Meanwhile, in the town of Sasorigakure…
“Bye, Boo!” I give Tomo a parting kiss before he steps onto the train back to Kumo. It’s been a short, but still amazing time spent with him in this idyllic resort town, and just the sort of vacation we both needed. Wine-tasting, cheese-sampling, gift-buying, and of course, a constant stream of lusty, sweaty, and very loud...you know what. We might have annoyed some of our neighbors in adjacent rooms where we were staying, but aside from some knowing winks and nods, no one’s really complained about it. I’ve had such a good time, in fact, that I’ve completely forgiven the Tanuki patriarch for inserting his greedy twat of a granddaughter into my mission unprompted. And I made sure Tomo came home laden with bags of special chocolate coins for the old man/racoon. I would have liked to have spent more time with my beau, but he had obligations to attend to back at the Mochizuki homestead, and I still technically have a mission to supervise. I’m not too bothered, though, because quite frankly, my...hips...were becoming a little sore and I’m walking with a bit of a limp.
It’s evening when I arrive back at the inn, minus Tomo for the first time in a while. The town’s preparing for a small festival, and the streets are draped with lanterns and colorful banners. There’s a jolly mood in the air.
“I’m back! Room one forty-one,” I casually say as I check in again with the front.
“Oh!” The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman, immediately starts to blush and chuckle. “Ah, good to see you again. Um...Miss Takaki, I didn’t want to, uh, say it before, but...I’ve been getting some complaints from the other guests about the particular noises you’re making in your room. For everyone’s comfort, could you please...tone it down in there?”
“What?” My cheeks start to flush a bit.. “Oh, uh, yes. I’m sorry. Well, my boyfriend’s left a bit early, so it won’t be an issue anymore.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Yes, Mochizuki Tomo? He was only here for a little while, but I made sure to pay for him, too.”
The innkeeper tries to keep herself from chortling. “Yes, of course…Mochizuki Tomo. Oh you poor dear, it’s just as the article said! Miss Takaki, although I appreciate the extra money, you know you don’t have to pay for two when it’s just you staying here alone, right?”
I frown. “What article? And why wouldn’t I pay for two? It’s only fair…”
The innkeeper hands me a copy of the local town rag, which I notice that all of the other patrons in the lobby are also reading--and chuckling to themselves as they glance at me. One of the headlines catches my eye: “Traveling Performers Turn Every City Into Sin City,” by one “Novice Sister Emiria, Ordo Magdalena.” At first, it it seems like any other anti-entertainment screen put out by the Tenouzans to try and ramp up church attendance, but…
“...humans then believe themselves to be lovers of these thespians, and become delusional. One such woman is Takaki Saeko, who does lustful things to a body pillow while screaming the name of her imaginary boyfriend…” I read aloud.
I stop, look up at the innkeeper, at the rest of the patrons, and now I understand. Slowly, I crumple the article into a ball with my fist. Even though I don’t know who “Novice Sister Emiria” is, I definitely know who she is. I force a smile and turn back to the innkeeper.
“On second thought, I’ll come back later. Tell the kitchen I’ll have a special, late-night order: Deep Fried Tanuki. Don’t worry, I’ll bring the meat.”
In the cloister of the Magdalene Order
Senna stretched happily on the scratchy straw mattress, resting her head on Rinko’s shoulder and nuzzling her hair. It was just past the end of Compline, and the other residents of the cloister had settled into their beds. If anyone had noticed that the two novices were sharing a mattress, no one commented. It was now complete darkness outside, only punctuated by the low, flickering light of the solitary candle marking the entrance to the stairwell. Inside, silence reigned, save for the sounds of breathing and occasional snores.
“You know, it kind of feels like we’re the last people left in the world right now,” Senna murmured. It was obvious that she was tiring quickly. “But I don’t really mind. I’m happy like this. I’m happy with you…” she said, giving Rinko’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you for being with me. I want…” she yawned, “I want us to be together...forever…”
In a few moments, her breaths flowed with somnolent regularity through Rinko’s hair, caressing her ears and letting her know that Senna had truly gone to the land of dreams. Somewhere nearby, Rinko’s ears picked up the sounds of someone else softly padding down the stairs, and she knew it was time.
Meticulously, agonizingly, Rinko extricated herself from Senna’s embrace and slid out from beneath the covers, leaving Senna clutching a pillow. Than, taking special care to avoid tripping or knocking against anything on the floor, Rinko made her way to the bottom of the stairwell.
As she’d suspected, Jocasta was already there to meet her, but what Rinko hadn’t expected was how the other girl looked. Her right arm was now encased in wrappings and bound up in a sling, and her normal expression, usually full of hubris and scorn, was now more tempered than usual.
“That fuckin’ bitch got me good,” Jocasta sighed. “What is with you and attracting all of the worst kinds a shitheels inta yer orbit, anyway? Now if you’re done munchin’ on Senna’s blessed carpet, then let’s get on with it. My arm’s useless right now, so yer gonna have ta do the heavy lifting. But I’m not gonna let ya screw me on the deal, so I’m still comin’ with ya. You got the pick?”
The smell of booze was still strong enough from further down that they could be assured that the circatrices would be few and far between. Still, it was safer to make their way toward the cloister entrance without light, so the two girls padded along in the darkness for a while before finally coming to the main entrance of the cloister. Being a Tanuki and an academy student had given Rinko easy facility with lockpicks, and it wasn’t too long before she heard the satisfying click of tumblers locking into position and the latch swinging open.
“Jesus Fuckin’ Saito,” Jocasta whispered, shaking her head. “I kinda thought you’d screw up and break the pick off inside the lock, but yer more skilled than ya look. Now let’s go. The booze cart’s nearby, in a small shed next to the custodian’s cottage. Easy does it out there--there’s guards about.”
The smell of the outside world’s air came as a shock: inside, Rinko’s nose had gotten used to the constant odor of incense, beeswax, and bad porridge. But now, the combined scents of mountain air, pine forests, and animal manure all rushed her olfactory centers like a thirsty stampede, making her eyes water for a second. Jocasta had already gone ahead, and signaled for Rinko hurry up. As expected, roving torchlights in the distance suggested isolated patrols, but none of them were close enough to even have a chance of discovering the pair.
It wasn’t too long until Rinko made it over to the small shed that leaned up against one of the cottages built into the cloister’s outer wall. And, true to Jocasta’s word, there it was: a small cart covered with a tarp, under which were stacked wooden crates.
“Oh baby, come to Mama,” Jocasta said, and pried one of the crates’ tops off with her knife. She reached in with her uninjured arm, pulled out a dark green bottle, and tossed it to Rinko. “Kelmura Adega Velha, twelve years old,” she said, triumphantly. “This is the good shit right here. Normally, we’d haul a whole crate back, but since I’m gimped to hell, we’ll just need ta take as many bottles as we can. If the circs complain, then they can take it out on Rucilla’s ass. God, I hope they whip that bitch hard...”
Mid-sentence, and just as Rinko noticed it, Jocasta spun around and pointed her knife at a figure leaning lazily against the doorframe to the shed. But no sooner had the girl leveled her weapon, than a flash of silver arced through the air, knocking the blade out of Jocasta’s hand. It spun through the air and skittered off somewhere in the darkness, lost forever.
“What the shit?” Jocasta gasped, as Takaki Saeko stepped into the shed, saber in hand and leveled at her.
“Get the hell out, Gimpylocks,” Saeko snapped at Jocasta, gesturing with her thumb. She shifted her blade to Rinko’s direction. “You, 'Emiria,' stay right here.”
Jocasta shot an accusatory, and surprisingly wounded glare at Rinko. “Y-you! I k-knew you’d try’n s-screw me! Just like e-everyone else! Fuck you! F-Fuck you to hell!” She slapped her good hand against her face to smear away tears, and her voice broke “...and f-fuck me for trusting you!”
With that, Jocasta darted past Saeko and into the darkness. Saeko exhaled in annoyance and slowly closed the shed. Rinko knew there was no escaping her in the moment. A crumpled ball of paper rolled to her feet. Rinko picked it up, straightened it out, and came face to face with her own article.
“That wasn’t Maria, was it?” Saeko said. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m through caring about Osu’s bullshit. The last time I called him with a mission update it was all ‘cheeki breeki suka blyad!’ and ‘kurwa!’ before he hung up on me. Then he butt-dialed me while doing a cossack dance and singing ‘Katushya’ over and over again. That vatnik is dead to me. Dead!” She cracked her knuckles.
“But what to do with you, little Tanuki Rinko. You know, your shitty little article could be construed as libelous slander under our law, and I could have you spit-roasted in court with a single call to the Shogun. You know his Lord Protector, Mochizuki Tama? I’m besties with her, and you’re totally not. You’ll owe me millions in damages, and you’re gonna work a series of low-wage jobs for the rest of your life trying to pay me off. Now, before you dig yourself a bigger hole than the one you’re already in, you’re gonna come back to Kumo with me right now, without making a fuss, and without a single godrotting word from your mouth. This charade, this mission, is over. The only thing I’m glad for is that you saved me the trouble of busting into the cloister to get you.”
Saeko held out her hand, expectantly. “It’s time to leave.”
“Bye, Boo!” I give Tomo a parting kiss before he steps onto the train back to Kumo. It’s been a short, but still amazing time spent with him in this idyllic resort town, and just the sort of vacation we both needed. Wine-tasting, cheese-sampling, gift-buying, and of course, a constant stream of lusty, sweaty, and very loud...you know what. We might have annoyed some of our neighbors in adjacent rooms where we were staying, but aside from some knowing winks and nods, no one’s really complained about it. I’ve had such a good time, in fact, that I’ve completely forgiven the Tanuki patriarch for inserting his greedy twat of a granddaughter into my mission unprompted. And I made sure Tomo came home laden with bags of special chocolate coins for the old man/racoon. I would have liked to have spent more time with my beau, but he had obligations to attend to back at the Mochizuki homestead, and I still technically have a mission to supervise. I’m not too bothered, though, because quite frankly, my...hips...were becoming a little sore and I’m walking with a bit of a limp.
It’s evening when I arrive back at the inn, minus Tomo for the first time in a while. The town’s preparing for a small festival, and the streets are draped with lanterns and colorful banners. There’s a jolly mood in the air.
“I’m back! Room one forty-one,” I casually say as I check in again with the front.
“Oh!” The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman, immediately starts to blush and chuckle. “Ah, good to see you again. Um...Miss Takaki, I didn’t want to, uh, say it before, but...I’ve been getting some complaints from the other guests about the particular noises you’re making in your room. For everyone’s comfort, could you please...tone it down in there?”
“What?” My cheeks start to flush a bit.. “Oh, uh, yes. I’m sorry. Well, my boyfriend’s left a bit early, so it won’t be an issue anymore.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Yes, Mochizuki Tomo? He was only here for a little while, but I made sure to pay for him, too.”
The innkeeper tries to keep herself from chortling. “Yes, of course…Mochizuki Tomo. Oh you poor dear, it’s just as the article said! Miss Takaki, although I appreciate the extra money, you know you don’t have to pay for two when it’s just you staying here alone, right?”
I frown. “What article? And why wouldn’t I pay for two? It’s only fair…”
The innkeeper hands me a copy of the local town rag, which I notice that all of the other patrons in the lobby are also reading--and chuckling to themselves as they glance at me. One of the headlines catches my eye: “Traveling Performers Turn Every City Into Sin City,” by one “Novice Sister Emiria, Ordo Magdalena.” At first, it it seems like any other anti-entertainment screen put out by the Tenouzans to try and ramp up church attendance, but…
“...humans then believe themselves to be lovers of these thespians, and become delusional. One such woman is Takaki Saeko, who does lustful things to a body pillow while screaming the name of her imaginary boyfriend…” I read aloud.
I stop, look up at the innkeeper, at the rest of the patrons, and now I understand. Slowly, I crumple the article into a ball with my fist. Even though I don’t know who “Novice Sister Emiria” is, I definitely know who she is. I force a smile and turn back to the innkeeper.
“On second thought, I’ll come back later. Tell the kitchen I’ll have a special, late-night order: Deep Fried Tanuki. Don’t worry, I’ll bring the meat.”
* * *
In the cloister of the Magdalene Order
Senna stretched happily on the scratchy straw mattress, resting her head on Rinko’s shoulder and nuzzling her hair. It was just past the end of Compline, and the other residents of the cloister had settled into their beds. If anyone had noticed that the two novices were sharing a mattress, no one commented. It was now complete darkness outside, only punctuated by the low, flickering light of the solitary candle marking the entrance to the stairwell. Inside, silence reigned, save for the sounds of breathing and occasional snores.
“You know, it kind of feels like we’re the last people left in the world right now,” Senna murmured. It was obvious that she was tiring quickly. “But I don’t really mind. I’m happy like this. I’m happy with you…” she said, giving Rinko’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you for being with me. I want…” she yawned, “I want us to be together...forever…”
In a few moments, her breaths flowed with somnolent regularity through Rinko’s hair, caressing her ears and letting her know that Senna had truly gone to the land of dreams. Somewhere nearby, Rinko’s ears picked up the sounds of someone else softly padding down the stairs, and she knew it was time.
Meticulously, agonizingly, Rinko extricated herself from Senna’s embrace and slid out from beneath the covers, leaving Senna clutching a pillow. Than, taking special care to avoid tripping or knocking against anything on the floor, Rinko made her way to the bottom of the stairwell.
As she’d suspected, Jocasta was already there to meet her, but what Rinko hadn’t expected was how the other girl looked. Her right arm was now encased in wrappings and bound up in a sling, and her normal expression, usually full of hubris and scorn, was now more tempered than usual.
“That fuckin’ bitch got me good,” Jocasta sighed. “What is with you and attracting all of the worst kinds a shitheels inta yer orbit, anyway? Now if you’re done munchin’ on Senna’s blessed carpet, then let’s get on with it. My arm’s useless right now, so yer gonna have ta do the heavy lifting. But I’m not gonna let ya screw me on the deal, so I’m still comin’ with ya. You got the pick?”
The smell of booze was still strong enough from further down that they could be assured that the circatrices would be few and far between. Still, it was safer to make their way toward the cloister entrance without light, so the two girls padded along in the darkness for a while before finally coming to the main entrance of the cloister. Being a Tanuki and an academy student had given Rinko easy facility with lockpicks, and it wasn’t too long before she heard the satisfying click of tumblers locking into position and the latch swinging open.
“Jesus Fuckin’ Saito,” Jocasta whispered, shaking her head. “I kinda thought you’d screw up and break the pick off inside the lock, but yer more skilled than ya look. Now let’s go. The booze cart’s nearby, in a small shed next to the custodian’s cottage. Easy does it out there--there’s guards about.”
The smell of the outside world’s air came as a shock: inside, Rinko’s nose had gotten used to the constant odor of incense, beeswax, and bad porridge. But now, the combined scents of mountain air, pine forests, and animal manure all rushed her olfactory centers like a thirsty stampede, making her eyes water for a second. Jocasta had already gone ahead, and signaled for Rinko hurry up. As expected, roving torchlights in the distance suggested isolated patrols, but none of them were close enough to even have a chance of discovering the pair.
It wasn’t too long until Rinko made it over to the small shed that leaned up against one of the cottages built into the cloister’s outer wall. And, true to Jocasta’s word, there it was: a small cart covered with a tarp, under which were stacked wooden crates.
“Oh baby, come to Mama,” Jocasta said, and pried one of the crates’ tops off with her knife. She reached in with her uninjured arm, pulled out a dark green bottle, and tossed it to Rinko. “Kelmura Adega Velha, twelve years old,” she said, triumphantly. “This is the good shit right here. Normally, we’d haul a whole crate back, but since I’m gimped to hell, we’ll just need ta take as many bottles as we can. If the circs complain, then they can take it out on Rucilla’s ass. God, I hope they whip that bitch hard...”
Mid-sentence, and just as Rinko noticed it, Jocasta spun around and pointed her knife at a figure leaning lazily against the doorframe to the shed. But no sooner had the girl leveled her weapon, than a flash of silver arced through the air, knocking the blade out of Jocasta’s hand. It spun through the air and skittered off somewhere in the darkness, lost forever.
“What the shit?” Jocasta gasped, as Takaki Saeko stepped into the shed, saber in hand and leveled at her.
“Get the hell out, Gimpylocks,” Saeko snapped at Jocasta, gesturing with her thumb. She shifted her blade to Rinko’s direction. “You, 'Emiria,' stay right here.”
Jocasta shot an accusatory, and surprisingly wounded glare at Rinko. “Y-you! I k-knew you’d try’n s-screw me! Just like e-everyone else! Fuck you! F-Fuck you to hell!” She slapped her good hand against her face to smear away tears, and her voice broke “...and f-fuck me for trusting you!”
With that, Jocasta darted past Saeko and into the darkness. Saeko exhaled in annoyance and slowly closed the shed. Rinko knew there was no escaping her in the moment. A crumpled ball of paper rolled to her feet. Rinko picked it up, straightened it out, and came face to face with her own article.
“That wasn’t Maria, was it?” Saeko said. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m through caring about Osu’s bullshit. The last time I called him with a mission update it was all ‘cheeki breeki suka blyad!’ and ‘kurwa!’ before he hung up on me. Then he butt-dialed me while doing a cossack dance and singing ‘Katushya’ over and over again. That vatnik is dead to me. Dead!” She cracked her knuckles.
“But what to do with you, little Tanuki Rinko. You know, your shitty little article could be construed as libelous slander under our law, and I could have you spit-roasted in court with a single call to the Shogun. You know his Lord Protector, Mochizuki Tama? I’m besties with her, and you’re totally not. You’ll owe me millions in damages, and you’re gonna work a series of low-wage jobs for the rest of your life trying to pay me off. Now, before you dig yourself a bigger hole than the one you’re already in, you’re gonna come back to Kumo with me right now, without making a fuss, and without a single godrotting word from your mouth. This charade, this mission, is over. The only thing I’m glad for is that you saved me the trouble of busting into the cloister to get you.”
Saeko held out her hand, expectantly. “It’s time to leave.”
