Chapter 515: Arc 6, - 131: Spark of Truth

Chapter 515: Arc 6, Chapter 131: Spark of Truth

The night grew quieter, with the pitter-patter of rain out the window. Their last guest left for his hotel with an archer in tow. The lights in the house were off, and Fumeko stepped out of her room. She walked across the hall and knocked on Tiffany’s door.

"Come in."

Fumeko entered.

Tiffany was sat at her vanity, with a lamp on. "Needed something?" her voice had a bit of a croak to it.

"Not much. How’s your throat doing?"

The blonde laid a hand on her own neck and massaged it, "Better. My throat doesn’t feel shut anymore. But it’s just been a bit rough since a couple of days ago. How are you?"

"Fine, I guess. Nothing hurts—just fatigue."

"Hm."

"Hm..."

"So, you just wanted to check on me?"

"Can’t I?" Fumeko pursed her lips. "I was just wondering how Kineko was. Did she hear anything downstairs?"

"I don’t believe so; I heard most of it. She was pretending to sleep however; all children have a tell," she shook her head.

"Do you mind watching over her tonight? For the whole night?"

"I’m not her sister she praises so highly," Tiffany furrowed her brows.

"Yeah, but I don’t wanna be near her right now..." Fumeko faced away.

Tiffany rolled her eye, "Fine. But be aware she doesn’t blame you whatsoever. So stop being a coward come sunrise."

"Thanks," Fumeko shot a glare and walked away.

Down the steps she went, and in the dark, standing in front of her father’s room, was Kineko. The little girl stood staring; then on sniffle followed into another. Her lips wriggled as her teary eyes saw her sister come down.

"You should be asleep."

Kineko sobbed, and sobbed, and broke out into a cry.

Fumeko got closer, and Kineko clung to her side, rubbing her face into her shirt. The brunette grimaced at first, but then slowly reached an arm down to hold the girl’s back.

The missing arm in Kineko’s left sleeve made her turn away, and at Kazuo’s room. Fumeko slowly patted on Kineko’s back, "Did you see him before he-?"

Kineko continued crying and whimpering.

’Did she see dad die? Or just see that he’s gone. I think she knows either way... How do I talk to a kid?’ "I’m sorry. Dad’s not coming back," her voice went soft.

It only prompted Kineko to cry louder.

Fumeko sighed. "But you’re with me now, okay? I’m gonna make sure you’re safe."

Kineko’s cries died down, and she looked up.

The first thing the detective’s eyes went to were the wet stains on her shirt now. She shook her head, and revealed something to Kineko in her hand. "Here. It helps me clear my head sometimes. It’s yours."

Kineko sniffled, and looked at the metallic marble in the palm of her hand. Fumeko flicked it with her thumb and the rings rotated and the marble started to spin on its own around her palm.

The detective flipped with a finger, made it land back and caught it, before she handed it. Kineko took it with her tears coming to an end, "Wreally?"

"Yeah," Fumeko eyed down with a frown. ’I really liked that thing...’ "It’s a toy from Cravolta. I got it with... Well, not on a date, but. Never mind. It’s yours now. Keep it safe."

"I couldn’t leave you on your own for five minutes?" Tiffany walked downstairs.

Fumeko turned, "It’s fine now."

Tiffany approached and escorted Kineko away to her room, and she followed without resisting. She eyed the marble, and back to her sister, to mouth the words thank you.

"Maybe don’t call her an ’it’ next time?" a voice hushed from the stairs.

Fumeko looked back at two crimson ears peaking up, "I meant the situation. Aren’t you going to bed?"

"I should be asking that to you."

"I’m not tired."

"That’s a complete lie."

"So what?"

"You wanna tell me what you think, or not? I think we have the right to know."

"..."

"It’s about Jotou, isn’t it?"

"Yeah."

"Come down," the crimson ears disappeared with the sound of footsteps.

Fumeko took slow steps down. The wolf-woman was sat in the dark with a cup of jasmine tea she nursed with a sip or two. She was not alone; Asobi enjoyed the leftover tea from the pot on the table—drinking it from the mouth of the teapot itself.

"You two know we don’t pay an electricity bill, right?"

The magician’s eyes glowed jade green in the dark, "I wanted the lights on."

"I thought it’d stress Kineko out," Hotaru whispered.

’Right, cause missing a fucking arm is gonna be less stressful than lights being on past bedtime.’ Fumeko continued down. "Tiffany’s still recovering her voice," she said like a complaint.

"And?"

"Never mind."

"I had to cure the paralysis around her shot throat and heal whatever I could. If I healed her vocal cords too much- I can’t heal that exactly, what if her voice comes out different? Or worse?"

"Yeah, yeah, I figured that’d be your explanation," Fumeko dismissed and took a seat.

"I think it’s better if we think about why Jotou attacked us. Me and Aru already thought about some explanations while you were in your long sleep."

"It’s a part of that trap, we know that much. She must’ve been controlled or coerced in some way, right?" Hotaru stared a little too long at an empty teacup.

"Or maybe it’s a robot clone!"

Fumeko squinted, "A rowboat clone?"

"No silly, a robot or a clone," Asobi nodded.

’What the fuck is she on about, what’s a robot?’ "Regardless, I don’t think Jotou was replaced in any way; that is Jotou Howllett."

"I don’t doubt that," Hotaru stroked her tail resting on her lap. "But controlled? Jotou has an enchantment in her mind, so maybe she was controlled from the outside? That’s why she didn’t talk; it has to be that."

"Or we know Jotou can let someone in, so maybe she was tortured and had to let one of Ceridwen’s ghastly ghouly friends in," the magician drank more tea.

"Stop drinking from the nozzle," Fumeko leered.

"It tastes better this way!"

"Like I said; that’s Jotou Howllett—nothing else," the detective answered.

"So she was coerced," Hotaru sprang upright.

"What could possibly coerce Jotou?" Asobi pondered.

"Maybe she liked the glory of being a new god, and joined them to ascend to greater heights," Fumeko told.

"Ping-tng!"

The teacup hit the saucer on the table, "It’s not the time to be joking Meko." Her crimson ears were bristled.

"Pick one emotion, would you?"

An illusory Asobi appeared glowing in between them with two faces on either side, "Stop fighting!" Both faces spoke in unison.

Both their attentions were drawn to the magician, who dispelled it. "I didn’t want it to be true... But I’m starting to believe we all wouldn’t even be near each other if Jotou was never here..."

"I’m not mad at you Sobi; and neither am I at Meko," Hotaru glared over to the second name.

"Then both of you start acting like you care for each other, especially now. Why do I have to always be in the middle of it?" Asobi furrowed her brows slightly. "Is this how Jotou felt between you two, all the time?"

"What if I do, and I don’t exactly wanna gush my heart out every second?" Fumeko retorted.

"Make up for it. All of us are going through a lot. Meko has her own things, and Aru has her own. And without Jotou around to lead and be with us, I’ve had less time to talk with my friends and I feel like some discount store manager," Asobi pouted.

"I love Stella, but we’re a party of four—from Kria till now. We all need each other, and even when one of us goes bye, we’re broken... So, until we get Jotou back, you listen to me," Asobi stood up and held her wand in both hands.

Both of them looked to her in silence.

"We’ll be okay when this all ends. Why don’t we start with what Meko actually means," Asobi plopped back down onto the sofa, and drank of her tea by the nozzle.

"...Whatever it is, Jotou’s under a lot of pressure; but I think she’s still on our side. Think about it; the cult already attacked us once, why the need to lure us somewhere?

Even Ms Ward called it, this house isn’t safe. But we still have a roof and some sense of safety here. I think Jotou’s playing a game with them; something to persuade them to do what she needs them to do.

But she has to play carefully, cause if she screws up, the game’s done. She attacked us, with both hands on her sword."

"That sword turned into whatever it needed to be. And it looks like she’s gotten a new stunning set of armour," Hotaru eyed the floor. "Maybe those new things might be coercing her? Not fully, but just enough. There have been cursed things in history before."

"I don’t think so, and not my point. Jotou only fights with one hand; her other hand she uses like a shield, or to grab, cast a spell, whatever. She was clearly holding back."

"She did use her sword one-handed though. After you left, she used it to fight me," Asobi affirmed.

"How long after I was gone?"

"Hmmmmm... I don’t know."

"A long while. Once she started using her sword like she would, she pinned Asobi down and defeated Ben within seconds," Hotaru replied. "Only after that did she stop, at which point you blinked at my feet."

"Adds up with my theory then. She must’ve felt cornered. Even then, she could’ve struck us with her thunder spell a dozen or so times and win instantly—she didn’t."

"Asobi... honestly fought like how I’ve seen Jotou would," Hotaru glanced over.

"All a part of my masterful performance," she beamed.

"Didn’t you two get your minds fucked with a few months back?" the detective questioned.

"Nothing that crazy, but yeah."

"Then it’s obvious your mind and Jotou’s have been jumbled up to some extent."

"Well, Asobi’s also just a good actor," Hotaru shrugged a shoulder.

"I’d say both can be true," Jotou’s voice spoke with a smirk, prompting Hotaru’s ears to spike up.

"Don’t do that," both Hotaru and Fumeko scolded after a sudden glance around the living room.

"Sorry," Asobi squeaked.

"Regardless, if Jotou didn’t kill us outright, it must align with the cult’s motives."

"Which are?" Hotaru looked to the detective.

"I don’t know, but they know killing me wouldn’t be easy with my affinity. With yours and Sobi’s, healing through it and hiding away isn’t hard on our own. I don’t think they care about Tiffy, or even consider Ben.

They can’t kill us, so they wanna intimidate us. It’s the only logic that makes sense. The fact Jotou has her magic and isn’t escaping, I think bodes well for us. She’s doing something to help us."

"She definitely held herself back, but that could also be Jotou not wanting to hurt us... or kill us too badly. She never attacked Aru, like at all," Asobi proclaimed.

"I think one’s true and one’s wrong. She knew to not harm Aru, or else we’d be dead. But another thing, was when she threw her sword at me. That’s how I got to the spaces in between.

It’s how I got Kineko, who was prepared just for me to be tortured. Based on what the shapeshifter said, I think she’s the one who might’ve implemented the idea for Kineko to be there, in the hopes that I could get to her.

Jotou doesn’t know my affinity’s down, so she must’ve assumed I could blink towards her. When she saw I couldn’t, she figured I can force my way in; she must know what that location is.

Another piece of evidence is the shapeshifter’s tone; he sounded almost jealous of the other gods. It spoke about something, like as if Jotou got to it—piss it off so as to act irrationally.

Think about it, when we’ve faced the new gods, the shapeshifter’s always felt untouchable and composed. To act so recklessly and brag about it to me? It doesn’t add up, and it makes more sense that someone rattled it—namely, Jotou."

"So Jotou is on our side! Hooray!" confetti blasted out of the magician’s wand.

"Okay, I understand," one crimson ear bent down. "The sequence of events makes more sense now, and Jotou’s doing what she can... That somehow doesn’t make me feel any better," Hotaru folded her arms into herself.

"She had to be careful," Fumeko articulated.

"By decimating us and treating us like complete strangers? Intruders?"

"What would you do in her position Aru? Jotou can’t run, hide or heal lethal injuries as she takes them."

"Something that doesn’t break her morals and who she is? I get it, I understand why... I still feel," tears left her brilliant blue eyes that she wiped off. "Betrayed."

Fumeko’s eyes narrowed—not in frustration or contempt at the redhead. "She got ambushed and caught. All she has is her grit, her wits and her tongue."

"I kinda agree with Hotaru. Jotou’s suuuper-duper very clever, but I do feel betrayed... She grabbed me by the throat and threw me around. It was fun to be picked up, but it hurt a lot..." Asobi shrank down.

The brunette’s eyes had mulberry shadows wisp around, "Feel however you two want, I’m sure Jotou’s not doing it for the fun of it. She’ll apologize once this is all said and done. I trust her—till the end."

"It’s not just about trust. She’s done serious damage to us. When this all ends, are we just going to forget about it and be a party again?" Hotaru questioned whilst petting her tail.

"That’s on each of us. Are you gonna stop dating her because of this?" Fumeko glared.

"No, obviously not... It’s conflicting, okay? I miss her and... she’s... Who knows what she’s going through..." the redhead steadied her breathing while the world around her began to blur.

"Hotaru..." Asobi called.

Hotaru took slow, deep breaths, "I’m fine."

Fumeko looked away. ’I’m the one scarred here, with a sister missing an arm; if anyone should be complaining...’ She glanced over to the elf. She sighed, closed her eyes, and then opened them up again.

"What is it?" Asobi noticed.

"Blink- NGH!" Fumeko’s body contorted and froze up. Her eyes were flooded by black shadows filled with a burst of stars of every hue for a moment, before her entire body went limp and she collapsed to the floor. "Ngh... hhah..."

Hotaru rushed to her side, "Are you insane!?" her widened eyes scanned all over while her hands glowed a faint blue.

Asobi darted by her other side with bubbled up eyes, "Why did you do that!?"

"I... wanted to test it," she croaked. A tear left her eye as she pushed herself back up. "I’m fine, the pain’s gone."

"Shut up," Hotaru gave her a once over.

Asobi helped her up.

Hotaru placed a hand on the brunette’s chest and casted Calm over it.

"What, you’re not gonna take off my clothes now?" Fumeko panted.

"Huh?" Asobi sounded and fluttered her lashes.

"I said shut up Meko," Hotaru furrowed her brows in concentration while the spell’s water seeped into the shirt.

"Are you okay?"

"Like I said, I’m fine."

"Good," Hotaru took her palm away and bared her fangs. "Don’t. Do that. Again."

"No promises."

"Fumeko, if something happens to you, I swear... I don’t know what I’ll do with myself."

"Don’t threaten me by using yourself."

"Stop it. You’re both just angry, and I get it now; Meko’s trying to annoy you," Asobi commanded.

"I’m not trying to do anything," Fumeko huffed and fell back to sit down on the sofa. "...What do I do? I can figure out everything I want and need. But I had to still use my affinity to get anywhere."

"Meko..." Hotaru sat down beside her.

Fumeko clutched the sofa cover and the tear rolled down her eye. "You don’t get it. You don’t feel useless."

"You’re not useless Meko," Asobi sat on her other side.

"What were you two talking about still feeling some way, even if it’s not factual..."

"..."

"Fine, feel useless. It doesn’t mean you’re not valuable," Hotaru hugged her from the side.

Asobi lied her head on the brunette’s, and the redhead’s crimson ears fell upon the magician’s hat, which promptly fell over.

Fumeko lied in between, and let herself succumb to rest, whilst a crimson tail curled onto her lap... ’What a mess you’ve left me with paranoiac... You better clean this up later.’