Aster strode through the dim corridor in the after-dinner quiet, allowing herself a soft breath of relief at the faint sounds of guitar music. Lord Seiji’s door was no more soundproof than any other in North Watch, for all that he had the best room, and she’d been concerned about what she might hear. He was playing something upbeat, which meant he was in a good mood—ideal for her purposes. Different kinds of music could have indicated different kinds of awkward this conversation might be, never mind if he’d had Minifrit in there. Hell, if she’d stepped into this hall and found Biribo and Junko exiled from the room, she would’ve just put it off for another time.

And not just because of the awkwardness. Aster remained somewhat leery of Minifrit’s sly intellect, but she approved of what the woman was doing with Seiji. He badly needed to relax and vent, and nobody else had managed to unwind him at all.

She stopped right outside the door and folded her arms, waiting.

The music didn’t stop, but after a few seconds Seiji called out from inside. “C’mon in, Aster.”

Not having to knock was one of the surprising benefits of working for someone Blessed with Wisdom. Opening the door, she was greeted by Junko, who of course received her due in ear scratches before any other business began. The Dark Lord himself was perched on the foot of his bed, strumming away and looking…well, he never looked relaxed, but definitely on the lesser end of his sliding scale of tension. Not actively angry at anything in particular, which was about as good as it got. Behind him, Biribo flicked out his tongue at her in what she chose to interpret as a greeting.

“Nice,” Aster commented. “Y’know, the troops like it when you play in the mess hall after dinner. You should feel free to perform more often.”

“Trust me, Aster, I feel free to do whatever the fuck I want,” he lied with a grin, pausing his melody to strum a minor chord at her. “I felt like some quiet tonight. And you didn’t come here to chat about music, so what’s up?”

“Oh, y’know. I just can’t deny my passions anymore. Take me, you virile beast, you.”

He actually stopped playing, scrunching up his whole face as if swallowing an entire mouthful of pure sour syrup, and she cackled with glee.

“That’s magnificently fucking amusing, Aster. Now what the hell do you want? If you seriously just came here to bust my ass I’m demoting you to Donon’s assistant and putting Naz in charge of the troops.”

“That would be hilarious enough I’d almost want to see it if it wasn’t guaranteed to get everyone killed.” She’d never admit it to him in so many words, but it was just nice, working with and directly under a powerful man who had no sexual designs on her. Aster had felt briefly offended at first, and then again when he’d dispelled her theory that he might be gay by taking Minifrit to bed, but it had faded quickly. The world was full of men who found her pretty; sooner or later she’d find another who wasn’t an entitled creep about it. For now it was just…pleasant, having a relationship that was safe from all that noise. “No, but seriously, I need a word with you about Gilder.”

Seiji sighed and the song shifted entirely into minor key. “I’m sure this’ll be good. What’s he done now?”

“Right now, or at least a couple of minutes ago, he was in the kitchen having a healing slime applied to his face where Jadrin backhanded him into the wall.”

Instantly the music stopped and Seiji shot to his feet, scowling. “She did fucking what?” Junko growled, as usual reflecting his mercurial moods.

Aster folded her arms. “Gilder grabbed her ass—with both hands, apparently—and told her anything Sakin could do, he could do better.”

The revelation that Jadrin and Sakin had been boning had come as a surprise to basically everyone. Aster frankly doubted the relationship had been much more than a physical outlet, but even so Jadrin had been raw and even more volatile than usual since the cat tribe’s raid.

Seiji’s expression flashed through a series of rapid transformations. It was kind of amazing, how easy he was to read when his guard wasn’t up; the man didn’t seem to have a single thought that wasn’t displayed in its entirety on his face. According to him, the Japanese were a famously reserved and shy people with a cultural emphasis on social restraint. Aster figured he was either fibbing about that, or had made himself very unwelcome back home. Knowing him, either was plausible. When he went into performance mode, of course, it was like he became a whole different person, but in undefended moments like now? She got to watch in real time as he rapidly processed the exact blend of amusement, grudging approval, disgust and anger she’d have expected a man to feel about hearing this.

“That little shit,” he grumbled finally, sitting back down and placing the guitar in his lap again. “Well, good on Jadrin, then, sounds like he had that coming.”

“That is the universal consensus, yes, and Gannit took great pleasure in telling him so at length.”

“Why’s this require my attention, then? Sounds handled to me.”

“If that was the entire story, then yeah, I’d agree. But this is becoming a pattern. Gilder is a boy of…what, twelve? You know what that age is like. He’s surrounded by women who are mostly young adults, sexually experienced and…let’s call it outgoing. Once he discovered that they consider him too young to be a threat, he’s started pushing boundaries as far as they’ll go, doing shit that’d get him knifed if he were five years older. I’ve started getting complaints from the girls at a rate of at least once a day that he keeps making propositions or even trying to get handsy—and those are just the ones who’re pissed off by it. The rest just think it’s funny, which of course is only encouraging him. I just learned this afternoon the only reason he’s not managing to peep on the women’s bathing hour is because Benit and Aenit have been trading off days to spend the entire time hounding him away.”

Seiji blinked twice, looking vaguely annoyed but mostly nonplussed. “Huh. At this rate it sounds like somebody actually is gonna knife him.”

“Exactly.”

He shrugged and strummed a soothing chord. “And we’ve got healing slimes in almost every room now. I think that would be very educational for the brat. This sounds like a problem that’s on the way to solving itself. Again, what do you need me for?”

Aster heaved an irritated sigh. Hell’s revels, the man really had only two modes: needing to be hugged continuously for several days, and needing to be repeatedly kicked in the face. The problem was he was never going to let anybody do either of those. Well, one problem; the other was how often he managed to be both at once.

“Aside from the general fact that running this organization means putting a damper on disruptive elements? Seiji, he’s a kid. Gilder’s not a bad person, he just needs some damn guidance. Come on, you’ve seen how women get treated in this country. That doesn’t happen because men are inherently assholes, it happens because nobody explains to them what’s so shitty about this behavior while they’re still young enough to listen and care.”

He shrugged, mulishly refusing to meet her eyes and shifting from strumming chords into a complicated series of arpeggios, the way he always did to signal his attention was mostly on the music and not whoever was talking.

“So? Makes sense to me. Explain it to him, then. I bet Minifrit will if you don’t. I still don’t see why this is my problem. It’s not like I’m his dad.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course you are.”

The music aborted with a jangled half-chord as the Dark Lord stiffened, his whole face twisting up in a grimace of such alarmed revulsion that she couldn’t help breaking into a grin.

“Oh, un-clench your buttcheeks, nobody’s saying you’ve gotta tuck him in and kiss his little forehead. Leaving out the fact that he’ll listen to a man’s opinion over any woman’s, especially about this, it’s your opinion specifically he cares about. Those kids have had exactly two adults who bothered to take care of them in their whole lives, and the other one was using them for profit and got a bunch of ‘em killed on purpose. They all look up to you—and Gilder in particular is a ringleader among the kids because he’s been with you the longest. It matters a lot to him what you think and what you say, and the example you set for him will reach all the kids. Not just the Rats, but the other kids here who actually have parents. Setting an example here is important, Seiji, and you’re the one who’s gotta do it.”

He drew in a long, deep, excessively dramatic breath and blew it out. “Fine, I see your point. But! Just for the record: not his dad.”

“I don’t care if that’s what you choose to tell yourself,” she retorted, smiling. “So long as you actually do the job. ‘Cause if you don’t you will never stop hearing about it from me.”

“You are a pain in the ass,” he accused, standing up and setting aside the guitar.

“That’s why you need me.”

----------------------------------------

He sulked all the way to the kitchen. With Junko trotting at his heels and Biribo buzzing along behind, Seiji walked in a constant slouch, scowling at nothing and intermittently muttering to himself in annoyance. Aster just watched him sidelong, not bothering to conceal her own smile. As such she got to see the exact moment when he slipped into performance mode, as they entered the corridor from the mess hall to the kitchen. Suddenly he straightened up, his posture relaxing and his stride lengthening into a casual, confident amble.

Aster fell behind with the animals, taking no offense in it. Biribo, for all that he was a bottomless fount of information at times, had a tendency to go quiet and deliberately make himself unobtrusive when his master was dealing with matters that didn’t require exposition about life on Ephemera. She had actually found that taking cues from him in this made her a better bodyguard. Maybe not more effective, but more discreet, and she knew from her experiences working for the King’s Guild that that was an important part of the job.

“Wow, it’s a whole party in here,” Seiji commented idly as he breezed through the kitchen, heading right for the pantry door. Of the actual kitchen staff, Gannit was the only one still here, putting away the last dishes. Gilder himself still sat at the kitchen table with a small bowl of fruit porridge in front of him. Little bastard had managed to leverage sympathy over his black eye even from those who knew he deserved it; he was going to be a real terror when he grew up. The surprising addition was Minifrit, who was perched at one end of the table, smoking.

“It is now,” Gannit retorted, even more acerbically than usual. “Come on, I just got everything put away. What do you want? And why do you keep bringing that damn dog into my kitchen?”

“I think you mean my kitchen,” corrected the Dark Lord, ducking into the pantry. His voice emerged from within, accompanied by more rustling and thumping than would actually be necessary to find anything. The man just couldn’t not create a spectacle, it was like a disease. “The damn dog has a name, by the way. She also likes treats and headpats, don’t you, Aster?”

“You know I’m not gonna rise to the bait,” Aster replied, lounging against the wall by the door. “I’m just gonna kick the back of your knee when you’re not expecting it.”

Seiji re-emerged with a wine bottle in his hand, and shot her a grin before pointing it accusingly at Minifrit. “Anyway, you don’t get to complain about Junko when you’re letting this one smoke in here.”

Minifrit blew a cloud at him, which he waved away with an angry motion, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah, well, fair enough,” Gannit grumbled. “At least one of these bitches is trainable. Sit!”

Junko did so, tail wagging eagerly, and Gannit tossed her a chunk of stewed crawn from the pot of leftovers still simmering over the banked fire.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Is there something wrong with the bottles you’ve already squirreled away in your room, my Lord?” Minifrit drawled.

“My kitchen,” Seiji repeated, seating himself at the table with them. “I’ll do what I want. That’s quite a shiner, Gilder. I hear you deserved that one.”

Gilder scowled, leaning to one side to look past him at the door. “Nobody likes a tattletale, Aster.”

“That just isn’t true,” she said mildly. “Lots of people like tattletales. Pretty much anybody who’s in charge, in fact. Now, you know what nobody likes? A groper.”

“Oh, come on, she way overreacted!” Gilder protested. “It was just a little flirting! That wench is just too high-strung. If anybody needs to relax and joke around a bit, it’s Jadrin. But you can’t expect ‘em to be reasonable. Women, am I right, Lord Seiji?”

He grinned up at the Dark Lord, then dissolved into a coughing fit as Minifrit blew a long streamer of smoke directly into his face. She had excellent breath control.

“Hmf.” Seiji took a long swig directly from the bottle, then lowered it and glared at the label. “God help me, I’m actually starting to like this sour shit. I will never forgive this country.”

“Only you could manage to be grumpy about learning not to be grumpy,” Minifrit commented.

“Can’t believe you let her talk to you like that,” Gilder said, the grin returning. “I guess she must be pretty good in bed, huh, Lord Seiji?”

“You shut your little mouth,” Seiji snapped, abruptly turning the full force of his glare on the boy.

Gilder instantly wilted, jerking back as if struck. Even Aster was surprised; Seiji was usually orders of magnitude more gentle with the kids than everyone else. She had never heard him speak that sharply to any of them, for any reason. From across the room, Gannit grunted something indistinct, while Minifrit simply raised an eyebrow and took a drag.

Seiji had another long swig, deliberately holding Gilder’s eyes with his own and letting the excruciating silence stretch out until the bow started to literally squirm.

“Tell me, Gilder,” he said finally. “How’s the hunting been?”

“The…you mean crawns?”

“Girls,” Seiji clarified. “I hear tell you’ve been going pretty hard at it with everybody you can catch. How bout it? Managed to nail any of ‘em yet?”

“Oh!” Gilder straightened up, putting on the grin again, and opened his mouth.

“And before you tell me any self-aggrandizing lies,” Seiji interrupted with perfect timing, “let me clarify that if I find there’s a goddamn pedophile in my organization, she’s getting taken out back and shot. I am assuming, here, that you’re enough of a man not to want to put a pretty girl in that situation for the sake of your own ego.”

Gilder stilled, his smile turning sickly for a moment before he rallied and managed an ostentatiously casual shrug. “Well, I mean… You know. It’s not like… Hey, I’m just a kid here, yeah? It’s just a little harmless fun. Some flirting makes ‘em feel good and doesn’t get anybody in trouble. Unless they’re crazy, like Jadrin.”

“Ah, right. Cos they don’t take you seriously. I bet you can get away with a lot that way, huh?”

“You know it!” he grinned.

“Why?”

Gilder blinked twice in confusion while Seiji took another long sip of the sour red. “Why…do I enjoy…not getting slapped? Is that a trick question?”

“Course it is,” Seiji said, grinning. “I assume you would like to get laid at some point, when you are actually old enough to pull it off. Flirting is a skill, you know. There’s an art to it. Talent helps, but in the end it’s like any skill: takes practice and technique. So what you’re doing now is teaching yourself a style and approach that will specifically stop working as soon as you’re old enough to actually get anywhere with it. What’s the big idea with that?”

Gilder actually looked gobsmacked, mouth hanging open as he visibly wrestled with this new idea.

“I did pretty well, back in Tokyo,” Seiji mused, smiling reminiscently at the wall, his eyes far away. “Course, I dunno how helpful my example would be for you. Being the frontman of a rock group, doing the club scene…that’s practically cheating. You still have to work at it—it’s not like you can just strum a guitar and expect groupies to come running. But, if you’ve got the basic skill to be charming enough for one evening, starting out on stage as the center of everyone’s attention is the perfect in. Picking your target and opening is half the battle, anyway. Being able to scan the whole crowd, spot the ones who’re giving you puppy eyes and make the approach from a position of power? You’re halfway done when you start.”

“Disregarding whatever the hell rock, clubs and groupies are,” Minifrit added, “that is actually solid advice. The combination of musical ability and social skills is deadly. Every time an actual bard would come into my establishment I’d have to watch him like a hawk; they were annoyingly adept at shmoozing girls out of their dresses.”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started,” Gannit groused. “Even veteran whores who should goddamn well know better would fall for that. Fucking bards, it’s like a sport to them. Tell you what, kiddo, if you wanna get some actual play instead of just being an annoying little shit, start by learning an instrument.”

“Then you can be a really annoying little shit,” Aster said in her driest tone.

“See what I mean?” Seiji winked at Gilder, who was now hanging breathlessly off his every word. “Course, like I said, the music is just your opener. I knew plenty of musically talented nerds who couldn’t even talk to women; you still have to be charming. Know what to say, and when, and how to work somebody’s emotions. Am I right?”

“Central pillars of a whore’s craft, as well,” Minifrit agreed. “Small wonder we had the most trouble from the relatively few men who were able to use it against us. If every man bothered to learn those skills, we’d never have had a business.”

“There’s also the bro code to consider,” Seiji continued, his smile fading. “For example, you never interfere with a friend’s game. By, among the many ways you could do that, bringing up bedroom matters with his girl out of context, right in front of her.”

Silence fell as three of them fixed Gilder with the full force of their disapproval: Seiji with a flat stare, Gannit folding her skinny arms and looking unamused, Minifrit loftily arching one eyebrow and looking down her nose. Aster was afraid she’d ruin it with her own grinning, but fortunately Gilder was too occupied withering in his seat to even look over at her.

“That is the kind of shit that ends male friendships,” Seiji continued after a pause for truly cruel effect. “Not to mention gets teeth punched out.”

“Sorry,” Gilder mumbled. “I didn’t mean any… I was just goofin’.”

Seiji finally relented, his face softening into a smile, and reached over to ruffle the kid’s hair. “Relax, I’m not gonna punch you. Yeah, obviously, you didn’t know better. That’s exactly how you’ve been getting away with a lot of shit, Gilder. Have you ever paused to consider the implications of that?”

“Aw, man,” he groaned. “There are implications? I hate implications.”

“Don’t we all,” Aster murmured.

“I once heard something that stuck with me,” Seiji mused, frowning. “The context doesn’t exactly translate… Hey, Biribo, what’s a local equivalent of a locker room?”

“What the hell is a locker room?” the familiar demanded.

“Oh, I know.” Seiji turned his attention back to Gilder. “You should never say anything to a woman on the street that you wouldn’t want another man saying to you in a bathhouse, and for the exact same reason.”

“What?” Still smiling, Gilder snorted dismissively. “What does that even—”

Suddenly Seiji had leaned over and into his space, draping an arm around the lad’s shoulders and squeezing him close, an overtly menacing leer plastered onto his face. “Hey, there, cute thing,” he cooed. “That’s a sweet little butt you got there. Bet I can think of a good use for it. Whaddaya say?”

Gilder had gone completely rigid, eyes bulging in shock and revulsion. Even Minifrit blinked at that; Gannit, meanwhile, had dissolved into howls of derisive laughter. Aster had to envy her relaxed attitude. She herself, even knowing what was going on, felt instinctively queasy and had to repress an urge to charge across the room and physically intervene.

Seiji only gave it a moment to sink in, though, before releasing Gilder and moving back out of his personal space. He took another long swig of wine, his expression distant, and spoke up again in a quieter tone after a few long seconds in which Gilder sat there stunned into silence.

“And then there’s context to consider. Women have to go through life without the means to defend themselves against shit like that, and the full knowledge that nobody from the police to the courts will have their back if they try to address any grievances through the system. They’re constantly having that stuff done to them—that, and much, much worse. The comments and the grabbing usually lead directly to the ‘much worse’ if the asshole doing it thinks he has the opportunity. And there’s straight up nothing they can do about it, most of the time. The world is their bathhouse. So those implications, Gilder? The fact that you get away with this shit because you’re young enough that it’s non-threatening? That means, by definition, that once you’re no longer a kid, it is very fucking threatening.”

Seiji watched the boy from the corner of his eye, sipping wine, while Gilder’s eyes widened and his face lengthened as he silently processed all that, putting those implications together in his own mind. Ever the master of dramatic timing, Seiji gave him just long enough for it to sink in before delivering the surprise gut punch.

“For somebody who knows what it’s like to be powerless and vulnerable, putting someone else in that position is a really shitty thing to do.”

Gilder flinched, physically, his face crumpling. He had to clear his throat twice before speaking hoarsely.

“Wow. I’m an asshole, huh.”

“You and me both, kid,” Seiji murmured, staring at the wall and taking a bigger gulp of wine. “We should work on that.”

Aster, watching Gilder’s increasingly shamed expression, decided this had gone far enough. The idea was to teach the boy a lesson, not torture him.

“I think it’d be a good first step for you to apologize to some people,” she stated. “Starting with Jadrin.”

“Jadrin?” Gilder looked up at her, grimacing in sudden panic. “That crazy— If I go near her right now, she’ll kick my ass!”

“Perhaps,” Minifrit said idly. “Do you deserve to have your ass kicked, maybe?”

“I think you might be surprised,” said Aster. “Obviously don’t push it if she tells you to fuck off, which she might. Goddess knows she’s under no obligation to listen to you. But take it from somebody who’s fucked up a few times, Gilder: you’ll feel better if you at least try.”

He screwed his whole face up in an expression that reminded her strikingly of Lord Seiji just a few minutes ago. Not for the first time, Aster inwardly despaired at the Dark Lord’s truly inexplicable combination of cunning and obtuseness. It seemed like he honestly had no idea what a role model he was to the kids and especially Gilder.

“Yeah, well…” Heaving an enormous sigh, Gilder finally hopped down from his chair, abandoning his half-eaten porridge. That was a big deal for a Gutter Rat; they never took food for granted. He trudged toward the door, pausing next to Aster to look up at her, and then glance back at the others. “I guess…”

After opening and closing his mouth twice, mutely, Gilder just hunched his shoulders and slouched out into the hall.

“Godspeed, soldier,” Seiji said solemnly.

“So,” Minifrit commented after the boy’s footsteps had receded into the distance. “You and him both?”

“Come on, it’s not like I ever molested anybody in the train,” he grumbled, scowling. “I’m not an animal. You heard what I said, I never had trouble getting girls the aboveboard way.”

She smiled knowingly and propped her chin on one hand, leaning toward him in expectant silence.

Seiji shrugged and avoided her look, drinking again before speaking. “Japan’s nothing like here.”

“You may have mentioned that,” Aster said solemnly. “Once or twice. Non-stop, every chance you get, for months.”

“What I mean is, you can’t mistreat women there the way people do in Dlemathlys,” he snapped. “Shit that’s apparently normal here would get a person jailed in Japan, and good riddance to ‘em. Still, it’s not exactly… I mean, I wouldn’t call it a…sexually egalitarian country.”

Minifrit blew a puff of smoke to the side. “So, of course, you have never raped anyone. Or even groped someone? Flashed them? Catcalled?”

“I just said I didn’t,” he said irritably. “Come on, give me a little credit.”

“I am,” she replied, still smiling. “And now you feel guilty because you’ve gone through your life treating women exactly as badly as was socially acceptable where you lived, and suddenly the context of a place where what’s socially acceptable is different tells you exactly what that means. Tell me, Lord Seiji, among all those girls you nailed in the Tokyo club scene… Did you show any of them any real care? Or respect?”

“I never hurt anyone!” he protested.

“I believe you,” she replied, still outwardly calm. “But you did something, or this wouldn’t be bothering you now.”

Minifrit was, herself, pretty good with the dramatic timing. She gave him a moment to welter in it, taking a long draw from her pipe and exhaling a spicy sweet cloud before following up.

“If you’re seeking absolution, you’ll get none from me. Life is not hard for women in Fflyr Dlemathlys because of a few terrible men who go out of their way to be more cruel and vile than the average. It is hard because most men do exactly what they can get away with and never consider why it might be wrong. It sounds to me like the difference between you in Tokyo and some of the brutes you’ve executed here is what you were respectively allowed to pull off. Just because— Really?”

Her soliloquy was brought to a halt by Gannit crossing the room and bonking her on the head with a frying pan. To relatively little effect; it was a gentle bonk, as bonks went, and mostly absorbed by Minifrit’s pinned-up hair.

“You just calm your tits, girl,” the old woman ordered, brandishing the pan as if for a follow-up strike. “Getting on the boy’s case for being no better or worse than anyone anywhere is just about the stupidest thing I can imagine doing. He came here, saw what was up, and has been making it better, as best he can. What the hell else do you want? This oughta be encouraged, not bitched at.”

“Yes, well… I suppose that’s also true,” Minifrit agreed, finally smiling with a bit more warmth and reaching across to squeeze Seiji’s hand. “We have all of us done miserable things, and we all had our reasons. I see you doing your best to help, and that should matter most.”

“Yeah, I can easily see you being a little shit when you could get away with it,” Gannit added, condescendingly ruffling Seiji’s hair on her way back to the cabinets. “Not like you can do anything about that now, though. Past is past, and you’re doin’ better. Cheer up, kid, you done good.”

“You handled Gilder quite well,” Aster agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, as parental talks go that was unnecessarily roundabout and occasionally horrifying, but it certainly seemed to work. Made more of an impact on him than I even hoped, at least.”

“Parental, nothing,” Seiji insisted, scowling and trying to smooth his hair back into place. “I’m not his dad.”

“Tell yourself that, if it helps you,” Minifrit said sweetly.

“I hate you all,” the Dark Lord complained.

“You love us all,” Aster retorted, smirking. “Don’t worry, Lord Seiji, we love you too.”

Having studied his own example, she now gave it just the right two beats of pause before landing the parting shot.

“And yet… Still don’t wanna bang you.”

The Dark Lord gaped at her for a second, and then burst out laughing.