Bound Together (11 page)

Damn it, I got myself into this, I had to be a big girl and deal with the consequences of my stupid mouth.

“Yeah, I meant it,” I said, more loudly this time. “I just—I apparently have no filter at all today. I'm sorry for being an inappropriate idiot.”

Misaki's lips curved into the sort of smile that both excited and terrified me.

“I'm not sorry you did. You aren't an idiot and it wasn't inappropriate, Karin,” she told me, quite firmly. “I've noticed how you look at me, how you get easily flustered when we talk, how you go so far out of your way for my sake. It has been... rather obvious.”

“Well, I just figured that since you'd been immersed in a retrograde culture for so long that I thought maybe you wouldn't understand—”

Misaki erupted into a fit of giggles, interrupting my poor excuse before I could even get it halfway out of my mouth. She gave me a look that could only be described as coquettish and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms across her abbreviated chest.

“Karin, I spent a great deal of time with the maidservants,” she pointed out, as if she were explaining a simple concept to a particularly dense child. I wasn't offended at all, since at the moment I felt like a moron.

“Y-yeah, well, I just didn't think—”

“Maybe you should think more,” Misaki suggested, giggling. “The maidservants were discouraged from marrying and needed to be available for attendant duties, but what they did among themselves was usually overlooked as long as it wasn't conspicuous.”

I didn't expect that, but it made sense. “So, you're saying that the maids, they would, well, offer each other, um,
intimate
comfort?”

“It wasn't universal, but neither was it especially rare.”

Several moments of silence passed as I pulled into the parking lot, trying to find my marked parking spot. It wasn't all that easy with all the snow on the ground and in the air. I only had to turn around once before my addled and scrambled mind was able to match up obvious landmarks.

“I know that's not exactly the same thing,” Misaki continued, her tone shifting subtly to become more thoughtful. “Centuries ago, the maidservants were peasant women sold into indentured servitude. Most dreamed of husbands, children, a family to raise of their own. What comfort they sought in another maid's arms was borne from desperation.”

I didn't respond to that. My mind was full of fluffy thoughts right now and I didn't really want to consider the entirely fucked-up sort of bullshit that made up the world that Misaki suffered through for most of her life.

Well, we were home now and the delivery boy would hopefully be arriving within the next twenty minutes, so I killed the engine. Misaki opened her door and stepped outside. I followed suit. The snow was still coming down pretty hard, but we were relatively well-shielded from the icy wind by the apartment complex itself.

We took the stairs. I tapped my ID on the auto-lock and opened the door to the apartment. It was nice and warm inside as I'd set the thermostat before we left. Misaki followed me inside and shut the door behind her.

“I know you're not like that, Karin,” she said.

So much for the tiny shred of hope that she'd let the matter drop at least until after I got some alcohol in my system. I sat down on the edge of the bed near the small table with the ashtray and lit a cigarette.

“Not like what?”

“You aren't seeking comfort out of desperation,” Misaki clarified.

I sighed and puffed a bit. “Sometimes I feel like I am.”

“It's not the same thing. You aren't thinking about a husband, raising a half-dozen children, purchasing a plot of land to till for your own and an official voice on the village council.” Misaki's eyes went a little unfocused as she sifted through memories of the distant past. “Am I wrong? You are a woman, perhaps a little beyond marriageable age—”

“Hey! I'm only twenty-nine! You're over six hundred years old!”

“That has nothing to do with this,” Misaki insisted, her tone clearly amused. “I know you aren't the same.”

“No, it's not the same,” I agreed. “I have no interest in men at all. Never have, never will, never want to.”

Misaki frowned. “But you are not a maidservant to a noble family. You are free to do as you wish, you make your own decisions. You do important work that demands the use of your intellect rather than the simple labors of the body.”

“Yeah, so what?” I exhaled a plume of smoke up toward the ceiling, where the air filter and exchanger caught it and sucked it up before it could settle on the acoustic-textured ceiling and possibly stain.

“Why have you not already taken a wife?”

“I wouldn't describe it as 'taking' a wife, really,” I explained, a little uncomfortable, but trying to remind myself that Misaki was still working from a
really old
playbook. “As for why I'm not actively in a relationship now... ? I don't really know.”

The look Misaki gave me was dubious.

“Okay, okay, fine. I
do
actually know. You asked me why I smoked earlier—the conversation that started
this
conversation—and I told you that I was a weak person. You might contest that, but it's really true.”

Those fox ears laid back against her head. “I don't think it is.”

“I'm a little cowardly when it comes to this sort of thing,” I admitted. It wasn't exactly a lie—I was very, very bad at the whole dating and courtship thing—but neither was it the whole truth. I didn't like the dating process itself, which felt like nothing more than turning love into a commodity to be traded. Excuses, excuses.

“I don't have a lot of friends, and I don't like the process of dating. I'm not really big on going clubbing or barhopping. I really can't calm myself down when trying to talk to girls and, well, I'm afraid that I'll start really liking someone, only for them to turn me down in the end.”

“I think I understand.” Misaki offered a dangerous faint smile. “You've just never met anyone that you felt a strong enough connection with to overcome your fears of dealing with potential rejection.”

I tried my hardest to meet Misaki's eyes. “That's a very economical and accurate description of the situation, yes.”

“Until now.”

“Until now,” I agreed, again completely without thinking. The look on my face must've been one of abject horror. I sputtered, clearly intent on digging my hole even deeper. “I mean—that is, what I wanted to say is—”

A warm finger pressed against my lips, silencing my objections. Misaki gave me a look that defied description. Her ears flicked a bit, but seemed to be perked straight up. Her fluffy tail swished around. I couldn't get an accurate read on her emotional state at all.

“Karin,” Misaki murmured. “You've been wonderful. You're the first wielder of the Relic who has treated me with dignity and respect. In the past six centuries, the blade has passed through a great many hands. House Tsukimura are only the most recent. I've been in the custody of two other noble Houses, and not a one of them ever viewed me as anything but a living weapon, a tool to be used to slay specters.”

I couldn't really come up with an appropriate response to that. She didn't sound like she was finished yet, either, so I remained silent and simply listened. Misaki sat down on the edge of the bed next to me—
very
next to me. I flinched slightly as I felt her tail curl around my lower back.

“There is nobody in the world with whom I'd rather be with than you,” Misaki finished, leaning forward so that she had to look up at me to meet my eyes.

“B-but we've only known each other for two days! Not
even
two days! It just—it doesn't work like that. This isn't a fairy tale where the prince is swept off his feet by the princess within hours after they first lay eyes on each other.”

Misaki giggled and scooted closer, leaning against me. The warmth emanating from her body felt really, really good, which was definitely, absolutely very dangerous. My brain was starting to melt into a puddle of goo inside my head, which was not very useful for coming up with intelligent responses.

“What are you—”

“Shh. I'm telling you that I like you, too, and that I want to return your feelings. That's all I'm saying.”

To say I was stunned would have been an understatement. A really, really fucking big understatement, even if what she said would have been incredibly obvious to pretty much anyone who wasn't a moron. I guess it must've shown in my face, because Misaki started giggling again, but after a moment her laughter died down completely. She took hold of my chin and turned me to face her.

“Misaki...”

“It's hard, to be all alone in the world,” she murmured. “You don't need to be afraid any more, Karin. I'm with you, with you all the way.”

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against mine. I closed my eyes as I felt Misaki's free hand coming around and drawing me close in a warm embrace. I felt my muscles go limp, my nerves go numb and my mind turn to mush. I feebly tried to wrap my arms around Misaki's lower back, but I could barely move or function.

I could feel the soft fur of her tail against my lower back, the gentle squeeze of her embrace. Her lips tasted of faintly sweet fruit. The scent of flowers, the aroma of cherry blossoms in full bloom, filled my nostrils. My entire being felt cool, calm and clear. For one single, solitary moment, all was right with the world.

Misaki broke the kiss and drew just slightly back. Her lips curved into that trademarked dangerous faint smile of hers.

“Um, that was... that was really good,” I managed.

Her ears twitched, laying flat and forward. “It was really good for me, too.”

“There were
definitely
some sparks there.”

“Oh, yes,” Misaki agreed, her voice becoming sultry. “
Lots
of sparks.”

My phone rang.

Misaki giggled as I answered the notification. It wasn't a video or voice call, but an instant message from the delivery boy letting me know that he was at the gate. I replied with the daily guest gate code and set the phone down.

“Is that our meal?”

“Yeah, it's here.” I stood up and stretched a little before walking to the door. I waited a few seconds to hear the knock before opening it. A very familiar young man in his early twenties with a short-cropped, peroxide-bleached haircut stood holding two pizza boxes and a six pack of dark amber ale.

“Got your pizzas right here, Karin. Did you pay already when you ordered?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I had Josh add it onto my tab. He just charges it to my credit card once a month.”

“Shit, if it weren't for us, you'd starve, wouldn't you?”

“If it weren't for me, you'd go out of business,” I countered. “I'll have you know, I
do
know how to cook. I just don't feel like it most days and I really like pizza and beer.”

“Sure, sure, go ahead and tell yourself that.” The delivery boy, Alan, snickered, catching a glimpse of Misaki through the open door. She smiled and waved to him. “Ooh, she's cute. Never thought I'd see
you
actually bring someone home, not since that big knock-down, drag-out with what's-her-name—that redhead? Jessie, right?”

“H-hey! Mind your own business,” I snapped, feeling my cheeks heat up under Alan's gentle ribbing. I did my best to block any further view of Misaki with my body, but it was probably too late. He'd already caught a good, long look at her with her vulpine features completely visible. Considering Alan's nerdy interests, though, I doubted that he'd actually think it was anything unusual.

“Fine, fine. You've got exceptional taste, at least. Cosplay girls are the best! Tell her the
kitsune
set looks great!”

“Just get out of here, Alan,” I groused, more than a little relieved he mistook Misaki's ears and tail for an eclectic and nerdy fashion sense. “The snow's going to bury your car if you don't get moving and we would like to eat our dinner in peace.”

“See ya in two days, Karin.”

After shouting a few good-natured swear words at him, I shut and latched the door behind him, precariously balancing the pizza and beer on one arm. Misaki came over to help relieve some of my burden. She took the beer from the top and set it down on the larger dining table.

We deployed the pizzas. I opened one of the boxes and the most wonderful smell started to waft off the hot, melted, caramelized mozzarella cheese. Misaki darted into the kitchen and retrieved plates.

“This looks amazing,” she murmured, staring at the pizza, wide-eyed.

“It
is
amazing. This place is makes the best pizza I've ever had in my life. Get yourself a few pieces, grab a beer and let's eat.”

caffeine

I woke up the next morning expecting to have a hangover, at least, but I felt remarkably rested, energized and ready to face the day. I wondered how much my new circumstances had to do with that.

“Mm.” Misaki opened one eye and smiled at me.

“Good morning. Want some coffee or tea?”

“Tea.”

I sat up and slipped off the mattress. Misaki was still mostly buried beneath the sheet and comforter, clearly enjoying the warmth. Outside, the snow was once again falling and condensation clouded the windows to the point I could barely see through them.

I felt a spring in my step that I hadn't felt in years. Part of this was due to the job offer from AEGIS. I would be making just over twice my salary at the Records & Licensing Agency, not counting the initial signing bonus that I'd managed to wrangle out of Agent Williams when I spoke to him last night.

Clearly I was much better at contract negotiation when inebriated.

I was signing on as an independent agent, rather than a regular member of the unit. This didn't surprise me all that much. Most of the AEGIS field agents were former Special Forces types with combat training that made my pathetic skills look like the equivalent of a schoolyard delinquent. People like me, the irregulars with no formal military training, were sort of put on retainer.

Operational security meant Williams couldn't tell me how many others there were, but the indication I got was “not many.” With the method of creation presumably lost to time, wielders of True Relics were likely vanishingly rare. The sort of financial incentives AEGIS was willing to casually throw at me spoke volumes.

Williams hadn't told me much and I doubted that I'd ever truly be “in the know” with the agency. I was told that I wouldn't have a nine-to-five schedule, that I'd set my own schedule as I worked my cases. Since I didn't really have a social life to speak of, it worked out fine for me. Travel would definitely be a part of the job. I wasn't exactly worldly but I was reasonably sure I could deal with a travel-heavy job. I did speak three languages, after all. Sort of. My Japanese was pretty bad and my Korean was even worse.

I walked into the kitchen and filled the teapot with water, setting it on the stove to boil. Misaki might love tea, but I needed coffee and I needed it now. I opened up a fresh bag of grounds and set the coffee maker to work.

Aside from the AEGIS job, the
other
source of my new-found cheer was currently laying in my bed, still curled up underneath the blankets. I could see a stray glimmer of red-tinged gold peeking out from the tangled comforter. Misaki seemed singularly unwilling to get out of bed, which didn't surprise me in the slightest considering the weather.

A few minutes later and I walked back over to the bed, carrying a mug in each hand. I set the tea-containing mug on the table near the foot of the bed and sat down near it, sipping my coffee pensively. I pulled a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it.

I glanced at the lump underneath the blankets. “Enjoying yourself?”

“It's very warm,” came the contented response.

“Your tea is ready, by the way,” I told her. There was some movement under the comforter and Misaki emerged at the foot of the bed. Her voluminous mass of hair was disheveled, but her ears were perked up and her eyes clear and attentive. She sat down next to me and took her tea from the table, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip.

“You know, until I met you, I never actually slept in a bed before,” Misaki admitted.

“What, really?” I gawked at her through a rising tendril of smoke. “In six hundred years you've never
once
slept in a bed?”

“No, never,” Misaki murmured, her ears drooping slightly forward. She sipped at her tea and didn't bother trying to hide the pink flush on her cheeks. “Previous wielders of the Relic would always order me to disperse my body and lay dormant within the sword.”

“Why?”

“Maintaining my physical form draws mana from the Relic's wielder,” she explained as she drank her tea. “The previous wielders would not allow me to draw energy for what they considered frivolities.”

“That's stupid. Maintaining your existence isn't a frivolity. And didn't they also make you play servant and do all sorts of stupid and pointless cleaning and cooking tasks that any idiot could do? Wasn't
that
also a waste of mana?”

Misaki's blush intensified. “W-well, if I'm left within the Relic for too long, I grow weaker to the point where I would need to draw upon a significant amount of mana to return to my full strength.”

“I guess that makes sense, but still...”

“It also served to limit my autonomy,” she continued, her expression becoming troubled. “I can only act on my own when I manifest physically. When my spirit withdraws inside the Relic, I can communicate with the wielder, but I can't actually
do
anything.”

I didn't respond to that. The last thing I wanted now was to get myself all fucking pissed off about the horrible things Misaki had been subjected to by the Relic's wielders and their power-hungry families.

“B-but since you can't use your mana for anything, you probably don't even notice that I'm drawing upon it.” Misaki looked at me expectantly. “Um, can you? If you can, and it's painful or tiring, I would be happy to ease your burden—”

I held a hand up to stop her. “It doesn't bother me. Really.”

She didn't look convinced. I set my coffee cup down and took one of her hands in my own, squeezing it lightly.

“Look, Misaki, if it was a problem I would definitely tell you, but it's not. I can feel the connection between the Relic and my... soul or whatever, but it's just
there
. It doesn't hurt or make me feel tired. I'm aware of it, but it doesn't feel like much of anything.”

Misaki's expression became pensive. “That's interesting.”

“What is?”

“That you can notice it at all,” she said. “That indicates receptivity, but drawing mana from a receptive should feel tiring, even a little painful at times. Curious.”

I didn't really know what she was going on about. “I told you, it doesn't feel tiring
or
hurt. It just feels like a little tickle, a light brush on my consciousness. It's not unpleasant at all. Actually, I sort of like it.”

“You do?”

“Mm-hm. It's a reminder.”

Misaki blinked and tilted her head quizzically. “Of what?”

“That you're with me.”

Her blush threatened to take over her entire face. I laughed and puffed on my smoke a little before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

“Y-you've been so kind to me,” she mumbled.

I drained the contents of my coffee mug. “Yes, that's usually what people do when they like someone.”

“B-but I'm just a—”

I placed a finger on her lips, silencing her mid-sentence. “What's this nonsense I hear coming out of your mouth? You've been so much more assertive since we killed the specter in the mall. It's been really nice.”

Misaki didn't say anything.

“Don't start down that road again,” I warned her, keeping my tone light. “If you do, I'll get mad, and you really don't want to see me mad. I'm serious.”

She smiled a little, but still looked troubled. “Because you aren't restricting my access to mana, I'm more free to act according to how I feel and think, but I don't want to be a burden on you.”

“I just told you that you aren't.”

“I don't know if it's safe for you if I remain in my physical form for extended periods of time.” Misaki's voice was troubled and her ears drooped down just slightly. “I have no idea if there's an upper limit on the mana required.”

“I'm sure there is,” I said, trying to sound confident, though in truth I wasn't. I'm sure she knew, but I went on anyway. “These things seem to have rules in the same way natural forces do. It's not all arbitrary.”

Misaki's pensive expression returned. “That's true.”

“It may be called magic, but the scientific method can still be applied to it since it's obviously not random, has limitations and behaves in certain predictable ways.” I stood up to refresh our drinks and returned to the edge of the bed. The digital clock on the coffee maker told me I had another three hours before we were to meet the AEGIS handler, and I was determined to make the best of them.

“That makes sense.” Misaki accepted her second cup of tea and was soon sipping away contentedly.

“It has to, or else AEGIS wouldn't be able to use technology to replicate the same sort of effects,” I reminded her. “Anyway, we're getting a bit off track. The point is, when we fought the zombie-head-thing in the mall sub-level, you were drawing off my mana to use all of that magic, right?”

“Yes. I have no choice but to draw mana through the Relic's wielder. It was a condition of the invocation that binds me to the sword and anchors me into physical reality.”

“A security feature?” I wondered.

Misaki nodded. “The bound spirit depends on the wielder for the energy needed to exist and to fight, to prevent the spirit from turning on its master. I understand the early artificial spirits did not have this limitation and would often go rogue.”

“Just another shackle attached to the slave collar,” I growled. “Considering all that you went through, I can't really blame them.”

Misaki nodded but offered no comment. I drank my coffee, deciding against lighting another cigarette. The roads would be problematic, to say the least, and we needed to get ready to meet our point of contact with AEGIS. Time enough to get a shower, throw on some clothes, half-ass my makeup and hair and get going before the snow and the stupid people on the road adversely affected traffic.

“I'm going to get in the shower.” I let my gaze settle on Misaki's disheveled mop and smiled faintly. “You might want to do something with your hair. There's a brush and comb near the vanity.”

She reached up and felt the mass of tangles in her locks. “Um, this is a new experience, to be sure...”

“One of the downsides of sleeping in a bed, I'm afraid.”