Chapter Text
June 19th, 2018 - Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, Japan
I could count the things I love on one hand.
1. The Number Seven
2. My Brother Aberham
3. The Smell of Gasoline
4. 1985s Frankenchrist by the Dead Kennedys
5. The Rain
The only reason I tolerate June is because of number 5. When the warmth of summer creeps up on the eastern hemisphere. When the sun shines from breakfast to dinner. When the numbing cold is traded for damp weather and where every day is a risk walking without an umbrella.
Maybe it’s the foreigner in me, but umbrellas just seem like a bit more of a hassle than they're worth. My hands were better occupied with my weapon instead.
Resting on my shoulders, Lucky Number Seven swung slightly with each step. Gripping the hilt of the monster I tried to smother my smile. An honest smile that could only be caused by the five things I love.
The light and airy mood was rare and the large scythe in my hand seemed to be brimming with warmth as well. After all, I was more familiar with it than anything else.
It was particularly exciting today. The cursed energy flowed through my palm in quick bursts, warming my skin from the wet air. Almost like the weapon wanted me to know that it was all going to work out fine, like how it always had.
That didn’t seem to help the pit growing in my stomach. We both knew today was going to be hard, but I appreciated the support nonetheless.
Walking up the damp cobblestone steps, I neared the familiar building. The architecture is recognizable, just like the situation I’m about to walk into.
The pillars of the building stood tall, with large pieces of stone holding up the roof. Unbreakable, unavoidable, and unforgiving.
I briefly stop before the structure, my eyes catching the runoff from the roof. The weather was pouring.
Much like the past 12 years, I tried not to let it intimidate me but, It did so anyway. Secretly I wished so much water would collect on my person so that it would make me too heavy to move. I’d stay stuck in the rain forever.
Despite my desperate desire the rain continued to soak into my hair, though by some divine irony, not through my jacket. The red gift was warm, but also a reminder to stay out of the rain.
A chill gust of wind surrendered my last hope for revolution. With a sigh, I dip my head to the ground. My shoes shuffled forward as I stepped out of the weather and into the claws of the building.
Inside, it was a boring, traditional building that seemed rather bland. There was no color on the walls or pictures. Nothing to make the place seem any more lively or loving than it already was.
‘At least I’m not in the candle cave,’ I thought in a desperate attempt at optimism.
I’d only been there once or twice, but even I knew it would be better to get orders from Gakuganji than the head sorcerers. It’s not like Gakuganji hadn’t been told to pass the assignment to me anyway.
Taking off my muddy shoes I traded them for house slippers. Throwing them onto the tile, I tried to wipe the remaining remnants of the rain from my face.
When a sorcerer tries to take my jacket, I pull away in disagreement. I never took off the jacket, even when it was soaked, and despite the water, I tried to relish in the last of its warmth. I slowly pulled the fabric closer to me.
It might have been rude to walk into the room damp and dripping with rainwater, but I saw it as a small act of disobedience. A stride I hope went unnoticed.
The same sorcerers who tried to take my coat offered to escort me to the room and I completely disregarded it. My feet knew where they were going and in the same fashion, began to drag themselves lethargically in the correct direction. I found my coat pockets and my hand stuffed inside them lazily.
I hope I look more relaxed than I felt.
Dragging the now heavy coat on my shoulders, I walked down the wooden halls. My head scrambled to come up with a response to any question they could ask. Everything from how many curses I planned to exercise as to why I was drenched in water.
I’m sure my neurons snapped signals at the speed of light, trying to rationalize the situation. Desperately trying to predict whatever they wanted to talk to me about. My face flickered from somber to still.
‘Maybe it will just be a regular mission, or maybe even just to evaluate a sorcerer?’
Venturing further down the hall I shook my head, trying to get rid of the wishful thoughts. There really wasn’t any use for them. Maybe if it had only happened once or twice I would allow myself to imagine, but I had been doing this for long enough to know better.
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. I’m not insane. I’m just a realist who previously was inflicted by thoughts of insanity.
Nearing the door, I felt my heart begin to beat rapidly. A regular sign of my hereditary high blood pressure, but this was much more than that.
Blood was being pushed through my body so quickly that I heard it go through my ears and suddenly the hallway got very, very hot. It took a great deal of strength to stop myself from shaking my hands or squinting my eyes
And as soon as the episode had started, it stopped at the tone of Gakuganji's voice through the door. I slowly pulled my hands towards the sliding wall and prayed. If the universe were going to ask for forgiveness, right now I’d accept it in a heartbeat.
But when was I ever that lucky?
"You’re soaked Aurora. Where is your umbrella?"
Gulping, I closed the door as quickly as I had opened it. Shuffling farther inside my eyes looked over the room. In the center was a wood table and its accompanying chairs. The same ones that had always been there, more impressively hadn’t moved since I was a child.
There were 3 sets of eyes all looking up to meet me. Two principles and one scumbag. To the left was my own principle. He was quite old for a Jujuitsu Sorcerer, going into his mid-forties. A fine line was set on his forehead and it only became more defined the longer he looked at me.
I would describe Masamichi Yaga as compassionate. A nice person who was cursed by his own discoveries. Our relationship was rather unfortunate, but I didn’t have the heart to blame him for it. I’d even go as far as to say I’d appreciated the man, even if he only housed his own children.
Across from the table was well, he doesn't deserve my time.
Anyway, in front of the piece of scum was an empty chair. A place for someone who I haven’t seen in years.
As soon as the silence settled though, the daring thoughts began again,
‘I could dispose of them all in an instant. It took more energy to hold my technique back than to release it. So do it Roary, what’s stopping you?
He was. At the head of the table stood the broker of my abilities. Yoshinobu Gakuganji.
"You’ll ruin the floors," he scoffed. With steady drips falling from my jacket, I look down at the puddle forming around my feet. At that moment I realized my miniscule act of defiance had been hijacked. The failure was small, but disappointing nonetheless.
Head slowly tilting back up from the floor, I tried to settle the racing thoughts. Deciding to carry my vision towards the wall seemed like the best way to avoid them. Gakuganji always said my gaze was unsettling anyway.
"I’ll be gone soon enough. Let’s just get this over with," I sighed breathlessly.
"Straight to the point. That’s always been my favorite part about you," Shuffling the papers in his old hand his gaze burned into my face, "One Hundred days to exercise every Grade 3 or higher curse in both Europe and The Americas. If you run into complications, figure them out yourself. Dismissed."
Hearing that last word sent a chain of pre-programmed motions through my body. First I bowed, then sent a nod to Yaga, before making my way out of the room as quickly as possible.
‘Why are you mad? You expected this right, you always spend half the year abroad,’ Once again my mind raced.
Hand grabbing at the door, time seemed to slow as I was desperate to make my visit as brief as possible. Though I couldn’t stop but replay his words in my head. It was the same every year-
Stopping before that blindfolded bastard could usher me out, I turned to face the head of the table. "Wait, 100 days?"
"I did not misspeak."
If my mind was a firearm, then this would be equivalent to removing the safety lock.
"That’s 3 continents in 100 days! I can barely cover the US alone in 2 months,” I managed to sputter out, “This is impossible to do in such a short assignment time." Though Principle Yaga gave the old man a knowing look, he didn’t seem to care all that much.
There was no way, absolutely no way. His age must have been the cause of severe brain deterioration, or maybe he decided today to unveil his true sadistic tendencies. What I had been doing for the last eight years you could call apathetic, but this was just inhumane.
"You’re almost 18 now, stop acting like a child," I let out a silent laugh, ‘You never let me be a child.’
"I expect you back in the country for the Exchange event. Dismissed."
Suddenly that same courage that let me walk into the room soaking wet had vanished. Burning red hot anger suddenly was dispelled from my head.
Instead, it was replaced with such deep, unwavering signals of distress.
Everything in my body told me to run and get as far away before I did something even worse. Leave before I dig myself deeper into my own grave. I told my mussels to move, but they refused. I was stuck, feet adhered to the floor with something much stronger than glue.
‘Am I being punished?’ My mind rushed to make sense of the situation. However the longer I thought, the more I came to realize why this was happening to me.
Blood returned to pass my head as the shaky dam I built before had broken. Gone were the thuds and lumps of my heart. It beat so fast that everything was all muddled together. I felt so much blood pounding in my head I was so sure that soon it would start leaking from my eyes.
It didn’t take long for me to come to an understanding. There was no reason for something like this to be happening to me.
Part of me wanted to laugh at him. Part of me wanted to squeeze his neck. How could someone so old be so oblivious? Even by the look Yaga was giving him told me he understood.
My head was most comparable to an exotic chipped vase. To any normal pair of eyes, odd but functional. Though to those who knew how to examine craftsmanship, would be weary. They’d know that the damage that had already been done would only get worse over time.
He’s the one who taught me to walk on glass. Perhaps he should take his own advice.
"Oh and please get me some of those American sweets you talk so much about-" I shut the door before that child could finish.
My feet dragged me through the halls, to my shoes, and back outside. I tried to be angry, I really did, but the harder I tried to foster some kind of ill will the more guilt pressed down on me.
I chose this. I had brought this down on myself. I chose this life but I didn’t want to live like this anymore. It was an act of survival, I was surviving like an animal, like a dog chained to the wall. I didn’t even deserve that much. I was a Mutt.
Worst of all, when I looked outside there was no more sound to engulf me. Gone were the clouds replaced by blinding heat. It dried out the grass, the trees, and the stone. Once again the rain was stolen by the sun.