Free Web NovelChapter 483: Arc 6, Chapter 99: Broken
’...! Dad was killed because he’s the one who stopped the Unknown. Now Jotou’s head’s on the guillotine because she ended Beauregard. The Briar Prince isn’t dead, just out of commission.
... ...Yeah. Yeah, that adds up...’ Her hands felt cold. A sunny morning smiled through the carriage windows. The wheels rolling on bricks and the clopping of horse hooves thumped and ran as the only sound.
Hotaru, Asobi and Tiffany all sat to themselves. ’...They wouldn’t kill her. They wouldn’t. They... wouldn’t.’ Their destination came into view as they stopped.
’What are they planning to do with Kineko? ... ...String her up somewhere too?’ Her posture was non-existent—the wilted expression she wore was only met by the pavement outside her house.
"Nh," Fumeko bumped into Asobi and finally looked up. ’Sorry.’ The other three gazed at the three-story house, that had been stripped away of police tape and left spick and span. Spick and span?
Fumeko narrowed her gaze at the window of her room, where fractured pieces of glass were floating in the air being mended crack by crack before it clinked back nice and smooth into her window frame.
Hotaru rushed up the steps and turned the door handle; the handle on a door that was previously split in half and broken off the hinges, which she now swung open without so much as a squeak.
Everything was where it was supposed to be; it was as if nothing happened at all. The telephone cord was rewired, the craters in the wall where flat—they walked in, completely dumbfounded.
"The transmutationist Alicia hired must’ve come in the morning," all except Fumeko of course. She shut the door with barely a gaze of shock or wonder in her eyes, before she lugged her feet up the stairs.
"Oh hello detective~! Finally made it t’your own house-warming?" having heard the party downstairs enter, Alicia skipped down to meet her on the second floor.
"Not a single bullet dent," Fumeko said sombrely.
"It’s like nothing ever happened at all~ And not’a single copper outta your coffers. Thank you’s a praise that sounds good right about now! So go ahead," Alicia chirped.
"Yeah..."
The reporter adjusted her spectacles, "What’s got you drooping like honey down a stack’f pancakes?"
’...’
"Hey-hey, work’s all done," a figure in a long beige trench coat walked downstairs.
For a second, Fumeko’s eyes lit up... But they just as quickly dulled.
Her light blonde hair was tied into ponytail and she had a long silver wand that sparkled with spirals of wind. She approached Alicia, dusting off her hands.
’Thought it was... Never mind.’
"Every scratch? Don’t need t’be calling again?" Alicia side-eyed.
"Yes, I’ve fixed from corner to corner, give it a rest. Now?" the woman put her hand out.
Alicia took out two developed photographs from her trouser pocket and tore them up in front of her. She then handed the torn pieces with a smile.
The repairwoman breathed a sigh of relief and crumpled the torn photographs into her own coat.
’...’ "They could use you in the Dolpool Police Department... or the courthouse," Fumeko shrugged.
She glanced down at the brunette and raised a brow, "At the rates they’re paying for a project that massive? I’m a mage not a miracle charity. Besides, the pigs can sort themselves out, they got all our taxes, don’t they?" she brushed past and headed downstairs.
After she departed, Alicia uttered, "She couldn’t even take a project that big or that broken. Lucky for you detective, the house’s still standing."
"The police?"
"Y’mean why they weren’t here? Kick me down the river if I got’a clue. I’d say there’s nothing more t’investigate—packed up before the Sun shined. What else’re they gonna fine anyhow? You cased the place and I got everything right here~" she patted her camera.
Fumeko took a deep breath. "...As long as trouble’s not gonna come knocking."
"Should be fine; if not, ring me," Alicia beamed and then her eyes popped. "Which reminds me, I gotta get goin’! Rumour by the birdsong is something’s cooking up in Mandrake and I gotta get that scoop!
Might already be running late though, so sorry t’meet and greet and say goodbye detective, but I’ll catch’up with you later~" as fast as her mouth ran, her legs did as well—straight out the door before Fumeko could even get a sentence in.
The brunette turned around and- ...No shadows engulfed her. She just heard the sound of rushing shoe-clacks, a brief few jittery words downstairs and the door shutting.
Fumeko just, stared... She was unable to give any warning to the reporter who undoubtedly would have a shocking day. Her shoulders felt like they were filled with sand and her head ached worse with each passing second.
"Fumeko??"
She would have continued going blank if a redhead’s voice did not call up.
’Bzz!’ "Gh! Ah," Fumeko held her forehead as a sudden jolt of pain hit her.
"Fumeko!?" Hotaru rushed up the staircase.
The brunette brushed the back of her hand against her nose... The unmistakable scent of iron and that familiar red shade was now smeared on her hand.
The wolf-girl stopped halfway up.
Fumeko walked into view, brushing her nose.
Hotaru took a moment to squint, "W-what happened?"
The brunette glared at the blood on her now balled-up fists, "I accidentally tried to blink."
"...Sorry, what?"
Fumeko shook her head and walked down the stairs, "Move."
The redhead did move out of the way, but not without a furrow of her brows and a remark, "Fumeko we’re all on edge, could you please-"
"Please what? Finish that damn sentence, cause I’m curious," Fumeko reached the bottom and stared daggers back at the wolf-woman.
Hotaru bared her fangs, "Nothing."
"Nothing? We’re you gonna say I need to be more talkative?" Fumeko snarled.
"Meko..." Asobi said while Tiffany uncomfortably stood by the sofa.
"What? Are you on edge Sobi? On edge for what!? I don’t get to be on edge, my dad’s DEAD! It’s done! There’s nothing to be on edge about!" Fumeko shouted.
Hotaru’s ears spiked, "So is mine! It doesn’t mean-"
"SO WHAT!? Why the hell does that matter now!? You’re the lucky one here cause we know for sure they’re not gonna kill Jotou! That’s all YOU care about, don’t you!?"
"Stop it!" Asobi tried to interject.
Hotaru stomped down the stairs, "Oh you don’t care about her all of a sudden!? Did I say I don’t care for your father!? All I asked was about YOUR well-being! You’re bleeding!! I’m not supposed to care about you either!?"
"MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!"
"THAT’S NOT WHY WE’VE BEEN A PARTY; We’ve all been involved in each other’s business for a long while now!!"
"E-e-enough you t-two!" Tiffany attempted to interrupt.
"Party!? PARTY!?" Fumeko closed the distance and glared up at the redhead who towered over. "What is going on in your fucking head!?"
"FINE! Friends—more than that even! WHO CARES!? You get my point!" her eyes watered up.
"I don’t think I fucking do! I think you can’t understand why someone might just WANT A LITTLE PRIVACY!"
"After YOUR DAD JUST DIED!? You expect me to j-just leave you alone!?"
"Yeah, and the fact that you can’t understand that only proves what Jotou said about you. Cause when you two had a little spat, if you wanted to cry alone in your room unbothered, that was COMPLETELY fine."
"You still came and checked on me, didn’t you!? And there’s a big difference between your father’s death and whatever that was- Wait, what about what Jotou said...?" sudden clarity hit her and her sobered expression was a thin veil holding back a flood of rage.
"..." Fumeko glared into her eyes. "Of course that’s what you care about. You think I was hiding some secret from you, weren’t you? But it’s something you’ve already heard; you overcontrolling, overbearing, hypocritical, selfish bitch!!"
"Shck!"
In the blink of an eye, before the brunette could even react—or rather, she felt too slow to even react—claws slashed the side of her face.
...
Hotaru’s enraged eyes stared down while panting heavily. Barely past the nails of her right hand glowed short claws of faint blue water, that were now tipped with sanguine red.
Four slash marks began to bleed down the brunette’s left cheek as her eyes opened wide. Without missing a beat, Fumeko flipped the gleaming purple dagger out of its sheath and sliced forward.
The dagger slashed at her clothing as the redhead stepped back, causing a rip down the waist-line of her dress. A thin line of blood got drawn from her skin as she stumbled.
Hotaru dispelled her claws and went to swing her fist at the brunette’s head, but her arm was stopped. "Stop it!!!" Asobi grappled the redhead and tried hard to pull her away.
Fumeko took the opportunity to lunge forward and grab a fistful of Hotaru’s hair and yank it with all her weight, eliciting a yelp from the redhead.
Both Hotaru and Asobi took a tumble and fell at the base of the stairs. Asobi held on still, although both of them winced in pain.
Fumeko’s arm was weakly wrenched away by both of Tiffany’s hands on it. The brunette was forced to let go of her hair and be pulled back by the blonde who wrapped both arms around Fumeko’s waist to grapple her back.
"T-this isn’t h-helping anyone!" Tiffany tried to reason.
Fumeko with crimson dripping down her jaw launched her legs up frantically; she kicked the heel of her boot into Hotaru’s neck and chest, but was pulled far enough that it missed the redhead’s chin.
Hotaru wrestled from the elf’s grasp in an attempt to free herself.
"Bzzz!!!!" A flickering wall of white light barred either of them from engaging any further. For at least a minute or two, Hotaru and Fumeko were forced apart by the other two; long enough to come to their senses. freёwebnoѵel.com
Fumeko’s eyes lingered up the staircase or even behind the translucent light wall. The blood dripped off her face and landed onto her white shirt and more got smeared across as she used the sleeve the wipe her face.
To blink now, away or towards... would only put her in worse pain... She settled back into Tiffany’s hold and gave in to the crashing adrenaline. She removed herself from Tiffany with a huff and looked away.
Hotaru’s narrowed gaze peered through the light wall at the other. A clear dirt print from the boot going up her chest to her neck and a cut to her waistline.
Her fangs remained in view, the hairs of her ears and tail maintained their aggressive stance. Slowly, within the grasp of Asobi, the redhead took some deep breaths to calm herself down.
The light wall faded...
...
...
Hotaru stood up with the help of Asobi and started prying away from the elf.
Fumeko walked towards the living room. freёwebnovel.com
"No!" Asobi yelled out and hooked Fumeko’s neck by the arm and Hotaru’s in the other. The magician dragged them both together and clutched them closely, much to the protest of them both.
Asobi held them as secure as she could while her face began to wither away into gloom. Tears formed and ran down her cheeks as she sobbed. In a whimper she said, "We can’t fight... not right now, please...
If we, if we lose ourselves then everything we’ve done will be useless... The cult will win... if we break, they’ll win, don’t you two get it?" she cried. "Please, please, please, I love you both, please stop fighting. It’ll be okay, I promise..."
Her words were faltering by the second and by the time she promised her words fumbled into babbles as she just continued to sob.
Hotaru’s arms began to go limp; she no longer resisted. As her tearful words reached her ears, they bent down and her tail curled up. Her lips quivered and gave up on trying to say anything; complete silence—tears streaked down from her closed eyes.
Drops of blood slid down the enchanted fabric of Asobi’s blazer, which the brunette’s cheek was pressed into. It stung—the wounds more so than the remarks.
Her body was paralyzed, rigid. No escape attempt was made and yet she was uncomfortably forced to stay; no shadows saved her now.
Tiffany kept a step away, staring like an outsider looking in. Even so, Fumeko eventually felt a hand gently rubbing her shoulder. Her dark eyes sided to her right, and saw Tiffany soothing in whatever way she could.
Remorseful—hardly an expression the brunette wished to see right now. Tiffany got a little closer, until more of her presence was around the detective.
Only then did Fumeko’s posture melt. Her gaze lingered and lingered on the floor. The gaze became watery, and then bit by bit, blurry.
’Dad...’ Her face wrinkled up and her lips wavered as a gasp and a whimper slipped past. There was no stopping her cries that stung the claw marks; Fumeko sobbed and pushed her face into Asobi’s chest and cried vocally for what felt like hours...
