Mind Yuma
After thinking it over, Yuki eventually nods to Kyoko.
"Very well. Is there anything I should know about her?"
Yuma already began pouting on Kyoko's other side, arms crossed and eyes diverted. The redhead seems entirely unaffected by her petulant display, though; she just gives Yuki a soft headshake.
"Nah. Yuma's a good girl, don't worry about it. Just," she starts, then sighs and mutters under her breath, barely audible to the two right next to her: "I hope I'm not gonna regret this."
She may not have meant to say that out loud. Yuki decides not to comment. Rather, she gets up and steps around the seated girls to stand in front of Yuma. Who is still not looking at anyone. She does not react when Yuki offers her hand.
"You can come willingly, or I will carry you."
If anything, Yuma crosses her arms harder. Kyoko makes an exasperated noise and starts to say something, only to stop herself when Yuki does as she just threatened. Yuma squeaks in surprise about being swept into a princess carry, holding onto Yuki's neck out of sheer surprise.
"Hey! Lemme down! No!"
"Yes."
The child tries to thrash, but her position makes it wasted effort. Yuki pays no mind to the attempts of batting at her face and pulling her hair. She just offers Kyoko a nod.
"I will bring her back in the afternoon. Until then."
"Alright. Uh, bye?"
"Big sis, help!"
"Do not resist," Yuki cuts them off. She begins walking for the door, uncaring for the soft keening noise Yuma produces. Her suit morphs back into the office lady camouflage as she goes.
Kyoko watches the whole thing with an unreadable expression. Amusement and worry mix together, forming indecision. "Just be good for me," she asks Yuma gently. "Can you do that?"
The fight slowly leaves the younger girl. By the time Yuki kicks the front door closed with the back of her foot, she has calmed down entirely.
"Lemme down," she finally mutters. Those green eyes still burn with defiance when Yuki meets her gaze.
"Will you behave?"
"Yes," Yuma lies.
Yuki sets her down anyway. If nothing else, Yuma does not run away. She faces Yuki despite being notably shorter and clearly weaker. When Yuki offers her hand again, she takes it grudgingly; and yet, the moment those dainty fingers clasp around Yuki's, she squeezes tight.
"We have not properly introduced ourselves yet," Yuki says as they start walking. "I am Yuki."
"I'm Yuma," the girl returns stiffly, but says no more.
The silence stretches for several minutes; Yuki does not mind it at all, her gaze flicking along the still deserted back alleys. This entire area seems fairly dilapidated, the church only being the centerpiece of desolation.
Yuma grows increasingly fidgety, though. At first she tries to stay indignant and look away. She tests Yuki's grasp on her hand, only to find that she can not make the magical girl budge an inch. But with no actual reaction forthcoming, Yuma's feelings slowly simmer down. Curiousity takes their place, an owlish look running up and down Yuki's form.
"Why are your eyes bound?" she eventually asks.
"Because I like my blindfold," Yuki answers, suppressing a sigh. It seems to be the first question everyone asks.
Perhaps it is the fact she answered so readily, but this opens the floodgates.
"Why did big sis say you're a Witch? You look normal."
"Looks can be deceiving. I am neither a Witch, nor human."
"But then what are you?"
"An Abnormality."
"What's that?"
"An entity that can not die permanently, that diverges from conventional appearances and biology, and that possesses various types of abilities. I am part of the small category of Abnormalities that can pass for human."
"Are there more like you?"
"Yes."
Listening to the endless stream of questions and follow-ups annoys Yuki the faintest bit. She can not bring herself to be angry with Yuma, though; curiousity is natural, not to mention better than hostility. She doubts it will be that easy to do away with her bad first impression, though.
For her part, Yuma seems satisfied to get answers to all her questions. She crowds a little closer to Yuki with an eager look.
"What are the others like? Are they all magical girls, too?"
"I had three seniors for a time, though I do not know what became of them. Most Abnormalities are quite different, though."
"Like what?"
"...like a blue caterpillar that constantly smokes from a pipe."
"Oh. That sounds weird."
Yuma falls silent with that last comment, apparently thinking over what she just heard. Yuki takes notice of the appearance of pedestrians now, although they are still low in number. It is noon on a school day, after all.
Curiously enough, the two truancy officers they pass do not even bat an eye at their presence. Yuki almost questions why that is, but decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Yuma does not even notice them.
"Doesn't it feel weird?" Yuma then asks. "Calling yourself weird, I mean. Or one of those Abnormality things. You look like a human, I mean."
She has a point, even if clumsily made. Acknowledging one's own existence as an ethereal type of entity should be problematic to the perception of self. Yuki does not mind, though.
"Being an Abnormality is all I have ever known. Why would it bother me to know what I am, and how I differ from others? Does being human bother you?"
"No... but that's different."
"Different how?"
"Uhm, uh... it just is!"
Yuki's lips quirk up the faintest bit in response. Despite her youth, Yuma seems to have some strong opinions already. She does not respond to the baseless claim, though; it ultimately does not matter what anyone but her thinks of the matter.
Alas, Yuma herself is not kept busy for much longer than Yuki. So the next question comes inevitably. This time they are back in familiar territory.
"Can I see your eyes?"
Yuki wordlessly strips off the blindfold with her free hand and looks down. Without the attempt to intimidate with her aura however, Yuma lets out an awed noise. She stops walking to stare straight into her crimson sclerae, gaze flickering to the splotches of red dotting Yuki's eyeballs.
This is certainly the first time she got that reaction since her arrival. Then again, she only lowered her blindfold a handful of times.
After she had her fill of charting Yuki's eyes, Yuma curiously points at the band of cloth in her hands. "How can you see through that? Can I try it on?"
"Magic," Yuki deadpans. Then she ushers Yuma to a small playground they just passed before offering her the blindfold. "And here. But only for a minute."
The moment the cloth passes into Yuma's hands, her skin begins to glisten. Yuma looks down at herself in wonder, then up at Yuki. Then she quickly ties the blindfold and peers around with awed noises.
"Wow! It's like I'm wearing nothing at all!" she cheers, head swivelling this way and that. After a minute, she looks down at her hands again. A few flecks of faint green can be seen along their backs.
"But what's this?"
Yuki rubs her fingertip over one of the discoloured spots. It still feels like skin and has the same warmth. "E.G.O Corrosion," she explains. "This blindfold is a part of me. Your body and mind are not strong enough to handle it for long."
Yuma stares for a moment, then quickly reaches up to untie the cloth. Yuki receives it back with faint amusement.
"A short amount of exposure has no adverse effects," she assures the girl while tying it back into place. "This blindfold is only a small part of my E.G.O, too. You could likely wear it for a few hours without trouble. My mallet or suit would be a different matter, though."
A thoughtful noise escapes Yuma. She makes to ask another question, but then her gaze slides over Yuki's shoulder and she falls quiet. The sound of footsteps can be heard now.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Chitose?" a rich voice calls.
Yuki turns to see who speaks, only to find herself confronted with a half-dozen men in fine suits. They fanned out somewhat, with two of them flanking the speaker. All of them wear calm but cold expressions, much like they do their jackets.
"Mrs. Chitose," the man repeats, trying for friendly, "we've been looking for you."
He does not quite succeed, though Yuki does not feel intimidated. "You have the wrong person," she says instead.
He smiles, though there is no humour in it. "No, I believe we have the right person."
A nod is given toward Yuki, or rather to Yuma, who clasps the sleeve of her jacket in that moment. Yuki is confused now, even more so when the speaker steps closer and grasps her shoulder.
"There is someone who wishes to speak with you. Come along, let's not make a scene."
Yuki blinks owlishly and lets herself be led. The hand on her shoulder is firm, but not trying to hurt. All the other suits form up around them, forming an escort that almost hides them from view. And the few pedestrians who see them quickly look away.
Yuma and Yuki are made to climb into the backseat of a big, black car. That same man who talked to her earlier takes the remaining spot, which quickly has Yuma climb over Yuki to sit at the window instead. One more suit sits next to the driver.
The ten-minute drive across Kazamino passes in silence. Tense for some, still confusing for Yuki. They leave the more run-down areas in favour of downtown, where the car eventually stops in front of a walled-off building. Easily large enough to hold a major business and surrounded by a well-tended yard. People in suits go in and out here.
If anything, Yuma crowds even closer against Yuki as they are led inside. The men standing guard simply exchange nods with their escorts, eyes hidden by sunglasses.
"Those are the bad men!" Yuma hisses into her ear now, inaudible to anyone else. "We gotta run!"
"You should have said that earlier," Yuki murmurs back. The only way they can escape now is through liberal application of violence. Without a clear picture of why these people are 'bad', she will not go there.
But considering Yuma's state, she must have some reason to think of them that way. Yuki grasps her hand and squeezes firmly.
"Do not worry. I will keep you safe."
Her assurance helps the girl relax, but she remains somewhat tense as they are led inside. Yuki has yet to see any proof of these people being bad, but she is not the native.
"Got them here, boss," the man thus far in charge announces before guiding the pair into a well-lit office. Paintings line the walls and decorative plants sit in the corners left and right of its occupant's desk.
The man is middle-aged and does not look up yet.
"Ah, Mrs. Chitose. It has been a while since our last conversation, I hope you hadn't forgotten. Please, have a seat."
He absently motions for the leather couch sitting in the room's center. With nothing else to do, Yuki settles down as she was asked; Yuma does the same, not quite fearful but still wary. The suits take position at the walls.
While Yuki fits in somewhat, Yuma stands out. Her dress bears some wear and tear, not to mention stains of dirt. Her hair is subtly frazzled, combed back into a semblance of order by deft fingers. But even then, even when the girl is clearly out of her depth, she holds herself well.
"Now," the man at the desk says, still writing on something, "I believe you know why I called you here."
"No."
The pen stops. Several people at her periphery bristle.
When the older man at his desk finally looks up, the words die in his throat. He stares owlishly at Yuki, then stands to step closer. His gaze wanders to Yuma for a moment, then back to Yuki. Then he looks to the suit who brought them.
"Takahashi."
"Yes, boss?"
"This is
not Mrs. Chitose."
"Eh?"
Takahashi seems completely dumbfounded by the news. He gapes at Yuki, then points to Yuma in confusion. "B-But the girl-"
"Yes, that is the one I told you to look for," the boss agrees with a soft sigh. Then he turns to Yuki and offers a polite bow. "Please forgive my subordinate for his mistake, miss. I asked them to find little Yuma and her mother. You being with her must have given them the wrong idea, given how alike the two of you look."
"I see," Yuki says, now exasperated. She should have seen this coming. Then she looks at Yuma instead. "Do you know where your mother is?"
"Dead," Yuma says. There is not so much as a twitch in her expression, even as the words send a ripple through the people around them.
"Is that so?" the man in front of them asks. Upon seeing Yuma nod, he frowns. "How unfortunate. My condolences, little Yuma."
"But where are my manners," he continues, turning back to Yuki. "My name is Shinichiro Kurosawa. I am the patriarch of this family. May I offer some refreshments?"
Even as he makes the offer, someone quickly wheels in a cart with various drinks. Water, sodas, a teapot, even alcohol. Yuki nods and, after offering her own name, takes from the tea; it reminds her of Oriko, which is strangely calming. If there is something dangerous here, then the seer should be moving to prevent a possible catastrophe. Or she might have moved already, if that were the case.
After Yuma shily grabbed a fruit soda, Kurosawa sits down opposite of the pair. He puts a cigarette to his mouth, but hesitates with a look at Yuma. Then he waves off another underling already rushing in with a lighter, and puts the cigarette back.
"Now, do you know about the agreement your mother had with me, Yuma?"
She nods wordlessly, expression halfway hidden behind her drink.
"You gave her money. And if she doesn't pay it back, you get me."
Yuki's eye twitches. A shadow runs down her face like water. "Please elaborate," she demands of Kurosawa, who keeps himself under admirable control.
"Of course. May I ask what your relationship with Yuma is, miss Yuki? An aunt, perhaps?"
"We are not related. I am minding her for the moment."
He nods in understanding. "I see. Well, as you heard, Mrs. Chitose borrowed a significant amount of money from us. We asked for her daughter as collateral to ensure she will pay it back. Although she was making excuses and asking for more time even before her apparent demise."
Yuki's eyes remain narrowed, muscles tensing up slowly. She is not ready for violence yet, but the option is taken into account.
"And if you take Yuma as collateral, what will happen to her?"
"Ah, who can know?"
Though he seems nonchalant, Yuma shrinks a little further into Yuki's side. Yuki herself considers the situation carefully; this is, strictly speaking, not her problem. A debt falling onto the next of kin is fairly normal, with utopia being when none has a need to carry such debts. At the same time however, Yuma is too young to carry such a debt or suffer for someone else taking it. Likewise, Kyoko asked Yuki to look after her.
"How much did she owe?"
Kurosawa finishes sipping his own tea before answering. With the cup up, Yuki spots that his right hand's pinky finger lacks two joints. It runs out in a stump right over the knuckle, a visibly old wound.
"Five million yen," he finally says. "That is without interest. Are you meaning to pay us back in Mrs. Chitose's stead?"
Thinking of the handful of coins in her pocket, Yuki knows she does not have that sort of money. But she knows several people who could help her get it. Oriko is first to come to mind, but Junko might be able to help as well.
"No."
Yuki blinks, then looks down at Yuma. Kurosawa does much the same.
Yuma herself slowly pushes herself away from Yuki, a determined frown on her face. "It's my mom's debt, so I will do it. Somehow. I will."
It sounds more like she is assuring herself of it, rather than anyone else. There is a faint, surprised noise from one of the suits, but Yuki can not tell which one. Kurosawa himself arches a brow at Yuma, though.
"You're quite the responsible young lady," he compliments without much warmth to his tone. He is all business. "But getting that much money together at your age is difficult at best. We won't wait until you're old enough to work, Yuma."
"You just implied there is a way," Yuki notes.
"There is one I can think of. A certain sort of people who will pay great amounts of money for something Yuma can offer. But out of respect for your desire to take responsibility, Yuma, I will tell you not to look for it. It won't make you happy. If anything, it will only make things worse for you personally."
There is a weight to his words, more an order than a piece of advice. Yuma clearly does not understand what he means.
Still, there are ways. Yuki knows at least some. But Yuma does not seem deterred; in fact, a fire slowly lights up her eyes.
"Why do you want to pay it off yourself?" Yuki asks her, curious what caused the sudden shift.
When Yuma looks back, that earlier willfullness is back.
"I want to be free, more than I used to be," she answers. "I wanna pay back the money to say goodbye, and to look at what's ahead instead. I can do it."
Her voice is filled with determination. She does not back down, regardless of the incredulous looks coming from the suits in the room. Kurosawa's curiousity is equally useless in deterring her.
This is problematic. If it were some misguided sense of responsibility alone, then Yuki would just overrule her. But if Yuma needs this, Yuki has to consider the ups and downs.
Then again, there is also another solution. Sizing up Kurosawa and his men again, Yuki knows that she can kill the lot. But they are not overtly threatening or dangerous, so she has no real reason to do so; Yuma's wellbeing is not worth the deaths of dozens.
"Do you have a plan?" Yuki asks finally.
Much to her and Kurosawa's surprise, Yuma nods.
"I do."
Decisions, decisions....
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzlHPlq8hIs
[] Let Yuma do it
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[] Do it yourself
-[] (optional) write-in how
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[] write-in another approach
We have a six-hour Moratorium. Please do not vote for six hours
-Revealed Yuma's hidden trait:
The Fearlessness To Keep On Living
Throughout years of abuse, Yuma yet remains. She refuses to lie down and die. Despite her young age, her force of will is considerable.
