bad barbecue

A few hours before the meeting with Matsuda and her goon squad, I was dealing with the biggest pain in the ass I’d run into since I got back into Mitakihara. Shiraki had called me at fuck you in the morning – hadn’t even gone to bed yet – about a crisis that apparently only I could deal with. According to one of the Prognosticators that came with me from the main branch, we’d been attacked during a black mass. A firebombing in Kazamino, apparently, one that nobody walked out of. Powerful shit, something that’d turn anyone else she could think of into a smear.

After the third time she called, I reluctantly agreed to look into it. That’s why I was standing outside a police line at fuck-off in the morning, staring down the last embers of what used to be a church. Cops. The fire department. Actual mundy officials cracking down on stuff. Wasn’t something we had to deal with much, back home; the cops were there, but not usually until things were definitely all clear.

I wasn’t used to worrying about it, though it was probably inevitable; any puella of any importance has a card they can flash that tells the normals ‘this is sparkle business, fuck off’, and I’d lost my privileges when I died. Or when Annie dragged me into her cult.

…Maybe it’d still work, but I didn’t especially want to risk trying. Even more because I wasn’t totally sure where I stood with the real Officios around here – Miss Tomoe had a way of keeping you guessing, if she wanted to, and the Tenth would have sold my ass out in a second just to jerk off to the sheer misery it’d cause me and the Eighth. No, instead I was rubbernecking, wondering if it was worth it to be here at all.

…Could have snuck in, but they had personnel inside already, and it was a pain holding onto my ghost effect without falling through the ground or something, and I already knew what I’d find. Maybe some lucky girls would just be bacon with lightly scorched soul gems, but I had a feeling nobody there got that lucky.

I was about ready to suck it up and head inside anyway when I heard a passing motorcycle slow, then wheel into the lot. …A Hayabusa. Flawless black with golden highlights, polished to a mirror sheen.  Its rider was a curvy woman in pure ebony, and a playful yellow helmet. …It was the first and last person I wanted to see, depending on a lot of things.

“Wendy-san!” Miss Tomoe cooed at me as she slid her helmet off, shaking her curled locks out. “I was hoping you might still be here.”

…I didn’t know how much she was involved with the Church, but I figured Kazamino was probably in Ninth territory, too, approximately. Should have guessed it’d be her. I wondered distantly if Matsuda’d show up, too. If she did, I was gone.

…Man, that bike suit had to take like twenty minutes to put on, the way it stuck to her.

“…Wendy-san?” She frowned in her gentle, pouty way. Not the frown you had to look out for. …Well, it was definitely dangerous, but in a different kind of way.

“…Zoned out for a second.” I cleared my throat to try and make my voice something other than a croak.

“I see that.” Her lips tilted into a wry smile. “I know it’s late, but do try not to forget where my face is. I’m sure we’d both be sad if I lost it.”

“…Yeah.” It was hard not to grin. She made me relax a little just by being there. Well, by being there and not half a second from putting me in the ground. …Not that I’d have minded that either, exactly. …It’s complicated.

She turned smoothly, gracefully, and strode toward the officer in charge. She didn’t need to tell me to follow, or maybe she didn’t care. I did anyway – we both needed to see the same thing, and…well. …This was easier. In a lot of ways. It was a matter of a smile and a flash of ID to get her in, and the cops waved me through along with her.

We bumped shoulders with the search team on the way in – they were pulled out when Mami played the sparkly card. All the better; it’d just be forcing us to work around them while we tried to figure out just what the flying fuck happened. Which…as far as I could tell, was all hell.

The place was…well, wet now, but still smoldering. Burnt all to fuck, nothing but charcoal and debris. Firebomb wasn’t the right word for it, a firebomb wasn’t this…intense, and it wouldn’t have…well. It wouldn’t have left a bunch of charred corpses in the pews. It was probably beyond surreal and just as horrifying for those poor rescue motherfuckers in here.

At a glance, most of them probably didn’t realize what had even happened. Just about all of the corpses were still sitting down, some of them were holding hands. Some still had empty soul gem frames pinned or clipped on in places, some had the remains of rings on their fingers. The floor was littered with broken fragments, and they crunched under our boots.

…It wasn’t a sound you’d think about much as a human, but after a while as a puella maga, it only took a broken window or something to hit you in a deep, visceral place. Even Miss Tomoe looked uncomfortable as we eased our way through the chapel.

The big exception seemed to be the preacher. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who aside from Shiraki spoke at these things. Probably somebody in the crowd from…the other day, nobody I’d even recognize offhand. …And I couldn’t recognize her now, poor fucker. She was more ripped apart than anything, scattered around in chunks and grilled.

…Shit. This was making me a little hungry. Should have eaten a bigger dinner or…something. Maybe I could take Miss Tomoe out to a pancake place. I wondered for a second if they had those little diners, like truck stops. I hadn’t seen one in Japan, but I figured they probably had trucks here, too, so there had to be like, truck stops. But it was a smaller country…

“Wendy-san? There seems to be a security camera set up.” …In a chapel? Something about that struck me as odd, but it wasn’t like I’d been to any churches since I was, like, five. “I’m going to see if I can salvage anything, if you wouldn’t mind looking around a bit more…?”

“…Sure.” No reason not to, and even if there were, she hadn’t asked thinking for even a second that I’d say no. …She still gave me that same cool smile with just a hint of sweetness at the edges, despite that. I don’t think I thought for a second I’d say no to her, either. She could have told me to stick a chunk of Bacon Burger over there in my mouth and I’d have agreed to it.

Shit dammit shit don’t think about food. And don’t stare at her ass when she walks away.

…There wasn’t a whole lot I could do with the corpses. Nakajima could probably squeeze more information out of ‘em – at least an Officio body count, see how pissed off everyone else would be. And that was if Miss Tomoe hadn’t called someone in already, though I kinda hoped she hadn’t. For a lot of reasons.

…A noise. A flicker of movement among the debris. My knife was in my hand in an instant, and for a second, I half-expected some barbecued corpse to lunge out of the shadows, like some shitty horror film. Instead…

“…Apostle Cooldown…?” A tiny voice, familiar in a nagging way, squeaked out at me through the darkness. …Blue. One of the girls from the Seventh, I think. Somethingko, the one with the umbrella. A pretty aqua blue pretty much all over, the one that seemed to spend half her time shaking like one of those little dogs that piss everywhere and yip all the time. This was no exception. This was the opposite of an exception, she looked like she could barely stand, and I didn’t exactly blame her. I tucked my knife away and…

…Well, I hugged the poor kid. …She just…needed it. Even I could tell. She started to bawl, snotted into my shoulder and wet my neck with tears. She might have been trying to tell me a story, but I couldn’t make out what she was trying to say. I couldn’t figure out how the hell she was still alive. All I could do was pat her back. Stroke her hair. Tell her it was gonna be okay. …Mami could have done it better. I shot a message to Nakajima to get her ass down here and play with some corpses, and that she’d be picking somebody up. And to bring a candy bar for the kid.

Blue could stay with us for now. Jade was good at taking care of people; hell, it was basically what she did all the time. We could get something coherent out of her later, if we could keep her from witching out.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Miss Tomoe was on her way back already. That was either really good news or really bad news. The noise was enough to startle Blue, and she quietly slipped behind me just as Miss Tomoe came into view.

“Wendy-san? Did you find someone here?” Blue gripped the back of my jacket, right up by my shoulder blades, and I half-glanced back at her.

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s in any state to talk, though. Already arranged for pickup; we need a Venenum here to check these corpses out anyway, and Nakajima’s pretty close.” …Thinking about it, Nakajima wasn’t someone I wanted to leave anybody alone with. I took a second to send Jade a message, too, to make sure her sister didn’t take Blue to her magic torture lab or something.

“…Mm, as long as we can get an accurate number fairly quickly. I need to know what to tell Kyuubey and the Warmaster.” Miss Tomoe and Nakajima didn’t really care for each other, and it showed just a twinge in Mami’s expression. But Amber was the best the Eighth had to offer in…whatever her field was. A quick, accurate number would be easy enough for her.

“Good. I was able to pull together a recording of the events leading up to the fire. Ah, Miss, I’d like to show the Apostle something you may not want to see again, so if you wouldn’t mind standing aside…?” Mami smiled her kind, disarming smile, and Blue let me go in an instant, shuffling a few steps away and turning, then turning again, looking for a direction that was a little less corpsey.

…I didn’t like what Mami showed me. I didn’t like it at all. No sound, but it was some Culexus cunt. She just showed up and wiped the place out, all at once, then torched it. Had a message to send. A Culexus that shat fire instead of making people puke, that was all too familiar. The Prophet. The fucking Prophet.

We put off dealing with her and we got fucked for it. I growled out a few choice swears and whirled away from Miss Tomoe, half-prepared to stomp a fucking mudhole in some asses right there. We didn’t have as much intel as we would have liked, but we had enough. We had prognosticators. We had girls – we had better than just girls, we had fanatics. We had people that’d charge in and die trying to rip these fuckers apart without blinking. It was the best revenge force a girl could ask for. All this cult shit had been nothing but a pain up until that moment, but all of a sudden, it was like crazy blood Christmas.

She’d finally, finally fucked with us a little too much. Fucked with me. Fucked with my people. I decided right then and there that I was going to carve her a Glasgow fucking smile, and I was gonna do it today. …Culexus would be tough, but I wasn’t sure my soul gem could even pop like that anymore. Not with Pinkbitch sitting on my shoulder all the time. Prophet herself was just a prop, right? A puppet everyone else masturbated to. That was what I heard. Dead bitches. All of them.

I almost swung at Mami as she placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I know. We’re all upset right now, but we shouldn’t act too rashly. Weren’t you already going to call on the Ninth for help…?” I couldn’t hold it, not completely. Couldn’t keep a firm grip on that burning rage, not with Miss Tomoe there. “I’d like to arrange a meeting - sooner rather than later -  and we can discuss it with the Warmaster.”

…I deflated a little and just…nodded. …Yeah. Sure. We’d…talk to Matsuda. …Fucking fantastic. Just what I wanted to do today.

---

I caught a ride with Miss Tomoe back to the hotel where we’d planned to hold the meeting. It almost reminded me of riding bitch on Schpeltiger back when…well, nevermind. Mami was shorter, wore her helmet, and was…softer to hang onto. …Made it a little hard to feel feminine, y’know? She just…had that effect, made everyone else feel like a clumsy asshole. Even doing stuff like this. Didn’t matter, though, it was nice. The ride back to Mitakihara wasn’t nearly long enough.

She practically pushed me into the shower when we arrived, and I didn’t blame her – we both smelled like bad barbecue. She had a meeting to set up, and I had a few calls I wanted to make, too. Shiraki wanted to be there for the Shieldmaiden, and she was the local branch head. Called up the prognosticators and asked them to send someone, just in case. Nakajima and Jade, too, I…well, I needed somebody I trusted there, aside from Miss Tomoe. Had to make a good impression. Had to put up a good front for the Church’s image, same as dealing with other Officios. Had to show we were strong and united and pissed beyond belief.

…Maybe I just wanted backup, in case things went south.

It didn’t hit me how tired I was until I felt hot water on my skin, and my brain just about shut itself down on the spot. I fell against the tile on the wall and just…rested, for a moment. …Hadn’t slept well, not for a while now. Not that that was new. I still had a handful of sleep aids from…the Christmas before last, but I couldn’t bring myself to use the bottle all the way up. Or maybe I didn’t want to sleep. Fuck if I knew. But the shower, that felt better than anything I could imagine, right then.

…I guess I did fall asleep, because I was jolted awake a few minutes later – I think just a few minutes – by the sound of the shower curtain being pushed aside. My knife was in my hand (which for a split second was kind of ironic), and then it was gone as I caught a glance at flowing, golden hair, curling gently down Miss Tomoe’s shoulders. She gave me a sweet smile, as if this wasn’t strange at all.

…She had a towel wrapped around her body, and it kinda pissed me off.

“I’m sorry for waking you, Wendy-san.” She giggled, and my face burned hot. “We’ll be meeting with the Warmaster in a little over an hour, and I’d like to help you relax. You need to be at your best, after all.” ..Yeah. It was my first time meeting Chiaki Matsuda. First time really meeting her. No bullshit, no…no weird, complicated stuff because I was kind of afraid to see her.

She noticed I was worried immediately, and pressed up against my back, wrapping her arms around my waist. …I felt vulnerable, right then, in…in that way only Miss Tomoe could make you feel vulnerable. In this warm, numbing way that made you want to feel helpless. My dignity and will to resist were sitting out there with my panties. …Still tried to cover up a little, though, and when she noticed, she just giggled.

My hand rested on hers for just a moment before she pulled them both away and slipped her fingers into my hair, running them through wavy, copper-red locks.

“You really need to brush it more often, Wendy-san.” She tut-tutted at me and began to…to do it herself. It was…that was all it took. She didn’t have to do anything dirty, didn't have to speak. Barely had to touch me at all. I could feel her fingers and the brush in my hair, and the fatigue, the tension, the worry…they all melted away.

I had to fight not to laugh as she lathered up my scalp a few minutes later, humming that song she seemed to like so much.

“C’mon, I’m twenty years old, Mami. I can do this. Really…” I didn’t want her to stop. I leaned back against her, and she paused for a second.

“My. I’m only nineteen, you know. Maybe you should be taking care of me by now, Wendy. Or do you always want to be tended to by a younger woman…?”  Yeah. I absolutely, totally did. …Guess she’d been doing this kind of thing for me for a long time, though. Not usually in the shower. The swell of her chest squeezed against me as she reached over me to redirect the showerhead, and soap and water flowed over my tired eyes.

…Fucking towel.

“…Hey. If you want to be taken care of…I mean, I’ll do you anytime. …Too. …Do you too. …Anytime.” That went from zero to fuckup in no time. I just snapped my jaw shut and let her rub conditioner into my scalp. She was smiling again, I knew it. Well, she was usually smiling, but this was the ‘Got you on my hook’ smile.

“If you mean you’d like to help me wash my hair, then yes, please. Do me, Wendy Cooldown…~”

Ffffuck.

Fifteen minutes later, we were out and blowdried, and I hadn’t stopped blushing yet. Hairstyling was…fun, actually. When we had time for it. But today, we didn’t. With a gentle golden glow, her hair curled into its trademark drills, and with my own harsh pinpricks of light, mine whipped itself into tight pigtails, tied tight with…little yellow ribbons. I stared for a second, then my eyes flicked over to Miss Tomoe, who’d gone back to humming. She sent me a sidelong glance, and what may have been a smirk.

“There was one other thing…I know you’ll do your best not to make a scene, but I’m still a bit worried about you and Chiaki-san, since she still doesn’t have the best self-control.” Two fingers pointed at me like a little pistol, and a ribbon snaked out from between them and coiled around my neck, tying itself into a small bow in the back. …It was a little tight. It was always a little tight.

“This is just a bit of a reminder. I need you to be as pleasant as you can, Wendy, and I think with a gentle reminder like this, that won’t be a problem for you. Will it…?” She turned back to the mirror without even waiting for an answer.

“No, Miss Tomoe.” I gave one anyway, without even thinking. “…Civil and pleasant. Sure. Even if she pulls a gun on me.” Did she still do that? “Does she still do that?”

Mami paused for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.

“Yes, despite our best efforts. She’s…well, she’s gotten much better, Wendy-san. I’m sorry I have to phrase it like that, I truly am. But she’s still…a bit rough around the edges. You’re still quite a lot alike.” The look she gave me was just shy of pitying. “But I can at least say that the resemblances are in somewhat less…difficult areas, now. For both of you.”

…Great. I had no idea what that meant. Was it…was it about fucking fat girls?
---

We were all tense as we waited for the Warmaster and her goon squad to show up. I had the prognosticator – Yulia, apparently, but I’d just been calling her Stutters – keep tabs on what she was doing. How many she was bringing. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to walk in itching for a fight, despite Miss Tomoe’s best attempts at calming me down.

“She’s fucking with me. She brought like, everybody that matters but Karasawa, and I wouldn’t be able to detect Karasawa even if she brought her. She’s fucking with me.” I downed my second cup of hot tea, I guess in the past ten minutes or so.

“Isn’t that what you would do, Wendy?” Mami answered coolly, like she always did. “And please, be a bit more gentle with your tea.”

“I’d figure between you, Mickey, and me, we’d probably be good.” My leg kept twitching, and I hunched over in my seat. …Shouldn’t have gone with the red leather jacket. It felt really tight. Between that and the…the ribbon.

“You’d establish an overwatch, or rig the building with explosives.” A gentle suggestion, but a good point. …Bravado was one thing, but it wasn’t usually worth sacrificing prudence. You had to balance them. Shit. We should have rigged the building with explosives. We should have… …Ah. No. This was diplomacy. Just like any other diplomatic mission. Jesus, I was wound tight.

“…Sorry. Been a long night. I mean…you were there,” I mumbled, feeling every bit like a complete asshole.

“Well, we DID take a long shower.” Mami shot me a little smirk, and Nakajima burst into a fit of giggles behind me. Jade just cleared her throat and refilled my teacup.

“Lewd, Wendy. Super lewd,” Amber chirped.

“Terribly lewd,” Jade quietly chimed in. I felt like my face was going to catch on fire. Like all those girls today. …Fuck. I was mad all over again. But I had to suck it up – she was almost here. I heard voices out in the hall, annnd…

Showtime.