All the vision showed me of the encounter was meeting him, and then flashes of intense exchanges of dark magic, such as I''ve never seen from him before."


    "Yeah, he doesn''t really do magic," Haru added. "I mean, we all know he can, like the time he threw me across the street with it, but he doesn''t like using it in a real fight if he doesn''t have to."


    Natsumi was mulling the idea over. "Still, the whole thing doesn''t sound like him. An assassination hit isn''t his style. He''s more of the full frontal type."


    But the brunette had a different take. "If there aren''t any other Witches left, then it''s not an assassination. It''s a final battle. You could even call it a sign of respect, intending to send his last opponent off with nothing held back between them."


    "You''re right," the redhead nodded. "That sounds very like him."


    Haru puffed her cheeks out in a huff, though. "That''s not funny, Riko! I''m not one of the ones that are supposed to be dead! I wouldn''t let Reina go down fighting alone like that!"


    The brunette gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Haru, I didn''t mean it like that. Actually, that''s probably the reason for the vague timing."


    The whole room was looking at her curiously again, so she explained. "The last time that Reina''s precognition was so vague was when Hisoka was cursed, but the reason why it was vague was that it depended entirely on when Reina was supposed to be alone. Anything that changed that changed when Cho would make her appearance."


    "Except she wasn''t alone," Natsumi pointed out. "You and the entire fencing club were there."


    "That''s right," she nodded back, "but that was strictly because I was there. If Nariko were there, she wouldn''t have been anywhere near the fencing club, and Reina would have been cleaning up after a completely normal club session alone. The conditions of the premonition triggered based on what would have been. Anything I alter isn''t considered in the calculations. That''s why we''re able to change them."


    Haru pumped her fist exuberantly up into the air. "Sword Witch''s passive power is Sequence Breaking!"


    She gave her a flat stare that just made the blonde giggle. "We are not making that a thing, and why are you the one acting so proud of it?"


    "Because I got to name it," her friend replied cheekily, then stuck her tongue out at her. "Bleh."


    Natsumi, on the other hand, was flat-out glaring at the brunette. "That''s a very Kelly idea, but I don''t like the implication that we''re all running loops in a predetermined program just waiting for you to disrupt it."


    But she met the redhead''s gaze without hesitation. "Isn''t that exactly what Precognition is? Predestiny? Predetermination? I admittedly haven''t had much opportunity to see it work as intended, but it''s my understanding our team''s go-to strategy is to imitate it as much as possible to find demon attacks and stop them. Even if it means we die."


    Wakumi, of all people, spoke up. "We do follow it very closely, as it is normally our only forewarning of attacks. It is usually a positive, but until your arrival, I don''t recall a time it has ever turned out wrong. What Precognition foresees always comes to pass."


    The gunmetal girl looked speculatively toward the brunette. "But now that I''ve had time to think about it, isn''t it odd that the only death it directly predicted was that of Thunder Witch? The same premonition knew of our deaths, but strictly in the past tense. That is why Sacred Witch spoke to you the way she did. She looked at us as if seeing ghosts because, in that moment, she knew that we had already died."


    The brunette couldn''t resist a tired grin. "Imagine that, Red''s a ghost afraid of ghosts."


    Natsumi was probably about to start swinging again, but Miss Sada moved to put a hand on her shoulder next while she focused her attention on the speaker.


    "Miss Kelly, I understand that you are tired, but please stop provoking Miss Homura."


    She raised a hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, you''re right. I''m sorry, Nat, that was out of line."


    Natsumi was surprisingly girly when she got petulant, turning away with her arms crossed. "... not afraid of ghosts," she muttered.


    The brunette let the matter drop and turned back to Ran. "To answer your question, I suspect that''s due to the skill''s limitation."


    It was Reina who stared blankly now. "Precognition''s ... limitation?"


    She raised a finger toward her upperclassman. "Have you ever, in all of your life, foreseen an event where you wouldn''t be present for it?"


    The raven-haired girl looked down toward the table, pinching her chin as she considered it. "... No, I don''t think I have. It''s hard to state with absolute certainty, but ..." She shook her head. "No. No, I''m certain. There has never been such an occasion.


    Haru seemed bewildered trying to keep up. "What does that mean for it, though?"


    "It means she never personally witnessed the deaths of Shield Witch and Flame Witch," the brunette provided. "That''s the limitation of Precognition. It can only show her events that she has personally witnessed."


    She paused, wrinkled her nose in consideration of what she just said, then amended it. "Well, what she personally witnessed in the vision. What she is going to personally witness. Timey-wimey. Shut up."


    Her frustration over linguistic precision pulled another giggle from the blonde, but Ran still looked like she was running numbers and Tamashini was chewing on her thumb.


    "So that''s why we died off-screen," the quiet girl noted. "They weren''t major events the main character directly experienced."


    "Damn it, Ran," Natsumi put in, but unlike her angry shouts at the brunette, she sounded more exasperated with her friend. "Stop talking about us like we''re NPCs!"


    "I''m concerned by this weakness," Reina admitted. "Since Sword Witch''s arrival, my Precognition has already been so unreliable, and now to find out that there are whole things it could fail to warn us about just because I''m not there? Isn''t that too much?"


    The brunette tried to put on a sympathetic face. After all, she knew better than most any other Witch what it was like to feel like dead weight. "Any warning is better than none. We''ll just have to keep our eyes open like we''ve always done. It''s not like your premonitions have ever been the only thing we''ve relied on, right?"


    The older girl sighed, closing her eyes. "I appreciate your intentions, Kelly, but how would you feel if you suddenly found yourself oblivious to all of the little things happening around you? And then to find out that the knife that you should have seen only didn''t kill everyone around you by sheer happenstance of the actions of another who shouldn''t have been there in the first place."


    "Like I was suddenly walking on a tight rope without a harness where I''d thought there''d be solid ground," she answered immediately, an analogy that made the president blink. "But ultimately, it doesn''t matter. We''re already on the tight rope, and right now there''s a wannabe samurai flying in on the trapeze that we need to concentrate on first."


    Haru gave her friend a pleading stare. "Please, Riko, you''re taking the circus metaphor too far ..."


    Reina gave a deeper sigh, though, and nodded. "I take your meaning. All I know is that he will come to me while I''m walking home, as I''m coming up on a bridge. There was nothing to indicate an exact day or time."


    Natsumi had already gotten to the point she was snacking, and spoke around a pocky stick. "But if it''s really because we''re dead, since we''re not, are we even sure it''s actually going to happen?"


    "Every time Reina has a premonition," the brunette replied, "even if it''s already been altered, the major event still happens anyway. Someone still came into her office carrying papers at exactly the same time. Cho still showed up when she would have. I still went nose to nose with the train. We were only able to change those events slightly, or alter their context."


    She poked the table for emphasis. "The only variation now may be based on what happens to Haru, but even if we keep her safe, sooner or later, all other conditions will line up and the event will occur, anyway. Dakunaito may have slightly altered motives for why he picked that time or place, like how Cho was inspired by her admiration for Reina, but we have absolutely zero grounds to assume it won''t happen."


    She turned to Reina. "I''m going to stick to Haru like glue all week. To and from school, we''re going to be joined at the hip. Anything that tries to get to her is going to be getting a blade in its belly. In the meantime, Miss President, I recommend you find an alternate route home that doesn''t involve a bridge. That''ll at least put this off as long as possible."


    Haru looked to her friend with worry in her eyes. "I won''t say no to the company, but ... is it really so inevitable?"


    She returned her gaze with a deathly serious one of her own. "To a point, yes. Obviously, we can change elements of it, outcomes from it, but insofar as Reina''s visions show an instigating event? I''ve got a strong hunch those are set in stone."


    * * *


    Her failure was complete. They''d looked up to her as their leader, and what had it gotten them? All of them were gone, and now she was alone. Again. Just like at the beginning.


    At least then, things had been hopeful. She only had herself to worry about because there wasn''t anyone else. Well, there was Miss Sada, but she was always going to be there. That was some small comfort, at least, for what it was worth. The demons couldn''t take the fifth-dimensional being away from her.


    But they could take her away from Sarasa, and she knew the woman blamed herself for their deaths as much as she blamed herself.


    Ultimately, though, that was just the nature of war, as cruel as it was to force that reality on teenagers. Maybe she could hold out until reinforcements were found again. Keep fighting for another year, and another. Find a way through all of the attacks that would come her way now.


    But each failure was another chain bolted into her soul. How many dead could she leave behind before their ghosts dragged her down with them? How much sooner before then would she be unable to lead anyone?


    Her feet stopped as she felt the seal go up, but she was neither frightened nor surprised when the dark warrior stepped out of nothingness to appear between her and the bridge.


    ...


    The blaring of a car horn startled Reina out of her recollection. There was no demon in front of her, no barrier, and no bridge. She stood on the sidewalk ahead of an intersection.


    The bridge in the vision, like most of the surroundings, had been indistinct, but merely turning her head allowed her to see the one she usually crossed on her route home from school. It passed over a river that turned, following the curvature of the hills, before it reached the road she was currently on.


    For the last four days, she''d followed Kelly''s advice. This path added six more blocks to her route home due to the detour, but it had no bridges. She didn''t mind the extra walk, but she had honestly expected something to happen today, some sudden construction or road work that would force her to detour to a route with a bridge.


    That hadn''t happened. Sure, Reina wasn''t home yet, but she was already past any route that could have detoured to a bridge. This intersection was the last one, and was why she''d gotten lost in the memory of her Precognition. She had come up on it expecting this last hurdle to be where something inevitably happened.


    It was Friday, after all, the last opportunity for anything to happen. It had to happen now.


    But nothing had happened to Chiaki, either. Every day that week, Kelly had met the girl at her home instead of the usual reverse, and every day, she walked her back there. She sent Reina regular updates, too. Every morning, like clockwork, she received a text message that they were leaving Haru''s house, then another when they''d arrived uneventfully at school.


    That process repeated in reverse every evening, and she''d already received the notice that Kelly had successfully dropped Chiaki off and was on her own way home.


    Reina forced herself to take a deep breath and exhale it slowly. They were officially off the edge of the map now. All they could do now was keep moving forward and hope there weren''t actually dragons waiting in the fog beyond.


    She took five steps toward the crosswalk before her phone rang, but the call dropped before she could even get it out of her purse.


    Her feet froze, rooted in place, when she read the display.


    MISSED CALL - Kelly, Nariko

 Chapter Thirty

    (30)


    Well, that was it. Nine trips over the last four and a half days, and the last one was over.


    For a week, the brunette had been escorting her best friend from her house to school and back. Honestly, that wasn''t really much different from how they normally operated, at least of a morning, and they''d had the opportunity to visit each others'' clubs while waiting for the other to get out.


    Haru had been ecstatic at getting to spectate an airsoft skirmish, though the brunette still insisted paintball would have been better. The blonde countered by still insisting that she was being a masochist.


    She couldn''t help it, though. Airsoft was already so quiet. For the impact force to also be so relatively low that you could literally see the pellets arc through the air across even relatively short distances, it just took her out of the immersion.


    That didn''t help her case with Haru, of course, who teased her for the idea of actually wanting to get shot at in a believable warzone.


    On the other hand, she was glad that it had been the off week for Haru''s karaoke club. The girl was an angel on the mic, but the brunette had the impression she''d be dragged into trying it, too. Suffice it to say, she didn''t carry a tune quite as well as Haru did.


    Instead, they had a cooking club, which was something the brunette at least knew she wouldn''t embarrass herself with. Unfortunately, it was a club Haru was in specifically to improve her homemaking skills.


    ... Yeah, poor Haru was that girl. She knuckled down and suffered through being the girl''s taste tester and assistant, but it felt more like being an assistant emergency responder and poison control specialist.


    Why in the world she thought baking soda and baking powder were interchangeable, or that she could make up more time with more yeast ...


    ... The important part was that they''d managed to squeeze some ... memorable experiences out of the situation, but now all of the precaution was looking to have been a waste of time.


    The demons hadn''t done a thing. There wasn''t even so much as a whiff of sulfur all week.


    ... Cooking club notwithstanding, and the only demon there was blonde ...


    Of course, Reina''s vision wasn''t actually about Haru, not actively. It was about Dakunaito''s appearance, and it was entirely possible he would choose to do so independently of anything else.


    But, again, it was the end of the week. He was out of time to show. Almost.


    The Witches had one last meeting in the club room before leaving school for the weekend, and Natsumi had again pushed the idea that if Dakunaito didn''t show, they''d broken the prophecy. She and Reina had both again insisted that wasn''t going to happen, but even Ran had put forward that maybe they''d at least misinterpreted the vision.


    They were being premature. That was, if anything, the biggest indication that things were about to go sideways.


    ... Even Haru criticized her for thinking about it too much like the plot of some movie. And, sure, that was a trope for good reason, but it was also a rule of thumb. When everyone''s on high alert, everything goes great. When they start dropping their guard, that''s when problems happen.


    Something pulled her out of her retrospection, a sight that stopped her in her tracks. It was something she''d walked over every day that week, and even more often than that. She was near her favorite resting spot on the bank of the river, but Haru''s house was on the other side of it from her''s. She crossed it every time she went from her house to Haru''s, or from Haru''s to home.


    This completely normal sight had suddenly sent a shiver all the way down her spine.


    She was walking home, coming up on a bridge. She was alone and ruminating about the danger to come.


    She was fulfilling all of the event''s conditions and hadn''t even noticed. She had been the one, not Reina, that Dakunaito had been obsessed with since her arrival. And, unlike in the vision, she wasn''t dead.


    The brunette yanked her phone out of her pocket and didn''t bother opening up the phone book. She keyed the microphone and ordered the device directly.


    "Call Reina."


    The phone rang once and half again ... and then lost all signal as a familiar feeling passed over her.


    There was nothing in front of her. She let her phone drop free-fall from her left hand to free it, golden light flashing into it as she spun around to point the gun behind her.


    ...


    Dakunaito didn''t even flinch at the barrel in his face. "Your instincts are getting better," his barrel voice noted with even temperament. "If you hadn''t hesitated to pull the trigger, it would have been perfect."


    She nearly responded that if she misjudged, she''d have blasted everything behind him, but they were in a seal. There were only echoes of what would actually have been behind him, and no one there to be injured by it.


    She had to admit he was right. There was no valid reason not to go ahead and fire. To do anything less was to forget that nobody involved in this shadow war was human.


    Instead, she stepped back away from him and lowered the weapon, letting it dissipate back to a bracelet around her wrist.


    That made the demon raise an eyebrow. Or, well, narrow one coal red light and expand the other, which gave the impression of the gesture. "And now you dismiss your weapon entirely? Have you grown so mighty, Changeling, that you think you have such a luxury?"


    "You don''t have yours drawn, either," she pointed out. His hand rested on the scabbard, but it only rested. He had made no hostile movement.


    "And you think us equals?"


    "I think you only single me out like this when you want to talk," she countered. "That''s harder to do if we''re trading blows because I picked a fight that didn''t need to happen."


    Those burning coals narrowed again. "You knew I was coming before I arrived. How?"


    So he''d noticed, she thought. "Reina had a premonition that you were going to show up." The brunette crossed her arms. "Funny thing is, the premonition said you were coming for her."


    "... Certainly, if I wanted to kill her directly, it is more than within my power," he agreed, "but it''s a waste of time to target Witches individually. They just run away until their companions arrive. Like trying to swat a gnat with a polearm. What would I have to gain from such nonsense?"


    She hesitated for a moment, measuring her words, and the demonic man in front of her. "Would you believe me if I told you it was because she was the only Witch left alive?"


    He stared back at her, and somehow the shadows within his helmet grew darker. Finally, his eyes both narrowed and burned with brighter intensity. "... Yes."


    Now it was her turn to arch an eyebrow. That reaction of his had been ... interesting. "Seems like both of our sides are having prophecy issues, then."


    But he spun away, swatting his hand through the air in violent dismissal. "Religious zealots, nothing more!" He paused, though, and his eyes glowed in thought. "But if their prophesies are in agreement with those of Sacred Witch, perhaps I haven''t been giving them the credit they deserve."


    Dakunaito shook his head. "It does not matter. They are wrong, regardless. All of the Witches yet live, and reality does not care for the state of their scales."


    "Scales?"


    The demon paused, looking back at her and clearly questioning if this segue was worth continuing. Finally, he turned to fully face her again. "The scales are both a metaphor and a divining tool. As the former, it refers to the state of the conflict between the Witches and the Demons. Their faithful believe that when it tips fully in our favor, a being known as the Arbiter will come and bring us to a new world."


    The brunette wrinkled her nose. "You guys have an entire religion based on our defeat? Haven''t we only been around for a few years?"


    His sigh sounded gutteral. "To be honest, it is difficult to pinpoint when the belief began, but it is rampant among the upper echelon. Even the Imperial House are believers, and the faith, itself, claims to be ancient beyond measure."


    He focused his gaze on her. "More to the matter, however, like Sacred Witch, they insist that the conflict should be at an end, and the Arbiter''s coming is nigh, even though every reading of the scales shows that they remain in balance."


    "And this new world he''s supposed to bring you to," she questioned, "what is that, some kind of heaven?"


    "We demons are immortal beings," Dakunaito answered sternly. "We have no concept of an afterlife. When we die, our energies are drawn back together until we reform. The new world is exactly that. Our native one is miserable and barren compared to the world you know. It is why even those that don''t follow the prophets, such as myself, still continue the fight to conquer yours."


    "Our shadow war," she summarized, "is a territorial dispute."


    The demon nodded. "But it wouldn''t solve the problem. If we die in another world, no matter how long we''ve been there, no matter what provisions we make, we will still reappear in our native one. Even across time and space, our essence remains bound to that wretched place. The faithful believe the Arbiter won''t just grant us a new, better world, but he will make it our native world, so that even upon death, we will not return to the land of our birth."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "And now that they may actually be onto something?"


    Dakunaito lowered his head as his eyes narrowed. "Then it is even worse. The reason I find the oracles and their beliefs so repulsive is because they are short-sighted and narcissistic. Demonkind is few in number and yet constantly feuds against itself. Only the emperor''s might as the strongest demon to ever live holds us on a single task. Even if the Arbiter does exist, and even if he grants us Paradise, itself, we will burn it down to spite one another."


    He had begun to pace, gesticulating furiously as he ranted. "What we need is reform. What we need is an entire cultural shift. What we need is an outlet for our destruction that isn''t centered on ourselves! We need--"


    But with visible effort, he locked his emotions down again and turned back to the Witch before him. "It does not matter," he growled. "I am not the emperor, and you are not a demon. It is none of our concern, and only derails us further."


    "You want to talk about the train," she guessed, though she said it like a statement of fact.


    Those lights within his helmet narrowed again, a motion which only seemed to make them burn brighter. "If all of the prophesies truly align, that protodemon was to be your death."


    Yeah, she figured that was what he had issue with.


    "That''s actually your fault," she told him, and didn''t miss how the grip on his scabbard tightened. "Without the sword, we couldn''t have severed the train cars and reduced the mass behind it. That made it light enough for me to stop."


    "Flame Witch did that." Now she knew he''d been watching, not that he hadn''t been her top suspect for the attack in the first place. "What was supposed to kill her?"


    "We''re figuring it was Wren screwing with her ancestral armor," she provided. "She''d have been alone and it inherited the same fire resistance she did."


    "Alone?" he repeated. "The entire lot of you were there."


    "Yes," the brunette confirmed, "because we were testing the demon weapons."


    Again, he growled. "And the other two? Don''t tell me that idiotic puppet--" He paused, and the expression he gave made her think of a scowl. "No, it absolutely could have killed that useless brat."


    "Haru really doesn''t have any combat instincts at all," she agreed, choosing to ignore how he was talking about her best friend. "But Thunder Witch still would have been there, and Marione definitely couldn''t have taken her."


    He nodded in agreement. "Then the constructs on the train?"


    "Nope, surprisingly, she handled those all on her own. Our current speculation is that she was to die to a demon attack sometime in the last week."


    "Those two clowns were heard planning another attack," Dakunaito informed her, "but they backed out, something about the triteness of repeating the same play twice. I don''t pretend to understand their nonsense."


    The brunette nodded back. "Then we figure Ran was supposed to lose to Mr. Sato. We don''t know if Thunder Witch still would have gotten captured like I did, but if she had, it''s possible she couldn''t break out in time, and if she hadn''t, Ran would have been alone."


    "A common theme among all of what should have been successful attacks," the warrior mused. "And yet, in every time, they weren''t alone specifically because you were there, the weapons I gave you uniquely beneficial."


    "They weren''t much good against Mr. Sato," she corrected him, "and they didn''t play a part in the last week, except in making sure I lived to see it."


    His eyes burned brighter. "You claim to be the key aspect, yourself? Presumptuous, changeling."


    "Not because I''m me," she clarified, "but because I''m not supposed to be here. We''ve tested it as much as we could with the scarcity of visions, but every time I''m somewhere Nariko Kelly wouldn''t be, that''s when things go off the rails."


    Dakunaito gripped the bottom of his helmet like a human might their chin. "I don''t like this implication, changeling."


    "Let me guess," she replied with a smirk, "not a fan of the idea that we''re all just running loops in a predetermined program?"


    He scowled back at her. "Which one?"


    "Flame Witch," she provided the source of the phrase.


    He was silent for a moment, no doubt shuffling past the inane statements he suspected would be repeating more of what the Witches, themselves, had already said.


    "So our victory was preordained," he finally concluded, "and only your interference denied us our due."


    Despite his perpetual threatening demeanor, the brunette arched an eyebrow. "I didn''t figure you for the type that would accept a victory handed to him by fate."


    That made his eyes flare as he swiped his hand across the space between them. "I am not! I would despise such a thing with every fiber of my being! Let me win by the sweat of my own brow or end me where I stand!"


    She wisely opted not to ask if his brow was actually capable of sweating.


    As he settled, he turned away and pulled something out of that non-space he seemed to store things within. "These are serious matters and will require investigation, but they are not why I came here, and our time is limited."


    He looked toward her around his shoulder. "Changeling, your equipment is incomplete. I withheld the final piece from you because I did not wish to encourage you into foolishness. I wanted only to avoid your elimination before I determined what had happened to the true Thunder Witch. I see now, however, that my precaution was short-sighted."


    Dakunaito turned to face her entirely, a golden choker in his hand, inlaid with a luminescent blue band. The appearance of evangelium and hordestadt was immediately recognizable.


    "I now believe that you would have found a way to fight had I done nothing, as foolhardy as it would have been for you to do so. Should you have shown no promise, however, I still would have kept the final piece from you. There is a deadly difference between being willing to fight and being capable of it, and I have no intention of accelerating a fool''s inevitable demise."


    He lifted the metal ring up before his eyes, but then paused and tilted his head toward her as if wondering if he still had her attention. "Changeling, what have I said?"


    Perhaps Thunder Witch would have given him reason to have such a worry, but she''d been listening closely. "There''s still a piece meant to go with my sword and gun that you''ve held onto," she rephrased. "You only wanted to keep me alive because I was your only clue to finding the real Nariko and weren''t going to help me get myself killed instead because I got carried away with the power."


    The demonic knight gave a slow nod as he mentally checked her words against his own. "I do not feel shame that the train failed to kill you. You conducted yourself with wisdom and bravery, and without the shameless arrogance of those other children. You impressed me, Changeling, and that is no small feat."


    His eyes narrowed. "Make no mistake, however, I am not your ally. If you continue to associate with the Witches, I will not take steps to avoid you. If you should do so regardless, however ..." Dakunaito dismissively flipped the metal piece toward her, leaving it to her to catch it.


    "Then this belongs to Sword Witch."


    The brunette did catch it, and she turned it over in her hands. It was an incomplete semicircle, big enough to fit around her neck with a gap about an inch wide between the two ends.


    "Please let me give you a proper answer, then, Dakunaito," she said finally, and took several more steps back from him.


    She could look like she was forming a card of magic like the other Witches because of the transformation wand, itself disguised on her person. As her nail polish, of all things. Truly, the thing was entirely too convenient. She hurled the electric rectangle above her head with a shout.


    "TRANSFORM!"


    Once the light faded and the fake transformation concluded, Sword Witch looked down at the necklace still within her hands.


    "Dakunaito, I''m not Thunder Witch, and I''m only borrowing the name of Nariko Kelly. I don''t have a transformation. These clothes I''m wearing are nothing more than a magic trick. But Sword Witch is real. She''s a flame of raw willpower that can''t be put out, even by erasure or forbiddance. She won''t be killed, even if this body is destroyed. I won''t stop doing what must be done when those around me are in danger, whoever they may be and whoever I have to fight."


    She raised the choker to her neck and pressed it against her. It slid into place, but sat there, cold and heavy, for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and focused on it like she did for the fencing foil, like she did for her gun.


    "Because I am Sword Witch." The power surged through her like a mixture of adrenaline and caffeine. Her body felt lighter than it ever had, every movement begging to unleash force untold. Her brain felt illuminated by bolts of power, and as she opened her eyes again, that power flashed across her eyes. "And that''s who I am."


    The black knight nodded in stern approval.


    Before another word could be said, a great pressure slammed down upon both of them, pushing both demon and witch to their knees as they cried out in protest of the force. Dark energies flashed around Dakunaito as he attempted to keep from being flattened against the pavement completely, and Sword Witch felt the same way, struggling with the unfamiliarity of her newest component to pull enough energy out of it.


    "What a travesty."


    Those words came from neither of them, but from a third, a man with long, cream-colored hair kept behind him with a single band and ring tied just above his shoulders. He wore a pure white robe-like garment that sat on him in a manner that gave the impression of a suit.


    His chest was bare down the middle where the top and whatever he wore underneath was opened down to the waist. The cloth underneath the robe was bright crimson, and it matched a wrap he wore around his waist like an extremely wide belt. The pants of the robe came too far down to see his shoes, but they clicked loudly against the sidewalk.


    "You had a chance, you know," he was saying as he continued his approach, unbothered by whatever field held them down and no doubt the source. "You had a completely fresh start. All you had to do was what any sane person would do."


    The man stopped next to the brunette and knelt down to look her in the eyes. "I was even going to leave whatever went wrong with your transfer alone. Maybe it would lead to a different result. A one in a trillion trillion opportunity."


    The stranger took her chin in his hand, lifting it up to make her look right at him. "And I''ll admit, you had me going. For a while, you really seemed to be making it work."


    And then he backhanded her with his other hand, nearly making her stumble to the ground under the still-constant pressure. His voice grew angry. "But a blip kept growing! You couldn''t just use the weapons of your enemy against them, no! You had to understand them! You had to chat with them at every opportunity!"


    The man grabbed her face again, then harder when she tried to pull it away. "And then, when you finally overcame your own death, when you finally succeeded in pulling all of you, kicking and screaming, further than you''ve ever reached before, the first thing you do is start dealing with the very demons that you''re here for in the first place!"


    He raised his hand to strike her again, but stopped short, released her chin and stood. As he walked away from them about a dozen yards, he continued. "There are no words in any language in all of existence to express my disappointment, my anger! You never learn! None of you! You are determined to sin over and over, no matter how many opportunities you''re given!"


    Sword Witch fought to raise her head to meet Dakunaito''s eyes. "Wow," she spoke with difficulty once she''d done so, "somebody likes to talk. How long do you think he''s been holding that in for?"


    Rather than answering the witch, Dakunaito forced his head around to eye the figure. "You are no demon. Who are you?"


    The man didn''t smile at the question so much as his mouth twisted up in a disgusted snarl. "Oh, does the mightiest demon not recognize me? Were you not told of my imminent arrival? I am the one you know as the Arbiter, and I am very disappointed with your performance, Lord Dakunaito. Not a single Witch dead, and all because you put your own desires ahead of my commandments."


    Against the strain of whatever field they were under, Dakunaito snarled back. "I don''t answer to you ... Arbiter or no, I am no man''s dog!"


    The man laughed at his defiance. "Ah, but you are, Dakunaito. You all are, Demon and Witch alike. I am the Arbiter because it is my role to oversee and judge your eternal struggle, in the vain hope that one day, such failures could change their ways."


    "Eternal?" the brunette asked, catching a thread among his bloviating. "How long have we been playing this game of yours?"


    Arbiter chuckled and held his hands out to either side in a shrug. "Would you consider me weaseling out if I said it''s impossible to say? Time is too flexible a thing, you shouldn''t be so quick to use it as a metric. A heartbeat and forever. That''s poetic, and true enough."


    He held a palm out toward them both. "But that''s enough talking for now. Good news, Dakunaito! I''m giving you a chance to correct your mistakes!"


    In front of Sword Witch''s eyes, the swordsman began to twitch and spasm as his body stood up against the field, almost as if strings were drawing him upward. His growls grew into screams as his dark energy began to flare in earnest.


    "And for you, Savannah," Arbiter continued, "one final lesson. I''ll show you the true colors of the monsters you seek to bargain with. A pity it''s not one you''ll remember in your next life, but you have only yourself to blame. You''ve broken everything, and now I''ve got to come in and clean it all up."


    The moment the field lifted, Sword Witch launched herself backwards. That same instant, Dakunaito''s black sword crashed down where she had been, burning like a bonfire of pure darkness. The impact erupted into a crater as concrete and asphalt flew in every direction with the force of a hurricane.


    Behind his puppeted demon, the Arbiter snarled at her in much the same way he had to Dakunaito.


    "Better luck next time."

 Chapter Thirty-One

    (31)


    She regretted that her first time using the choker had so immediately become a raw fight for survival. This was the power denied to her as a Witch without a transformation, and it was the most addicting sensation she''d ever experienced.


    She knew that she had been a thrill-seeker in her own life, a trait she suspected she shared with Nariko Kelly. She''d done things just to prove that she could do them, just because they were dangerous, just because others had said it couldn''t be done. She had been daring, reckless, bold and flamboyant.


    The more dangerous and impossible something was supposed to be, the more it reached out to her with a siren''s call she couldn''t resist if she wanted to.


    But this? This was pure lightning in her veins. No jump, no shootout, no daring escape could compare to this. She wanted to savor it, explore it, push it to its limits. She wanted to sprint across rooftops and leap across the city. She wanted to find a cop with a radar and see how hard she could break it.


    Instead, she was re-enacting her first night in this life, trying to avoid getting sliced to pieces by an angry knight''s black sword.


    Dakunaito was as incoherent as he was relentless. There was none of the toying slashes he''d once used while waiting for her to transform, only flashes of darkness as he incessantly pursued her with attacks empowered by magic the likes of which she''d never seen from him. The whole time, he screamed as if half of him was in a murderous rage and the other half was being carved apart by ravens.


    Behind him, at the edge of the bridge, stood the Arbiter, a man of indiscriminate age and unquestionable power. He''d effortlessly disabled both of them, then just as easily taken over the most willful demon she''d ever met. His former rage was gone, and he just watched them with a serenity that pissed her off even more.


    Dakunaito kept hounding her. Every time she came to a stop, she''d swing her own blade to try to parry his attacks away, but that dark energy made his swings heavier than they should have been even coming from him, and she''d have to break away again to avoid it.


    She slid backwards to a stop from their latest clash and immediately ducked under a horizontal swing as he appeared in front of her again, then spun to the side to avoid the follow-up kick. Even as she came around to what had been his side, she was already swinging her golden blade down because he''d turned on his heel and chased her with a diagonal slash.


    Golden light flashed and dark fire burned as the blades impacted, but as with every time before, hers was sent recoiling back further, leaving her more open and more hurried to counter the next one. He took the opening to spin all of the way around for a momentum-backed horizontal swing from the other direction, and this time, she jumped away.


    Sword Witch landed thirty feet back and was already gathering luminous energy around her free hand. Unlike the other Witches, she didn''t need to do a full chant and dance to cast the spells she''d copied, meaning she was able to get it off even as he was charging at her.


    "SHINING LANCE!"


    Perhaps if Dakunaito were in his right mind, he could have countered or dodged it, but under the control of the Arbiter, his only thought was of turning her into a Witch fillet. Instead of avoiding it, he ran headlong at her as he had been doing the entire time, and even he couldn''t avoid a laser once it was already in flight.


    The beam crashed over him, and to surprise she hadn''t expected, he staggered, clutching his face as his split screams became a little less half and half and leaned a little more toward the pain side.


    Dakunaito was weak to light magic. It made sense, in a rock paper scissors sort of way, but was it really that easy?


    No, it wasn''t. She got her answer as he reached his offhand toward her even though he was clearly still blinded from the spell, and a great pressure enveloped her. This, then, was the telekinesis that he had used to throw Haru before.


    The Arbiter''s field had felt like a colossal increase in gravity, but this was a barrier that surrounded her from all angles, a mighty, all-enveloping fist that bound her limbs against her body. Dakunaito held her there as he regathered his wits, but she was sure that as soon as he could see straight, he''d be running her through, maybe even pull her right onto his sword.


    She had to break free of it before that happened, but she couldn''t so much as lift her arm. She had to overwhelm it, but without being able to move, there was only one thing she could think of that could do the trick.


    With the choker, her magic flowed, not necessarily more potently, but much more quickly, as if its energies running through whatever composed her magical veins already supercharged them, and she pushed her magic as fast as she could into the only other spell she knew.


    The fireball erupted around her and she collapsed to one knee, heaving as the explosion took all of the air out of the space, including her lungs, for a flash of a moment. Her costume, not enhanced like her body, was seriously burnt, but even her body hurt. It was a nasty reminder that she may have had Natsumi''s spell, but that didn''t mean she had her fire resistance.


    She could say without a doubt now that Dakunaito hadn''t been overestimating his abilities. Fighting him like this was wearing her down fast. She''d yet to do anything meaningful to him, and she''d been on the back foot the entire time. There was no telling how much longer she could keep up the level of output necessary to keep her head attached to her shoulders.


    The Arbiter seemed to be of a different opinion. His smug serenity had dented as he twisted his face into another frown.


    "Damnable demon," he shouted over at them. "Under my control, and still you resist my commands?! No amount of dawdling will save either of you! Stop toying with her and obey my will!"


    Sword Witch didn''t like the idea that this had been Dakunaito still pulling punches, mostly because she had the firm impression that was about to stop.


    The Arbiter threw his hand toward the dark knight. "Release your seal, demon, and hesitate no longer!" The dark energy redoubled as Dakunaito bent over himself, gripping as much of his body as he could get his arms around. "Destroy this sinner with all of your full power!"


    The knight''s screams reached new decibels as he threw his head back and, like an explosion of pitch-black flame, a dome of shadow energy swelled out of him with such speed that, even as Sword Witch jumped away, the field caught up and flung her down the street.


    When the energy faded, Dakunaito stood up straight again. He was no longer screaming. He was no longer making any sounds at all. Nor was he wildly attacking as if driven by madness.


    And as he turned to face her, the horns of his helmet were more pronounced and ornate, his body was so large that there were gaps between the sections of his armor, and a metal face guard covered the void within so that only the burning coals of his eyes stared out.


    But what struck her most of all were the wings. Great feathered limbs, each as long as he formerly was tall when fully outstretched, as they were now. They were glossy like oil and black as pitch, and they struck a deep, indescribable chord in her.


    ... No, it wasn''t quite indescribable, because she''d felt it once before. When she''d first laid eyes on Reina. Did that mean that this, too, was a sight she''d seen in the last moments before finding herself in Nariko''s body?


    She couldn''t imagine it. Nothing like that existed in her world. Demons and witches didn''t exist. Gods and monsters didn''t exist. Magic swords and sorcery didn''t exist. There was no way this was something she''d ever laid eyes on.


    So why did she know she had?


    "DARKNESS CRUSHER!!!"


    She wasn''t permitted the time to ponder all of the implications. With that declaration, the reformed Dakunaito''s sword ignited in blacklight flame and he charged to bring it down on her.


    With no way of knowing what it would do, she jumped away, but when the blow struck the ground instead, the concrete exploded in every direction. A great crater remained, six feet long and three wide, deep enough that the edges of the concrete were tumbling down into the visible maintenance tunnel system below.


    With ice in her stomach, she recalled her boast of the strength of bone to concrete, and how the demonic swordsman could barely damage the latter.


    No, focus! Self-doubt was literally death. She had to focus!


    What were her options? She couldn''t keep running. She understood now that was just a slow path to exhaustion. What was her specialty? Observation. She had to figure out what she was working with.


    When Dakunaito swung again, she deliberately stood her ground, intercepting the attack with both hands on her sword.


    The demon''s blow forced her to her knee in an instant as a shockwave of force spread out underneath her. Even with her absorbing so much of the blow, the concrete beneath her caved and splintered.


    She didn''t dare think about what that would have done to her without the collar.


    Like the cursed armor before, leverage was by far on his side, and his black flames seemed determined to force her into the ground, as if it couldn''t actually exhaust the force of its strike. Rather than turning into a contest of their own limbs, his blade seemed locked within the initial blow, continuing through magic to hammer her with the impact.


    She forced her will into the edge of her own blade, sought that unshakable determinism that Shield Witch possessed as she demanded her own sword not yield even as her own arms began to protest.


    The strongest a given quantity of force could be was when it was focused on the smallest point possible. That was the reason for a blade''s cutting edge. A sword cut instead of smashed because it directed the force of the swing to so narrow a point that it split the mass it struck apart from itself.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    But right now, she didn''t care about the whole edge. There was only one point along the entirety of the sword that she cared about - the point of contact. With both edges colliding, that precious surface area was a fraction of a hair''s width, and she bent all of her will to commanding it to hold.


    No, not just to hold. To cut.


    The blue fuller of the blade grew brighter and brighter, but in her mind, she directed that gathering energy to the point of contact, struggling in her simplistic understanding of the principles involved to force both her power and her blade to obey her.


    Dakunaito''s darkness grew greater as well, pushing back as if he understood what she was attempting and sought to counter her.


    Then it clicked. Aside from the intensity, this power felt exactly the same as what he''d been using before the Arbiter transformed him. This dark weight that made his blows heavier and more undeniable. He''d been using it all along. Why, then, did he say the name after he transformed? Why didn''t he just keep doing what he''d done all along?


    That was when she realized he had yet to speak again since the initial casting. He was maintaining it without any chants. Aside from the one time, he''d been casting it without incantation all along.


    With the sole exception of the telekinesis, this had been the only technique he''d displayed for the entire fight. Why? Surely, he must have more. And he knew that she copied spells. Now that she knew this was one, if he kept using it, he had to figure it was only a matter of time before--


    Her eyes widened, and for a fraction of a heartbeat, the struggle between them faded from her awareness.


    Now that she knew ... he had to figure ... he kept using it ...


    Damn that clever bastard ... Did he really give the name just so she''d realize it was a spell? How much of him was really still in there, fighting the Arbiter tooth and nail?


    No, that didn''t matter. What did she know about darkness magic? If Dakunaito''s darkness element was anything like Reina''s, it was commanding, authoritative.


    How did Reina describe it? She told her magic what to do, and it obeyed.


    Reina controlled her magic in a way the other Witches didn''t. She ruled it. Like a slave, it heeded her desires regardless of its own nature. Like a tyrant, her greatest desire was destruction. The destruction of her enemies. The destruction of curses. The destruction of obstacles.


    What was the nature of the destruction Dakunaito desired with this spell? Her own destruction was not a sufficient explanation. What was it destroying in order to accomplish destroying her?


    The physical destruction of matter, yes, but that, too, was not answer enough. Really, it was only repeating the first answer in a different way.


    She focused her perception on the feelings she got from the attack. Oppressive weight. Unyielding force.


    Reina was a Ruler, but Dakunaito was a Conqueror.


    The desire that his magic was answering to was to crush his opposition beneath his boot and grind their remains under his heel.


    Yes, she could feel the pieces coming together in her mind, the combination to the safe that held what he had called Darkness Crusher. But she restrained it and relaxed that mental muscle.


    She had no interest in testing her own desire to Conquer against his. It couldn''t change anything meaningful, and as the true user of the technique, he would certainly overwhelm her own amateur usage of it.


    She would never expect Fireball to be meaningfully effective against Natsumi. The same logic applied here.


    Instead, if his previous reaction was anything to judge by, he could be directly countered by Light-element magic.


    She focused on the sensations behind Shining Lance. It was more than spectacle, more than flair and a desire to pull attention away from others. There was a deeper undercurrent behind that.


    The brunette had seen Haru heal wounds, pull away curses, and dazzle her foes. She''d even seen her jump into direct combat.


    ... Even if that last one was only a spectacular display for how bad the blonde was at it. And yet Haru knew she was bad at it, and did it anyway.


    Behind every action Haru ever took was a desire to preserve something. Because she cared about that thing. Because she loved that thing. She didn''t just want to protect it from injury, as Ran did. She wanted to protect it from harm. To preserve its happiness, its purity.


    Could the brunette bring herself to a mindset where she could feel that way toward Dakunaito?


    Haru could. She didn''t doubt that for a minute. If there was a reason to save Dakunaito, Haru could find it within herself to do so in an instant, even if there was no chance doing so would change the dark warrior in any way.


    Because it was necessary. Because it was what he needed.


    But Haru wasn''t here. It was just Sword Witch. And yet Dakunaito needed it all the same. And she needed it. And all of the other Witches needed it, and Yoshi needed it, and Cho needed it, and Anna needed it. Because if she didn''t do it, all of them would suffer for it.


    She tried to encapsulate all of that into a single feeling, a single emotion. A desperate desire to protect. And instead of projecting it into a beam, she pushed that desire into her sword, into that singular point of contact.


    It was the nature both of thought and of combat that all of this passed in a handful of moments, and still she knelt under Dakunaito''s sword as her body struggled to push it away from her.


    But the glow of the weapon increased again, and again, that glow filled the atomic gap between their blades. Again, Dakunaito''s own darkness surged to counteract it. This was no longer a clash of blades, but a contest of wills.


    The light within the gap continued to gather as the brunette focused her mind, not on the blade above her head, not the one in her hands, but on everyone and everything at stake if she failed to act, how it would make them feel, and how knowing they felt that way would make her feel.


    And through that focus, she drove every drop of her mana.


    The radiance of the light spilled out until it was too bright to see. All details of their surroundings faded into obscurity until only she and Dakunaito remained. And then only their swords. And, finally, only the light.


    Yoshi would be lonely, never knowing what happened to his sister. Anna would know, and that would be so much worse.


    Marcus and Saki would spend all of their remaining days questioning what took their daughter from them. In the absence of answers, they would tell themselves she might still live, somewhere else. A fairy tale they know in their hearts to be a lie.


    Miss Sada would feel personally responsible, like she''d led a child of her own to her death. And twice over, too, since they''d yet to find an answer about Nariko. It would be better if the fifth-dimensional being blamed Sword Witch, but she wouldn''t. All of Sarasa''s blame would be for her own shoulders.


    Reina would have survivor''s guilt, and a heavy blow to her confidence in herself as a leader. This was, after all, meant to be her death.


    Ran would fret over all of the ways it might have gone differently if they had all been there together instead of Sword Witch being singled out.


    Natsumi would be furious. At her, at Dakunaito, and especially at the Arbiter. How dare Sword Witch die to some pansy loser like him, how dare Dakunaito let himself be puppeted by him. She''d go berserk if the others didn''t stop her, which was really just cover for her own pain of loss she couldn''t admit.


    Haru, poor Haru, would be devastated. Losing her best friend all over again, the one person in all the world that understood what she went through. She could picture the blonde, sitting in her chair in the club room, slumped like Marione with its strings cut with crystal clarity.


    Dakunaito, too. She knew exactly how he would feel if she failed here.


    She opened her eyes against the all-encompassing light and focused on where his face should be. She could almost see its outline through the pulsing rays.


    "I promise," she swore to him through the strain in her muscles and the concentration it took to hold her mind in such a frame, "I won''t disappoint you."


    And the light truly encompassed all there was to see.


    * * *


    As the glare finally faded enough for the Arbiter to lower his arm, a blur of darkness was the first thing he registered before a black sword crashed into the street mere feet from where he stood. A second, golden blur shot into the sky an instant later.


    Against the light of the setting sun, eyes limited by this plane of existence couldn''t clearly make out the details, but that quickly proved a non-issue.


    "DARKNESS CRUSHER!!!"


    Thunder-- No, Sword Witch''s voice screamed from the air above him as black flames engulfed her golden blade, and as if its weight pulled her down, she plummeted toward him at a terrifying velocity.


    He parried her attack with a sword of his own, summoned from nothing, with a triangular blade three feet long. Whatever she thought to accomplish by attacking him, it would be in vain. The laws that bound her concept of reality didn''t apply to him. Her failure was as certain as if she sought to strike a god.


    She didn''t seem to care. If anything, the way she immediately drew back to cut from another angle the moment after the impact rang out suggested she expected it. With reckless abandon, she rained blows empowered by dark magic down on him in rapid succession. One after another, she continued her assault even as he intercepted them.


    He wasn''t forced to take a step back until a second sword joined hers. Dakunaito, his form reverted, held his retrieved blade and assaulted him with the same black technique.


    A distraction. It was all to trick him into dropping his concentration on the demon. Even as his steps moved him back toward the bridge, he burned with indignity in the knowledge that he had fallen for the guile of lesser lifeforms. It didn''t matter, but that didn''t make it any less insulting.


    They were sinners, true, but he had to admire the constant awareness they had of the location of the other and the coordination with which they launched their attacks. This couldn''t have been planned in any way, yet they never once moved their blades in a way to interfere with the other.


    Such potential, thrown away in blind arrogance. The things they could have done if they hadn''t been so determined to repeat their same transgressions over and over again.


    He had indulged them long enough, and he could feel the pressures outside of existence growing. The time he could waste on them was nearly gone.


    He drew his sword arm back and thrust his other hand forward, rewriting the law of gravity through an act of will until it slammed both of them to the asphalt in front of him once more.


    The Arbiter let the sword return to the atomic mass around him again, as well, as he exhaled a sigh.


    "Very well," he declared, his gaze down upon them as stern as the divine judgment he represented. "You have refused to accept the penalty for your sins. Know that the mercy of a quick punishment will not be offered again."


    He pointed his finger down upon their crumpled forms. "What comes next, know that it is all the consequences of your actions here today, and bear that guilt upon your soul, you so-called Sword Witch, until I come for you again."


    * * *


    "There they are!"


    The intense pressure beating down on her body vanished with the sensation of the seal, and she pushed herself up with a groan as she looked back to see the other Witches.


    She had hardly gotten herself to her feet before Flare Witch slammed into her, blubbering all the while.


    "Riko! I was so worried! Reina saw your call and we all rushed over here, but we couldn''t get in! No matter what we tried! We thought we were going to have to call Sarasa!"


    The blonde blinked, recognizing something was off, squeezed Sword Witch''s middle again and realized they were still vertical. She leaned back to look in confirmation, and finally gave an embarrassed smile. "Eheh, hey, Riko, have you been working out? You didn''t even topple ..."


    The brunette frowned down at the transformed witch. "So you admit you were trying to knock me over?"


    The girl''s smile turned into a humiliated grin as she tried to come up with an excuse.


    Sacred Witch saved her from having to reply as she stepped toward the witch and the demon. "You two don''t look like you were fighting each other when the seal went down. What happened in there?"


    The brunette looked to Dakunaito, but he seemed to ignore the question, simply sheathing his blade again. That was when she realized they were all behaving very calmly for being out in the open, but a quick look around showed that they were still alone.


    "Are we in another seal?"


    Reina nodded. "That''s right. There were two. The first one, we entered without issue, but the second repelled our every attempt."


    The first one must have been Dakunaito''s, then, while the second would have been the Arbiter''s. A seal within a seal. She didn''t even know that was possible, but quickly decided there was no reason it wouldn''t be.


    "We were both attacked by somebody calling himself the Arbiter," she answered finally, "a judgment figure from demon mythology. I wouldn''t say we drove him off, exactly, but we were able to make ourselves enough of a nuisance for him to find something else to do."


    "This Arbiter guy was that powerful?" The question came from Flame Witch, who looked like she''d be wanting a fight if she didn''t find the claim so unbelievable.


    "It doesn''t matter." When Dakunaito finally spoke, it was with an absolute tone of declaration. "I hold no belief that I stood against a god today, whatever his claims. When I find out the truth of the matter, I will kill him for his hubris."


    "I might have a lead on that."


    The brunette''s words captured everyone''s attention, even the demon lord''s.


    "But first, we need to speak with Sada." Sword Witch focused her gaze directly on Dakunaito. "And you should be there."

 Chapter Thirty-Two

    (32)


    It was an odd thing to see Dakunaito, in full armor, standing in the middle of the fountain shop. Nothing could have possibly looked more out of place. Thanks to Miss Sada''s obfuscation magic, however, everyone else remained blissfully ignorant that anything was wrong with the sight.


    The teacher approached him with a smile and held out her hand. "Lord Dakunaito, what a rare pleasure. To what do I owe the honor?"


    He, of course, completely ignored the proffered limb. "I don''t yet know. I was told there was something important I needed to be here for." His red eyes narrowed. "If that is not the case, then I suggest you better educate your changeling on the consequences of wasting a demon''s time."


    "Changeling?" The inquiry came from Natsumi. It wasn''t surprising that the question came up. After all, only Haru had ever been around to hear him use that title before, and no one had been around when he determined it.


    It really wasn''t surprising that Wakumi was quick to provide the answer to her friend. "European folklore," her quiet voice filled in. "A fairy child left in substitution when they kidnap a human. He is referring to the fact that she is not Nariko, but fills in for her."


    "Do not attempt to speak for me, Witch," he growled irritably, a tone which caused the waifish girl to flinch away. "I speak as I intend to be heard. I hold no patience for flowery metaphors."


    "Ah, yes," Miss Sada inserted again. "Miss Kelly mentioned your deduction was that Thunder Witch had actually been abducted by a third party."


    "The changeling does not conform to the limitations of either witches or demons," the dark knight countered, motioning with his offhand as if to illustrate his thoughts. "The things she has done violate too many laws. It is as if she were an imperfect duplicate, made by an entity who only understands that a Witch is to be a powerful magical prodigy, and that Thunder Witch has analytical capabilities. In no other way does she behave according to our world."


    "And since she can do things that we believe Thunder Witch could not," the teacher filled in, "the only logical conclusion is that she cannot be Thunder Witch."


    The dark knight just gave his glowering gaze, as if he felt like any response would necessitate the thing he hated most - repeating himself.


    Ran spoke up in the silence, instead, though if it weren''t silent, it might have been hard to hear her. "That would actually also conform with a changeling, ironically. One of the identifying traits is being too intelligent, with an unsettlingly keen sense of intuition."


    Poor Haru looked entirely out of her depth in the conversation. "But that''s just normal Riko!"


    The glow of Dakunaito''s eyes intensified in clear irritation. "When that one believes she has something substantive to add to a conversation, it is certain to have run its course."


    He didn''t at all give the puffed cheeks of her pout the slightest recognition as he turned to the brunette. "The point, changeling. Now."


    She looked to him, then down at her hand, where a familiar double-edged short sword appeared as the bracelet on her wrist vanished.


    "As a reminder to everyone here," the brunette explained briefly, "demon weapons are mimetic. They adjust to the user. But mine does more than just adjust. It would even be appropriate to say that it is not a sword at all."


    She turned the blade around and held the hilt to Dakunaito. "Please, indulge this. The demonstration is important to the end result."


    The greater demon''s eyes narrowed, but he took the blade in hand, and immediately, the too-small grip fit his own perfectly as the blade flashed out into a massive tsurugi, in no way smaller than his own blade, with a bulbous skull-cracker and a cross-guard in the form of crescent horns or fangs.


    "If anything," she continued, "my blade is the concept of a sword. Specifically, the wielder''s concept." She motioned Dakunaito to pass the weapon to the Witch closest to him.


    When Ran''s timid hands closed about the hilt and the demon released it, the flash of light made her yelp. The result was by far the shortest blade they''d seen. It wasn''t a sword at all, but a large kitchen knife.


    The sloppy circle hung in silence for a moment at the sight, even as Ran still held it out before her pointed toward the ground like it was a loaded gun.


    "As you can see," the brunette improvised, "it doesn''t matter if the user understands what a sword is, or could even list all of the different types from across the world. It doesn''t even matter if they know the concept is--"


    Ran had been all too eager to pass the weapon on, which led to a disruptive thunk when it entered Haru''s grip. Now, there was a six-foot-long buster chain sword with a hollow golden frame and neon blue hearts linked together for the chain, its edge three inches into the floor boards.


    Rather than looking guilty, the blonde just made a silly face with her tongue out as she rapped her knuckles on the side of her head.


    The brunette cleared her throat and tried again. "... if they know the concept is wrong. Whatever the wielder conceives of as a sword, that is what it will be."


    Natsumi snatched the hilt from Haru with a glare, so that it disappeared from the damaged floor and returned to her increasingly familiar flame-edged wakizashi. "You''re lecturing, Riko. You''re as bad as Miss Sada!"


    "Let her have her moment," the aforementioned teacher advised gently. "I am certain she is reaching her argument. After all, she is running out of people to hand it to."


    As the demonic weapon was passed to Reina and, very predictably, took the form of an ornate rapier, the brunette''s eyes remained on Sarasa. Did she know where the girl was going with this?


    It didn''t matter. There was no other course. The only form left was one everyone had already seen.


    "My point," she clarified instead, "is that every person has a different and wholly unique concept of a sword, but the biggest shaper is easily the culture the wielder was raised in. Homura was raised in a very traditional and martial environment, so her concept holds tightly to a very traditional form. Meanwhile, Haru was apparently raised by lollipops and chainsaws."


    Again, rather than guilt, the girl flashed her megawatt grin proudly.


    The brunette ignored her in favor of closing to her final point. "The more distant the culture, then, the more unique and even alien we can expect the concept of a sword to be."


    Sarasa reached over for the sword from Reina. "Oh, pass it here, dear, I believe that''s my cue."


    Like Haru''s, the form in Sarasa''s hand was a hollow, golden frame, no doubt to permit its dimensions with the limited material. Instead, the interior of the three-foot triangular blade was filled with a line of blue circles that started out largest at the base and shrank toward the tip.


    The moment its form became distinguishable, Dakunaito drew his own midnight blade, sending the girls into a flurry as they threw themselves in front of their mentor.


    Except the brunette known as Sword Witch. She stayed where she stood, as calm as ever.


    "You were right, Dakunaito. The Arbiter isn''t a god. He''s a fifth-dimensional being."


    Miss Sada didn''t seem bothered, either, just casually twirling the sword like it were a plaything. "Is that who picked a fight with you two dears? I wondered who would be so bold."


    "So you do know him."


    The teacher stopped playing with the sword and stepped over to her brown-haired charge, even as everyone else in the group remained on edge. "If you were able to gather that much, there''s an even more important question," she said, and took the girl''s hand before placing the hilt back into it.


    Sarasa closed Sword Witch''s hand around it and the blade flashed back to its original form. On the white-haired woman''s face was a motherly, but sad smile. "I''ll need you two to tell me anything that naughty boy said to you. Everything could depend on it."


    The other girls went quiet at that, their readiness dropping as their attention left the demon lord to go to their mentor.


    Dakunaito only narrowed his coal red eyes at her. "Define everything."


    Yes, everything was certainly a lot, but it was also surprisingly subjective. The brunette had her suspicions, too. Not of Sarasa, surprisingly. She had certainly thought the concern high enough to use subterfuge to bring up the triangular weapon, but the history teacher''s response had been genuine.


    There were certainly times that word couldn''t possibly fit the fifth-dimensional mentor, but this hadn''t been one of them. She was certain now that Miss Sada hadn''t been involved in the attack. Unfortunately, she was also just as certain that she was involved with the Arbiter, at least more generally.


    And why not? She had never hidden that she was there to monitor the Witches. That, alone, implied a larger organization, not including the overarching government. Sarasa didn''t speak of the Arbiter as a superior, either, though that meant very little with the catwoman. Just now, she had even called Dakunaito a dear.


    However, it was very much in Sarasa''s character to choose heavy words specifically to give impressions that weren''t necessarily wrong so much as just misleading. She liked to make her audience miss the bigger picture with sleights of hand both subtle and overt. Like saying everything could depend on something.


    "That''s a good question," she agreed with the demon, albeit with less accusation in her tone. "Everything doesn''t say as much as it sounds like. Everything to us could be different even from what it means to a regular human, and it would mean far less than it would to you as a fifth-dimensional being."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Honestly, she was a bit surprised Dakunaito had caught it so readily, for lack of interactions with her. But then, given his description of demon society, perhaps he was naturally suspicious of such word games.


    Sarasa''s smile beamed back at them proudly, as if the dark knight weren''t still standing with the point of his sword trained on her. But then, with the power the Arbiter had already displayed, it was fair to say that the pitch black steel was barely more of a threat to her than a ruler.


    Though she didn''t get the impression Sarasa would have acted much differently even if that weren''t the case. She knew too well when she wasn''t really in danger, and had no intention of pretending otherwise. Unless she thought it''d amuse her, anyway.


    "So clever, the both of you." Her smile turned sad as she directed it at the demon lord in particular. "Though the reason for that cleverness can be quite tragic."


    The teacher sighed all the same, crossing one arm over her chest as the other hand rubbed her nose as she focused and sorted her thoughts. "It is true that when I say everything, the concept is limited to your own respective portions of the world. Who you love, to whom you are loyal, what you fight for. The boxed lunch sale at the convenience store down the street will still happen tomorrow regardless."


    She raised her face again with a grin, and one could almost see the cat tails waving behind her even though they weren''t there. "It would be more accurate to say, everything of any importance to you, but I thought that would sound cheesily overdramatic and wouldn''t mean anything extra, anyway! After all, by the very definition, you aren''t liable to care about what happens to anything beyond that, right?"


    "And it absolutely wasn''t just because you wanted to make sure you had our attention," the brunette offered sarcastically.


    Miss Sada clapped her hands as if to call a class to attention. "Anyway, I still need to hear all the juicy little details, and then I''m sure I''ll have some talking of my own to do, so why don''t we all stop standing around and take a seat so we can get started? Lord Dakunaito, I am certain that this eatery has something even you would find palatable!"


    * * *


    "... And last but not least, a refill of bitter tea for Miss Sada''s handsome workplace acquaintance!" Haya gave the dark figure a wink as she placed the hot cup of tea and teapot in front of him. "Any of you need anything else, all you have to do is holler!"


    Natsumi stared in disgust after her sister as the older girl turned and spun away. "No, really, what in the world is your magic showing my sister, Miss Sada?" she asked once Haya was out of earshot.


    Dakunaito just gave an annoyed growl that was probably the closest sentiment they were going to get to agreement out of him.


    Of course, Sarasa didn''t even try to answer the question. Ignoring it entirely, she kept her attention on the greater demon and the brunette witch. "And you are certain that is everything Arbiter said to you?"


    The latter rolled her eyes. "Please, Miss Sada, now of all times, don''t imply that many bombs in short order wrapped up with a threat to make us all suffer isn''t enough."


    The teacher''s gaze was sympathetic, and this time, it wasn''t brain magic giving the impression. "I understand how you feel, dear. Really, I do. But it''s important that you answer the question."


    The two of them had relayed their encounter on the bridge from both of their perspectives, then the appearance of the Arbiter, what he did, and to the best of their recollection, everything he''d said, up until the moment he retreated.


    Now, the brunette sighed, looked to Dakunaito to see if he remembered anything else, but when all he gave her was the cold shoulder, she turned back to Miss Sada. "Well, he was able to say my name."


    Haru and Natsumi looked confused, but Reina and Ran seemed to catch on.


    "You mean the erased one?" the gunmetal girl asked.


    She nodded in confirmation. "I still can''t say it, myself." She thought for a moment. "It was just a nickname, though, not my given name. I mean, I can''t say either, but still, he obviously knew who I was, and he didn''t act like I wasn''t supposed to be there."


    Sarasa hung her head between her hands. "That blathering fool ... What was he thinking?"


    "That we would not live to make use of his recklessness." Dakunaito''s red-hot coals of eyes narrowed. "An amateur mistake."


    "No." The teacher sat up straight again and pointed her finger at the demon lord like he were one of her students, a behavior that made him growl. "No, I mean it! You can''t fight him! Not and win!"


    "He made it pretty clear he doesn''t intend to give us a choice," the brunette put in.


    "It was all true ..."


    Ran''s small voice, sounding more frail than ever, forced the focus of the table to the others still sitting there. The ones that weren''t thinking of strategy or tactics or threat assessments.


    "A suicide squad," she continued, looking like she was about to break down into tears. Even her voice was starting to break down into sobs. "You lied when you said it was just a story. You knew all along ... We were horrible people in our past lives and now we''re being punished ..."


    They were just girls, the brunette realized for what felt like the first time. Yes, she''d thought of them as children before, a matter of mere months ago that already felt like a lifetime, but the context was different now.


    Yes, they were Witches. Yes, they were all inhumanly exceptional in their own ways even without demigod-level elemental powers. Yes, they had willpower to break a Green Lantern. But behind all of that, they were still just high school students. Their thoughts were meant to be on things like boys, holidays, their favorite bands and midterms. Their concept of an existential crisis was supposed to be limited to nightmares of showing up to class in their underwear.


    They weren''t supposed to be questioning the very literal existence of reality, itself. They weren''t built for it. Reina kept the stiffest lip, of course, but the brunette could tell even she was shaken.


    It was Natsumi who found stable ground to raise from first, driven to her feet by the sight of Ran nearly collapsing in on herself. "Miss Sada, we deserve to know the truth! What''s really going on?! What is that asshole really talking about?! What gives him the right?!"


    Sarasa looked more guilt-ridden than the brunette had ever seen her, and when the teacher looked to her, it seemed like an expression that was asking for an escape. Had she forgotten how that went with Reina trying to avoid talking about their deaths? Or perhaps some chains still bound her, keeping her from speaking freely, chains she hoped Sword Witch could cut.


    Either way, the brunette crossed her arms with a sigh of her own and opened with the cannons that were her preference.


    "There are no prophecies," she fired, "on either side. No future, no past. No scales, no premonitions, no balance." She motioned toward Ran. "We aren''t even really a suicide squad, because even death is one big lie. It''s just a big loop we all keep running through like a bunch of gerbils in multicolored skirts."


    "Miss Kelly, please," Sarasa pleaded. "You are being too harsh to your comrades. Think of them and tone it down."


    "The Arbiter has played even the empire for fools." Dakunaido''s eyes were so bright they were nearly aflame, but they were directed at nothing, his gaze falling somewhere loosely off-center of the middle of the table. "We were never going to receive the world. We were never going to escape the barren pit that birthed us. The very moment of our victory would see us thrown back to do it all over again."


    "The same, I suspect," the brunette confirmed, "as would happen if we ever actually managed to breach the imperial palace and destroy the emperor. We wouldn''t have to wait centuries for all of the demons to regenerate. The ending is completely irrelevant. We''ll just keep doing it all over and over again."


    She motioned to the massive man beside her. "Dakunaito could run me through right now and it wouldn''t change a thing. I''d just wake up at the start of the school year again when the cycle restarts. Heck, it''d probably even fix Nariko!"


    "Riko!" Haru practically screamed at her, gripping the table as she leaned over it. "Don''t talk like that! Never talk like that!"


    Reina, too, used that as an anchor point, reaching forward to tap the table as a way to announce her own turn to speak.


    "I concur with Chiaki, that line of thinking must be one we reject. Even without speaking so casually of killing one Kelly to revive another, despite meaning the return of Thunder Witch, it would also mean returning to conformity with Precognition. If it is true that we have repeated those steps so unerringly, then annihilation is the only outcome on that path. We must remain separate from it, no matter the trials."


    "Then you have a problem," the dark lord growled, as if this whole talk grated at him. "Even if your deaths are meaningless in reaching an end, you cannot afford to die. Resetting would remain a true death to our new awareness."


    "The whole Witch-Demon War," the brunette agreed. "It''s all gotta come to a stop. Or at least a ceasefire until we can go back to murdering each other for no good cause in peace."


    "That will never happen," he unflinchingly confirmed. "The Emperor would never be convinced by the words of Witches, and too many demons would be all too delighted at the idea of endless bloodshed. You will not cease to be hounded by my kind unless we are wiped out to the last. As beyond you as that is, even managing it would only trigger the reset we must avoid."


    The brunette sighed, flopping her cheek against her propped up hand. "In other words, we''ve been set up into a Cache-22 but good from the very start."


    "Maybe that''s why he''s able to talk so easily of killing us," Haru ventured tentatively. "It sounds a lot less heartless when you realize that, to him, it''s more like sending us to our rooms."


    "That''s your real superpower, Haru," the brunette smiled across the table at her. "Always able to see the best in people."


    Her return smile was interrupted by Homura. "Yeah, well, I''d be a lot happier with looking on the bright side," the redhead retorted, "if it weren''t for that little bit about it being to lock us in an eternal paradox."


    Dakunaito moved his glare from the table, which the brunette was mildly surprised hadn''t started smoldering, to Miss Sada. "There is another detail you are all ignoring. The Arbiter is not the only fifth-dimensional entity, nor is he working alone. It would seem there is one for each faction. You would be wise to not let your emotions blind you to that."


    The history teacher frowned back at him, but it had absolutely no effect on the stoic knight. After a protracted moment, she sighed in surrender and leaned back in her seat. "For the record, I disavow everything that idiot is doing in this instance. The whole reason I can''t just go fix things for you girls as I please is because there are rules in place. You know that, we''ve had that discussion."


    "I suspect," Dakunaito countered, "that discussion did not include that you are their jailer."


    "Warden," she protested with a sigh.


    "Whu?" Natsumi had her mouth around the straw into her Cherries Jubilee milkshake again and had jerked up at that straight answer.


    Sada tucked her hair behind her ear with a frustrated jerk of her arm. "I''m called the Warden. He''s the Arbiter, I''m the Warden. Not the Jailer."


    Ran raised her head from staring at her hands. "... Aren''t they synonyms?"


    The teacher shook her head. "We''re not a jail. Or we''re not supposed to be. We''re more like ... a rehabilitation facility. My job is to watch over you and tend to your needs. Arbiter''s is to judge when the conditions of your rehabilitation have been met."


    She sighed and let her head roll back. "I am going to be buried under so much paperwork from all this ..."


    Dakunaito narrowed his eyes in response to the dramatic gesture. "You would have my sympathy, I''m sure, if I had any, Warden."


    "Let''s not get ourselves lost in emotional responses," Reina intercepted. "If you are both working for the same organization, Miss Sada, how did you not know what he was doing until Nariko told you?"


    Sarasa shook her head again, more slowly this time. "We may be of equivalent authority, but our positions are not parallel. For your own sake, I receive the same reset you do, since I work so closely with you. The sole difference between how you experience the cycles and how I do is only in that I know they exist. Arbiter''s position necessitates an awareness outside of the cycle, and so he is aware of every loop that has occurred."


    "Can''t you just rat him out?" Homura asked next. "If you''ve got rules, just report him for breaking them and get HR on his ass."


    The redhead''s swearing clearly made the teacher uncomfortable, and she cleared her throat. "I fully intend to file a report, but it will not be an easy sell. As it stands, he could simply claim he was acting to correct an error that came to his attention."


    "Me," the brunette put in, and the teacher nodded.


    "Exactly, dear. I''m afraid until he gets bolder, you shouldn''t expect much. To avoid contaminating your recovery, active interference is avoided as a last resort."


    "The potential damage would have to exceed the risks such a drastic intervention would bring," she summarized, and Sada nodded again.


    "Then our course of action is determined," Dakunaito declared with an air of finality. "We must endure whatever attacks the Arbiter brings until he is forced to overstep his bounds to be rid of us."


    When he pushed himself away from the table at that, the brunette looked to him. "You''re leaving already? I thought you''d have a lot more questions after a reveal like this."


    "Plenty," he replied, "but not all curiosity is constructive. I have much to do, and I know enough to do it. Anything else wastes time." He narrowed his eyes once more at the witch he helped create. "I would advise any of you against dawdling, as well. A being capable of doing anything is one capable of attacking from anywhere."


    She nodded in acceptance of the advice and he turned to leave.


    Sarasa stood and bowed her head to him like a hostess seeing off a guest. "Thank you for coming to see us, Lord Dakunaito."


    He only glanced over his shoulder to glare at her. "Be thankful I did not cut you down just to have one less serpent''s head to deal with."


    "Yes, thank you for that, too!" the teacher called as the demon walked out the soda shop door.

 Chapter Thirty-Three

    (33)


    The girls had stayed and asked many more questions even after Dakunaito left. Knowledge was power, after all, though, admittedly, not all knowledge was equally useful. The black knight had been right about that.


    That wasn''t to say that many of the questions asked didn''t lead to interesting information, even if it wasn''t readily useful, and, surprisingly, Sarasa only refused to answer a small handful of all of the questions they bombarded her with. If anything, she seemed delighted to be able to open up to her girls for the first time in probably ever.


    Though they talked late into the night, given it was the end of the school week, the truly important questions could be narrowed down to a relative few.


    Obviously, one of the first asked was how far the Arbiter would have to go before Sarasa''s fifth-dimensional Council considered him having crossed the line. Unfortunately, it didn''t have one of the most productive answers. He had to reach a point where he was actively endangering the continued operation of the program.


    Not only was that incredibly vague, it was too high a bar for them to make use of it. They couldn''t manipulate him to taking such drastic measures by any feasible manner, and it would require far less for him to just kill them.


    Another was what they had to do to be considered rehabilitated. All Sarasa could really tell them was that they had to display good moral character under duress and avoid temptations and shortcuts.


    She did confirm that Precognition was only a symptom of Reina''s many cycles as the first Witch, and not actually her passive power. In fact, now that they were beyond the edges of that particular map, she doubted it would be showing up again without a reset.


    Reina asked then, what was her passive? But Sarasa had just giggled at her. Didn''t she already know?


    That drove the dark witch to glare daggers, but not at Miss Sada. At the brunette.


    What, exactly, had they done in their previous lives? Could those memories be restored? Well, she''d have to ask permission. But that meant it was, in fact, possible, and even if their past selves had been erased, the Council had kept records.


    Of course, questions about restoring the brunette''s memories, either of her erased self or of Nariko Kelly so she could transform, quickly followed that, but it wouldn''t be so easy. Her condition was unique. She was broken in some way. It would be difficult to return her original memories since she was actively using that space, and returning those of Thunder Witch could overwrite her.


    Ran had asked why everything sounded like computer terminology, but Sarasa was quick to clarify that it was simply because she was using terms they''d understand, and assured an overeager Natsumi that, no, they were most definitely not living in some copyrighted AI-controlled simulation.


    The question had come up as to whether or not there were other facilities like theirs, and yes, there were. Only one for this Earth, but multiversalism is apparently a thing. The brunette was quick to remind Reina that meant she owed her a texted apology, which the upperclassman obliged with a maturity that immediately made her feel childish.


    Surprisingly, this didn''t mean that there were other beings in the same field as Sarasa. She explained that just moving down to their planes of reality replicated her across the multiverse as she became a part of it. She was the Warden for all Earth-based facilities simultaneously.


    She refused to answer if there were facilities for any other planets in a given reality.


    Interestingly, the split meant that she wasn''t always quite the same person, and didn''t always run the place the same way. Magical girls were definitely a majority preference, but they weren''t always fighting demons, and it wasn''t always this specific group of girls.


    In one, apparently, there''s a former planetary emperor that tried to invade the multiverse, and is now fighting a darkness that he''d formerly bargained with. In another, her charges were placed in an isekai. Yet another was actually tokusatsu. One even had them as sky pirates. The brunette and Natsumi quickly agreed they wanted a field trip to that last one.


    Yes, this meant that they were Witches because of her stylistic preference, but she assured them that the power they had was all theirs. She only influenced the rules the facility used to interpret them.


    No, she, this specific 4D incarnation of Sarasa, was not personally and simultaneously at all multiversal locations. She did touch base with the others from time to time, though, to brainstorm solutions to particular problems one or more of them might be having or to share and compare particular achievements of their girls. No matter the world, she was always proud of her girls.


    Did this mean their families were all fake, just constructs of the facility? No. Each person was a fully realized individual consciousness, as real and unique as they were. The base parameters of their families were optimized to give each girl the best chance at success, but their upbringings and their relationships with their family members were all genuine.


    Were they tied to the same actions over and over again, was that why they kept getting the same result for Precognition? No, and Miss Sada pointed to the very fact they were there to ask that as proof. Their will was their own in every cycle, to make their own choices. But without any memory of failure to change their approach, they unfortunately just ended up treading the same steps until something else changed.


    It was the brunette who asked if it was really the lack of memory that drove them to take the same steps, or if it was due to the obfuscation-like blocks on their minds. Everyone at the table looked at her like she''d grown a third eyeball, though.


    Everyone except Sarasa. She just refused to answer.


    * * *


    "Well, at the very least, I can stop worrying about replacing Nariko. Or up and spontaneously vanishing, for that matter."


    The brunette was walking Haru home. It really was late. The moon was looming in the sky and they were the only two souls to be seen as far as the road stretched ahead or behind them.


    They''d called their families, of course. A group cram session had been the excuse. It was even almost true.


    "I''m happy for you!" Haru sang back with a smile on her face.


    But the smile was tense. She didn''t think she needed Analysis to notice, but Haru was very good at her smiles, so maybe she did. She''d been quiet most of the evening, letting everyone else ask their questions. She''d made comments, shown enthusiasm when called upon, but done little under her own initiative.


    The only time she''d shown any significant interest, it had been about restoring Nariko Kelly. In fact, it was after that when she''d really withdrawn. The brunette had wanted to ask, but there had been no good opportunity that wouldn''t have derailed everyone else.


    She frowned back at her blonde friend, who was already turning away, no doubt having realized she''d noticed before the expression even reached her face. "No, you''re not."


    The statement wasn''t judgmental or accusatory, but Haru was still determined to look at anything in the other direction. "... Please, Riko, don''t ..."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The brunette shook her head. "Haru, it''s okay, I get it. You''re not going to hurt my feelings with this. It means ..." She sighed. "... It means Nariko isn''t just going to recover and go back to the way she was. And even if she could, the team requires she doesn''t. It''s not fair to you or her."


    Haru wheeled around and thumped the bottom of her fist against the brunette''s chest. "Stop that!" she shouted. "Stop talking about yourself in third-person! We know you''re Riko now!"


    "Not the one you grew up with," the brunette shook her head. "Not the one you forced to talk to you on the playground. Not the one you became a Witch so you could look out for."


    "Yes, you are!" she insisted. "You just don''t remember it!"


    The brunette put a hand against the blonde''s upper arm and rested her forehead against Haru''s. "No, I''m the Riko that hit you. I''m the one that came into the group like a wrecking ball, intent on emotionally destroying everything around me."


    "You were lost! You--"


    The brunette grabbed her other arm, too, as she cut her off. "Haru. It''s okay for you to feel that way. I understand."


    "Stop, Riko, stop!" Haru was actually starting to bawl now, the emotions she''d kept bottled up, distracting herself with everyone''s questions, starting to break through. "It''s not right! It''s not fair to you! You can''t do anything about it! I have no right to be so selfish!"


    The brunette wrapped both arms around her now, pulling her friend close. "You have every right, Haru, to feel however you feel. You can''t do anything about it, either. If something hurts you, you''re not a bad person for feeling pain."


    The blonde continued to sob into her shoulder, so after a moment''s pause, she continued.


    "You were there for me when I first came here, Haru," she said softly. "You were a point of normalcy in a hurricane of insanity. You were a rock I could hold to until I came to grips with the world around me. But we''re a two-way street, you and me."


    She pulled back, gripping Haru by the shoulders to pry her away so she could look her in the eyes. "Haru, it''s my turn. I''ll support you. I promise you, you cannot offend me, and your feelings can''t hurt me. So let it out. Unload on me. Whatever it is, you''re not chasing me away."


    The blonde drew back, too, looking for a moment like she was rearing back to headbutt the brunette. Then the tears resurged, and she rammed her forehead into the brunette¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Riko,¡± she cried out. ¡°I do want my Riko back! That¡¯s not right, but I do! I don¡¯t want to just laugh about old memories with you! I want to remember them with you! I want the friend I fought beside, not just the one that looks like her! I want the immature, arrogant Riko, not the one that feels like she moved away for the last two years and grew up!¡±


    Haru shook her head, grinding her eyes against the brunette¡¯s school blazer. ¡°But I can¡¯t have my Riko back! Not because it¡¯s impossible, but because getting her back means she dies! All of our friends die! I die! In just bringing her back, even you die! I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t be that selfish, but I can¡¯t get rid of it! I¡¯m sorry, Riko! I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    The brunette simply let the blonde cry, rubbing her back in circular patters with one hand as she hugged the blonde close with the other. She didn¡¯t speak until the twintailed girl¡¯s words finally broke down into sobbing gibberish.


    ¡°Feelings aren¡¯t supposed to be rational, Haru,¡± she tried. ¡°In fact, feelings and rationality don¡¯t like each other much at all. That¡¯s why it¡¯s not selfish to want something that¡¯s wrong. It has to be okay, because otherwise ¡­¡± She fished for a more poetic way to say it, but came up empty. ¡°¡­ Well, we¡¯re all screwed.¡±


    She felt, more than heard, Haru scoff in spite of herself.


    ¡°I know,¡± she intoned sagely. ¡°I¡¯m a real Shakespeare.¡±


    The blonde didn¡¯t raise her head until after she slugged the brunette in the shoulder. She sniffed as she did it, and her green eyes were still wet and rimmed with red.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a bad person, Haru,¡± the brunette assured her friend again. ¡°Or, at least, if you are, you¡¯re the least of all of the bad people you¡¯ve surrounded yourself with.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Haru sniffed again.


    She nodded. ¡°I told you, that¡¯s what I¡¯m here for.¡± The brunette shifted her feet. ¡°And if you need to talk about the train, I¡¯m here for that, too.¡±


    The brief moment Haru froze confirmed her suspicions, but a moment later, the blonde dropped her head.


    ¡°What would you tell me about that, Riko? You risked your life to stop that train. You defied a premonition of your death! And not just yourself, you¡¯re the single reason why any of us are still alive!¡±


    When Haru didn¡¯t say why that mattered, she ventured a guess of her own. ¡°And in your eyes, you cowered in a box and brainwashed everyone in there with you, including your own parents, rather than fight.¡±


    This time, instead of freezing up, Haru visibly flinched. Again, however, she didn¡¯t say anything, so the brunette put a hand back on her shoulder.


    ¡°Haru, you saved the lives of everyone on that train, including your parents. From what I heard, it sounds like those guys would have shot you the moment you tried to transform. They knew who you were and were keeping you under watch from the moment they appeared. You took the right course of action.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like I did.¡± Haru raised her head to meet her gaze again. ¡°Yeah, I know, feelings and rationality. But rationality is your specialty, Riko. Emotion is mine. And it feels like I¡¯ve betrayed every principle over our powers I¡¯ve ever held.¡±


    ¡°Every principle over our powers is there to ensure we use it only to save people, Haru. How many would you have saved if you were shot dead?¡±


    Haru¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°Are our principles less important than lives? Are you saying the end justifies the means, Riko?¡±


    ¡°Those aren¡¯t the same thing,¡± the brunette insists fervently. ¡°You used your power to save people by buying us the time we needed. That¡¯s exactly what you were supposed to do!¡±


    At some point, they¡¯d reached Haru¡¯s house, and now, the blonde put her hand on the door knob, signifying the end of the conversation. She hesitated a moment, though.


    ¡°¡­ I know you¡¯re right, Riko. Because if I had to do it all over again, I know that I would. I just hope that, one day, I can come to believe it.¡±


    * * *


    From her bedroom window, with the room¡¯s light off, Haru looked down at Nariko, still standing in front of her house. The girl out of time looked lost, but true to her word, she seemed to take the revelation that her best friend wished she were dead in stride.


    Sword Witch was so strong, shoulders built up from a lifetime of bearing such burdens, a lifetime that no teenager could claim. Could her Riko have shown the same strength? Not the same kind of strength, of course, but could she have endured the conversation this Riko had literally held her through?


    Haru had to believe she could. She couldn¡¯t stand to doubt two versions of her best friend.


    After a long moment, no doubt spent shuffling the burdens on her shoulders around to make sure they stayed balanced against one another so as not to drag her down, Nariko Kelly finally turned from Haru¡¯s house and walked away down the street.


    The blonde released a sigh she didn¡¯t realize she¡¯d been holding. On some level, she feared Riko would storm up to her room just to continue the conversation.


    ¡°A pity you¡¯re only an empath, or you wouldn¡¯t have to guess.¡±


    Haru wheeled around, light flaring to her fingertips as her eyes fell on the figure sitting calmly on her bed. She didn¡¯t feel him there. She still didn¡¯t. To her extrasensory ability, there was nothing sitting in front of her, smiling at her bewilderment.


    ¡°Of course you can¡¯t sense me, fool girl,¡± the robed man replied to her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m not really here. Surely, even you children must understand the concept of a projection? And, yes, that does mean there¡¯s no point to you transforming.¡±


    She let the light at the ends of her fingers dim, but still didn¡¯t allow it to fully extinguish. She¡¯d only heard this man described, but she knew in an instant who he was. ¡°You¡¯re the Arbiter, the one who attacked Riko!¡±


    ¡°Correction,¡± he said as he stood from the bed, ¡°I tried to fix Nariko Kelly. I tried to turn her back to the way you know her.¡±


    ¡°By murdering her!¡±


    But the Arbiter merely waved the accusation away. ¡°You can¡¯t die here, none of you can. Surely, that was explained to you.¡± He moved toward the window, himself, and pulled the blind open to look out, but said nothing more.


    ¡°That excuse won¡¯t work with me,¡± Haru shouted back. She¡¯d have worried about her parents hearing the racket, but the fact she couldn¡¯t feel them at all across the hall from her room meant she was already in a seal. ¡°I don¡¯t have amnesia!¡±


    The Arbiter cringed at her shouting. ¡°Damn it, girl, I¡¯m right here. Just because I¡¯m a projection, that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m deaf.¡± He let the curtain drop and turned to face her. ¡°And that excuse doesn¡¯t need to work with you because I¡¯m not here for you. My focus remains on correcting Thunder Witch¡¯s anomaly.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too late, then! You just missed her!¡±


    The man sighed as he shook his head, rubbing his middle finger and thumb back and forth across his eyebrows. ¡°How does she do it ¡­ deal with this day in and day out ¡­¡±


    He looked back to her face again. ¡°No, you idiot. I¡¯m not here to attack Sword Witch. I¡¯m here because I intend to use you as a focal point to bring back Thunder Witch.¡±


    ¡°Without resetting her?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Sword Witch is still a concern,¡± he replied, tapping his fingers casually on her desk as he glanced across its surface. ¡°Dalliances with demons are what landed you all in this place. That she would so easily jump right back to doing so speaks poorly.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t give her much choice by attacking her, you know,¡± Haru insisted back. ¡°She and Da-kun were just about to swear to go back to trying to kill each other when you showed up and gave them a shared enemy!¡±


    Arbiter sighed and rolled his eyes back. ¡°Yes, yes, I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m trying something different. I¡¯m just saying that her crime is still being adjudicated.¡± And he looked firmly back at her. ¡°After all, you, of all your teammates, know the feeling of that temptation now, don¡¯t you?¡±


    He held out his hand to her. ¡°Won¡¯t you help me save your best friend from that same fate?¡±


    ¡­ And the light at her fingertips flickered out entirely.

 Chapter Thirty-Four

    (34)


    The console was old, but a video game was a video game. Even if it didn''t have any 3D graphics, the controller didn''t have any joysticks, and all of the games were in English, having to play on his dad''s old gaming system was better than being stuck with books.


    On the positive side, Yoshi and his sisters had always had better grades in the foreign language than most of their peers. Sure, part of that was Marcus'' tendency to switch to it whenever he was feeling lazy, but it was just as much to the credit of the device he had passed to his children.


    And, hey, retro was in, so it was a great lure to get a couple friends to come over to his place when the arcade wasn''t open. They had to stick to low-text games like beat-em-ups and racers, though, since the machine was region-locked. Even though they could buy games for the same console locally, this specific one would stubbornly refuse to run them.


    Yoshi paused the platformer he was playing when he heard his sister coming down the stairs, and he pulled himself up to look over the sofa. "Hey, Sis, wanna play a few rounds?"


    He knew the answer before she gave it to him; Riko was dressed to head out. "I''d love to, Yosh," she replied apologetically, "but I already made plans with Haru. And I''ve still got to pick up something for dinner tonight."


    Yoshi''s eyes lit up and he stood a little straighter as his stomach growled eagerly. "Can we have hamburgers again?"


    That put a grin on his sister''s face. "Sure, I can manage that. But, hey, I can make them a different way than on bread. You interested in trying something a bit different?"


    Then he frowned. "How different?" He knew he liked hamburgers, and the ones she had made last week had been really good, with big patties and double cheese. She even made fries that were curly! It had been so good that he didn''t even mind they had the girly yogurt called parfait for dessert.


    But different? Different was dangerous.


    "Instead of a sandwich, it''s served with gravy," she explained. "Instead of a hamburger sandwich, it''s called a hamburger steak! I could make it beside poutine!"


    Now, he was really frowning. "Poutine sounds nasty."


    But she was grinning all the more. "You remember those fries you liked so much?"


    His middle sister was starting to look more and more like a super-villain in his eyes. "Uh-huh? What kind of horrible thing are you going to do to them?"


    "I top them with shredded cheese and more gravy!"


    "That''s a lot of gravy!"


    "Just a thin layer over the whole dish," she insisted. "Trust me, you''ll like it! But say the word, and we''ll just keep it regular hamburgers again."


    Yoshi murmured and fidgeted as he puzzled through his dilemma. "I guess we can try it ..."


    "Great! I gotta go! Remember to lock the door behind you if you head out, okay?"


    "I won''t forget!"


    He settled back down in front of the television again as the door shut behind Riko, and he unpaused the game. The conversation left him with a question that wasn''t just about the food, though.


    Who was Haru? He thought he knew her whole circle of friends, they certainly hung out enough. Was it someone new?


    As the level got harder, he quickly decided he didn''t care, and paid the question no further thought.


    * * *


    The brunette flipped through her messages for what felt like the millionth time. She was leaning against a pillar at the strip mall waiting for the blonde to arrive. Haru should have been there half an hour ago, it''s what they agreed to.


    Not only was she still waiting, but she''d yet to receive any message about a delay.


    Half an hour was long enough. She cleared out the message window and pulled up the phone app to tap her most frequently used number.


    ... It was Homura? No, that wasn''t right. She talked with Red a lot about sparring, sure, but she definitely talked to Haru more. Maybe not over the phone, just over messages?


    She furrowed her brow as she went over to her Contacts page manually and scrolled to the C''s.


    That was weird, did she accidentally delete it? No big deal, she knew it by heart by now, anyway.


    Quickly, she went through the steps of adding it back in, then dialed it.


    The phone rang longer than she would have liked, but, thankfully, it picked up just when the brunette was starting to panic.


    ... Except it wasn''t Haru.


    "... Hello?" a strange woman''s voice asked. "Who is this?"


    "I''m sorry," she replied, "I''m trying to call my friend, Haru Chiaki? This is supposed to be her number."


    There was a short pause, probably the woman trying to place the name. "I''m sorry, sweety, but this is my number, and I can''t think of anyone by that name. Maybe you misdialed."


    She thanked the woman for the consideration and hung up, then pulled the contact back up and double-checked.


    ... No, the number was accurate. That was Haru''s number.


    That was when a sinking feeling began to freeze her belly, and she quickly dialed Miss Sada instead.


    Unlike the stranger, Sarasa picked up halfway through the third ring. "Miss Kelly! To what do I owe the pleasure of a week--"


    "He took Haru!" It was all the brunette could do not to shout into the phone.


    There was another pause. "... Who?"


    "What do you mean, who?! The Arbiter!"


    "I ... guessed that much, dear, but--"


    "Don''t you fucking dare, Sada!" The brunette nearly screamed before she could catch herself, remembering that she was in a public place. "Not about her! Whatever he''s done to her, Haru''s gone!"


    Despite herself, the brunette was starting to tear up, and at least the sniff made it over the line, because Sada''s whole tone changed.


    "Oh, dearie, I''m sorry! Don''t cry! Just ... hold on, give me a moment ..." There was a pause and the sound of shuffling that went on for a dozen seconds or so. "Yes, yes ... okay ... I think we need to have a meeting. Miss Kelly, where are you now?"


    "I''m at the strip mall." Somehow, her voice sounded small to her. She made an effort to clear her throat, and tried again with what felt like better success. "Strip mall. Haru was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago."


    "Stay put," Sarasa replied. "I''ll come pick you up."


    * * *


    The school bell rang as students milled about inside the building as if it were any other school day. Which, on a Saturday, was a massive red flag.


    They had first intended to go to the soda shop, but the Homuras were closed for maintenance. It wasn''t until they arrived at the school that they realized they''d been set up all along.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Natsumi ground her heel into the sidewalk with her anger. "Not only did this bastard kidnap Chiaki, erase her from our memory, and try to kill Kelly, but he''s making everyone come to school on a Saturday?!"


    Ran adjusted her glasses before attempting to correct her friend quietly. "Priorities. Haru is still in danger. We have to save her."


    A minute earlier, they didn''t even know who Haru was, but when that was about to make the brunette blow a gasket, Sada interceded. She had apparently already restored her own memory, and, declaring explanations too exhausting to bother with, she willed some sort of concentric circles with nodes into the air in front of her.


    The brunette couldn''t help but think it looked rather like a file structure as she watched the fifth-dimensional being manipulate it with one hand like one might a dial. Before she could say a thing on the matter, however, Sarasa had hushed her with a wink and the index finger of her other hand held to her lips.


    The next moment, all of the other Witches remembered their missing member and Natsumi started stomping.


    Now, they were talking about how to approach the whole "school in session" issue. Miss Sada assured them that this was all effectively in a sort of super-seal, so anything that happened wouldn''t matter. Even anything that happened to the students would be able to be undone. Their only value as hostages was psychological.


    The brunette started walking when Tamashini expressed concern about going in with their casual attire. Like Dakunaito probably would have said, talk like that is a sure sign nothing else productive was coming.


    "Kelly?" the school president called after her in all too familiar words. "Where are you going?"


    This time, she didn''t even turn back to give a response. After all, there was only one uniform needed in a war zone.


    She raised a hand toward the doubled up set of double doors, reinforced against intrusion and filled with bulletproof glass for the safety of the students.


    The fireball tore through them like a bomb.


    Some students ran, most screamed, but those that did neither stared at the golden-clad figure that stepped through the smoke and debris.


    And then they began to cry out, too, writhing and clawing at their faces that seemed to melt down into themselves. The next moment, they were dretches.


    Sword Witch scowled at the scene before her. "Psychological, she said."


    And then they charged, for all of the good it did them. Golden light flashed into her hand as she carved through them mid-leap, and she charged off down the hallway.


    "Did ..." Natsumi pointed after the disappearing figure. "Did she just transform without a chant?!"


    "She doesn''t transform," Ran pointed out meekly.


    "I know, but it still looks so wrong!"


    "The transformation pen is set up to activate with the chant, just like a regular transformation," Reina put in. "Even if it isn''t a true transformation, she must have changed the setting somehow."


    "Or maybe she''s just that pissed," the redhead countered, but before Miss Sada could scold her for her language, she charged forward, too, red flame licking from her fingers. "Hey, wait for us! TRANSFORM!"


    * * *


    Hisoka''s breath tore at her chest as she ran down the school''s long hallways.


    She didn''t know why she was there. She had been absolutely certain it was supposed to be Saturday. But everyone else was there, too, and none of them thought it was odd. She couldn''t seem to find her president, however.


    But then everyone turned into freakish monsters. Some instinctive part in her told her they were dretches, even though that shouldn''t have meant anything to her. It didn''t seem to mean anything to them, either, as they immediately attacked anyone that wasn''t one of them.


    Which basically meant her entire classroom jumped her. Somehow, she''d made it out of the room unscathed, but the hallways were full of the monsters, and she''d been running ever since.


    The only logical explanation for the madness was that she was stuck in a nightmare. It met all of the points of the definition: Indistinct time, a sense of misplacement ... terrifying monsters. Except she was aware of it. She never had lucid dreams. But then, she didn''t actually know it was a nightmare, either. Does suspecting it count as being aware of it?


    All she knew was that, whatever the case, she could be counted on to screw it up.


    This self-absorbed line of thought led inevitably to her rounding a corner right into one of them. She screamed even as her body twisted, grabbing it by the shoulder and arm as she took it to the ground with her, smashing it face-first into the tile floor.


    Hisoka gave it a kick to the head for good measure and skittered backward, only to yelp when she bumped into another figure, but when she looked up, she saw ...


    "Mr. Sato!"


    The dreamy math teacher (strangely, she recalled him being much older, but couldn''t remember why and it contradicted everyone she brought it up with) was fending off the monsters with a yardstick held like a bokken.


    He looked down at the sound of his name and his eyes widened. "Miss Cho. Stay behind me. We will try to reach an exit."


    She nodded and scurried back to her feet.


    She''d made it to the cafeteria somehow, but instead of a wide, open space, the two were surrounded on all sides by the monsters. Sato tried valiantly to keep them at a distance with his yardstick, but with so many, it was only a matter of time before ...


    "Kyaaa!"


    One grabbed Hisoka by the arm, and before she could think how to react, she wheeled around and slapped the thing.


    It nearly took her arm with it as it went shooting across the room, bowling over half a dozen others before colliding with the far wall in a loud crash.


    Even the dretches paused in their assault at such a display, and Cho stared dumbly down at the offending hand, flexing it in disbelief.


    Of course. If this really was a dream, it''d make perfect sense for that to come back, wouldn''t it?


    She planted her feet with much more confidence, even though she wasn''t any taller. "My strength is coming back! I can fight with this!"


    "Strength?" the teacher repeated, staring at the crater in the wall. He turned his gaze back to his student. "... Miss Cho, were you ... cursed?"


    Her eyes widened as she looked back up at him. "You, too?!"


    Mr. Sato focused his attention forward again and redoubled his grip on the yardstick. "It can be no coincidence that only we Cursed were not changed. Yet I dare not attempt to use it. But a moment ago, these were my precious students!"


    Hisoka narrowed her eyes, something deep inside of her telling her that her words were true. "Whatever they were, these things aren''t students."


    That same feeling must have been within him, because he took on the same expression. "Dretches," he spat in disgust, and flame leaped up the length of the yardstick without consuming it.


    "As impressive as I find your resolve," a new voice interceded, and despite the return of her oni strength, the deceptively normal sound filled her with unbridled terror, "you can''t expect those bumbling imbeciles to hold them for long."


    The man was beautiful, standing there in alien robes, but as he reached a hand out toward them, all she wanted to do was run. Her feet, however, were cast in metaphorical concrete.


    "Don''t you think it''s about time you tools got into costume?"


    Mr. Sato and Hisoka both began to scream as their bodies betrayed them, and against her will, Cho felt hers begin to swell.


    * * *


    "PREZ!"


    "DESTROY ... WITCHES!!!"


    "Oh no ..."


    The girls stopped short at the sight of a bouncing blue oni who was waving her arm above her head, joyously trying to get Sacred Witch''s attention, and the cross of a chess rook forged of metal bricks and the arms of a scale, bashing the area around him as if the limb were a flail.


    "Seriously?!" Sword Witch''s reaction to the sight was far different from Reina''s, full of frustration rather than dread and sorrow. "A boss rush?! Now?! Does this guy want us here or not?!"


    "He wants the status quo returned." Sarasa landing on the brunette''s shoulder was possible because of her smaller cat form. "He may have his own grand plan waiting in the wings, but he is fully satisfied with the old-fashioned solution of simply forcing the loop to reset."


    But the brunette was looking between the two protodemons present. Wasn''t he skipping some? If the Arbiter was willing to throw two of them at the girls at once ...


    She wheeled toward Natsumi. "Flame Witch, watch out for--!"


    The redhead looked up just in time to jump away as a shadowy figure clad in samurai armor came crashing down from the rafters.


    "You!" Flame Witch shouted as it seemed to crack its neck. "We purified that armor! Why are you back?!"


    "We purified the rest of them, too," Sacred Witch pointed out. "The Arbiter clearly used his powers to restore their curses."


    As the protodemons began their attack, Shield Witch stayed behind the front line, quickly alternating barrier casts to protect her teammates. "How is this not an interference violation?"


    "The inside of the seal here is temporally desynchronized," Miss Sada explained. "Nothing happening here is actually happening to the timeline." She jumped from Sword Witch''s shoulder a moment before the brunette deflected a sudden wooden fist flying in on a string.


    "Hello, Marione," Sword Witch greeted the childlike puppet. "I was starting to think you weren''t going to make it."


    The protodemon gave a stilted but cheerful wave back as the first fist retracted, then sent the other one in.


    The brunette considered their worsening condition as she ducked under the attack. Without Haru, the girls were matched four to four by the protodemons, enemies rarely able to be handled by a single Witch.


    Worse, their battle line was a mess. The armor was determined to harass Natsumi, who should have been fighting Sato for the greatest effectiveness. Reina was best able to handle Hisoka, who was joyfully whacking her kanabo anywhere it seemed to make the biggest mess, but she was instead entangled - thankfully not literally yet - with the algebra teacher. The only one remotely doing their tactical best was Ran.


    But their stamina wasn''t infinite. Every spell brought them closer to burn-out, and they had no idea how long this would take, or how much power they would need for whatever the Arbiter had planned.


    She, herself, could now deal with nearly any of the individual protodemons present with a single strike, but her mind screamed at her about the tactical disadvantages. Which one would she even pick? Could she afford the expenditure? She wasn''t any more resistant to it than they were.


    "DARKNESS CRUSHER!!!"


    The black figure came crashing down on the armor with the force of a plummeting elephant, sending its pieces flying in every direction.


    "Dakunaito?!" Sword Witch spun toward the sight as she jumped out of the way of another attack from Marione.


    The other protodemons hesitated, as well, and Hisoka gasped with recognition. "It''s you! You''re the one who ..."


    The black knight stood from the wreckage with the shifting sounds of his plates, his baleful red eyes glaring out from within his helmet.


    "For one who would call himself a Conqueror," he spoke without seeming to address anyone in particular, "the best tactic is often forward. If you must always have a gimmick for victory, you will freeze when one does not present itself."


    As usual, he was right, she realized. She was hung up on looking for a vulnerability to exploit, and they were wasting energy for it.


    Without further thought, she used two hands to channel a double-speed fireball and launched it into Marione''s midsection. She always felt a little bad tearing the childlike protodemon apart, but the best place to start was with her own opponent.


    "Red, get on Sato! Prez, your fangirl''s going into Notice Me mode again! Get her under control!"


    As soon as she finished barking orders, she charged through the opening. "I''ll give you all thirty seconds to catch up, then I''m going on without you!"

 Chapter Thirty-Five

    (35)


    "Oh, hey, its the firecat! And she brought the whole litter with her!"


    The girls came to a stop in the hallway ahead of four men only one of them had seen before, but the figures were so distinct that they all recognized them from descriptions alone: A Prohibition gangster, a cowboy with a six-shooter, an angry-looking, bare-chested yakuza, and an old kung-fu master.


    "Oh, thank goodness," Sword Witch muttered. "I was worried he''d try to teleport the whole train in somehow."


    "I wish he had." The gangster''s tone made the comment sound deceptively jocular. "Then we could leave you to the old boss. I ain''t too keen on fighting dames. Leaves a bad taste in the mouth."


    Sacred Witch took a step to the front. "You do intend to fight us, then?"


    "Would if I could, dollface," he replied with a shrug. "But my compatriots seem to have taken issue with me after our last song and dance." He turned just enough so they could see the chrome of the cowboy''s revolver pointed firmly at his back. "Can''t imagine why."


    "Because yer a yellow-bellied, backstabbing rattler," the cowboy replied with a snarl. "And ya talk too much. You should be thanking the Almighty we didn''t just bury ya on sight."


    "I''ll get right on that, pally," he smoothly returned. "Told you it was just a job." The gangster sighed and patted his coat, then groaned. "You could have at least left me my luckies. Even for us, depriving a man of his smokes is just cruel."


    "Maybe I should''ve," the cowboy bit back. "Give ya somethin'' else ta do with those gums of yours asides flapping ''em."


    "Wait," Flame Witch put in, "how do you plan to fight the four of us when two of yours are tied up with one pointing their gun at the other?"


    The cowboy rolled his eyes with an annoyed sigh and drew a much more modern-looking semi-automatic pistol from the small of his back with his free hand. "I''ve got his iron, too, smartass."


    "Shining Lance!"


    The surprise attack from Sword Witch blasted the cowboy away from the gangster, but the constructs weren''t sitting on their laurels. Immediately, she had to side step the old Oriental man''s jumping ax kick. She tried to grab his follow-up backhand to throw him to the ground, but he was too spry, gut-checking her with his other foot while they were fastened to one another.


    The yakuza tried to jump in, only to get intercepted by a flying tackle from Flame Witch, and shadow chains leaped from the ground to bind the old man, courtesy of Reina, just before the brunette took his head clean off with her sword.


    To the sounds of Flame Witch pummeling her own opponent in the background, the gangster took his pistol from the body of the cowboy and then patted him down. A moment later, he found his box of cigarettes and his lighter, pulled one out, sat back and lit it up.


    He looked up from his first pull and found them gathering back around him. "Wow, but you gals are snappy, aintcha ..." He gave a sardonic chuckle and took another puff, then blew it back out, not toward any of them. "Makes me glad to have an excuse to miss swapping knuckles."


    "Does that mean you don''t intend to fight us?"


    "What''s the point?" He shrugged at the redhead''s question. "Listen, Firecat, I''m a very By the Books sort. I pay my taxes on time, I keep to a schedule. But not because I''m some hotshot pip."


    He took another pull on his cancer stick. "I''m a fundamentally lazy man by nature, see, and the least amount of work is where all the wheels stay greased, savvy? Now, boss man tells me to do something, I''m gonna do my level best, but you don''t send a bruno to do a soup job with tinsel. My orders were to fit you dolls for Chicago overcoats, not to get my nines ruined for a biscuit trip."


    The gangster gave a shake of his head. "No way I''m taking you hoofers down, so no point in trying. Honestly, I don''t know what the big man was thinking with an order like that."


    Sword Witch crossed her arms. "I have a feeling he was just being a completionist. He didn''t expect you to win, he was just putting together a boss rush and didn''t care how fit you were so long as everything got represented."


    He let out a sour laugh at that. "All the more reason not to give him the satisfaction. Eh, he gave me G-Man willies, anyway." The gangster turned his attention to Flame Witch once more. "Go on, Firecat, shake a leg. Kitten''s waiting. You promised you''d bring her back home, didn''t you?"


    "... Yeah." She glanced over at Sword Witch at the reminder of that promise. "Yeah, I did."


    The girls took a moment to exchange nods in agreement, and then hurried down the hall.


    "I don''t care," he said to himself once their footfalls faded into the background bedlam of the school. "I can''t. And even if I could, I had two rounds in a game everybody else gets one. Nothing to complain about."


    The gangster flicked the cigarette away, its embers scattering across the hall floor, and shifted his attention to the gun in his hand.


    "All that''s left is to make sure the butter and egg man has one less patsy. Sorry, Kitten. Best I can do."


    He paused with the gun half-raised, as one might when listening for something, but then he shook his head and gave a thump to his chest where his heart would be.


    "Nope, nothing."


    *      *      *


    All of the girls stopped when they heard a gunshot echo down the hallway from behind them. For a moment before realization reached them, they thought they were getting shot in the back. A moment later, with a solemn face, Miss Sada urged them forward again.


    Only to find themselves face to face with the robed man from the bridge.


    "Amazing how revoltingly human they can be at times, isn''t it?" he asked.


    Flame Witch stomped forward before even Sword Witch could. "Where''s Haru?!"


    The Arbiter''s eyes widened at the demand, then cast them toward Sarasa. "Tut tut, Warden. Someone''s been messing with the records."


    The history teacher crossed her arms at the accusation. "I only fixed the alteration you made by removing her."


    "And absolutely not because it was easier than lengthy, repetitive, tedious explanations to lower life forms without the intellect, concepts or depth to understand? Warden, I find your dedication to higher principles," the last word was delivered with dripping sarcasm after the briefest of pauses, "outstanding."


    "About that," Ran spoke up, barely loud enough to be noticed. "Why do you assume we can''t understand something as simple as the concept of higher-dimensional physics?"


    The Arbiter visibly rolled his eyes. "Because, simple as it may be, yours is an experiential species. You won''t truly understand anything you can''t interact with, and your senses are restricted to a mere four planes."


    He threw his arms wide with exasperation. "It would be like explaining color to a blind man! He can understand it as a concept that exists, he may even understand it scientifically as the refraction of unabsorbed light particles, but the words! Red, yellow, blue, green! They will forever mean nothing to him!"


    "We get it, we''re blind old men." Sword Witch stepped forward to get his attention. "What do you want, Arbiter? What hoops are you going to make us jump through to get Haru back?"


    Perhaps Haru could have seen deeper into his heart if she had been here, but when he turned his attention to her, all the brunette could see in his gaze was irritation and contempt. Even his expressions on the bridge had been exasperation with sinners. He held no personal affront toward them beyond that he was being forced to interact with them at all.


    Because they were all so very far beneath him.


    "Yes, let''s get to the point," he agreed. "At the risk of sounding cliche, there are two ways to get her back, the easy w--"


    "Hard."


    "Hard."


    "Hard."


    Behind the brunette, the other three witches near-simultaneously gave their response, even the normally hesitant Shield Witch, the flash of steel in her eyes.


    There was irritation at being interrupted, but it only rested on the Arbiter''s face for a moment. "You don''t want to at least hear the options?"


    "We already know the easy option," Sacred Witch replied coldly. "We abandon Sword Witch and Nariko accepts a reset."


    "Yeah," Flame Witch agreed with heat to her words that the imperial edict from Reina hadn''t possessed. "If you think you can turn us against each other like that, your god complex isn''t the only delusion you''ve got!"


    Ran nodded, too, fists clenched before her in determination. "When we thought she might vanish at any moment, I swore that if I ever found the means to protect this Nariko from that, I''d do it! I can''t abandon a friend to oblivion! I''ll shield her from it with everything that I am!"


    Sword Witch wanted to give answer to their feelings, but when she turned to look back at them, she couldn''t speak around the lump in her throat. She could only think that she owed them so many milkshakes, as stupid a sentiment as that sounded within her head.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Miss Sada beamed pride despite still being in her feline form, and like always, her voice was unaltered by it. "Well, you have their answer, Arbiter. I would, of course, like to review your hard option before approving it."


    He was impassive at the girls'' emotional declarations, but growled in annoyance like paperwork was just demanded of him at Sarasa''s words. "You believe me overreaching?"


    "You have made yourself their antagonist," she pointed out. "It is your prerogative to set challenges for them, but not to wave your powers over them as a fifth-dimensional being. You must realize you are already pushing the boundary there."


    "Tsk." His head jerked to the side in frustration. "Fine. I have no intention of fighting them, myself. Here, I think you''ll find it within the boundaries of capability."


    Nothing passed between them, however, and he made no motion to hand anything over. And yet Sarasa''s cat eyes narrowed. "... Really?"


    "You said it, yourself. It is within my role to test them. Let them prove their resolve, then."


    Her eyes stayed pinned on him for a few moments longer, but then she sighed and flashed back to her human form behind the girls.


    They at once turned to her. "Miss Sada?" Natsumi asked.


    "I''m sorry," she replied, head down, "but by playing that particular card, I''ve tied my own hands."


    She put a warm smile on her face, though. "But they are only tied because I believe in you. You can overcome this trial, and then his own hands will be bound for quite some time. Defeat him in his own game here, and he will not be able to act so boldly again."


    Miss Sada watched with sad pride as each girl steeled herself in turn, then gave one last word of advice. "Just remember, when you see the light, run."


    "No more, Warden, I insist."


    She held her hands up at the Arbiter''s words. "I intended no more." Then one more smile for the girls. "I''ll be waiting for you on the other side."


    The moment she vanished, the entire school began to rumble.


    "Now that that''s been resolved," the Arbiter spoke calmly as the ground behind the girls began to fall away into a white, luminous abyss, "I suggest you take her advice."


    *     *     *


    The Witches'' feet pounded underneath them, the constant rumble of the abyss only overshadowed by the incessant humming the Arbiter seemed to add just to freak them out. The volume of the abyss was constant, but the Arbiter''s humming always told them just how close behind he was.


    The void stayed wherever the Arbiter passed, meaning it was growing larger with every step he took. They''d found that out the hard way when they tried to circle around him. Flame Witch and Sword Witch were able to blow open an escape passage into another hallway, but it had been too close a thing.


    "Is he just up and deleting reality, itself?!" the redhead complained as they ran. "Can he just do that?!"


    "Like a line from paper, probably," the brunette confirmed, "but that''s not what he''s doing."


    "Oh, please tell me it''s a spell and you just copied it! I''ll never complain about you being a spell thief again!"


    But she shook her head. "We''re not in reality, remember? We''re in a pocket world. He''s just changing that. Like overwriting a hard drive with ones and zeroes until all of the data on it is nullified."


    Natsumi scowled over at her. "Most people just say erase, Kelly."


    "It''s not ... erasure ..." Ran pumped beside them. "Destructive ... data nuking ... More thorough ..."


    "You okay, Ran," the brunette called over.


    The gunmetal girl nodded. "Just ... regretting ... not taking gym ..."


    "We can''t keep running like this," Sacred Witch put in, her raven hair trailing behind her. "Sooner or later, we''ll run out of space. We need a destination and we need to stop his advance."


    "Destination, destination ..." The brunette racked her brain. "Somewhere important. Where would we go if we were in trouble?"


    "The nurse''s office?" Shield Witch ventured.


    "The teacher''s lounge," Sacred Witch stated.


    Then Flame Witch got it. "The club room!"


    At once, everyone nodded and adjusted course with new gusto.


    "We still need to slow him down," Reina reminded the group. "How do we slow down oblivion?"


    "We make someone owe us a favor," Sword Witch answered and pulled her phone out, praying it had reception.


    *     *     *


    The prince''s room at the imperial palace was, he thought, fairly normal. "Room" was doing a lot of heavy lifting, true, but it''s not like anybody actually counts their bathroom as part of their bedroom. Or their closet. Or the adjoining seating area. And everybody keeps snacks around, right?


    Okay, so it was larger than normal. He was a prince, after all. The bathroom had a hot tub the size of a small pool, the closet was a walk-in that, were everything stripped out, he could have fit his princely bed in, and the seating area was the size of a living room, even before considering its adjoining kitchenette.


    All told, there were houses smaller than his bedchambers, but that wasn''t what he meant when he thought of it as normal.


    It was still a bedroom. His bedroom. A private place, sacrosanct from all of the politics and spies of the imperial court.


    Oh, certainly, if he ever brought a female here, it would be news across the empire within the hour, there could be no doubt of that. But things? The gossipmongers didn''t care about things.


    His mother knew about the shrine. It wasn''t really for spiritual worship, but it could hardly be described as anything else. Every teenager decorated their walls with those things they liked most. Bands, movies, video games, sports teams. His focus just happened to be ... narrower.


    Really, the Witches were startlingly popular among younger demons. Oh, they all knew the girls were enemies, but he didn''t even start the fan club ... even if his undercover activities allowed him a better collection.


    That''s what the shrine was, after all. Photographs and mementos of the Witches. A pencil Shield Witch had once given Jack, the empty box that had once held obligation chocolates from Thunder Witch, again given to Jack, snapshots of Flame Witch spooked by a haunted house.


    Yes, his mother knew, and like most parents, she grudgingly tolerated it. When the enemy is young, attractive and powerful, it is only natural for young demons to be attracted to such traits. Besides, one day, such mementos may be the only records of their hated enemies to remain.


    He was arranging the latest photos, pictures from Thunder Witch''s airsoft club, when his phone rang. Eirwen gave a chuckle when he saw the name. "Well, speak of the Witch."


    He would have loved to actually have it say Thunder Witch, but this was supposed to be Jack''s phone, and that would have been far too suspicious. Instead, it just displayed a professional, "Nariko Kelly." Outings like the haunted house had proven excellent opportunities to get the girls'' numbers.


    For her to call unprovoked on a Saturday filled him with all sorts of ideas. Was she looking for someone to hang out with?


    He swiped to pick up and held the human device up to his long, sharp ear, but answered easily with the voice of the human boy Jack. "Kelly? What a surprise! To what do I--"


    "Cut the bull, Wren!" she immediately interrupted him, and he could hear the heavy breathing and footfalls of running. "We don''t have time for it!"


    So it was official. She really did know. He''d been suspecting, what with her constant slip-ups, but it was impossible, so slip-ups were all they could have been. He thought about denying it, but if she really didn''t have time ...


    He dropped it and went back to his normal voice. "Then you''ve reached the Crown Prince of the Demon Empire, Sword Witch. That''s audacity."


    "That''s an emergency," she corrected. "You were the only person I could think of to call!"


    That made his heart simultaneously sing and stab itself. He didn''t let it reach his voice, though, and rolled back onto his bed as he answered. "I can''t help you against demons. I know you''re amnesic, but I''d hope something like that would be obvious."


    "It''s not a demon attack," she corrected him. "It''s the Arbiter!"


    He sat up straight. "The Arbiter? As in the myth?"


    "He''s real," she insisted. "Like some sort of evil Sarasa. And he took one of us, erased her from memory, and he''s holding her for ransom!"


    An erased Witch?! A whole fifth Witch?! And he was being denied recollection of such a divine revelation?! "Where are you?"


    "We''re at the school. We''re trying to get to Haru, but he''s pursuing us with an oblivion void!"


    "I''m on my way."


    "Be careful! It can''t be coincidence--"


    But he''d already hung up and vanished from his room.


    *     *     *


    Sword Witch glared down at her phone. "Damn it, you impatient brat! It can''t be coincidence that I was able to call you from inside of a seal!"


    "Forget it," Sacred Witch ordered. "We''ll cut through the rec field!"


    The brunet nodded and the group followed their leader for the double doors heading to the connecting hallway.


    But the moment they burst through, they skidded to a stop. The back half of the connecting hallway was nothing but white light, and the Arbiter stood calmly at the precipice.


    "Shortcuts?" he asked. "No, I don''t think so."


    "ICE COFFIN!"


    Eirwen''s shout overrode the dull roar of collapsing existence into the abyss as everything ahead of the Witches, and a good way into the abyss itself, instantly froze over. The ice that stretched into the luminescent oblivion was quick to break down, collapse and dissipate into nothingness, but everything else stopped.


    Including the Arbiter.


    The demon prince landed on the edge of the frostline a moment later, then tossed his bangs out of his face. "Well, now, that wasn''t so bad. A guy might think you just wanted to see him!"


    "We have a ... lack of crowd control in our roster, it would seem," Sacred Witch admitted as if it were a personal failure.


    Flame Witch didn''t have the same hesitancy. "Did you just kill a fifth-dimensional being?!"


    "Ah, no," the boy admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "He''s still alive. Stuck as an ice statue for all eternity, but ... was I supposed to kill him?"


    Sword Witch pointed toward the Arbiter. "Eternity is cracking."


    Wren wheeled on the sight with disbelief, but the moment he confirmed it, he threw a hand back and blasted the girls back down the hall.


    "Go!" he shouted. "I''ll keep him stuck here as long as I can." But as he spoke, he was creating an ice wall between them and him. "I want to meet that fifth Witch!"


    As it sealed off completely, the girls were left in silence, no humming, no rumble.


    Sword Witch got her feet under her first and started jogging down the hallway. The other girls were quick to follow, but not all for the same reason.


    "Wait," Ran tried. "What about Wren?!"


    "You heard him," the brunette replied. "It''s too late, he''s chosen how he''s going out. If we save Haru, then all of this can be undone. If we go down because we dawdled when we couldn''t do anything, then ... well ..."


    She couldn''t say it would waste it all, since everything would still be reset. Fortunately, Reina was able to finish the thought.


    "If we go down, then nothing anyone has done will matter. It will have never happened, anyway. Mr. Sato. Hisoka. The train. It all goes back to the way it always happens."


    Sword Witch nodded, causing a hardened look to cross the others'' faces, and they ran on.


    *     *     *


    "FROZEN COCYTUS!!!"


    As Eirwen summoned his most powerful spell, arctic energies swirled around him, danced to his bidding. He willed them to saturate every inch of space. Every cell, every molecule, every subatomic particle.


    He opened his eyes as he threw his hands toward the enemy he sought to destroy. "Take my enemies under and remove them from existence! ERASE!!!"


    The energies spiraled out, ripping apart the bonds of existence at absolute zero. The Arbiter''s face literally disintegrated into diamond dust and his body blew back into its own oblivion field.


    Wren let out a sigh of relief, giving a swipe of his sweatless brow. "Whoo. You really had me worried, there, old man! To start breaking out of my Ice Coffin! Who does that? Guess that fifth dimensional talk wasn''t just talk, eh?"


    He adjusted his coat confidently. "Made me waste that great final line, too. I can''t drop one like that twice, you know!"


    The boy turned toward the ice wall and motioned for it to fall away ... but it stayed. He tried again, but he suddenly couldn''t feel the magic at all. His own mana refused to respond to him!


    "What ... what''s going on?!"


    "Breaking out of your Ice Coffin was not the feat of a fifth-dimensional being." The Arbiter''s mouth reformed, speaking even before the rest of him had done so, though the rest wasn''t far behind. "It was a simple flex of strength. Severing you from magic with a gesture of will? That, boy, is power your reality cannot comprehend."


    "Ice Coffin!" Without another option, Wren tried again. "Damn it, Ice Coffin!"


    Arbiter stepped toward the powerless boy. "You want so badly to see another Witch that you would turn on your god?"


    Giving up on magic, Eirwen tried to brace himself for fisticuffs, though a direct fight was never his forte. "You''re no god of mine, Arbiter. I don''t know what you are, but you''re no god."


    The Arbiter raised one hand toward Eirwen''s face, letting it hover over it. "I am as close to it as you will ever live to see. Pray, boy, and I might hear you. But you''ve already chosen your fate."


    And the Demon Prince screamed as his own body disintegrated a piece at a time.


    Once the Arbiter was again alone in the makeshift ice box, he motioned to the wall. It fell away just as its previous master had desired, and the humming and rumble began again.

 Chapter Thirty-Six

    (36)


    "There it is!"


    "Finally!"


    "I don''t know how much longer I can keep running ..."


    The club room door was a welcome sight. The repeated battles, however quickly they were over, and the constant fleeing were taking their toll on the girls, and they redoubled their efforts to reach the doorway.


    They gave one final push into their legs as the door opened ahead of them, light shining through. Not the light of the abyss, but genuine sunlight from a window beyond. It was the most beautiful sight they''d seen all day.


    The girls piled through the door, and the moment the last was through, Red slammed the door shut behind them. Immediately, the humming and rumbling stopped, and they all gave a sigh of relief.


    "It''s about time," Riko scolded them as they knelt on the ground or leaned against the door. "Have you got any idea how long I''ve been waiting?"


    Ran, Reina and Natsumi looked to Sword Witch, but she was looking straight ahead.


    ... at an identical face, long hair worn loose, and clad in the school uniform with the freshman neckerchief. Nariko Kelly''s face was grinning as she looked over the four of them, arms crossed as if her superiority was already confirmed.


    "Kelly?" Ran asked, looking back and forth between the twins in confusion. "Why is another Kelly here?"


    "There''s only one Kelly here," Nariko insisted in reply, giving a stomp of her foot. "The other one''s a fake!"


    Sword Witch got her feet under her and moved over to a chair before plopping down again. "It makes sense," she said. "We got the boss rush, we cleared the environmental hazard chase, now we get the last boss. Arbiter''s nothing if not traditional, I''ll give him that."


    "Hey!" the other brunette protested. "You of everyone here shouldn''t be ignoring me, you know!"


    "I''m not ignoring you," Sword Witch countered. "I''m taking a breather. Besides, you haven''t even pulled out the Coliseum yet."


    The others were starting to pull themselves up, too. It was Sacred Witch who asked, "The Coliseum?"


    Sword Witch shrugged and tossed a hand back toward her. "Hardly enough room to fight in here, right?"


    Ran swallowed audibly. "We have to fight Nariko?"


    Nariko crossed her arms again, this time more in irritation. "I''d settle for just fighting the faker, but it''s not like the rest of you were ever a match. Sure, four on one''s fine by me."


    She turned and grinned at Flame Witch, who was already starting forward. "I know at least one of you''ve been chomping at the bit for that opportunity for years."


    The redhead stopped short of actually attacking, only seething and clenching her fist. "Oooh, I did not miss this attitude."


    "Darling and Dear were right," Sword Witch agreed. "You''re not quippy at all. You''re just--"


    "A bratty know-it-all, I know," Nariko cut her off, tossing her hair. "I''ve heard it before. I can''t help it, I actually do know it all."


    But her counterpart just relaxed an arm over the back of her chair. "For someone who knows everything, you''re very bad at prodding me for a reaction."


    "It''s because you know it''s what I''m doing, so you''re just ignoring it." The untransformed girl shrugged. "You might as well be cheating."


    Reina stepped forward. "Why are neither of you more disturbed by this?"


    "Why?" Sword Witch scoffed. "Obviously, she knew we were coming. As for me, well, it all made sense the moment she showed up. Nothing''s changed. It''s the same old tune Arbiter''s been playing all along."


    Nariko stomped toward her at that. "Don''t treat me like I''m some sort of puppet, faker! I''m fighting for my existence here!"


    "So is everyone else in this room, Kiddo," came the reply, making a vein on the schoolgirl''s head pop. "Welcome to the club."


    "What did you call me?!"


    Rather than repeat herself, Sword Witch turned her full attention to Nariko for the first time since she sat down. "But we''re fighting for something else, too. Where''s Haru?"


    Nariko seethed, hissing through her teeth. "I told you not to ignore me! Haru''s fine, I''m keeping her safe! She''ll come back with me and everything will be normal again!"


    "Yeah?" Sword Witch asked. "You think she''ll be just hunky-dory with you offing all the rest of her friends?"


    "Pshht," the other girl went with a dramatic roll of her head. "I''m not going to kill any of them. Just you, imposter."


    "I''m just curious, why do you keep bothering calling me an imposter and a faker when you know I''m ignoring it?"


    "What else am I supposed to call you?" Nariko demanded. "Defective? I''m not calling you by my name, that''s for sure."


    "And Haru''s going to be fine with you killing me just because she''s got you?"


    Now, Nariko turned to face her pony-tailed counterpart with a cocky grin. "You''re joking, right? You''ve gotta be joking."


    "I have a horrible sense of humor."


    Behind her, Flame Witch scoffed. Both brunettes ignored it.


    "She chose me!" Nariko threw her arms wide. "How do you think she ended up here in the first place? How do you think I ended up here?"


    "Five-D shenanigans."


    The remark earned Sword Witch only a scowl before Nariko continued. "Haru wanted the real Riko back, not some faker that can''t remember anything. Fighting to the death was the Arbiter''s idea, though. You''re right, I''m sure she wouldn''t like it. But there really isn''t a choice anymore, anyway. After all, you''ve got to fight, too, you know. What''s going to be your moral excuse for killing me?"


    "Fair point," Sword Witch admitted. "Then the real question is, will you lose any sleep over it?"


    "Lose sleep over it?" the doppelganger repeated. "I''m taking back my life, my family, my friends! Have you even told my parents about your charade yet?"


    At that, Sword Witch stood up. "It''s not a charade. We already had that conversation. I am Nariko Kelly."


    That got a laugh out of Nariko, who spun about on the spot. "But you don''t believe that. None of you do. And Haru doesn''t. She wants me back, imposter. Not you. Me. She''s tired of holding you up all of the time, did you know that?"


    When Sword Witch didn''t immediately have a comeback, Nariko dropped the arrogant tone and stepped in closer.


    "You know, this doesn''t have to be a big deal," she said more quietly. "The fight has to happen because we let the Arbiter make the rules, but I can make it quick. One lightning bolt, and it can all be over. We both want what''s best for Haru, and for the team. You won''t even feel a thing."


    Sword Witch closed her eyes, her head declining. The words weren''t lies. Tricks, maybe, but they used the truth. Was she really such a burden to everyone? Sure, she''d helped get through the rough parts, but they were in uncharted territory now. Was an outside-the-box thinker really needed so much anymore? Had she outlived her usefulness?


    Maybe not, but was she selfishly holding onto that excuse to avoid giving everyone their friend back? To avoid giving Yoshi and Anna their sister back? Marcus and Saki their daughter? And what of poor Haru? The brunette''s own shortcomings had driven her to bargaining with the Arbiter.


    Yes, she was still young, and it could easily be called a mistake of naivety, but it had still happened. Haru wanted Nariko back that badly.


    She could feel her resistances begin to crumble, the same forces that fended off an enhanced Dakunaito weighing down on her shoulders like pillory stocks.


    "No! Stop Riko!"


    Her eyes snapped back open. "Haru?!"


    The television in the corner was on, and in it, the blonde''s face was pressed against the screen, desperately straining against it with the urgency of her words.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    But it wasn''t a directive for Riko to stop. It was an order to stop her, and Sword Witch''s eyes immediately went to the school girl, but she looked just as confused.


    "Don''t let her give up, not like that! The Arbiter--"


    But the feed cut and the television went off again.


    "Tch," the school girl grumbled. "Traitor. I was so close. All you had to do was sit there and be quiet, and everything would have been okay again."


    But the other Witches were losing their hesitation. One by one, they came to stand again behind Sword Witch.


    "I see," Reina spoke for them, and her gaze was like a headsman''s ax. "You''re not really Nariko at all. You really are just a construct, the Arbiter''s puppet."


    "I wouldn''t have been!" Nariko insisted back. "All I had to do was get rid of the faker, and I would be back to my old self! But fine! You all want to fight now? I told you I could take you all on!"


    She jumped back, lightning flickering at her fingertips. Sword Witch''s eyes widened and she lunged forward, too, grabbing the girl just as she threw the card skywards.


    Nariko grinned right into Sword Witch''s face, as if to say how much she was about to regret doing that, then shouted, "TRANSFORM!"


    The blast of lightning sent Sword Witch flying backwards as the electricity settled in around Nariko. She turned and spun, its static solidifying into boots, a skirt, bracelets, flared gloves and a faux v-top with cloth pauldrons in flashes of light.


    "Brilliant Storm of Ambition! Thunder Witch!"


    With that declaration, the room changed, and by the time Sword Witch got back to her feet, Thunder Witch was gloating over the featureless yellow void they were all now standing in, semi-translucent marble floor stretching into the distance in every direction.


    Off to one side, Haru sat on her knees inside of a gilded bird cage suspended in mid-air.


    "Well?" Thunder Witch inquired, clearly enjoying the moment. "What do you think of my Coliseum now that it''s out?"


    Sacred Witch cast her gaze and her senses around. "This place is completely saturated with raw magic."


    That drove the Witch to throw her head back in laughter. "I''m not surprised Tamashini would notice! It''s not just saturated! This entire plane is nothing but raw magic energy!" She held a hand out toward the group as lightning began to spark across her palm. "It''s the Arbiter''s gift to guarantee I can''t lose! Thunder Cannon!"


    Shield Witch grunted as the spell collided with her barrier, and two other Witches stared as the barrier cracked in the brief instance of the assault.


    The fourth Witch didn''t care.


    The ponytailed brunette bolted for her doppelganger, blade drawn back. Thunder Witch ducked under the slash and jumped back to avoid the follow-up kick in hauntingly familiar patterns. With one deadly difference.


    She''s fast, Sword Witch thought as she took a shocker attack like a taser to her knee instead of it just being shoved away. Even though her follow-through with a Shining Lance was immediate, Thunder Witch was already dipping to the side and the beam blazed harmlessly past her ear. Faster than me.


    I need to be faster. I need more power.


    Her eyes glowed dimly as she focused on demanding more. More from her body. More from her magic. More from the evangelium.


    Thunder Witch''s laughter echoed in the wake of her evasion. Shadow vines leaped up to grab at her, but both she and Sword Witch were no longer in the zone of control they sought to grasp. She spun out of the way of fireballs from two different directions.


    And each miss was punished with blindingly-fast casting. Ran''s defenses were absorbed with protecting the main party, but even so, her barrier wasn''t getting enough time to regenerate. Holes were growing in its membrane.


    More!


    Sword Witch tried hard to harass her, to keep her too busy to split her attention, but she was too fast. The evangelium and hordestadt were starting to grow warm against her skin, and a sensation like an impending sore throat was beginning to seep into her body.


    More!


    If she could just get her hands on the electric imp, she could end it in one blow, but it was like chasing wind. Thunder Witch seemed to gloat in how close she stayed, encouraging the continued attempts as if they were nothing more than the opportunity to show off.


    She knew what Sword Witch was going to do. She could see it coming. She had the speed to counter. At each clash, she was moving before the blow even came.


    To a degree, the brunette could do the same. It was how she could engage for so long outside of Ran''s protective barrier. The longer she fought Thunder Witch, the more she could see her tells, identify what was coming, figure out how to avoid it. The gap was closing, but not fast enough. At this rate, she would burn out before she learned enough.


    MORE!


    The light from her eyes trailed behind her movements as what hair was unrestrained began to hackle and spark. The itching sensation intensified and expanded, and her sword hand grew uncomfortably warm, but her attacks were coming closer.


    Thunder Witch seemed to notice, too. Her attacks against the other Witches started to slow as she focused more on her counterpart.


    "I don''t know how you''re doing that," she complained as she turned to avoid a thrust and turned the movement into a pirouette to avoid the swipe toward her, "but it''s not enough! It can''t be! You don''t get it, I have unlimited energy! You''ll kill yourself before you can--"


    That''s when she saw it, a path to progress. Thunder Witch was preparing another Cannon, Sword Witch was attempting to pin her down with shots from the pistol. She lunged, aiming to make the pistol more difficult to avoid from closer in, but Thunder Witch wasn''t aiming for her.


    Thunder Witch''s eyes widened as both of them turned out of the way of their attacks, Sword Witch allowing the beam to pass down and slam again into Shield Witch''s barrier, finally shattering the perforated construct like glass even as the pistol''s beam soared past her.


    And then she froze as the sound of metal blasting apart and Haru''s yelp reached her. Sword Witch wasn''t aiming for her, either. A feint?


    Sword Witch''s hand closed around her collar and yanked her down, aiming to slam her hard into the ground, no doubt for a coup de grace.


    But Thunder Witch''s face split into a smile an instant before they both kept going, swinging around as if they were suddenly in zero gravity, tethered only to some vague point in space.


    Rather than break out, she drew back her firing hand, lightning beginning to dance around it. "Did you forget already? Pure energy! There is no floor, idiot! Thunder-- Huh?"


    As she thrust her hand toward her enemy, Sword Witch actually reached forward and grabbed it, palm to palm, gritting as she concentrated on power. More. More power!


    I NEED MORE POWER!


    Thunder Witch''s eyes widened as she witnessed the energy of the plane begin to shift into her opponent, golden-blue jewelry beginning to glow white, the roots of her hair toying with the yellow of pure electrical energy.


    "You stop that! That''s MY power! You have no right to it!" She shoved her hand forward again. "Thunder Cannon!"


    "SHINING LANCE!"


    The clashing energies began to flash and spill from between their palms as they entered a magical arm-wrestling match, each pouring more and more energy into the centimeter of space. The spells stretched longer and longer as they struggled, refusing to cut the power, to finish the attack, to release their white-knuckled clasping of the other''s hand.


    "Furious Dragon''s ... EXPLOSION!!!"


    Thunder Witch turned to look at the incoming fireball, but couldn''t pull away. When she tried, Sword Witch refused to let go. Instead, they entered a struggle trying to wrestle the other into the path, but with nothing to push against, they just continued to turn and rotate in "mid-air."


    As a last-ditch effort, they both shoved one last mass of energy through their spells, just before the third collided.


    Neither even heard the explosion as the light, heat and energy briefly overwhelmed everything, and then, somehow, gravity had reasserted itself, as both landed on their backs on opposite ends of the battlefield.


    Sword Witch was mildly aware of grunting with the impact, but little else. Hands reached out and grabbed her, lifted her up off of the ground, but she was still too dazed to process it.


    "Riko! Tell me you''re okay, Riko!"


    "Haru?" she asked, cracking her eyes against the washed-out light of the planar arena.


    "I''m right here! I''m not going anywhere ever again! Just be okay!"


    "Tell Red ..."


    When her words were cut short by a cough, another voice interrupted. "Tell Red what? Are you going to complain?"


    "... I was gonna say ... nice shot."


    "Pfft, yeah, you''d better."


    She made a conscious effort to find her feet and get them underneath her, and the hands helped her stand. She looked to them for something to focus on and found Haru smiling at her from one side and Flame Witch - supporting basically all of the weight - on the other.


    Ran and Reina had their focus trained on the other side of the field, where Thunder Witch was bound in shadow chains and wrapped in a bubble field.


    She didn''t seem upset, though. At least, not about the containment.


    "Why ...?" she asked plaintively. "Why did you run to her and not me?"


    Haru moved to put herself in front of Sword Witch. "Because you''re not my Riko! Maybe she''s not all of her, either, but she''s more Riko than you are!"


    "You''re only saying that ... because you can''t feel my emotions ..."


    Haru hesitated at that, but Sacred Witch spoke up instead. "Prove it, Kelly. Answer me truthfully. If you didn''t have to kill Sword Witch, would you let her go?"


    The order was delivered with authority. It was a monarch demanding a response, and Thunder Witch''s teeth ground as she tried to resist.


    "That''s ... not a fair question, Tamashini ... Ask another!"


    "I asked that one. Answer!"


    She grit her jaw. "I can''t let her have her way with my family, my friends, my life! I won''t share with her!"


    "Riko would never be so selfish!" Haru screamed across at her.


    "Ask her, then," was the cold response. "You can tell if she lies, after all."


    The gazes in the room turned to Sword Witch, but she didn''t hesitate to answer. "What''s one more sibling but a good thing?"


    That answer made Thunder Witch seethe again. "Fine! You want to side with them?! You want to abandon me?! I''ll reset the whole thing! No more Sword Witch stealing from me! Humiliating me!"


    Lightning began to surround the witch despite the chains and barrier. One moment, Sacred Witch retracted her outstretched hand with a hiss as if she''d grabbed something hot and the chains shattered. The next, Shield Witch crumpled down to one knee, and the lightning exploded out.


    "Shocking Lightning ..."


    By this point, Sword Witch was confident she knew a finisher charging when she saw it. She reached out, grabbed the untransformed Haru around the waist and tossed her back into a surprised Flame Witch''s arms.


    "CRASH!!!"


    The great bolt of lightning came from between the hands of the false witch as she finished her spin, and reflexively, Sword Witch threw all of the effort she''d reached in the battle with her back into her demonic gear.


    Somewhere inside her, she felt something protest, but she ignored it as she lunged forward and shoved her sword to the sky, dragging as much energy in as she possibly could and hoping against hope it would do what she wanted.


    The bolt leaped from its trajectory to strike the sword with an explosion of energy she thought beyond imagination. She vaguely heard Haru cry out again, but she refused to be distracted. The energy that lanced through her, she grabbed it, forced it into the blade as it glowed white hot, like an electric fire in the darkness the whole realm suddenly seemed by contrast.


    Ahead of her, she heard Thunder Witch swear. "What are you DOING?! You fucking CHEATER! That''s not possible! You can''t just take that! That''s MINE!!!"


    "No," Sword Witch growled back through her concentration to keep the raging energies at bay. "I''m Nariko Kelly. Lightning ... belongs to me!" She shoved the sword toward the sky again. "DARKNESS CRUSHER!"


    Dark flames engulfed the brilliantly white blade, swirled with it, fought for dominance. That thing within her went from protesting to painful, but she forced her will into holding the conflicting powers. Unseen to all, the blade of the unlimited evangelium began to crack.


    Thunder Witch took a step back. "What are you doing?!" she repeated. "How are you doing it?!"


    "I''m finishing this," she answered through the strain. "As for how ..." Sword Witch''s eyes burned as she began a rotation with that heavy blade overflowing with power. "I''m SWORD WITCH!"


    "FURIOUS DRAGON''S EXPLOSION!!!"


    And as she brought the sword down, filled to bursting with dark fire and blazing light, the blade shattered, and all the realm with it.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven

    (37)


    When the brunette''s senses returned, the energy of the realm no longer felt so overbearing and omnipresent. It had faded to a gentle white, like being inside of an eggshell.


    She was also no longer transformed, clad in her casual weekend clothes she''d worn to the mall.


    "So I lost. It really happened."


    She wasn''t the one who said it. Instead, her attention was drawn to Nariko, who likewise was back in her school uniform, wearing a sad smirk.


    Haru was the only other person there with them. All of the other Witches were gone. "You both fought very well," she insisted consolingly. "Sword Witch just has a knack for breaking the rules."


    Nariko scoffed. "You mean she''s a cheater."


    The brunette shrugged. "All''s fair, yadda, yadda." She took a step toward the other girl, though. "You''re really her this time. Nariko Kelly. The Thunder Witch version."


    But the schoolgirl shook her head. "No, I''m still just a construct, and a fading one at that. But I''m based on everything Nariko Kelly is, all of her memories, everything she cares about. That ... hatred the Arbiter filled me with, though, that''s broken. He must''ve given up on me when I lost."


    The brunette''s face took on an austere expression. "Is there anything you want me to do?"


    Nariko gave a small chuckle and shook her head. "The usual. Hug my family, tell them I love them. Keep Yoshi out of trouble." Haru gave her arm a squeeze, and she turned toward her with a small smile as she returned the gesture. "Take care of Haru." And then back to the brunette. "All things I know that you''re going to do, anyway. Because you''re Nariko Kelly."


    But then she cracked half a grin. "Though there is one thing you could do that I don''t think would come naturally to you. Could you avoid making such serious expressions with my face? It looks all wrong, and you''re going to give us early wrinkles."


    The same expression reflexively spreads across the brunette''s face. "I''ll try."


    Haru threw her arms around Nariko''s shoulders, bawling. "I don''t want either of you to go! I just got you back!"


    Nariko''s grin softened into a smile even as she nearly toppled over under the assault, but she pried the blonde''s arms off and turned to brace her at arm''s length. "Oh, Haru, I''m not going anywhere."


    The twintailed girl sniffed. "... You''re not?"


    Nariko reached to her neck and pulled on a chain that Haru had always worn. The brunette always assumed it was just a necklace, but there was a locket at the base. Nariko popped it open like she was familiar with it.


    She smiled at the picture inside. "The fairgrounds. We''d just gotten into middle school."


    Haru giggled. "You ate a turkey leg so big you were holding it in two hands! You were so sick by the time you got through it that you swore off bird meat for a whole three months!"


    "It wasn''t my fault," the other girl protested. "It was that last ride! The spinning was too much for anyone!"


    "Nobody else had stomach stuffing trailing out the window all the way home!"


    The girls laughed together over the shared memory, but finally, Nariko clicked the locket shut again and lifted Haru''s palm to place it there.


    She closed the blonde''s fingers over the metal capsule. "I''m staying right here, Haru." She tapped the hand again and repeated herself. "Right here. Whenever you need me, you just need to remember me, and I''ll be right beside you."


    The blonde was tearing up again. "But I don''t want to just remember you, Riko! That''s all I''ve been doing!"


    But Nariko took both of her hands and folded them around the one holding the locket. "Listen to me, Haru. I am never, ever letting you go. I know it hurts sometimes, especially someone with as big a heart as you. But here, in here, you will never be alone. I promise you."


    She clenched the hand tighter. "Inside this locket, we''re still back at that fair, time standing still forever and ever, and we''ll be there every time you go back. And then, one day ..." Her gaze drifted to the brunette. "I don''t know when it will be, but I''ll come back there, too."


    The brunette only gave a reassuring nod. This was not her moment.


    Nariko smiled and turned back to Haru once more. "So Haru, I know it will be hard, but I want you to wait for me there, okay? Wait for me to come home, because nobody else will."


    Haru''s eyes began to drift down, so Nariko took one hand and lifted her chin up again, to make their eyes meet. "Will you do it, Haru? Can I count on you?"


    And the smile Haru gave nearly caused the brunette''s spectating heart to shatter. "I''ll do it, Riko. I''ll wait." She took a step away, still connected by Nariko''s hands, but now standing more next to the brunette. "I''ll wait as long as it takes for you to come back."


    The brunette finally spoke again, giving a half-nod to her counterpart, who was growing fainter by the moment. "And I''ll keep your seat warm."


    At that, Nariko gave one final scoff. "Who are you kidding, you idiot? You''re my ride."


    *     *     *


    The eggshell white of the magical plane faded into an indistinct haze that reformed itself into the more familiar shapes of the club room. Or, at least, the club room ceiling.


    The brunette blinked at the confusing sight, only beginning to realize that she was on her back. She took a moment to process the sounds around her. She registered the other Witches and Miss Sada talking quietly among themselves, but the other sounds she associated with the school were absent.


    So it was still Saturday. Or was Saturday again? In any case, the school seemed to be empty of students again, minus a club or two that had a weekend practice. Did that mean things were back to normal?


    Beside her, a familiar voice groaned quietly, but it was enough to get the attention of everyone else in the room, and suddenly there were four heads competing for space in her field of vision.


    "They''re up!" Red nearly shouted. "Hey, are you two okay?"


    Alright, so rest was officially over. "Our ears won''t be if you keep blasting like that a foot from our faces."


    Natsumi frowned at that, as if mulling something over. "Well, that''s not enough to tell which one came back." She turned toward a white head in the field of view. "What do you think, Miss Sada?"Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "I think you were a bit too loud, dear," the teacher replied, patting the redhead''s arm. "I know you''re excited that they''re back, but let''s try to remember our inside voice, hmm?"


    She frowned again, this time clearly not appreciating getting scolded, but she managed a muttered, "Sorry," under her breath.


    There was a shifting of cloth next to the brunette, and Haru''s face joined the others. "... Are you getting up, Riko?"


    "I was thinking about it." Really, it was a little odd that she hadn''t already started, so she couldn''t fault the question. "Seems a bit crowded up there, though. A little room?"


    The faces all traded glances for a moment before pulling away a little.


    The brunette got an arm underneath her and shifted toward a sitting position. The instant she passed an unseen threshold, a shock of agony went from her tailbone all the way up her spine and into her skull.


    She hissed, eyes wide, but then clenched them tightly shut against the pounding that the pain caused in her head. "Agh, damn it, not again ...!"


    Haru was immediately there, supporting her, while the others wore looks of panic and concern. "Riko, what''s wrong?!"


    "My everything! That''s what''s wrong!" She shifted in the girl''s grip, trying to get off of whatever spot triggered that.


    "You were holding three spells at once," Reina recalled. "I wouldn''t be surprised if you fried your magical pathways again."


    "And, y''know, I was fine while I was in there," the brunette insisted. "Even after the fight! But I get back here and ..." She tried to shift about for more comfort and hit the spot again. "Agh! What the--"


    Haru''s hand came across her mouth, resulting in the words coming out muffled. As the pain settled down again, this earned her a flat glare from the brunette, which she replied to with a luminescent grin.


    "You didn''t have this kind of response to burn-out," Ran observed. "You were in pain, yes, but you look like you are attempting to avoid something."


    "It''s my tailbone," she provided. "My whole spine, too, all the way up into my skull. It feels like my whole nervous system''s covered in glass shards, but it''s especially bad up and down the main thoroughfare."


    There was another presence in the room, and a shadow fell across the light from the window.


    "Three spells simultaneously is impossible." The dark knight''s voice filled the room even without being raised, and the pressure of the words caused her to flinch as if against a migraine.


    "We all saw her do it," Haru immediately rose to her defense, but Dakunaito raised a hand toward her.


    "I do not doubt that it occurred," he clarified. "Using the unique spells of another caster is also impossible, but her capacity to do so is well-documented."


    "Please, please don''t make him talk more than necessary," the brunette pleaded with Haru. "His voice echoes in my skull like a racket ball."


    His heavy footfalls sounded like great weights dropping against the tile. He gave the witches in his path only a glare before Sarasa urged them to clear the way, and then he came before the still-sitting brunette and the blonde who was supporting her.


    She made an effort to sit up straighter even though her body protested. Dakunaito narrowed his coal-like eyes, perhaps trying to determine what the gesture meant, but said nothing of it.


    "Summon your blade, Sword Witch," he demanded, though he at least had the decency to speak it in his equivalent of softly.


    "Hold on," Natsumi immediately protested, striding toward him. "If you want someone to fight right now--"


    He stood up suddenly, his hand lashing out to backhand her across the face, and the girl went flying into the side of a cabinet in the corner.


    Ran and Reina immediately readied themselves for combat as Haru gripped the brunette closer, but she raised a hand toward them all. "Wait! Stop! Don''t fight! He wasn''t attacking me!"


    "But Homura--" Haru tried.


    "She was coming at him to attack," the brunette explained. "Of course he acted. Besides, she insulted his honor by suggesting he''d pick a fight with someone who can barely move." She sighed. "Somebody get that hothead back on her feet and then hold her there."


    The room settled for a moment as they considered the reason in her words, then Reina and Ran went to see to their teammate.


    Dakunaito watched for a moment before he gave a glance to Sarasa, who had only stood there with an arched eyebrow through the exchange, and then turned back to the brunette. As if it were an invitation, Miss Sada came over, as well.


    "You have foolish allies," he commented.


    "Maybe, but they''re loyal," she replied. "I understand that''s harder to say about demons."


    He grunted, his only response, and she raised her sword arm. The motion was easy enough, but when she went to summon the sword, she hissed again, a spike of pain traveling up into her forearm before the blade appeared.


    Haru gasped, while Miss Sada put a hand against her own cheek.


    "Oh dear," the teacher intoned.


    "It''s broken!"


    Haru was right. The blade had tried to take the form of the short sword it always did, but the hilt was cracked and the blade looked snapped off along a rough, diagonal break. What was left was more like a jagged long knife that crackled along its severed edge.


    "Overloading evangelium and hordestadt," Dakunaito noted, "is also impossible."


    "I had to keep up," the brunette explained. "She was supercharging herself off of a plane of raw magic. I just kept pushing because it wasn''t enough."


    Though he hadn''t been there, he didn''t ask who "she" was. Instead, he only gave her another instruction. "Call on the power of the choker."


    She tried, and she immediately threw her head back, crying out in pain. From her forehead, all the way down her spine and into her tailbone, her body screamed, and she gave voice to its protest. It felt like lightning gripped her neurons and pulled on them in every direction at once.


    She flailed and seized, her limbs striking everything within reach as Haru and Miss Sada tried to restrain her. It was like her body completely left her control. She was stuck in a careening car and the steering wheel had just come off in her hands. She couldn''t even turn the choker back off again.


    And then a darkness came over her that stilled her. It was as if sleep settled over her limbs and her breathing shifted from jagged spasms to slow, deep cycles. The pain in her spine slipped away like joints popping back into place one at a time, until finally the jabbing agony in her temples settled and faded.


    "--Shardplague," Dakunaito was saying when her senses returned her to the light of the club room. He was standing off to the side, explaining it to Miss Sada. "It can happen when bonded weapons of lower tiers overload from being used by a demon with too much power."


    He drew his own blade to turn it over, as if for emphasis. "Because they are bonded, they cannot just detonate their entire being, and instead embed themselves in the demon''s arcane pathways. The power that was too great for them to handle holds them there like a magnet, fusing them to the channels."


    "Is it permanent?" the teacher asked.


    "There has never been a need for treatment," he explained. "A demon can regulate their own output, aligning the channels to eliminate the issue. It is treated as a sign of immaturity and incompetence, rather than as one might a disease."


    He let out a deep sigh. "Of course, were we dealing with an experienced demon, able to properly regulate their own energies, we would not be in the position of this discussion to begin with."


    "Can you teach me?"


    The words from the brunette drew the attention of everyone in the room, and Haru, who was still holding her up, panicked. "Riko! You can''t just ask a demon to train you! Even if it is Da-kun!"


    The knight growled, but moved back over to the witch. He gave Haru a passing glance, then a dismissive wave of his hand. "Release her."


    Haru hesitated, but the brunette gave her a nod, and the blonde stood up and stepped away.


    It hurt for the brunette to hold herself up, but less than it had initially. Had Dakunaito already seen to some of the alignment in order to turn the choker back off?


    "Stand up, Witch."


    The brunette pushed her way back to her feet. She gripped the table to pull herself up, and she teetered a bit when she got there, as her limbs still felt lethargic, but she straightened herself and stood upright before the demon.


    "Now, make such a ridiculous request of a demon lord properly, instead of doing it mewling from the ground."


    Properly? She took a gamble and made her way back down to her knees. She was, after all, asking to be his student. He seemed old-school like that. She ignored the way the other Witches gasped. This was too important to get hung up on pretense.


    "Lord Dakunaito, I ask you to teach me. Not just how to align my channels. Teach me how to win."


    His eyes held almost physical weight down on her. "Why?"


    "Because the Arbiter has too much power, and I have too little knowledge." She very carefully avoided saying she had too little actual power. "Because he expended himself too much in this exchange today, and this might be our only chance to prepare."


    She opened her eyes and said one more thing, calling to her understanding of his very nature. "Because I want to conquer my enemies."


    Dakunaito''s eyes narrowed. "Do you know for what fate you ask? Do you think that my training will relent because you are mortal?"


    "No," she answered without hesitation. "If I did, I wouldn''t bother asking. I expect Hell, itself, will seem pleasant by comparison. But we don''t have time to be soft."


    Miss Sada took a deep breath before speaking. "It is true that the Arbiter will be unable to commit any overt acts for some time, a few months, perhaps. But their schooling is not yet over. I can relinquish her to you for one of them, over summer break."


    His eyes flashed as if indignant of needing permission, but the expressionless void within his helmet remained otherwise unchanged. "That will be enough. But then you teach her how to regulate her channels. That should be well within your scope."


    He sheathed his massive sword again and turned away from the group. "You are a disappointment that you have withheld such knowledge this long. The least you can do is make sure she is able to function by the time she is mine."


    And he turned and glared over his shoulder at the still-kneeling witch. "I will not waste my time with a cripple. If she is not at least that capable by Summer''s dawn, I will refuse her, and kill her, myself."


    And he was gone.

 Chapter EX 1 - Harus First Day

    (EX1)


    Haru''s First Day


    The alarm was a frustratingly familiar sound, its voluminous bleating the harbinger of every undesirably premature day. To most people, anyway. Hers was a delightfully chiming sequence reminiscent of a music box, and its cheerful tune never failed to wake her with a similarly positive attitude.


    The blonde let it play as she stretched out her limbs in all directions with a big yawn before she ever sat up. Once she did, she still had to pull a curtain of blonde hair out of her face.


    There wasn''t a great deal of light in her room, what with the curtains still closed, but there was enough for her to swing her feet out of bed and reach out for the string.


    The curtains had duckies on them, a relic of her childhood, but she thought it too tragic to discard them for that alone. As a result, the bright yellow-on-blue design had stayed on for nearly as long as she''d been alive, despite many offers from her father to change them out.


    The music box alarm played on as she pulled the string, and like a doorway to heaven, the light spilled through to illuminate the interior of the bedroom.


    It was a magical moment for her, that first light, and she looked forward to it every morning.


    Ritual complete, she turned the alarm off, gave another stretch and yawn, and got to her feet. They took her over to the uniform hanging from her closet door, next to an already packed bag.


    That was right, today was the first day of high school. She was a freshman now! Well, she''d been a freshman before, of course. Twice, technically, but they didn''t use the term for grade schoolers. It was her first time being a freshman in high school, though! She couldn''t wait to see her new school and find out if there''d be any new friends to make!


    And, of course, seeing all of her existing friends, she reminded herself as she glanced to her phone, sitting on her nightstand next to her clock.


    Was it too early to text Nariko? She was up now, right?


    Maybe, but it was definitely too early. Besides, she''d be seeing her in an hour or so, anyway. They both had to get ready, after all, and it wouldn''t stand for her to make them late on the first day because they were talking.


    Or, more accurately, Reina wouldn''t stand for it. She suppressed the shiver that ran through her at how scary their leader could be if she let her down like that.


    She knew better than any of them how much Reina cared about them all, how she worried and fretted about them. Reina was like a big sister that tried to put way too much on her own shoulders.


    Even then, though, knowing that the upperclassman would never think of doing such a thing, answering to Tamashini after doing something she knew was wrong felt like going before the headsman. Like the regal young woman would order Haru strapped into stocks and bolted onto some medieval torture device until she recanted her sinful ways.


    It was the stare, she''d long decided. Reina didn''t show her feelings on her face very well. It gave her a cool, mature demeanor that people flocked toward, but it also made her emotional spectrum seem ... narrow. She looked like she was sizing you up for the chopper, but she was really just disappointed.


    That made it strange, though. Normally, with most people, Haru could ignore facial expressions and run entirely off of how they actually felt. She couldn''t do that with their team''s leader. It was as if, on some level, Reina actually felt that way, despite the fact that Haru definitively knew that she absolutely did not.


    Maybe Reina was simply that intense. She was the first Witch, after all. Maybe not first ever, but the first of their team. And her Darkness directly clashed with Haru''s own Light.


    It didn''t feel like the right answer, but it was close enough, and the blonde wasn''t particularly drawn to heavy thoughts. She waved it away by thinking of her other friends as she made her bed and set her uniform out on it.


    Ran was quiet, quiet as a mouse. Most people thought she was as timid as one, too, but the strange thing was how far from the truth that really was. Yes, the girl was skittish and reserved, and Haru did her best to respect that, and to listen when something really was bothering her.


    But Ran wasn''t afraid of people, no matter how it looked. In fact, she could be quite short with them when things moved inside her fields of expertise. That mousy veneer fell away and she became almost bossy.


    No, for some strange reason, what Ran was afraid of was hurting people. It had never made sense to the blonde because Ran was the gentlest, softest person she''d ever met. The girl literally wouldn''t hurt a fly. Even if she wasn''t afraid of causing harm, it just wasn''t in her nature to do it.


    The girl had raised a barrier between herself and everyone around her, but it wasn''t to protect herself from them. It was to protect them from her. Something must have happened to her at some point, some great trauma that twisted her psyche, but nothing had. She''d always been like this.


    The only ones to get through that barrier were the other Witches. Riko persistently tried to press through like it was a personal challenge, and Haru, herself, was able to just see what Ran needed. Reina gave the bespectacled girl the much-needed impression of someone she couldn''t possibly hurt even if she tried.


    And, somehow, Natsumi had blown through it before the rest of them even knew it was there.


    Like Reina, part of that was the fact that the fierce and fiery redhead didn''t give the impression of someone who could easily be hurt. A bigger part was that she just never gave Ran a choice in the matter. She saw someone who needed protecting, be it from the world or herself, and she was there for it, no matter the cost.


    That was Natsumi in a nutshell. All energy and drive, just looking for an outlet to channel it. She was a bear, yeah, but a lot of people didn''t realize that she was specifically a mama bear. All of that fire hid a warmth like a crackling hearth. She didn''t tolerate the strong abusing the weak or the vulnerable, and she''d fight to put a stop to it till her last breath.


    Of course, she was far from perfect. Her raw strength made her arrogant and she couldn''t stand not being the strongest. That the most powerful Witch was Reina and not her, even if it wasn''t about physical strength, grated on her often.


    Similarly, she butted heads with Riko nearly all of the time. Even though Riko wasn''t any kind of fighter like Natsumi was, Thunder Witch and Flame Witch were unquestionably the raw damage dealers of the team, which put them on a similar keel regardless.


    ... And, of course, Riko could never seem to resist rising to the challenge ...


    Ah, her Riko ... There was another complicated one. People tended to be put off by her because of her brash, forward nature. It was the American in her, a lot of people said. Well, not Haru. Haru understood it was just the nature of the storm.


    Riko was loud and struck with the speed and flash of a bolt of lightning from what everyone else saw as a clear, blue sky. She was on so quickly to the next strike that she was oblivious to the metaphorical devastation she left behind. So disconnected from it was she that, when people got upset, she''d grow indignant in response.


    And she was the only one with an ability similar to Haru''s own Empathy. Analysis didn''t let her see into people''s hearts like Haru could, but it fed her all of the little details that usually allowed her to notice things other people missed. One would think that this would allow her to notice the effect she had on other people, but the indignity overrode it.


    She cared, she really did, and she wanted to help others, but she just couldn''t slow down enough to explain it to other people. She''d give the shirt off of her back to someone in need, but it was a coin flip if she offended them in the process.


    Haru sighed as she finished brushing out her hair and tying her twintails off. She really did have her work cut out for her as the heart for the group of misfits, but she wouldn''t trade it for the world.


    *     *     *


    "Good morning, Mom! Good morning, Dad!"


    Haru was an only child, something she envied Riko''s crowded home for, but Masao and Hisako, her father and mother, were still downstairs waiting for her to come springing down the steps.


    "Good morning, Haru," her father greeted from in front of the stove where the popping sounds of frying were coming from. "Pull up a chair and get your mother to put away the paperwork. The eggs will be ready in just a couple minutes!"


    "Okay!" She made her way over and plopped into the seat next to her mother. She laid the side of her head against her mother''s upper arm.


    Both of her parents could have been models, in her completely unbiased opinion, and her father actually was, mostly for products like cologne and ties. Her mother, however, had decided there was far more money to be had in accounting, and far less stress about appearance. Unfortunately, this meant she had a habit of bringing some of her work home.


    Hisako Chiaki looked over from the spreadsheets she was sorting through and comparing to her laptop and down at her daughter, smiling as if waiting for mischief. "Your new uniform looks lovely on you, Haru."


    "Thanks, Mom," she replied, then, after a moment ... "Dad says the eggs are almost ready."


    The smile grew into a smirk as her mother looked across the kitchen. "Does he, now?"


    "He says you need to start putting away your paperwork."


    "Well, if your dad says so, it must be true," Hisako replied, then pecked her daughter on the forehead before beginning to shuffle the papers away.


    Sure enough, the papers hardly vanished before Masao came over balancing three plates of scrambled eggs with all of the fixings.


    It was an unorthodox breakfast. Haru knew that if Nariko was getting an egg for breakfast, her more traditional mother was going to be serving it over rice. Her father, though always insisted that eggs were full of nutrients for healthy skin and a healthy body, and the protein to keep you going until lunch. As a result, the breakfast was a staple of their house with milk, orange juice and a slice of toast for fiber.


    She''ll say this, she never left for school hungry.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "So," her father asked as he slid into his own seat, "besides the first day of high school, any special plans for today?"


    "Oh!" Haru turned toward him with a wide grin. "Tamashini said she already has the paperwork filed so we''ll have our own club room! We''ll probably be having our first meeting of the school year right there! I''ll bet it''ll have a television and a DVD player and lots of seating!"


    "Your own club?" her mother asked. "But what would it be about?"


    And her grin reached into the gigawatt range as she turned toward her mother to answer.


    "Magical girls, of course!"


    *     *     *


    As Haru turned onto the right street, she pulled out her phone again. She knew she hadn''t sent anything yet, but neither had Riko. Normally, she''d at least have sent a text message that she was ready by this point. Maybe she was running late? First day jitters? A problem with her uniform?


    She opened the gate on the privacy fence with the plate that read, "Kelly," and stepped into the yard like she''d done hundreds, no, thousands of times. This time, though, something felt wrong. Something was missing.


    Haru convinced herself it was just nerves and made her way to the door. She braced herself, put on her happy face, and rang the doorbell.


    Her first sign that something really was wrong was that it was Misaki that answered the door. The woman greeted her with a warm smile, but there was a spark of worry behind it. Haru could tell that the woman, too, realized there was something wrong.


    "Haru, good morning!"


    But protocol must be followed. She can''t just jump the gun and call out the concern, even if they both feel it. Instead, she forced herself to smile and stuck to the script expected of her.


    "Good morning, Mrs. Kelly. Is Nariko ready?"


    The worry spread, and this time, it made it to the woman''s face. ¡°She¡¯s already left, Haru. Nearly an hour ago, I think, said she was worried about finding her way. She didn¡¯t text you?¡±


    That was all wrong. None of it made any sense. She let herself frown, too. "Not a peep." There was only one off-chance that might explain the behavior. "Was she mad about something?"


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know,¡± Riko''s mother provided, shaking her head. ¡°She would have left without saying a word if Marcus hadn¡¯t spoken up about it. It wasn¡¯t like her.¡±


    A moment of thought passed across Misaki''s face, almost a hope for an explanation. ¡°She looked a bit pale, perhaps she¡¯s not feeling well?¡±


    Haru promised to check in on her when she got to school and to get her to the nurse''s office if Riko wasn''t well, but begged off soon afterwards, herself. She had to get to school, too, after all, especially if Nariko was already there.


    But she worried the whole way there over what could have been wrong with her Riko. Leaving so incredibly early, and without a single message, none of it was like her. It made no sense.


    She sent several texts on the way to the school, but none of them got a response and she couldn''t tell if any of them were even getting read.


    *     *     *


    Haru was disappointed when she got to the homeroom assignments and discovered that she wouldn''t be sharing a classroom with Riko, either. Fate and entry exam scores had cut the team in half, and did so by splitting their favorite pairings.


    Nariko and Ran were with the better scorers in Class 1-A, while Haru and Natsumi were ... honestly probably toward the bottom of Class 1-B. Haru didn''t consider herself stupid, exactly, but ... well, how could she be expected to compete with people who literally have brain superpowers?


    Granted, that excuse didn''t work for every other score between her and Riko, but come on! Her intelligence was just more emotional in nature! That was a thing, right?!


    Still, she had no luck finding Riko, and didn''t lay eyes on her until the morning assembly.


    The assembly was a standard thing, welcoming students to a new school year, and welcoming new students to the school in general. Everyone was bored out of their minds, even the teachers. Oh, they put on stalwart masks, but it wasn''t enough to fool her!


    She wasn''t surprised to see Riko was just as bored as everyone else, though obviously there was no means to talk with her. They weren''t even in the same row, let alone the same column. Still, it was a relief to see the girl after the absence all morning.


    She was worried Riko was sick or angry, but she seemed normal. Everything about her boredom was exactly as it should be for Riko. She was even barely listening at all. In fact, Nariko was far more interested in ... her feet? Yes, something about her feet was making Riko happy, if only a little bit.


    Haru wouldn''t see her again until P.E., but because they were in different classes, it was again a distance viewing. Riko''s class was playing basketball, while hers was doing track.


    Dumbest sport in the world, running around in circles ... She''d like to Shining Lance whoever thought it''d be worth putting in the curriculum. She couldn''t wait for the rotation to switch ... or for it to be over so she could get a shower.


    Riko seemed to be having fun on the court, but there was something off with her behavior again.


    Normally, in a competitive sport, she''d be hogging the spotlight. Oh, her team would win, but Analysis - and the body of a Witch - meant that she could do all of the plays by herself. No matter how her fellow students tried to stop her, she would always find that one open path.


    It was as infuriating for her peers as it was ego-inflating for her.


    But no, that wasn''t what Riko did now. She ... was a team player. A bit of a commander, maybe, but she had no fear of letting go of the ball, of letting someone else make the shot. She cared more about who was in the optimum position than she did about getting there, herself.


    Haru had to admit that it was a positive change in behavior, but something about it still struck her as wrong. Riko had never talked about taking on a more team-oriented approach to the class. If anything, she fully intended, and was looking forward, to continuing just the way she''d been.


    Maybe a teacher had said something to her? Haru was looking forward to asking her about it at lunch. There, at least, they would finally have time to sit down together and she could get a proper read on her friend.


    Except Riko didn''t show.


    As a precaution and with a bad feeling in her stomach, Haru had even gone to 1-A to get the girl, but Ran, who had a lovely bento box as always, informed her that Riko had already left.


    Weirder, she hadn''t seemed to have brought a lunch from home. Misaki always made sure her children had a lunch packed.


    Haru spent the lunch break nibbling on her own food while searching everywhere she thought Riko might have gone. In the process, she managed to find both Reina and Natsumi, but both denied having seen anything of Riko all day, let alone for lunch.


    But the high school was a big place, and this was the first time they got to explore it. It was entirely possible Riko had been looking for her, and they''d missed each other the whole time.


    Being assigned homework on the first day was salt on the wound, but not one of the growing line of teachers to hand it out had any sympathy for the class''s cries for mercy.


    By the time Haru pulled herself into the new club room, she felt exhausted by it all, and slumped into the nearest open chair.


    Ran and Reina were already there, while Natsumi came in with Haru. When the blonde flopped into a seat, though, the redhead turned toward her in concern.


    "Hey, you okay, Chiaki?" Homura asked, sitting down across from her. "You hardly said anything all the way here, and now you''re all wilty."


    "I haven''t heard anything from Riko all day ..." she complained, laying her cheek atop the white plastic of the table. "She''s not returning my messages, I haven''t been able to figure out where she goes, if I didn''t see her with my own eyes at the assembly and in P.E., I''d be calling the police."


    "Well, hopefully, you''d call me before you''d call the police," a white cat sitting in the middle of the table said. It had two tails and a pair of feathered wings, but sat just like a normal cat. It gave a lick of its paw. "Of course, normally, that wouldn''t be the right thing to do for a disappearance, but with you girls, some extra steps should be expected."


    Natsumi frowned at that. "Where does your phone even go when you''re in that form?"


    The cat seemed to smile and gave a wink at the question. "Trade secret."


    Haru turned her attention to Ran. "She didn''t come with you?"


    The bespectacled girl jerked a bit at being addressed, having already been focusing on her homework instead of the conversation, but adjusted her glasses and then shook her head.


    "No, sorry, Haru. We left the classroom at the same time, but she broke off to use the bathroom."


    "Well, there you have it, Miss Chiaki," the cat advised her. "She just went to the bathroom. I''m sure she''ll be along shortly. Why don''t you go ahead and get a head start on your homework in the meantime?"


    The girl groaned. "Miss Sada, you''re the only one who didn''t give us any! There''s so much of it!"


    The white cat chuckled. "I''m sure I could come up with a couple-paragraph essay or something if you''re feeling left out."


    "Ah, no! I''m good! I''m getting started right away!"


    *     *     *


    With everyone''s help, the homework wasn''t nearly as intimidating as Haru had expected, but she''d been slowed down by the constant worry over the fact that Riko still hadn''t shown up. The others assured her that maybe the brunette really wasn''t feeling well and probably went on home.


    Natsumi suggested Riko had forgotten the whole thing, and boy was she going to feel stupid when they reminded her of it tomorrow.


    But when her phone rang, that worry turned into an icy ball in the pit of her stomach. After all, the caller was Nariko''s house, or, as her phone displayed it, Kelly Home. Riko would only have called from her own phone normally, which meant this was probably her parents. And if they were calling her, then ...


    "Mrs. Kelly?" she guessed when she picked up.


    "Haru, thank goodness. Is Riko with you?"


    Her Empathy didn''t work over a phone connection, but she didn''t need it to read the panic coming off of Riko''s mother. She looked around the room at the rest, who clearly picked up on the blonde''s tension.


    "... No, we thought she went on home."


    "Did she just leave?"


    "No, we assumed she went right home after school. We were going to meet up, but she never showed."


    "We?"


    "Yeah, I''m here with Wakumi, Homura and Tamashini. We got a new club room, and we were all supposed to get together to break it in."


    "Homura is there with you?" Misaki asked. "Oh, I was going to call her to ask about the fountain shop."


    When Haru relayed that to the redhead, Natsumi answered back, "Call my dad. I can''t imagine Kelly would go hang out there on her own, but he won''t mind telling you if he''s seen her."


    Haru relayed that, too, and Misaki continued. "Oh, thank you, I''ll do that. If that doesn''t work, I don''t know, I guess I''ll try her phone again ..."


    "Do that," Haru agreed. "We''ll keep our ears open and let you know the moment we hear anything."


    A few more pleasantries and reassurances were exchanged before Haru hung up, and then the room hung in a cold silence.


    "So Miss Kelly didn''t go home, either," Miss Sada was the first to break the quiet. "And after behaving strangely all day."


    Haru stood up sharply and slammed her book shut. "I''m going looking for her! The demons could be up to something!"


    The cat nodded. "Stay in contact. If you find anything, call me."


    *     *     *


    The next hour was spent scouring every variation of every path Haru could think of that Riko might have taken home. Her eyes were peeled for any sign of her best friend, but she was about to give up. Her feet were getting sore and there were some routes she''d been over several times.


    And then the air pressure changed as the road went silent.


    "A seal?" She looked around quickly, but the area around her was still and empty. Had she just walked into one? Could that mean that the reason she couldn''t find Riko was ...


    Her ears alerted her to shouts and crashing noises that sounded like fighting, and she sprinted after it. It was only a block before she caught sight of a large, black figure swinging about in an intersection.


    "Da-kun!" She went to reach for her phone almost automatically to do as Sarasa had instructed, but scolded herself. She was inside a seal now, there wouldn''t be any signal. She''d been sending regular updates via text, but the only way she was getting backup was if they noticed that had stopped.


    "That means it''s up to me, then." She set her jaw in determination. After all, there was only one person he could be attacking, even if she was still out of view.


    Light flickered at the end of her fingertips. "Hold on, Riko ... I''m coming for you!"


    And she threw a glimmering card up into the air.


    "TRANSFORM!"

 Chapter EX 2 - Friends in Low Places

    (EX2)


    Friends in Low Places


    Normally, when a demon died, its essence would float through the void for a time that depended on how powerful it was. The stronger the demon, the more time it took for all of that power to pull itself back together. Even a lesser demon could still take decades, however.


    It was the great counterbalance in the eternal conflict between the realms, and why the demons couldn''t just send an endless cascade of soldiers into the mortal world. Demons may be technically immortal, but once you were out of the fight, you might as well have been out of it for good.


    The one exception, of course, was if a stronger demon assisted the coagulation of the deceased spirit. This required both demons to be close, to know one another well, and for the more powerful demon to sacrifice his own mana to accelerate the recovery of the other.


    Needless to say, this was not an event that happened often. But it happened today.


    Out of all of the demons in the realm, it was Crown Prince Eirwen who was performing the ceremony. Any who knew of such a gesture occurring would surely assume that the one being returned was a valued servant or loyal pawn, or perhaps had given his life in pursuit of a grand mission to earn such a privilege.


    ... Well, they wouldn''t be wrong. The demon did give his life for the cause, and it was a cause Wren valued greatly. But he wouldn''t call this demon a servant or a pawn. He thought of the one he was bringing back as perhaps a friend, or even better, a comrade in arms.


    He sketched out the arcane paths with calcium chalk, to represent the bones of the departed. He lit six candles, placed in the corners, and meditated on his target while the wax ran into the diagram, representing the blood. He placed items of importance to the departed into the formation, placed perfectly evenly around the outer ring.


    And finally, with the preparations complete, he added the final component of life - spirit - in the form of his own mana. He placed his hands to the runes and focused his great magical energies as the prince of all demons, and the diagram illuminated in brilliant blue light.


    "Gregory," he raised his voice as he concentrated on regulating his mana outflow. "Your prince calls for you! By right and ritual, I command the flow of the river of souls. Bend to my will and alter the appointed time!"


    A wind entered the chamber and he shouted louder to overcome its bellows. "Gregory! Follow my spirit and take it in as your own! Follow my will and build upon it your body anew! Come before me now! Return! Gregory!"


    The energy raging in the runes was torn away from them, pulled up into the air where the winds collided into whorling eddies. The power crashed together in an explosion of light, and a frumpled mess fell from the growing darkness into the middle of the diagram.


    A moment later, the seeming pile of rags stirred. "Master, your quickness to revive me holds me in your debt." The high-pitched voice came from a bleached-white skull that was revealed as the reaper levitated up into the air.


    Wren held up a hand. "It''s just us here, Gregory. No need for such formalities. Welcome back, and good work."


    "Ahhhh, that''s right," he cackled. "I fought the Witches! I really had them on the ropes for a bit, didn''t I?"


    The prince gave an embarrassed smile at that. "You ran from a staring contest with Sacred Witch."


    "Oh, but she''s so scary," the specter crooned. "So cool, so sophisticated, but when she''s mad at you, it''s so scary!"


    Gregory shot forward to the prince''s side, still gushing. "And that kick from Thunder Witch! I didn''t even know she could channel magic like that! I nearly flatlined when I felt it! If she''d been transformed, I''d have lost my skull right there!"


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    But instead of being put off by the closeness of a commoner, Eirwen grinned right back. "Right?! Her new outfit isn''t just for show, either! Even in the darkness, the way she came over that table at you! You''re lucky she couldn''t see your scythe in the way!"


    The specter gripped the sides of his skull. "And then she nearly fried the flesh off of my face!"


    "You don''t have any flesh on your face, Greg."


    "Oh no! She got it all?!"


    "Har har." Wren pulled his phone out and motioned the lesser demon over. "Come on, check out the shots I got! These are from the fight! I even managed to get a shot of Flame Witch crying!"


    Gregory was hovering over his shoulder. "That was hard to keep up the act through. It was a real rush, getting that much fear energy, but crying? I''ve never felt that bad before! Hey, even for demons, there''s rules against making girls cry, right, master?"


    "If there is, I don''t think any of us would ever admit to it," the prince countered. "But I understand your hardship. It''s like seeing a fine porcelain vase break."


    "Right?! Right?!" the specter agreed. "A vase of strength shattered into a pile of sobbing rubble!"


    "Well, maybe this''ll help raise your spirits." Eirwen flipped to another picture. "My spirit cameras caught the scenes from inside of your illusions, too!"


    "Oh, we can''t use those," Gregory insisted. "All of them survived! Everyone would know they''re fake!"


    "That doesn''t mean they can''t be in our private collections." He changed the set of pictures again. "And, of course, I''m sending you copies of everything from the camp-out, itself. Shield Witch on the stairs, Thunder Witch starting a fire, and check this one!"


    "Ah! She''s got her head in the oven! Is that Flame Witch?!"


    "Oh, good eyes! How could you tell?"


    "It''s the thighs. All of the kicks she throws makes them heaven-sent!"


    "Hey, doesn''t that mean you should hate them?!"


    They went back and forth over all of the snapshots Wren''s spirit cameras managed to take and picked out the best for each of their collections. Little surprise Gregory made sure to get a copy of the oven one. A bit more surprising that he also grabbed a copy of Flame Witch crying.


    Well, if you didn''t know Gregory was a big softy. He was probably going to hang it somewhere and swear to it every day, or something.


    "Oh man, what great additions," he cackled as they finished. "This was a great idea, Wren! Too bad it''s a one-off. They''d get wise if we pulled the same thing again."


    "Yeah, and they already know your gimmick," the prince agreed. "You''d never get so much as an attack off against them now, even against Flame Witch."


    The specter slumped dramatically. "The woes of a lesser demon ... I don''t stand a chance against such splendor without a bag of tricks, and I''ve already burned through them."


    Eirwen reached over and slapped Gregory''s bony shoulder. "Chin up, pal! I''m on something that''ll get us more pictures than anyone else in the club could even hope for!"


    "Eh? Really? What is it?!"


    The prince grinned with a wink, holding a thumb up. "I''m going to be a photographer for their school newspaper!"


    There was a long moment of silence as Gregory''s jawbone dropped and hung there, suspended by the joint. Then, finally, he admitted, "I don''t get it."


    The blue-skinned demon sighed in annoyance at having to explain it. "What''s not to get? Thunder Witch joined the airsoft club. That means that sixty percent of the Witches are now going to be in sports clubs! And since no mortal shutterbug is going to be able to compete with my spirit cameras, I''ll get all of the best angles and shots automatically!"


    He leaned forward for emphasis. "And I''ll have the perfect excuse to get all of the greatest shots of the Witches, themselves! Even the ones that are only just watching!"


    "Oh!" As the lesser demon caught on, he nodded ever more vigorously. "I see, I see! That''ll be amazing! Please, let me know if you ever need a second cameraman! Maybe I can''t fight them again, but I can operate undetected even from them!"


    "Of course," Wren immediately agreed. "You''ll be my first pick!"


    But after a moment, Gregory turned away with a bone-rattling sigh. "I don''t know how you can get away with all of this. As the crown prince, you''d think you''d have a harder time moving than any of us!"


    "It''s because I''m still doing my job," the prince explained. "Gathering intel, keeping an eye on them, launching the occasional attack. So long as you do that, you can do pretty much whatever else you want and nobody cares. The first rule of demonkind and all."


    Gregory gave a manic giggle. "Do what you desire! Just be ready to pay the consequences!"


    He tossed a salute at the answer with a smirk, but then got a troubled look as his own thoughts went back to the topic at hand. "I just wish my little sister could understand. She''s at that age where all she sees are enemies, and all she thinks about is pleasing mother and father."


    The specter hovered uncomfortably at that. "Ah, Master, you put me in an awkward position. You know to speak ill of any member of the royal family could mean my banishment."


    "Oh, right, sorry, Greg," he apologized, then shook his head with his arms crossed. "It''s just so frustrating. You know, I tried to get her to participate in the festival play as a Witch. She would have been adorable, but she refused outright."


    Gregory dropped into his deep voice. "Why would I want to be the enemy of my people?"


    And Eirwen clapped his hands together before pointing to the specter. "Exactly!" But he shook his head again and threw an arm over his friend''s shoulder. "Nothing doing, though. Come, let''s get these printed so we can start placing them in our collections!"