Free Web NovelChapter 488: Arc 6, Chapter 104: Why Magic
Fumeko reached her home past the hour of sunset. The lights were already on as she heard the first crickets began to chirp. 22 Fleur Boulevard. ’I own it now... This house is mine...’
While the fact settled in, Fumeko unlocked the door with her own key and entered. Hotaru was slumped on the sofa; her head sloped to one side.
Her ears pricked and she faced the one entering with widened eyes. The wolf-girl, still in her funeral attire, rushed up from the living room and captured the brunette into an embrace.
Fumeko was practically tackled against a closing door and could not escape.
"You’re alright, you’re safe," Hotaru uttered in relief. She petted the detective’s head and brushed through her hair. "You were gone for so long I was genuinely getting worried and no one knew what the police were doing to you-"
"Okayy!!" Fumeko had to pry herself away and gasped in a full gulp of air. She calmed herself down and replied, "I’m fine."
"Sorry," Hotaru kept her hands to herself and coyishly looked back and forth at the brunette. Her ears fell and tail jittered; a slight shade of red went across her cheeks.
Fumeko leered... ’This woman is an emotional nightmare.’ "Where are the others?"
"Asobi went to take a shower and Tiffany’s settling in on the third floor."
"Settling in?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"Oh, she brought her belongings and was moving in, I thought you knew?"
’About time.’ "I didn’t know it was today. You want some horned pollock? It’s gone a bit limp," she waved the paper bag in front of her.
Hotaru palmed her own forehead, "Dinner, right. I should make something. And you got me something to eat? Fumeko..." she hummed in delight.
"Uh, I just got it for lunch and didn’t eat it," the detective clarified with a furrow of her brows. "But let’s just buy dinner, you don’t need to go through the trouble."
"Hm... If you say so," the redhead played with her own thumbs and glanced at the floor.
’...What the hell’s gotten into her. ...!’ "Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be having a panic attack, would you?"
"Sorry, say again?" her ears flickered.
Fumeko sighed and shoved the paper takeaway bag into Hotaru’s hands as she walked past her and up the stairs. "I need your head to be here Aru, get it together."
The detective made her way up to the third floor, conveniently avoiding every room on the second all together. With a couple of suitcases covered with rhinestones and mundane boxes labelled with items, Tiffany was in the process of sorting through everything.
Many eccentric clothes were piled up on the bed and makeup products already cluttered the vanity. The pale blonde noticed with a bit of shock and paused her progress to address, "Fumeko. We thought you were going to be in trouble."
"I was—barely. Did you grab my dagger?"
"Mhm, yes," Tiffany took the gleaming purple dagger out of the pocket of her coat and handed it back.
Fumeko felt comfort as she held the handle again; she flipped the blade a few times in between her fingers.
The blonde continued to stare silently.
"You can continue," the detective told.
Tiffany pouted to the side. "...I’m well aware that it isn’t the case, but I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t belong here."
"Then let me make it clear; I need you here," Fumeko sheathed her dagger.
Tiffany brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear and smiled, "I agree that you probably do."
...
"I guess I’ll be right across the hall if you need me," the blonde continued, before she went about arranging her new room with her belongings.
Fumeko made her way back down the stairs and entered the room she dreaded to enter. She strode into her father’s room and glanced around...
Were her best answers really within the years of work of a meticulous man in the form of writing?
"I wonder if magic can sort through this mess faster..." Her fists clenched and she glared at the room before her. ’As if magic’s any solution. ... ... ...
I hate magic... Why was I ever so enamoured by it? Was it because when Mrs Aetherton’s son would come over with a trained talking crow, that I thought it was the most amazing feat in the world?
That... makes sense. Having magic hasn’t been a burden either, I just took it for granted; it became so natural that I barely even formed a thought to be here or there and now... I don’t even feel the energy to walk...
Unstable, unreliable—it’s a chaotic force that has barely any rules. This war, this stupid cult wouldn’t exist as long as it has if magic wasn’t here. You could have an army in the thousands and someone like Jotou can wipe them out in an instant.
If I didn’t have an affinity... Why wouldn’t I believe it if she told me she was a god? Magic’s solved so many of our problems along the way. Hotaru’s healed so many fatal if not lifelong injuries.
But so many problems were caused by the intervention of magic in the first place... It’s a cycle that never ends; a broken system of nature that’ll always exist no matter what.
So what if it can do cool shit? It’s the reason the world is as divided and in despair as it is now. I can’t believe I ever liked it. And now I need it so badly to stop more magic. I hate it. I need it. I hate that I need it...?
...
Jotou’s world doesn’t have magic. Things must be so easily solved there without all the chaos. They don’t have to deal with the devastation caused by mages or mysteries hidden behind it; must be nice to have things more concrete—an easier world like that where pretend gods aren’t destroying people...
People who are lucky enough to be born with an affinity are objectively superior in so many ways. People like my dad are far and few between.
...
...
Then I guess I’ll just have to pretend to be the few for now.’ Fumeko closed the door and decided to deal with the matter another time.
The brunette took slow steps down the stairs and searched the living room from above. ’Where did she go?’ She picked up the pace and found the redhead in the kitchen, collapsed on the floor against the lower cabinets.
"Hotaru?" Fumeko quickly crouched down in front of her and checked.
Her barely closed eyelids fluttered open by a smidgen to meet the brunette’s gaze. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry... I don’t care about the kiss with Asobi anymore... I just want you back..." tears had already streaked down her cheeks.
’...? Is she talking about Jotou? So it was Sobi...’ "Hey, snap out of it."
Hotaru faced the brunette and shook herself out of her stupor. "Sorry."
"Why are you on the kitchen floor?"
"I..." the redhead looked around. "Don’t remember. Maybe I’m just coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never see her again... I mean, first it was your dad and we all thought there was a chance, it made sense, didn’t it?
Why, why would they kill him after going through with all the trouble- but then it didn’t matter, so what matters what we think, it’s just wishful thinking they haven’t already killed-"
"Slap."
It was much gentler than the first time. However, it was enough to leave a sting and make Hotaru furrow her brows. "You’re gonna have to help me here, I can’t keep slapping you every time you get like this..."
"If I knew the solution," Hotaru glared. "I was just thinking about her and a promise she made once and it started spiralling from there. ...If slapping me does it, then fine..."
"What promise?"
"She said she’d try her best to stay alive. She made me swear that if she ever died, that I’d live for her and look at me, I can’t even heat up food without messing up," the redhead hugged her knees.
’A bit melodramatic... Especially considering.’ "We don’t know for sure if Jotou’s dead. Until we can be certain of that, we need to keep going under the assumption that she’s alive. Everything around us is bleak right now, I know.
And anything I say might not help in the least bit. What I can tell you though is that it’s the truth. So as long as we have a chance, don’t lose hope."
"Keep going..." Hotaru gazed into Fumeko’s brown eyes perhaps a little too intensely; the colour reminded her of someone else. It helped however little, to simply keep eye contact.
Her gaze kept drifting off to the side, trying to spy on something on the kitchen counter, but the redhead kept catching herself and looked back to the brunette.
’What does she keep looking at?’ Fumeko subtly tilted her head and from the low angle, she could not make out anything. She sighed and offered her hand to the redhead, "Come on," she uttered softly.
"Fumeko... I’m going to be brutally honest right now..." the redhead whispered as her voice grew breathier. "I... I... ...That knife looks really alluring..." Hotaru felt her mouth go dry.
Fumeko furrowed her brows and her somewhat calmed demeanour tightened up. ’You better not...’
"I’m... really trying to resist the urge to break my fingers... I’m worried about every tool that you have in this house... I don’t trust myself...
You should not leave me to my own devices right now; I might do something I know I’ll regret," her haggard words spouted out.
A chill went down Fumeko’s spine and the silence that followed did not help. She slowly slipped her fingers under Hotaru’s hand and gave it a light tug, "Alright... let’s get you a change of scenery." ’Some jasmine tea and rest hopefully...’
Pale as a ghost, the haunted-looking redhead followed the detective out of the kitchen. The wolf-girl tried to wet her drying up mouth, "I mean, maybe I should just do it to get my head clear."
"I think that’s the worst idea you’ve ever come up with," Fumeko replied.
"You need my head to be clear and on task, don’t you?"
"Not like that." ’Come on wolfy, I need you. If you’re cracking like this... Dad’s gone, Jotou’s gone... You can’t leave all the responsibility to me, please...’ "You were really dependent on Jotou huh."
"It’s," she tensed up her hands as her vision grew blurrier. "It’s not just Jotou, it’s just overwhelming, and I’m just feeling all my self-control fall apart at the moment. This whole situation is... ngh... numbing?" Hotaru teared up.
"Stay with me."
"I am... I am."
"How about I get Sobi and Tiffy, and we can all just, chat for a bit over some tea?" Fumeko softly put.
"Okay..." Hotaru trembled.
Fumeko sighed and kept an eye on her every other second. ’Or is this the responsibility I always asked for...? Fuck my life.’
