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- Author's Note: This takes place after "Popular Mechanics" and before the start of the Second Mission.
- ====================
- “I’m honestly quite surprised,” Victoria says, errantly passing a stick of Pocky to Gremlin. Within two bites, the demon had devoured the snack, trilling contently as it leaned against its summoner. “Sure, you’ve got a slight accent and practice almost goes without saying, but you’re one of the most fluent people that I’ve ever met.”
- I respond with a non-committal grunt. “Thanks. Yeah, I get that a lot. More often than you’d think.”
- “Really? How often exactly?”
- I shrug, ticking off fingers as I run through the list in my head. “About every country that my old man’s line of work took me to. I can speak Spanish better than German since I took a few years of Latin back in my schoolboy years. Russian isn’t my strongest suit, but it’s definitely a whole lot better than my Arabic. Can’t remember all those squiggly lines for the life of me.”
- “And that isn’t even including Japanese,” Victoria observes. “I can only imagine the surprise on their faces when you were able to speak the local language.”
- “Oh, believe me, the novelty wore off really quickly. Once they saw that I had a basic grasp on the language, no one ever spoke English to me ever again. Thank God there were other expats from English-speaking countries with their own kids in tow. Came perilously close to losing my accent a couple of times.”
- “Now that would be a tragedy in of itself,” she intones in a serious manner, but her eyes twinkle with a playful mirth. “A British-born man without the accent of tea, crumpets and ‘God Save the Queen’.”
- “I honestly prefer scones myself. And I drink more coffee than I do tea. Doesn’t nearly have as much caffeine or kick as my old job required of me.”
- “I dunno, Brady…that sounds like you’re barely hanging onto your British card.”
- “If that’s the game you wanna play, then how come you’re working under the hood of a lorry in oily overalls? Most Japanese women around your age would be working corporate or accounting. And no rice at every meal?”
- She rolls her eyes at that. “Fair enough, but I blame our recent trip to Delaware and our time in Cocytus for that one. Rice isn’t exactly commonplace on the beach and a paramilitary training camp. And prior to joining the Task Force, I was still a demure salary woman, referring to customers as ‘okyakusama’ and whatever titles they carried.”
- “You really do that? Here, in America, I mean,” I say, quickly adding an explanation after a confused tilt of her head. “Calling them ‘honored guest’. You’re Virginian, right? Can’t imagine a lot of Japanese folks down there.”
- “A few customers,” She shrugs, handing another stick of Pocky to the demon in her lap. This time, Gremlin takes its time, purring contentedly as it sucks at the chocolate. “Mostly immigrants who have a harder time speaking English. There’s a niche market in downtown Arlington where my father has his shop. Although I’m quite curious. If you don’t mind me asking, how long did you stay in Japan? And where?”
- “Two years and a few months. We had us a lovely 1LDK-plus in the Chiba prefecture. Small compared to our previous place in German, but it was homely enough.”
- Memories come flooding to the foreground of my mind, and I can’t help but sigh. Almost six years have come and gone, but out of all the countries I’ve been to, Japan still tops my list. “I miss it, really. Cheap manga, delicious food and your bathing culture. Sometimes I’d just sit in our tub for hours on end. And don’t get me started on the toilet. Heated seats…and that do-hickey that’s with the toilet, God, I can’t remember its name. Uh…you know…the um…”
- Recognition visibly dawns on Victoria’s face. “Oh, you mean the thing that sprays water up from under the bowl?”
- “Yeah, that.”
- She smiles. “The bidet isn’t something that lots of people here are familiar with. Or comfortable, for that matter.”
- I shrug. “Can’t imagine why not. I mean, sure it feels weird and tickles something awful at first, but if you get used to it, it actually feels pretty-”
- It’s that quick. One moment, I’m about to finish my sentence, and in the next, she’s gone and crammed an entire fistful of Pocky into my mouth. “And stop right there because there’s children in the room.” She chastises, holding Gremlin’s ears pinched closed. “Well, not children, per se, but young demons who don’t need to be hearing that kind of thing.”
- “Mrghmphagrm.”
- “Chew before you speak.”
- The image made the assembled demons laugh, so the indignity wasn’t a total loss. Still, it takes a few moments to chew past the snack that’s been stuffed into my mouth. Hmm…strawberry flavored, and it isn’t half bad. I make a mental note to hit up the snack isle when I go back to the ethnic superfoods market.
- “…so yeah,” I continue, errantly reaching for a bag of chips. Jack Frost was struggling to open the bag before I pop it open for him. Crumbs fly as he dives headfirst into the bag. “That’s how I know Japanese. I kept in shape for my kanji and hiragana after going back to the U.K. by doing some scanslation work.”
- Victoria frowns. “Scanslation?”
- Oh, right. Odds were likely that she wouldn’t know. “Taking raw manga images, scanning them into the internet, translating them into English and releasing them onto a hosting site. I was in charge of translating. My typesetting isn’t all that great.”
- “You know, I’m not a lawyer or anything,” Victoria says with a smirk. It isn’t on the level of Fitz’s, but it’s still smug enough to put her in the running. “But I’m fairly sure I know about copyright law to know that’s illegal.”
- “Maybe,” I shrug, adopting an air of nonchalance. “I plead the legacy of a misspent youth. Vicky, I was a borderline shut-in computer nerd who watched anime in his spare time. I had to let out my rebellious impulses out somehow.”
- She snorts. “You and I are almost the same age, give or take a few months. You’re far from an old man. And you’re still young enough to do some wild and crazy things on your own, and that’s not even including the Task Force.”
- “Not with my back I’m not. Anymore hours hunched over my laptop and I’m going to become the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
- “I’m not Adrian, but trust me when I say that you aren’t.”
- I smile at that. “Thanks for the vote of confidence-”
- “Quasimodo is more handsome than you are.”
- “…I take it back, you’re a horrible person,” I retort in an utter deadpan.
- She laughs, her voice a pleasant soprano as it hitches in unrestrained amusement. The sound tickles all the way as it goes into my ear, and sends a warm, fuzzy feeling going down the length of my spine.
- When she finishes, she makes another inquiry. "So you attended school in Japan? Which years were you in?"
- “One year of middle and two of high school. Dunno how much anime you watch, but I was the foreign exchange student that came in a few weeks after the start of the term.”
- Victoria nods. “I’ve watched my fair share when I was a kid, up until middle school. But I recently got back into it with the…ah…remakes for ‘Sailor Moon’ and ‘Initial D’.”
- “I was more of a Pokémon kid than Yu-Gi-Oh - wait hold up a moment,” I cut myself off in the middle of my sentence, gawking at her. The stark difference of tone and genre is more than enough to throw me off my guard. “‘Sailor Moon’ I get and everything, but…‘Initial D’? You watched that?”
- A light blush dusts her cheeks as she squirms in her seat, frowning with only the slightest bit of indignation at my unabashed stare. “Hey, my dad…car mechanic…remember?”
- I belatedly retract my staring. “Oh…sorry, it’s just…” I cut myself off before I can make a further ass of myself. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with you watching it. Just a surprise, is all. I thought you were into motorcycles?”
- The tension in the air relaxes, though it doesn’t completely remove the awkwardness. Victoria laughs nervously, rubbing the back of her head in a sheepish manner. “Yeah, I used to watch it with my family. It’d be movie night for us, just…sitting on the couch and watching late-night runs of the show. Though to be fair, I did start with cars before I made the jump to motorcycles. Still good at fixing both.”
- I crack a smile. “Ever get behind the wheel of an 86?”
- “I wish,” Victoria sighs, and the look on her face is dreamy, “But conversion kits for the AE86 sell out like hotcakes. The backlog is insane, not to mention the price hike when they actually become available. Stupid supply-and-demand principles.”
- “Welcome to capitalism,” I dryly say, raising my bottle of pop in a mock toast. “We hope you enjoy your stay.”
- She snorts, but she lifts up her own Cola in response to mine. “I’ll drink to that.”
- The sound of glass tinkling reverberates along the small room, and we throw our drinks back as if we’ve done a hard day’s work. Working for the Task Force is grueling, but on days like this…they were relatively tame in comparison to training and field work. Demons are temperamental, even when it comes to snacks, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
- I do a better job of holding down the fizz better than she does. Victoria hiccups as the carbonation works something awful, before scowling and blushing as the demons laugh and I grin at her. It’s a tie now, though I have to give her props for recovering quickly.
- The blush is still on her face as she coughs, tossing her hair back before resuming our discussion. “So how was our education system compared to the other places you’ve been to? I hope they stand well against the standards of Russian schools, or German institutions.”
- “It holds up pretty nicely. It was this lovely little place just under a kilometer from the house. Once and only once did I ever entertain the ‘toast in mouth’ cliché in being late for school. Got jam all over the bloody gakkuen.”
- A wry smile plays across her lips. “On the subject of cliché…did you experience any Chuunibiyo?”
- “Oh my God, please don’t.” I shudder as bad memories, ones that I’d been repressing for years, come right back into my mind. “What the hell is up with your country’s middle schoolers?”
- She actually has to stop and think for that one. Adopting a pose that wouldn’t look out of place in a school environment, Victoria hums to herself. “There are lots of reasons for that, actually. Overly active imagination, too much anime,” She rattles off, ticking one finger with every reason she says, “Escape fantasy from the bleak reality of adulthood-”
- “It’s just like one of my Chinese Cartoons!”
- “Hmmm?”
- “Eh…video game reference, don’t mind it. But to get to the point, I never went full Chuuni as much as I was the victim of it. I can remember at least three instance and five idiots who thought my arrival was some sort of bloody omen of great things. Just because I’m ‘le foreign transfer student’.”
- Her snort is half amusement, half mutual chagrin. “I can sympathize. In high school, I didn’t transfer in, but I had my fair share of...what is the Western equivalent for Chuuni? I’ve heard Japanophiles used before.”
- “‘Weeaboo’ is the catch-all term.”
- “Okay, then yeah. I had that, too. People coming up to me in the hallway, asking me all kinds of weird questions. I think the one that stood out to me the most was this kid who…” Victoria can’t even finish before snorting, taking a moment to clear out a bit of desert that went down the wrong pipe before continuing. “Sorry. I mean…sure, anime sometimes holds truths to Japanese schooling but…letters in the locker? Perverted classmate who kept making sex jokes? I almost punched his lights out when he kept trying to make these weird advances on me…like…no.” She visibly shudders.
- A derisive laugh comes out of my throat. “Christ, that’s…that’s just creepy, holy shit. That’s a next-level weeb if I ever heard one.” For a moment, I’d been tempted to call Vicky’s classmate autistic, but that would’ve been an insult to autistic people. At least they eventually got the hint and left well enough alone if you made your intentions clear enough, but…Jesus.
- “You wanna compare cringe, huh? Okay, I got one for you. It was in middle school when some idiot came up to me thinking I had come to slay…I can’t even bloody remember the whole thing. Something, something…‘Mater of the Dark Flame’? I only remember that much at least because he kept on shouting his damned alias in broken and heavily accented Engrish. Every. Bloody. Time. I saw him.”
- She can’t hold it in. One moment, her face wars with itself in a battle of amusement and restraint before she lets it go and laughs uncontrollably. Again, her voice tickles the back of my throat long after she calms down and wipes tears out of her eyes. “On behalf of my country, I apologize for your classmate’s stupidity.”
- “Oh, it doesn’t end there. I had a few of my classmates drag me to one of those otome-cafes? Host club? They wanted me to give a bloody review and evaluation of how well their Victorian-era hosts were since, well, I’m the real deal. Not that they could tell a boy from Bristol apart from a Londoner, but it’s close enough for them.”
- “Pft. Geez. I think you definitely win in terms of how bizarre your friends can be.”
- It’s that quick. One moment everything’s fine, and then the cheerful mood just disappears. My grip around the pop bottle tightens, and the glass creaks in protest against the increase in pressure.
- “Brady?” I didn’t open my mouth, but Victoria sensed the change in mood almost immediately. Frowning, she lifts Gremlin off her lap as she scoots closer to me. “Are you alright? Was it something I said?”
- It takes a moment for me to respond. “Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off. “It’s nothing you said. Just…my own damage. Not your fault.”
- Instead of backing off like she’s supposed to, Victoria frowns at that. “Damage? Brady, you keep talking about things as if I’m going to understand them without any sort of prior explanation.”
- She has a point there. I’m not about to surrender that easily, but the intense look on her face throws me off my usual rancor. “I…I don’t really…”
- And now I’m spilling my goddamn spaghetti. I’m not good at this, not when it’s one-on-one, especially with a subject like this. The lonely son of a member of the British Consulate, growing up in a single-parent household…well, you can do the math yourself, and add all the factors that made me this way.
- The padded floor shifts as I reposition myself, suddenly uncomfortable as the darker thoughts surface to the front of my mind. “I mean…sure, I had…friends, people I could hang out with, but…I think I was just a novelty to them, no matter where my old man was stationed. Not just your run-of-the-mill foreigner or gaijin, but a legitimate Englishman, complete with Bristol accent and everything. And once I’d had to transfer…that contact and relationships almost disappeared entirely.”
- Understanding suddenly flashes in her eyes, with no small amount of sorrow. But she holds her silence, patiently waiting for me to find the words to continue.
- I hesitate before shrugging noncommittally. “You know how it is. You promise to talk to each other no matter how far away you are, it’s like nothing’s ever gonna change and your relationships are gonna be the same. Well, as it turns out…some promises are made to be broken.”
- Pity visibly appears on her face. “Oh, Brady…I’m sorry.”
- Sighing, I make a quick, if not slightly bitter, rebuttal. When did this become a therapy session? Bloody hell. I’m not trying to fish for cheap sympathy. “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine for thinking that the next time, the next country would be different. But it turns out that just like before, I’m the one that ends up waiting for an email or text that’s never gonna come.”
- “But you said ‘almost’,” Victoria insists. “That means that there’s a few that you still keep up with.”
- “The extent of that is Facebook ‘happy birthday’ greetings, and other social niceties that people are obliged to say, but don’t really mean.” I’m not sure whether or not the smile on my face is wry or self-deprecating. “But one of my friends at the host club, Tashi Nakamura, still keeps in touch. Though every time I go back for a vacation, he wants to know so he can get my tux ready. Apparently,” I continue, with a voice that practically drips with sarcasm, “He’s made my return something of a special occasion for the ladies that frequent the store.”
- She winces. “Oh…I’m…”
- Jack Frost settles down on my lap, and I shift myself to make the snow fairy more comfortable. My hand lingers on the demon’s cap, even after I finished patting its head. “Tashi’s a womanizing twat,” I dryly retort, “And a skilled dissembler when it comes to women. But he’s one of the few friends I have that I can count on my fingers. And he pays me decently to stand and be British. Though that doesn’t really say much about me considering his line of work.”
- “‘When the character of a man is not clear to you, look at his friends,’” Victoria recites the Japanese proverb word for word. But she frowns, and I can see the light bulb go off in her eyes as she suddenly smiles. “But you forgot to name a few others.”
- “Hmmm?”
- Rolling her eyes, she holds out her hand and starts ticking off fingers. “Adrian, Fitz, MacKay and I. Slight bit of a reach for Commander Alger, but if we include our demons as well, then we can easily make two handfuls of friends.”
- She is right. You know, I’d almost forgotten in the heat of it all. Between the training, the attack and the hectic first mission…I’d never really stopped to think about where Squad Carina stood in relation to me. Though maybe that was just because I’d conditioned myself to minimalist interaction with other people so I wouldn’t get hurt again.
- But it had been hard to keep that barrier up when we’d gone through some crazy shit together, got up to all kinds of crazy shenanigans. And shared more than a few chuckles and bottles of painkillers at the end of it all.
- “You hee-mean to say, ho, that you’re hee not my friend, ho?” I blink as Jack Frost grabs my cheeks, ignoring the snacks that lie at his feet. The demon’s hands are cold, but its smile remains warm and open on its frozen face. “But you can’t be-hee anything else, ho! You fe-hee-ed me with delicious food, and hee-play with me, ho!”
- “Pet” is the word for that. A spellcasting snow fairy of a pet, but a pet nonetheless. No, that isn’t right. I can’t call Jack or Mokoi pets. Not after they’ve fought right at my side, no matter how disastrous the situation had been. Case in point Camp Cocytus, or more recently, the clusterfuck that was the Delaware Case.
- “No,” I mutter. “No, you are my friend, Jack. You’re my partner, my number one man. Demon, rather. Number one demon.”
- It positively preens at the words before diving back into a bag of chips. Crumbs and bits of salt fly into my face as it resumes its meal with an increased gusto.
- “Brady…” Out of nowhere, Victoria moves in, and pokes my forehead with a wry grin. “It isn’t just your demons. All of us, we’re your friends. Unless there’s another description for people you fight supernatural creatures alongside with.”
- I could probably name a few off the top of my head, but I could see what she’s going for. And I wasn’t about to ruin her momentum with a witty retort. “I can’t think of any, no,” I slowly say, tugging the hem of my shirt with a nervous finger. “And…you guys aren’t just coworkers. I mean…that is to say…”
- Stop. Full reverse. Abandon ship. All hands on board. The spaghetti is absolutely flowing out of my pocket, and I really want to go hang myself. But for all my awkwardness, she’s patient, again waiting for me to get the foot and words out of my mouth. It’s impossible to completely suppress that saccharine, warm and fuzzy feeling that sends tingles up and down my body.
- “I do think…I really do think of you guys as my…” I take a moment to swallow a lump in my throat. “…as my friends.”
- She smiles, all genuine and friendly as she points right at me. “So you see? It’s the opposite, after all. You’re not a bad person, Brady, if you count us as your friends. We’re all in this together, whether you like it or not. And all things considered, I think you’re a pretty nice guy.”
- Maybe I felt it when we started boot camp, but it's only now that I'm consciously feeling it. That is to say, hope that's enough to make me believe that everything is going to be alright. Not necessarily smooth sailing, but an overall positive gain.
- ...
- And looking back on it all, I think that was the first and definite moment when I fell for Victoria Yamane.
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