Chapter Forty-Three - Nothing But Cuddles

“Ain’t no one getting between me and my cuddle time! Uwu.”

--Quote attributed to Neon Girl Happy-Chan, 2029

***

I woke up feeling both warm and content. It didn’t take long to realize why.

Lucy was turned on her side, wedged between me and the edge of the couch. She had a hand pressed under her chin, which squished her cheek up, and her other hand was balled into a fist over my chest.

I shifted my leg just a little, and Lucy shifted in turn, her own leg moving up and down, soft skin against mine. She was snoring, and it wasn’t the cute kind of snore that the girls in the movies had.

I smiled and leaned my head over to peck her on the forehead. She didn’t react at all, entirely oblivious to the world at large.

That was fine. I tugged the blanket she’d covered us in higher so that it was tucked up near her neck and settled in to wait. I was trapped, of course,and there was no escaping this one--not that I wanted to.

I didn’t want to speak aloud; that might wake Lucy up, and that would be a sin. So I took some pictures of her face, line of drool and squished cheeks and all, and saved them for later. Blackmail was always handy to have.

Opening a messenger app with my augs, I sent a message to Myalis. “Hey. Any news on the stuff?”

How very eloquently put. Yes, there has been some news about the conditions and changes with regards to the stuff.

I let out a huff of laughter before replying. “Cute. Did Longbow and Deus Ex reply? Any news from Gomorrah?”

You received replies from both. Neither were visual or audible though. Do you wish to see the replies?

“Sure,” I sent.

A new box appeared before me, my augs printing it on the air.

“The situation with the sewers is a problem, but it’s not as critical as other issues we have. I’ll send what you sent me to the Family. They’ll put some pressure on the city to fix things. I’m too busy to interfere myself. Take care of it.

-Deus Ex”

“Fucking callous little pipsqueak, isn’t she?” I asked.

She has proven her worth as a vanguard. I trust that her claims of currently working on more pressing concerns are truthful.

“Hmm,” I hummed. Lucy moved her head up and tucked it in the nook of my neck, so I tilted my head down and rested my cheek on the poofy mess that was her hair. “Alright, so that’s one avenue that’s basically gone. The Family thing might help, but the mayor’s a cunt so I doubt it. What did Longbow say?”

Displaying now.

Deus Ex’s reply minimized and was replaced by a longer one.

“Stray Cat

Hey little sister, heard you had fun playing in the mud. Digging the Two Girls One Flamer memes, by the way. Not too sure if I can help much. I’m spread a bit thin as is, and I don’t know if I want to concentrate that many resources in one city. Still, I think I can help in another way.

There’s a politician who’s not that much of a twat (I know, they’re all twats to one degree or another) who could probably use the kind of boost that comes from having a friendly samurai breathing down his neck. He’s not an idiot, and I think he might actually mean well.

His name’s Jeff Burringham. Bit of a narcissist upper-crust type. Ivy league, rich parents, you know the sort. Still, my psych profiles suggest that he does want to help, if only to make himself look better.

I’ll send him a small intro. He’s going to be running against the mayor in a bit. He might have the clout to fix your problem.

Also, I gave a call to Peter Silverbloom. He runs a non-profit. He might be able to help with your ex-Sewer Dragons.

XOXO

The best big bro,

-Longbow”

“Huh,” I said. “Can you add those two to my contacts? Once I’m, ah, free, I’ll give them a call... actually, before that, do you have anything on either of them?”

I do. Longbow seems to have extensive security systems in place across a few cities. These have been set to surveil Jeff Burringham in order to create a full psychological profile. He sent this profile along with the man’s contact information.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“That seems a bit excessive,” I wrote.

He is a normal human citizen trying to enter the political spectrum with the assistance of some vanguard. It is only properly cautious that a vanguard would verify such a person’s past and present.

A bit much in my opinion, but I wasn’t going to stop Longbow from doing what he wanted, especially not when it served me just fine. “So, what’s the profile say about Jeff boy?”

To summarize, he is educated in politics and has had life-long ties with the leadership of several mid-sized corporations. He has lived a life mostly devoid of major hardships, but has nonetheless developed some empathy for those currently facing greater difficulty. An uncommon trait among the more privileged.

“So he’s a good guy?”

Relatively.

I nodded, cheek rubbing against Lucy’s head. “Okay. Do you think he can help?

You are ill-suited to solve the issues you currently wish to solve, not without a great shift in your future plans and ambitions. You also lack the contacts to press society itself towards solving its own issues. Currently, Jeff Burringham might be more capable than you are in this situation if given the proper incentive.

“Does Jeff’s profile have his schedule for tomorrow... no, later today,” I wrote. A quick glance at the time revealing that it was morning already, though still very early in the AM.

It does. He currently has several activities on his itinerary, though this afternoon is meant to be used for clothes shopping at a specific mall.

“Let’s crash that,” I said. “I want to meet him. What about the other dude?”

Peter Silverbloom. His profile isn’t as deep, though he does have a public record. He is a noted activist and philanthropist. He had founded several non-profits, and been a member of dozens. His history as a volunteer stretches back to when he was an older teenager. He was responsible for the social-outreach club at Lawson’s All Girl’s Academy.

“Sounds way too good to be true,” I wrote back. “Also, all girl?”

He was a woman then.

“Okay. Still too good to be true.”

Good folk existed. We had a few at the orphanage who were genuinely nice people who really did seem to only want to help. But they were the exception, the one-percent.

“Send him a message to call me sometime later,” I sent. “We can chat. Does he have any organization that might help the Sewer Dragons?”

He does run a non-profit that raises funds to purchase cybernetics for victims of street crimes. It is likely that they would assist individuals who were kidnapped by the Sewer Dragons and forcibly modified. From the public records available though, it is exceptionally unlikely that the organization would be able to assist the number of people who were rescued.

“Yeah, figures,” I wrote. I sighed and cuddled closer to Lucy, mostly because that was my favourite way to get rid of any lingering negative thoughts.

I closed my eyes, and zoned out for a moment. When I opened them again it was with a heavy yawn. Somehow an hour had slipped past.

“Gomorrah,” I wrote.

Has expressed a desire to speak when you have the time to do so. She has also noted that the people you have saved are currently secure and housed at the church where she resides. The accommodations can last some time before they will need to begin addressing the issue of the survivors being rehabilitated and returned to their previous lives.

The folk there were probably just happy that an actual samurai was looking into things. But that happiness wouldn’t last if no one gave them a proper solution.

“Can you remind me to call Gomorrah later?” I wrote.

Added to your agenda for the day.

I chuckled. Me, having an agenda. It sounded like a joke. Still... “Thank you, Myalis,” I whispered.

You’re welcome, Catherine. You should sleep some more, you have a busy day ahead of you.

I nodded and ignored the way my arm was tingling after having Lucy’s weight on it for so long, and I shifted so that I could wrap my other arm around her in a protective hug.

“Thanks,” I muttered again.

***