Tokyo, beautiful Tokyo. It seemed forever since he’d seen the forest of skyscrapers. He couldn’t wait to go home. Sure it was a tiny apartment, but it was arguably his home turf. His bed was there, his shower was there.
A normal apartment, a normal job, a normal life. It was all a facade, of course, but it wasn’t against the law to live a facade and try to believe that it was real.
He wanted a cold beer, but nobody wanted a drunk magician, so he went up to the roof of his apartment complex and imagined he could see the stars, drinking his soda.
No intoxicants. He couldn’t drink, do any drugs, and technically couldn’t even smoke. Even Travis wanted to smoke, he wanted it so much that he’d tuck a cigarette in his mouth without lighting it from time to time.
He had drank a little beer on his date with... what was her name? He wondered what sort of punishment would come down the line for that little slipup, and when it would fall.
He’d report to his boss in the morning. For the time being, sleep.
He knew he was dreaming. Once again he was in the infinite sea of flames. This time, however, his chest was on fire. It seared, burning, a pain that was limitless as the ocean of flame, a pain hotter and deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. He screamed and silvery-white flames roared up invisible walls to the ebon sky of nothingness and burned in an infinite spiraling cone of flame that went up and up and up into the limitless black. He screamed and tore at his chest with his hands, it seemed as though his breath was as infinite as the sea of arcana as the platinum fires roared up and up and up.
“Get the sedative! Hurry!”
He blinked at the voice and opened his eyes. He was laying in bed, in his apartment.
He looked down at himself. His t-shirt was shredded and there were nail-marks in his skin.
He sat up and looked around his apartment. Everything was dim; apparently night had fallen? He couldn’t remember what day it was. He pawed through his things, located his smartphone and discovered he’d slept a day through completely.
There was a brisk knock at his door. He opened it, and a short man frowned up at him, holding up a badge.
“I’m from the Taskforce.” He growled. “There was a spike of magical power here an hour ago.” He stated flatly, forcing his way into the apartment. He waved his hand scanner over Derek and grunted; whether the results were good or bad, he didn’t say.
“I was asleep then.” Derek replied.
“No shit.” The man replied. “We know that already.”
Derek grimaced at this pronouncement as the agent ran over his belongings with the scanner. “What’d you do? Did you have a dream, or something?”
“I don’t remember.” he replied honestly. It didn’t pay to fuck around with the Agency.
“Nothing’s damaged or broken...” the man mused, and then picked up Derek’s tattered shirt. “You do this?”
Derek nodded.
“Dream?”
“Probably.” Derek replied.
“There might be a review board. You know the rules: No magic when you’re not on a Hunt.” He sneered up at Derek. “Even when dreaming.”
“I know the rules.” Derek replied with a grimace.
“We got our eyes on you.” The man replied, glaring balefully up at Derek, and then stalked out, not even bothering to close the door.
Derek eyeballed the food in his fridge and decided to chuck it all. How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? It had probably gone bad. He tossed it all and took it out to the trash, ran back upstairs, grabbed his wallet and keys and drove to the supermarket, where he stocked up on daily necessities, then set off for Demmy’s. It was time to go to work.
His boss, the manager gave him the policewoman’s card. Ah. Misaki. That was her name. Was she still suspecting that he was involved in the disappearance case?
He called her up on her break, expecting a voicemail.
“Yes, Hello?”
“This is Derek, from Demmy’s.”
“Ah. Now I have your number.” Her voice carried a certain smugness to it.
“Huh?” He replied, confused.
“Nothing.” She replied.
He frowned, trying to figure out what the point of her conversation was.
“Do you use LIME?”
“Ugh. I have it, but don’t really use it-” he began, but she cut him off.
“Tell me your ID.” He relayed it to her after a moment. “Great. I’ll send you an invite later. Do you like batting cages?”
“I- what?” He struggled to follow the thread of her conversation.
“There’s a batting cage that’s open late nights. Bring a swimsuit.”
A swimsuit? What did that have to do with anything? What did it have to with a batting cage?
“You’re confusing me more and more. What about that girl?”
“Girl? What girl? Huh?” She replied, and then her voice brightened. “Ah, that one. She was with her boyfriend the whole time. Wasn’t a big deal. I’ll pick you up at the end of my shift.” She hung up after that.
Derek stared at his phone with a baffled expression.
The fuck was that? There was no part of that conversation that made any sense.
A few moments later, his phone bleeped with a LIME invitation. He accepted it, and then shut his phone off and began his shift, wiping down counters, mopping floors, falling back into the comfortable rhythm of his job as if he’d never left.
Yeah. He definitely enjoyed this job over his other job. The expectations were much lower, and he was able to lose himself in the comfortable repetitiveness of his responsibilities.
A young girl sat up from where she slept, sharp-eyed with a stern, stoic expression on her face. She wasn’t certain why she’d been awakened; she just understood that she’d been awakened for a reason.
She sat up and examined her surroundings, which made no sense to her.
Why was she here?
What was this place?
What was the last thing she remembered?
Ah. A call from her Master. She wasn’t certain who her master was, but she was certain that he needed her.
She eased herself off the odd table she’d been laying on, and closed her eyes. Where was her Master now?
There was no sense of who or where he was, just a sense that he was near.
She was certain she could find him. It was inevitable.
She produced a ribbon from her Shrine maiden’s outfit, and tied her hair in a high ponytail and turned in a slow circle as she tried to figure out which direction he was in.
Ah. That way.
Ignoring everything else around her, she began walking towards the feeling that her master was located. She would find him and serve him however she was required.
In the private collection of a certain private collector, a certain ancient sword vanished without triggering any of the alarms, trips, or sensors.
Magical sensors, however recorded a young girl, aged somewhere between ten and twelve appearing in a traditional kimono and hakama of a temple shrine maiden, sitting upright, sliding off the table, looking around, tying up her neatly composed hair, turning in a slow circle, and then walking away with a firm step and and an icy expression on her sharp, stern face.
Misaki showed up at the end of his shift, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for him to finish carrying trash out of the restaurant.
“You’re slow.” She complained.
“Well, this whole thing was quite unexpected.” He rebutted. It wasn’t a complaint, merely a statement of fact, but that drew a faint line between her brows.
“Am I to assume that you didn’t bring a swimsuit with you, either?”
Derek gave her a curious look. “Who brings a swimsuit to work?”
The line grew between her brows.
She did.
There was a swimming pool near her station that she’d negotiated the use of after her shifts, which usually extended into the evenings.
He cleared his throat a little. “Even if I had, don’t you think it’s a bit sudden? I wasn’t expecting to go swimming with you immediately after the end of my shift. Your call was quite sudden, after all.”
She frowned at that, but nodded once, curtly.
“After I’m done, I’ll bike home and pick up what I need-”
“I’ll drive you home. Your bike will probably fit in the trunk.” She announced curtly.
His confusion increased at this straightforward declaration and he considered his options. She was being pretty forceful about this.
Was it something he’d said? Did? They’d had only one date, and a trip to a hotel for a bounce. Had she somehow decided that they were a couple based off of that?
...Well, it wasn’t a terrible idea, but relationships were strictly monitored by the Oversight Committee. He’d have to inevitably tell her about his circumstances.
What would her reaction be when she realized she had been pursuing a Mage?
He shouldn’t have chatted her up. This was his fault.
He treated her to a date; he’d let her treat him to one, and then he’d tell her. Even-steven. He nodded to himself.
Fair.
He thought she would wait in the car; instead, she followed him up to his apartment and inside.
Ugh.
His Hunter equipment was placed in their cases, locked up and tucked against the wall; the only thing he hadn’t done was tuck them into his closet.
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“This is a small place.” She observed when he turned on the light.
“It’s all I need.” He replied simply.
“Same.” She replied, glancing around curiously. “My father keeps insisting that I should get a bigger place, but I like the place I have.” She stood in the middle of the room and looked around curiously. “You don’t have a TV?”
“I watch what I need to watch on my laptop.” He replied while rooting around for a swimsuit, and she nodded.
Well, she didn’t seem to be particularly judgemental...?
He tossed his swimsuit into a shoulder bag, and then went into the bathroom to fetch a towel.
“No need for a towel; I brought enough for the both of us.” She called, and he froze. Why would she do that? It seemed weird to him.
“Just a swimsuit is fine.” She confirmed. “Grab it and come on, the cages are waiting.”
He grabbed his wallet, keys, phone, swimsuit, and a spare set of clothing to wear home, dumped them into a shoulder bag, and gestured at the door. She nodded, and they set off.
In the car, as she negotiated traffic adroitly, she finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry I was ... forceful. I keep getting told by others that I should tone it down, but I don’t know how.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have any advice for you. Just be you, and we’ll see how it goes.”
She nodded crisply.
The batting cages were an arguable win for him; he was able to hit most of the balls that were fired at him fairly well. She wasn’t able to match his hits, but made up for it in the power of her swings. He was confident that any team would love to scout her; the balls she was able to hit were registered as “home runs” by the machine that graded her hits.
He hit more balls than she did, but that was the results of his training; he was used to quickly spotting and shooting monsters that were small and agile that came at him from all sorts of directions. His major handicap was that he wasn’t using a gun, but instead a baseball bat.
“Not bad.” she complimented, mopping sweat from her face and neck.
He gave her a shrug and took off his outer shirt; his inner shirt was discolored with sweat stains. “I think I should come here more often if I plan on going against you again.” he replied. “I got more hits, but you definitely racked up a higher score. I’m impressed; you’ve got some power behind those swings.”
She laughed at that, blushing a little.
“Sooo, on to the pool next, I’m guessing?” he asked as she began packing up her gear.
She nodded without turning around.
He sighed. “Any chance of a rest, first? Maybe a cold drink?”
She straightened. “You can rest in the car. And we can grab a drink at the counter on the way out.”
He gave her a bleak look; she was like the Terminator: relentless, unstoppable, and always on the move.
“Any reason why you’re so... active?” He asked as they climbed into her sedan.
She barked a laugh. “When I was in school I was always accused of eating too much fatty foods. I never got fat because I was always restless; I couldn’t feel comfortable unless I was moving my body around. Now that I’m a police officer, I spend time at the gym or the batting cages or at the pool.” She replied simply. “It’s fun and I burn calories.”
He nodded. His jobs- either as part of Core Hunters, or as a janitor at Demmy’s- didn’t require a lot of physical strength, but they did require a degree of focus and training.
When he was younger, he had to do several trips through ‘basic training’ in various parts of the world so that he would be able to do his job in various climates, but once Core Hunters was based in Japan, it wasn’t necessary to keep up with the Spartan training regimen. While he was no longer as strong as he’d used to be, he still had his focus and diligence necessary to do his job efficiently.
In the locker room, as he changed into his swimsuit, he realized how drained he was. Misaki was relentless. How long did she expect to swim in the pool? They’d spent an hour in the batting cages before she’d stopped, was she expecting to swim for an hour as well?
He could reinforce his stamina with magic, but there was a problem with that: There were magical detectors and drones scattered all over the city.
If he so much as used his magic to do the tiniest thing, he’d be pulled before the Oversight Committee faster than he could change out of his swimsuit. The only time magic was allowed to be used was when the PMCs or military were on a Dungeon Hunt.
He sat on the bench and closed his eyes, slipping into a meditative state. He adjusted his breathing, calmed his racing heart. His magic was there, too, beckoning. He ignored it. He was used to ignoring it. There was very little he could do with it anyway, there was no point in reaching out to it.
Calm down. Relax. He could get through this. He was a professional Hunter. She was a cop. There was a fundamental difference between the two of them. She hunted criminals, he killed monsters. There was no way she could outmatch him.
He was ready.
He stood up and closed the locker.
Being the only person in the locker room in a public pool late at night was kind of creepy, but he’d been in worse situations.
He wandered out to the pool, and watched her go through a series of stretching exercises briskly. She really was indomitable.
She stopped when she saw him, reaching down to her towel for her glasses. She slipped them on and peered at him.
“Tattoos?” She asked, causing him to glance down at himself. Oh right. The japanese had a thing against tattoos.
“Hmm? Yeah. I got them when I was younger, before I came to Japan.” He replied.
She strode over to him- god, she was graceful, even just walking- and eyed the barcode on his left arm, and the simple line art that resembled circuitry that started at his shoulder and sheathed his arm from shoulder to wrist.
“It looks like... electronic wires?” She mused, prodded it with a fingertip.
He nodded. “That’s right. I was... sort of rebellious when I was younger, when I got this. Everyone was disappointed in me.”
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t mind it.” she decided, and pointed at the pool. “Let’s go!”
It was worse than he realized. She was unstoppable, arms churning, legs scissoring in the water. She swam like she was racing; he decided that he’d take his time and enjoy the swim. After all, he didn’t get many opportunities to enjoy a swim like this. The pool was dimly lit, and completely empty except for him and Misaki.
He rolled over on his back and floated, idly kicking with his feet, pushing himself with his hands.
Suddenly she popped up next to him, jolting him from his relaxation.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” He replied, watching the glass ceiling. Was there a drone up there right now, peeking down through the glass? Or was there an agent perhaps lurking nearby with a camera armed with a magical sensor pointed right at them?
“Are you enjoying yourself?” She asked.
“Are you kidding?” He replied. “I’m having the greatest time in the world.” He steadied himself by putting his hand on her shoulder, which caused her to blush. “I don’t often get to swim like this.” He added, and took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m... glad.” She replied, and dragged her finger down one of his scars, a gift from a monster cat that he’d had to deal with a couple of years back in Hokkaido.
She eyed him awkwardly, as if she had something to say, but didn’t know how to say it. He lifted his head to be safe; yep, his trunks were on, they hadn’t slipped off.
“What is it?” He asked quietly.
“Can we... go to your place?” She asked quietly. “My place is...” She shook her head. “A mess.” She rolled her eyes. “And my dad will find out.”
“You think he’ll kill me?” Derek asked, letting his feet sink.
“Probably.” She replied. “Or at least deported.”
“That’s a problem.” Derek replied, and she nodded.
“Yeah, sure.” He replied. “I don’t mind.”
You stopped caring about being watched all the time after the first five years or so.
He was awakened several hours later with her, fully dressed, holding her gun on him.
“You have guns here? These- all of these- are illegal! You’re under arrest!”
He raised his arms over his head.
Shit.
There was a way out that would get played no matter what he did... might as well play it now.
“In my wallet, behind my ‘gaijin’ card, is my Hunter License.” He replied. “You know what that means, right? Hunter License?”
She glared at him. “You’re a Hunter?” She snapped at him. He nodded, keeping his hands over his head. “My PMC is the Core Hunters. We’re registered with the Oversight Committee. On the back of my card is a telephone number... or you can just use the QR Code and your phone will be connected to them. They’ll verify that I’m allowed to carry these weapons.”
“Where’s your wallet?” She snapped at him. Her eyes were hard and flinty and sharp.
“I always put my wallet and keys on the table. Can I sit up?” He asked.
“...no. Stay right there.”
Derek sighed and kept his hands folded behind his head. She’d probably already called for backup. She was fully dressed, after all. That meant she’d had time to dress, poke around his things, find out he was carrying firearms, call for backup, and then make her arrest attempt.
He wished she’d let him get up; he didn’t want to be dragged outside and down to the station with his dick out.
She fumbled with his wallet and flipped it open, eyes switching quickly from him to the wallet and back again.
“Right hand side, right behind my ID.” He encouraged in a low voice.
“Shut up!” She shouted, hand twitching, jerking the cards out of his wallet and spraying the cards and cash and things out of his wallet.
He sighed. This wasn’t going the way he wanted. He was hoping that he could tell her calmly, plainly that he was a Dungeoneer, a Mage, and let her down gently. Being held at gunpoint was... not great.
She managed to grab the card and she held it up and he could see her eyes flicking between the card and his face.
“When... were you going to tell me that you were a mage?” She snarled.
“Today. I thought it would be fair: I took you out on a date; you took me out on a date, and then I explained my circumstances.”
Misaki did something he didn’t expect and terrified the shit out of him; she threw her gun on the floor.
“You asshole! You prick! How could you do this to me? Did you use your magic on me?”
Derek shook his head. “Mages aren’t allowed to use their magic unless they’re in a Dungeon.” He replied, knowing that it wouldn’t make any difference to her.
“That’s bullshit! You had to have used a spell on me!”
He shook his head and sat up and folded his legs, hands still on the back of his head.
“You called the station, already, right? Call the number on the back of the card. They’ll tell you what you already know- that I haven’t used any magic, that I’m licensed to carry those guns... and to let me go.”
She plopped down in the chair next to the kitchen table and started crying.
He eased himself out of bed and got dressed, keeping an eye on her all the while.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I enjoyed your company. I had fun.” He picked up the scattered contents of his wallet and tucked them back into his wallet, and then carefully picked up her gun and set it on the table in front of her.
She blinked at the gun being put in front of her, and then up at Derek.
“Why would you give this to me?” She asked in a croaky sort of voice.
“It’s yours, right?” He asked simply. He tried a smile. “Please don’t throw it, though. That nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Do... do you know how much I was looking forward to seeing you again?” She whispered, her face runny with snot. He froze.
Where did that come from?
She was looking forward to meeting him again?
They’d had just one date. It didn’t make sense.
He moved over to her bag with the bath towels they’d used at the pool, and handed her one.
“Your face is all runny.” He urged, and she took the cloth and buried her face in it, eliciting another round of tears.
This was definitely not going the way he wanted.
“So when is your backup coming?” He asked when her tears had tapered down.
She blinked her bloodshot eyes at him. “Huh?”
“You called for backup, right?” He prodded.
“I, uhhh, I hadn’t, I didn't...” She mumbled.
“Would you like to?” Derek asked gently.
She frowned at him.
“You really didn’t use magic on me?” She asked him, eyes hard on his face.
He shook his head. “The moment I use magic when I’m not on a Dungeon Hunt, I'm on a list quicker than you can imagine.” He replied simply. “Besides, my magic doesn’t work that way.”
She blinked a few times. “How does it work?” She asked.
“It helps me kill monsters.” he replied simply. “I put it into my bullets and monsters die.” He explained.
“So what happens next?” He asked her.
“Huh? Next?” She asked, confused.
“Between us.” he offered. “There’s not a lot of love for Mages, PMCs, or Dungeoneers in general.” he explained carefully. “I’ll understand if we never see each other again. I was expecting it.”
She frowned. “I need some time to think it over.”
*****
Lieutenant Kashiwagi Misaki
Age: 24
Occupation: Police Officer (Lieutenant)
PMC: none
STR: 8/10 (She really loves physical activities, like batting cages, swimming pools, wall climbing.)
DEX: 6/10 (She's nimble and flexible, but prefers to power through obstacles with brute force if she can.)
CON: 8/10 (She has a remarkable stamina that allows her to keep going regardless of the situation she's in.)
INT: 4/10 (While she's academically intelligent, she's often a very "by the book" person, and often relies on brute force, or the advice of her colleagues to get her through a situation that requires comprehensive thought.)
WIS: 4/10 (She's easily swayed when she's presented with different opinions. Her "gut instinct" isn't well developed.)
CHA: 6/10 (Charisma reflects both physical attractiveness, and the ability to sway people's opinions. She's attractive, but she's not actually aware of this. She also uses force of personality to push people to agree with her line of thinking.)
Magic Element: None
Magic Gate: 0
Magic Pool: 0
Magic Resistance: 0