Yuri Worlds
[88] Worlds
The being inhabiting Maharu‘s body turned to look over her left shoulder and sigh before noting with exasperation, "Honestly. I have managed to ramble for all this time, and not one takoyaki I promised you is ready. This is a continuing concern. You can have worlds in your hands, but you can’t have the one treat you want. Some say we crave power and immortality, but power always needs to grow, and immortality only buys patience."
Misaki and Yuka at one point traded a look that essentially said without speaking that they were going to wait this creature out. But Misaki could feel so many of its words piling up with water torture-level persistent slow aggravation. It had come to a point where she had to speak, or the company creature that claimed to just be human would’ve found it suspicious if she didn’t say anything.
“Is Yasuda Mari dead? Was she killed?”
That final flickering image of Mari falling into oblivion stuck with Misaki. Yuka squeezed her eyes closed for a long moment. Maharu adjusted her position in the chair and covered a quick cough. For a long, quiet moment, she looked like she was seriously assessing Misaki‘s question. Then the smile came out again.
“We’re not really in the business of unaliving anyone. I think that would be an awful business. However, everyone associated with our goals and ideals understands that there are great rewards and unfortunate consequences associated with our responsibilities.”
Yuka sharply responded, “You said absolutely nothing in so many words. She’s dead because she broke your rules and dared to help the little ones in the nursery and keep us safe from you. Where are my friends, and where are my moms? Did you kill them too, just because you could, and they would get in the way of whatever fucking future you want?”
Maharu‘s features tightened as the entity within listened. Misaki had seen anger and disappointment on the girl’s face, as well as shades of darkness in sad places. This wasn’t a familiar form of that. It felt instead like annoyance worn down to a nub.
"Your mothers are perfectly fine. Everyone in your close, caring friend group is fine. Your sister and our mutual friend Haruka has taken care of matters in your absence. I want to apologize for everything you experienced this evening. Joshua Feland is a problematic but necessary part of developing the resources necessary for everything we intend to do. He’s very rich, but he’s a cruel sadist. He’s stuck in patriarchal structures of violence. Don’t worry, you’re going to help us overcome those like him."
Yuka flared her teeth and shot back. “You’re still like him. Just because you kill clinically with an apology doesn’t make you better.”
Hoisting herself up in the chair, Maharu scrutinized the far wall as though she expected something to come out of it and was bewildered why it refused to shimmer and shift. Letting it go for the moment, Maharu rubbed her chin and responded, "We’re getting off track. Neither of you is fascinated by the fact that you’re living in a literal future fashioned for you. No curious scrutiny of the implications? Do I have to spell it all out?"
There weren’t any crickets to punctuate the silence between them, but Misaki and Yuka both firmly held their tongues. Maharu rubbed at the edges of her large, bright eyes before sighing.
"Cerberus. It all comes down to Project Cerberus. I picked the name because I have a fondness for dogs too. Not just a guard dog, though we’ve anticipated that our future will require someone like that to step in, especially in a custodial role. You will realize true immortality for so many through what’s known as quantum immortality. You have the nascent but clear capability to split yourself into separate, cohesive fragments in different realities and universes. Three fractures appear to be the maximum, thus the name Cerberus. But there may be no limit to those capabilities under the right conditions. Although integrity of self has eroded in our initial experiments. That’s what this is all about. You are so very special, Yuka. And we never wanted there to be only one of you." Maharu tilted her head towards Misaki with a sly smile.
At that moment, the wall finally shimmered with what Misaki would best describe as an odd pixelation, similar to crashing ocean foam or disturbed puffy clouds. Maharu issued a lingering, severe sigh as an entourage of workers in white swarmed around the table and presented a myriad of dishes. In all, nearly a dozen plates covered the surface, practically to the edge. In front of Maharu, one specific worker placed a porcelain cup of egg drop soup. They all quickly returned through the walls without a word said or an extra motion expended.
Clapping softly, Maharu declared, "Please dig in and enjoy. If you need more refreshments or would like anything else, just say."
Yuka looked down at the spread and then back up at Maharu with a scowl before saying, “I want miso soup… Made by both my mothers right here, now, in person, or you can go fuck yourself and whatever special quantum bullshit you want out of me.” To emphasize her point, she stretched her arm into an obsidian blade and held it against the base of her neck.
Holding her soup cup in her left hand, Maharu gave me a rough cough, followed by a generous sip from the cup and then another. She set it back down and noted, "It puzzles me that you default to the F word for strong emotions. Your entire world and society scarcely even have a concept for what it expresses. Sure, there are still violent acts by women against others because no world has yet reached true, glorious feminine perfection. But I wonder why it exists at such a punctuation point for you. You didn’t simply learn it from your guests, so it must be... well, that’s yet another explanation to offer. Although, Miss Takano has something of her own to share first."
It pained Misaki to see Yuka threatening herself, though her heart beat with the same desire to see the Sasaki moms again and know that they were okay. She wanted to tell Yuka what she witnessed in the vision when they were falling, though she wasn’t sure if she could trust what it told her or what it might represent.
The food before them looked good, with a curious variety and remix to the takoyaki that she experienced at the festival. She couldn’t be eager to dig in. And with good reason, beyond not just contradicting this fucker, since everything was hotly steaming, and she had no interest in adding more mouth burn on top of everything else.
Yuka sought out her eyes with nervous questions. The blade was still positioned to draw blood if she so much as twitched an inch. Misaki dipped her head and sighed before responding, "Fuckface is right." Maharu scrunched up her eye lines but didn’t otherwise react.
Misaki continued, "I saw the day Chika went to Travel Anywhere as a memory. I thought maybe I had traveled back in time. I wasn’t sure whether to change things because it would’ve meant never meeting you." Yuka gently smiled, her eyes dipping down and flicking back to warmly watch Misaki.
With a cough after another sip of her soup, Maharu added, “Time travel is impossible. Ours is the only method of manipulating timelines. Craft a future and seed it.” Yuka narrowed her eyes but didn’t otherwise respond to that statement. She lightly tipped her head up, encouraging Misaki to continue despite the visible tension in her body language. Misaki knew what was coming and what she would have to say.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
She had plenty of options to blunt and moderate the implications, but the cruelly crafted, vacant words spoken by Maharu’s kind face burned in Misaki‘s thoughts worse than any blood curse. She had also sanitized and danced around so many different strange moments, and Yuka had gladly engaged in that dance with her.
"But it was a memory," she reiterated. "Someone who works for Travel Anywhere implanted a fuzzy, spiky, dark entity creature in my little sister. But she couldn’t take it. She experienced a violent reaction and hallucinations. They tried Namiko too, with about the same results, before finally selecting me. That entity had memories of being you. It was your leg before they cut it off. I don’t know for sure what that means, but I always feel drawn to you. I love you, and my heart screams that it’s not just because of this." There was so much more to say, but even reaching the implication of those words exhausted Misaki.
They were connected by an understanding and a clear, physical conduit. What she implied made it through, though she couldn’t speak the words. As deeper sincerity started to bloom between them, they both held back something for the protection of the other. And a cold, calculating analytical edge now overshadowed the beauty.
The warmth of welcoming one another in the first place? Simply the rejoining of lost limbs. Sharing and caring for one another? Secret narcissism.
Maharu chimed in. "Think of it like a starfish. Although we never completely severed the connection, it seems. Quite a pickle. Well, eat up. I find the variety towards the middle quite nice." She scooped up one of the takoyaki with the provided chopsticks and then sampled several closer to her. A full smile marked her face as she delightedly chewed.
Yuka’s dark blade arm dipped. She wanted to cry but didn’t have the energy to heave the sobs. Instead, the sound barely emerged as a struggling cough on the verge of choking.
With a trace of a smirk behind her chewing, Maharu added when her mouth was clear, "That wouldn’t have done anything, not really. As I said, we made you for immortality, Cerberus. Nothing so simple as a cut can change that. You’re protected. Unfortunately, Miss Takano remains frustratingly mortal. She shows potential with the… Grafting effort, but it’s complicated. Though love and idealism are so simple. A shame when they run into bitter reality. And that’s not all. But come on, food’s getting cold." The last part of her statement momentarily inflected feelings exactly like Maharu would express them. Misaki could imagine all these serious aspects were a play stretched too long or a game without a clear conclusion, and, when it was done, the brutal visage would simply slough off and everything would be as it was. But that didn’t happen; that couldn’t happen.
Somehow, though it seemed like they were stuck underwater in slow motion, they each reached out for a random, flavorful ball. In any other context, Misaki would’ve delighted over the variations and the faintly chewy but not tough fried bits. The meal was getting cold but still had a glimmer of heat.
After partaking in her soup again, almost to the point of emptying the cup, Maharu took a deep breath and mentioned, "Yuri worlds. Your homes. One open and flowering with all that delightful beauty of transformation and expression. One deprived and drained of all of that precious color. Thirsty, yearning to open all the real possibilities of existence. We positioned it that way. Add in and take away, and see what the thresholds are. A delicate experiment. Granted, things are not always delicate. I’ve had to blow up a few worlds along the way."
Now it was Misaki‘s turn to feel like the floor beneath her had melted away. "You…sucked the life out of…my home?"
"Yes, for a good while. Well, time and perspective. Longer for you. It’s funny. Your world was much more anime-girl-drenched. Naturally flourishing. Its persistence without brutal chaos is admirable. None of you remember the day it all changed. It was quite easy. You’ve met my breezy little friend. Just a small segment. Earlier efforts with our best harvests. Animal blends eventually followed, but the results were mixed. They unfortunately tended towards humanity, and that can be so unpredictable with what’s locked inside all of us. Koharu carried the ability to inspire irrepressible joy in everyone she met. At the time, letting a troublesome man like Joshua cull a few chaotic developments didn’t seem so bad. Plus, it satiated his gross desires and kept him happy for our purposes."
Yuka clenched her free hand so tight that it lost the depth of its anime shading. Rising with fury, she swung her blade around to the edge of Maharu‘s neck and stopped just short of touching flesh. The entity within the innocent girl actually leaned towards the shiny blade without touching it. Her unwavering gaze breathed frigid confidence.
“Do it, if you like. A little catharsis is necessary. But you’ll have to watch her die… again.”
She pulled the blade back, winding up her swing. The subtle smile on that no longer familiar face deepened with amusement. Yuka pressed her teeth together, hard enough to break them, in a snarl, holding back her screams, yells, and sobs. Instead of bringing her blade down in front of her, across that soft and tender neck, she swung to the right and cleared the table with launched food and plates, letting loose an anguished cry that echoed through the room when no other sounds could.
The balls rolled especially far, tracing dark, messy stains in streaks of blackness across the once pristine white. The shattered ivory of the plates practically sublimated into the floor. With a final heave, Yuka sank to her knees, her blade drawn back in, both hands shielding her face. Each muffled sob echoed through Misaki as she desperately wished she was by her partner’s side. But would she slip away, slide back home, if they were too close, if they shared the same tears? She held back, despite the deeply throbbing pain in her soul. Instead of wrapping her arms around Yuka, she squeezed them to herself in the trembling hope that it might get through.
The screaming, dripping trajectory of the upturned meal was carefully aimed away from Misaki and towards the blank expanse around them, but a sliver of sauce splattered across Maharu’s sleeve. She brushed it off with familiar annoyance and snapped her fingers once more.
Not long after, a looming but slight figure passed through the turbulence of the wall and stepped forward with her arms tightly held behind her. Haruka, in the same gray yukata that blazed darkly against the blinding surroundings, stood before them, and asked simply, "Yes?"
Maharu finished her soup and gently set the cup on the table in front of her as the only item not overturned. “Your sister and her friend are tired. Please escort them to their accommodations for the evening.”
“Yes, blessed Goddess. I serve You with honor and pride.”
Misaki‘s mouth and stomach curled with disgust. “They are no goddess. They’re less than human.”
Maharu gave a terse chuckle. “Oh, I am a Goddess. A Goddess of humanity and transformation. The company I keep is responsible for so much, but I am responsible for your lives and livelihoods. Truly, you should consider me a Goddess. Why do you think goddesses are so emphasized in the lore of this land? They are my shadow in the world. Oh, and you’re welcome. For everything I’ve done for you. Get some rest; I’m sure you’ll both feel more amenable in the morning.”