Like to thank Lerche, Zack, Orlean, and E.L. Toh for
commenting on this chapter, and all those who've sent
me encouragement on this series. Every little bit
helps. :)
***
Project Kawaii: Scramble War!
(an original magical girl fic)
By Ammadeau
Roy.Fokker@UNSpacy.org
http://www.thekeep.org/~amm/
Episode 4: The Making of a Magical Girl
***
"Junko, breakfast!"
"Coming, uncle!" Junko shouted back, yawning a bit as she
sat up in bed. She looked around, scratching her head in
confusion. Something seemed out of place, but in her half-awake
condition, it was hard to tell what. Her room did seem a bit more
girlie than she had remembered it. Did her bed have pink frills
before?
"Junko-chan, your breakfast is getting cold!" shouted
another voice from downstairs, causing the cute girl to blink in
surprise. It was the voice of a woman, but Junko was sure that her
uncle didn't even have girlfriend, much less a wife. Then again,
the voice did sound familiar. Her memory was still addled, making
hard to be sure of anything.
*Better go investigate,* Junko thought as she hopped out of
bed, instinctively grabbing the stuffed bunny from the chair next to
her as she left her cute room behind.
The house seemed to have been expanded while she slept
and Junko found it difficult to navigate the elongated and twisted
hallway, but she eventually managed to find the massive spiral
staircase and followed it down to the kitchen. There everything
looked shiny and new, gleaming with the polished metallic look of
a classic car show.
In the center of the oddly distorted room was a simple wood
table. At it sat her uncle Kozo in a business suit, sipping at tea as
he read through the financial pages. Combined with his neatly
combed hair, he looked more respectable than Junko had ever seen
him before. Next to him, in a house dress and apron, sat her new
teacher, Shoko Matsuno. She stood, smiled broadly, and walked
over to Junko. She gave her a kiss on the cheek as she said, "And
how is our little Ju-chan this morning?"
*Is this lady on drugs?* Junko thought, staring back at her
in disbelief. Noting the woman seemed to be waiting for an
answer, she replied in a monotone, "I'm fine."
"Oh no you're not!" Shoko disagreed as she suddenly
picked Junko up, spun around, and deposited in her a chair before a
'breakfast,' which consisted of a random selection of French
pastries. "You're looking oh so cute today! Isn't she, dear?"
"Of course she is!" Kozo threw down his paper to reveal a
broad grin and a camcorder pointed directly at his niece. "Our
Junko is the cutest little girl in the whole world! I can't stand to
miss a single moment of her!"
"Are you two nuts?" Junko yelled at them in anger. "I'm
just an average school girl! I'm not cute at all!"
"Oh really?" came a snide male voice from the stuffed
bunny in her arms. Junko nearly jumped back as Usagi-kun
jumped up to sit on the edge of the now empty table. It presented
her with a large hand mirror, saying, "Take a look at this."
Glancing around to the grinning faces of the adults now
crowding in closer to her, Junko accepted the mirror and slowly
tilted her head to peer into its reflection. Like the surface of a lake,
the image wavered for a moment, but then suddenly snapped into
clarity. It revealed blonde curls, blue eyes, and a cute smile that
was not her own.
Junko's scream was drowned out by the sudden flare of
trumpets blaring all around her.
"Good morning, Ju-chan!" Emi shouted in glee as the sound
of trumpets began to fade.
With narrowed eyes, Junko stared into Emi's smiling face
only inches from hers and had to wonder which was worse, her
dream or reality. At the moment, she would have preferred going
back to the dream. At least she'd still be asleep. "Ugh, what the
heck was that sound?"
"This!" Emi enthused, picking up something from the table
beside the bed and handing it to her friend. It looked like a small,
fat rabbit with a clock in its belly, blowing on a trumpet. "It's a
special alarm clock made just for me! See, you turn this ear to set
the time and you turn this one to set the alarm. Isn't it cute?"
"Adorable," Junko agreed in a flat tone as she crawled
around her unwelcome house guest to get out of bed. She felt only
a small consolation that her room had been restored to its 'not as
cute as the dream but still too cute for her tastes' state. At least her
anime videos hadn't all been replaced with various cute magical
girl shows. It was bad enough she had to be one in real life, though
that wasn't without its compensations.
Emi giggled, snuggling up to Usagi-kun as she watched her
friend walk on the floor on all fours. Junko was usually serious,
but she could be so silly at times. *That's what make's her fun!*
The carpet was soft and inviting. Junko circled a few times
before lying down and surrendering back to sleep. She smiled as
she searched for a place where no pushy, overly-cute girls would
wake her so early in the morning. This was the one day a week
when she actually could sleep in and wanted to make the most of it.
"Come on, Ju-chan! Breakfast awaits!" Emi declared. She
used her friend's bed as a spring board, doing a forward flip next to
Junko, grabbed the other girl's hand, and raced out the door all in
one motion.
*I don�t care if her house burns to the ground, no more
slumber parties!* Junko thought in groggy determination as her
'best friend' dragged her along.
Morning came unobserved in the study of the Ishiyama
household. This was because its two occupants were deep in
planning what looked to be a cross between a wedding and a war.
Blueprints and city maps were scattered all over the floor, each
marked all over in red and coated with small post-it notes.
The woman was quickly adding small notes all over the
map of the city's auditorium while the man spoke rapidly on the
phone. By an odd coincidence, she capped the marker just as he
hung up the phone.
"Done here," Ryuji told his wife with a smile.
"Me too," Michiko replied with a small giggle, crawling on
her hands and knees to curl up in her husband's waiting arms.
"Your plan is perfect as always, madam president," Ryuji
said, kissing her gently on the lips. "After her welcome home
party, our daughter will never again doubt how much we love her."
"It's only because you take my ideas and make them work,
mister president," Michiko replied with a lazy grin as she snuggled
up to his neck. "We both worked so much on this. I think we
accounted for the smallest detail. What time is it anyway?"
"Morning," Ryuji said simply as he ran his hands through
his wife's long purple hair, always carrying the scent of lilacs in
bloom. "Emi should be waking up just about now..."
Michiko blinked as she sat up, then turned to look into her
husband's eyes, knowing they had just shared the same thought.
The preparations were all in place, only waiting for their go ahead.
Their precious daughter should be awake now, so what were they
waiting for?
"Shall we say it together?" Ryuji asked with a devilish grin.
"Let's," Michiko replied with the same smile.
In perfect unison, Emi's parents stood and declared to the
heavens with fists upraised, "Now is the perfect time to show Emi-
chan how much we love her!"
"That's wonderful," Tamiko said with a gentle smile,
having suddenly appeared before the two, seemingly out of thin air.
Both husband and wife were so used to this sort of entrance that
neither so much as flinched. "But perhaps it would be better if you
both took a nice, refreshing nap first."
"We're fine!" Michiko insisted, with her husband nodding
fervently in agreement. After a moment, Ryuji added, "Besides,
we have to make it up to Emi-chan right away!"
"Yes," his wife agreed, her face downcast as a tear began to
collect in on eye. "Can you know what it's like for your own
daughter to think that you hate her? The very idea of it is like a
dagger in my heart."
"I believe I can a bit," Tamiko replied, starting to look sad
herself. She had only been thinking of her self at the time, having
no idea what she had been putting her poor father through. Though
it had been over sixteen years ago, she still felt guilty over what she
had done, even if she could not regret it.
"I was only concerned that...," Tamiko started to say, but
shook her head. "No, never mind. Though perhaps you should get
changed first. I'm not sure if it would be... prudent to go out in
public like that."
Emi's parents stared at each other, jumping back in surprise
when they realized that Michiko was wearing her husband's shirt
and slacks while Ryuji was dressed in his wife's blouse and skirt.
Neither were sure how this could have happened, but then again it
had been a long night.
"A bath, a change of clothes, and then we go out and
welcome back our daughter!" Michiko declared nervously.
"Right!" Ryuji agreed, just as nervous, as he took his wife's
arm and lead her in the general direction of their furo, the two of
them wandering around like two drunks exiting the bar after the
last call.
*Oh dear. I hope they won't do anything too rash in their
condition,* Tamiko thought in worry as she watched them leave.
A moment later, the green-haired ninja grinned, thinking of
her own preparations for Emi's welcome home party. Her son
would have to be really convincing as Emi by the time it started
and that meant lots of practice. Tamiko couldn't wait to begin.
Junko felt her eyebrow begin to twitch as she eyed the stack
of pancakes that dominated her uncle's small kitchen table. It
looked more like a scale model of a new skyscraper with the neat
pat of butter on top as the helicopter landing platform. It was the
most enormous and geometrically precise breakfast the plain girl
had ever seen. She didn't like it one bit.
"Aren't you hungry, Ju-chan?" Emi asked, looking up at her
friend while she removed several flapjacks from the center without
disturbing the stack. She had already made herself comfortable
before one of the place settings, even sampling her tall glass of
orange juice with a broad grin of approval.
"Not really...," Junko started to say, but her stomach argued
otherwise. So with a defeated shrug, the plain girl took her seat
before the tower of pancakes rising up before her. She tried
imitating Emi in removing a few from the middle, but only
managed to break off a small piece of one. With a shrug, she
popped it into her mouth. These pancakes didn't need butter, she
realized, as the small piece melted in her mouth with golden fluffy
goodness. As ridiculous as it looked, it was very tasty.
"Did my uncle make these?" Junko asked as she sipped at
her orange juice, freshly squeezed, and looked around for the man
in question. He seemed oddly absent with Emi in her pjs sitting in
his kitchen. His normal breakfast had been average, but it would
be no surprise to her if he made a special effort for his dream guest.
Then a more likely thought occurred to her. "Or did you make the
breakfast, Emi?"
Emi giggled as if Junko had just told a funny joke. "Of
course not! Ats-chan made it!"
*Oh yeah, the strange ninja girl from last night,* Junko
thought with a nod. Apparently she did more than protecting the
spoiled little rich girl from harm. Junko blinked in surprise to find
her plate now filled with three pancakes, and the syrup bottle
having somehow translocated itself about a foot closer to her.
*What the...?*
*The woman designated 'Atsuko' served you,* Akito dryly
informed her. *She seems able to move swiftly enough to avoid
detection by normal human perception.*
Junko's eyes were wide with wonder, then she grinned as
another thought occurred to her. *Hey, do you think I could move
that fast transformed?*
*Searching ability listing... Small speed improvements can
be achieved untransformed, while host can move up to four times
faster than normal for brief periods transformed. That would still
place you under the speed of Atsuko, but if you wish I can
concentrate on modifying it.*
*Definitely!* Junko enthused, but then thought over
something else her magic armband's AI had said. *Wait a minute...
I can use powers when I'm not transformed?!*
*To a limited extent, yes,* Akito replied in his usual
lecturing tone. *Our communicating like this is one such power. I
was originally designed to be only used when transformed, but I
have been adapted for more practical uses by my various hosts.
Point of fact, I have been used more often when the host wasn't
transformed.*
*Why didn't you say so before?!* Junko raged, wishing the
armband had a neck so she could strangle it.
*All of the prior usages you have indicated required
transformation.*
*That's because I thought...* Junko grit her teeth and gave
up. There was no point in arguing with a computer program, even
one that sounded human. She stored this information for future
use, feeling it was bound to come in handy.
"Aren't you going to eat, Ju-chan?" Emi asked her friend
with some concern. Then she smiled brightly and added, "They're
good, and they have all the stuff you need to become big and strong
like Ats-chan!"
*Geez, she even makes cute sounds when she eats,* Junko
thought, having never noticed it before with the background noise
of the school yard. Deciding it wasn't worth commenting on, the
plain girl shrugged and started on her breakfast. At least she got a
good meal out of all of this.
"Ohohohohohoho!" Lady Morgana chuckled madly as her
long labor of the night was finally completely. The plain, yet
functional, robot design had been wholly transformed into a work
of art that even the greatest masters would weep at the sight of.
The beauty of the actual robot, when she could somehow acquire
the parts to build it, would dazzle all who were fortuitous enough
to behold its magnificence.
An evil genius as wonderful as hers couldn't be expected to
work whenever she simply wished it to, however. If that were true,
she would have already had her revenge and become the dark
mistress of the world long ago. So while she waited for inspiration
to strike, Lady Morgana had spent her time sprucing up her new
evil lair.
Her old lair hadn't been nearly as nice. An old abandoned
apartment complex? Whatever had she been thinking? Still, there
was a certain evil about the place already that really hadn't needed
much touching up. So she had endured it, if only for the ambiance.
An old abandoned factory was certainly a step up from her
previous residence, possessing all the facilities needed to concoct
her wildest evil desires, not to mention being a whole lot clearer.
Despite its obvious benefits though, the place was a bit sterile. It
really needed a dark mistress's touch.
The first step had been throwing all those nasty cigarettes
away. Lady Morgana supposed that they belonged to her loyal
minions. She would allow some perks besides being able to serve
under her perfectly evil leadership, but there would be no smoking
in her evil lair. Lung capacity was of critical importance to an evil
villainess and she wouldn't allow hers to be tainted by second hand
smoke.
The robotic arms, which had created her first shining metal
automaton, found new purpose as semi-skilled painters. Lady
Morgana wasn't really concerned over how much paint got
splashed about, as long as enough light tones were taken out of the
place, replaced with grey and black to create the proper dark mood.
Her evil work completed for now, Lady Morgana put on her
pajamas, with little bat designs on them, curled up on her black silk
sheets covering her evil water bed, and fell into a deep sleep.
All the woodland animals breathed a collective sigh of
relief as the insane laughter finally stopped, only to unanimously
shudder as the woman they had come to fear began to laugh in her
sleep.
Kozo glared at his alarm clock as he awoke, still not used to
his new schedule. Before, he'd just grab something in IMI's
cafeteria, but now he had to get up early to make his niece's
breakfast. He supposed he didn't have to. He could just leave her
to fend for herself, but he promised his younger brother that he'd
look out for her. Besides, he was still making amends for the
armband incident and his little hobby.
"Good morning, Junko. I'll have breakfast ready in just a
minute..." Kozo trailed off, noticing that breakfast had already
been prepared; there were enough pancakes for a dozen hungry
lumberjacks. What shocked him to silence, however, was the
person sitting next to his niece. A little blonde girl smiling up at
him, dressed in cute pink pajamas with a grin he knew all too well.
"Where did I leave my camcorder?!" Kozo thought out loud
as he raced out of the kitchen, not wanting to miss a single moment
of Emi-chan sitting in his own apartment. He'd be able to trade
copies of the footage through the Emi-chan fanclub for some really
good stuff.
Junko sighed as her uncle ran out of the room. She had
forgotten all about his little obsession this morning, but didn't even
feel like going back to her room to get her baseball bat. Then she
blinked as she looked up to find Emi's face only inches from hers,
studying her with concern as she asked, "What's the matter, Ju-
chan?"
Junko stood and paced around the kitchen a bit, to keep
Emi at a distance while covertly glancing for signs of the ninja girl
lurking in the non-existent shadows. She found it hard to put her
thoughts into words, but seeing Emi still staring up with her wide
blue eyes, Junko decided she had to say something.
"Don't you get tired... I mean, don't you ever wish people
weren't always bugging you?" Noting Emi's blank look, Junko
elaborated, "You're followed everywhere by a pack of trained ninja
There are people constantly filming you or clamoring for your
attention. Don't you ever wish they'd all just leave you alone?"
"Of course not! Why should I? They're always so much
fun!" Emi exclaimed gleefully. Then suddenly her smile turned to
a frown as the light in her eyes faded. "Besides, they're all Hime
Star-chan's fans now."
*Not again,* Junko thought with her own frown as she
looked at Emi's downcast expression. The little blonde girl was so
cheerful most of the time that it made it easy to forget about her
recent troubles, or the fact that Junko was the indirect cause of
them. A sense of guilt gnawed at the plain girl once again.
"You wish!" Junko declared confidently with hands on
hips. "Hime Star-chan is a cool mysterious figure who only
appears when the city is in danger. The raving fans will quickly
realize they can't hound her every moment and that's when they'll
all coming running after you again.
"And I bet that most of them are so obsessed with their
precious Emi-chan that they wouldn't notice another cute girl no
matter what she did. You're fans are rabid, Emi, and my uncle is
proof!"
Emi blinked at her friend in confusion. "What do you mean
about your uncle, Ju-chan? Are you saying that he thinks I'm
cute?"
Junko fell over in surprise, only to be caught by invisible
hands and set back upright, along with a sympathetic pat on the
head. She stared at Emi, trying to figure the girl out. Junko knew
the girl was smart, she knew she was observant; so how in the
world could she miss the fact that Kozo was practically drooling
over her?
"Trust me, he thinks your very cute," Junko managed to say
after a few moments. "He's a big fan of yours. Even has a
sickeningly large collection of stuff with your picture on them."
"Really?" Emi asked as her eyes lit up with curiosity. "I
want to see!"
"No, you don't. Trust me," Junko muttered, mostly to
herself.
Camcorder now firmly in hand with a fresh tape, Kozo was
racing back to the kitchen in order to add to his collection when he
was suddenly knocked off his feet as the ground shook violently.
He really hoped it wasn't another giant robot. He didn't want to see
the apartment that he had finally broken in get destroyed by a stray
energy blast.
Hesitantly, Kozo crawled to the window and pulled back
the edge of the shade so he could peer outside without being seen.
With all the police cars, large trucks, vans, helicopters, and the
single stretch limo it looked like a press conference was about to
take place just outside.
Either that or a hostage negotiation. Kozo really hoped it
wasn't the latter as he noted the IMI logo on all the civilian
vehicles. He had called and explained everything last night. The
butler had said everything was fine. They couldn't have
misunderstood and thought he was taking credit for kidnapping
Emi-chan, could they?
Seeing his two employers calmly step out of the limo and
carefully scan the surrounding area, Kozo flinched as their eyes
passed over him. He didn't like facing them under the best of
circumstances, but now they seemed to be searching for a target for
their pent-up rage and he quickly decided that it wouldn't be him.
"Emi-chan, your parents are here!" Kozo exclaimed with a
forced smile as he marched stiffly back into the kitchen. "Why
don't you go outside and say hello?"
Junko stared at her uncle, wondering why he was so
nervous that Emi's parents had finally shown up. He had even
forgotten his camcorder. Sure, he had been a nuisance for a while,
but hadn't done anything really wrong. Well, they might be a bit
alarmed about his little collection, but that was safely locked away
and Junko didn't feel like turning in her own uncle. She still
needed a place to stay, after all.
Emi blinked at the silly man, grinning in joy as the
information sunk in. Then she frowned in thought, shrugged, and
said, "They're probably just looking for Hime Star-chan. And I'm
happy right here! I'm going to stay with my best friend Junko
forever!" Putting deeds to words, Emi jumped out of her chair and
hugged her friend tight.
"Why would they ever think of looking for Hime Star-chan
here?" Kozo asked so nervously that Junko couldn't help but groan.
The plain girl gently but firmly removed herself from Emi's
hug and redirected the conversation slightly by saying, "I'm sure
your parents can't wait to see you again, Emi. You must have just
misunderstood them. I bet they really missed you!"
"You really think so, Ju-chan?" Emi asked with a catch in
her voice, holding her friend's hands for support as she looked up
at her with wide blue eyes, shimmering with unshed tears.
Junko nodded firmly, finding it harder and harder to keep
the smile on her face. If Emi's parents didn't take their daughter
back willingly, Hime Star-chan would just have to give them a
little friendly persuasion. Because there was no way that little miss
perfect was going to end up as a permanent house guest. Like
anything cute, she was something Junko could only tolerate in
small doses.
"Ju-chan, you're such a good friend!" Emi exclaimed, as
with joyful tears spilling from her eyes, she firmly embraced the
other girl.
Junko briefly considered testing out exactly what powers
she could use untransformed as she struggled for oxygen, but that
thought was cut short as her uncle suddenly scooted them both
outside, quickly saying, "Why don't the both of you go and say hi
for me. I've got to... get ready for work! Yep, can't be late for
work!"
"But it's Sunday..." Junko blinked as the door was
slammed in her face, but was quickly distracted by a noise that
suddenly erupted from somewhere behind her. With Emi still
holding her tightly, she slowly turned around, only to gape at the
large crowd gathered outside her uncle's apartment building.
Feeling a slight chill standing there in only her pjs, Junko
had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.
Michiko and Ryuji marched confidently towards the
apartment building. They'd have their precious daughter back in
time for a nice breakfast together and forget this whole silly
incident had ever occurred. They would even go back to bathing
and sleeping together, perhaps hiring tutors for Emi so she could be
with them at work. Leaving her on her own so much was probably
what had caused this whole mess in the first place.
Both were determined that from now on, not a minute
would pass that their daughter wouldn't feel the power of her
parents' love. However, they were startled out of their future plans
by the sound of a door opening. Looking up to the second floor of
the apartment building, they caught a glimpse of blonde hair.
"It's Emi-chan!" Michiko exclaimed.
Ryuji nodded. They both knew every single hair on their
precious daughter's head by heart.
Tears of joy and relief in their eyes and wide smiles on their
lips, Emi's parents raced up the steps to the second floor, arms
outstretched to embrace their daughter and smother her with their
love.
Only to stop in shock, face to face with the sight of Emi
seeking comfort in the arms of a plain-faced girl about her own
age. Emi's parents frowned over the sudden tide of jealousy that
welled up within them.
"There you are, Emi-chan," Ryuji said with a smile as he
took a step closer to his daughter. "Your mother and I have been
looking all over for you."
Actually, they had looked all over for Ichiro to get him to
tell them this address, but it amounted to the same thing in the end.
Emi looked up at him with an expression he'd never seen before
and made no move to rush to him as he had hoped, or even
relinquish her hold on the other girl.
Noting her husband's lack of results, Michiko tried her own
tactic. "We've been worried sick about you, Emi-chan," she said
with a tearful expression, biting the edge of her sleeve as if in pain.
"It got so dark and we had no idea where you were. We didn't
know if you were all right, or if you were hurt..."
Then Michiko smiled, wiping away half-formed tears as she
bent down to look her daughter in the eyes. "But that's okay, now
that we're here to take you home."
Emi's mother was sure she had won as her daughter leaned
closer to her, but then the little girl stopped suddenly, her eyes
filled with confusion, then fear as she quickly hid behind the plain
girl she was clinging so tightly to.
*This isn't going well,* Junko thought with a groan as Emi
used her as a barrier between herself and her parents. She had
thought that once Emi's parents showed up, everything would be
quickly settled and her 'best friend' would go back home where she
belonged.
Unfortunately, the girl's parents were going about it all
wrong. All they had to do was apologize for the misunderstanding,
firmly telling Emi to stop bothering Junko and come home now.
Simple and effective. But no, obviously Emi's parents, much like
Emi herself, could never do something the easy and obvious way.
It was no surprise that the spoiled blonde girl's parents were
much as Junko had imagined them. The mother was very beautiful,
her long dark purple hair flowing down to her elegant, and
obviously expensive yet functional, business dress. The father was
handsome, looking like a retired sports hero with a carefree smile.
He was also the source of Emi's blonde hair and blue eyes. They
looked like the perfect parents from a shoujo manga; not that Junko
ever read that sort of thing.
They had one other thing in common: they were both
obviously obsessed with their little girl. Coming this early in the
morning to pick her up, along with bringing along a small army of
workers and what looked to be half the city's police force. If that
wasn't enough, they stared at their daughter with an intensity that
made Junko's uncle seem uninterested in Emi by comparison.
It was clearly their fault for the cute monster their daughter
grew into, making them responsible for the small slice of hell
Junko had just been put through. Still, she was willing to let it pass
without comment since they were finally there to take Emi back.
"Come on Emi, go home with your parents," Junko told the
other girl with a smile, gesturing in the direction of the two adults.
"They obviously want you back."
Michiko nodded in agreement and said to her daughter.
"Yes, listen to the tomboy. If you stay with her much longer, some
of her uncuteness may rub off on you."
Junko's right eyebrow twitched, glaring with narrowed eyes
at the woman who was obviously pretending she didn't exist. The
plain girl had tried to be nice and help them a bit, but no, Emi's
mother couldn't be nice about it. Junko knew the source of Emi's
pushy attitude now. The woman probably thought that just because
she ran a huge corporation, she could say anything that she wanted
and people never talked back to her. Junko didn't care who the
woman was, her pride wouldn't let that comment pass.
"Listen, obasan," Junko told Emi's mother, pleased by the
woman's look of surprise, though it was probably over the fact that
Junko had tried talking to her at all. "I may be just a tomboy, but
who's the person that Emi ran to from her supposedly loving
parents, ne?"
Michiko and Ryuji both took a step back in shock, staring
with wide eyes at the smug little girl who stood firmly in the way
of getting their precious daughter back. Neither had ever met such
an ill-mannered child in all their lives.
With a forced smile, Ryuji told her, "Maybe you should
learn some manners, little girl. Then perhaps you could be cute
like Emi-chan some day."
Junko scoffed. "Look who's talking. I've seen baboons at
the zoo with better manners. At least they don't expect their
bananas to be served to them on a silver platter."
The conversation only degenerated from there.
"Good morning, Emi-chan," said a gentle feminine voice
just behind Emi.
The little girl turned around in surprise to see Tamiko had
joined them on the landing, appearing out of thin air. Emi smiled
to see the person she had always thought of as her favorite aunt,
even though they weren't actually related. "Good morning,
Tamiko-san."
"I've packed up all your things," Tamiko said, holding up
Emi's bag for emphasis. "Are you ready to go home now?"
"I suppose," Emi replied, staring dejectedly at the ground.
It had been fun staying over her best friend's place, but she knew
that she shouldn't really impose on them any more than she had.
And her parents did seem to want her back, even if they said they
were disappointed in her.
"If you come home now, I could bake you something
sweet," Tamiko promised, hating to see the darling girl not being
her usual cheerful self. She would have words with her father
about this later, but for now she had to do her best to fix up the
situation. "Would you like that, Emi-chan?"
"Hai!" Emi declared enthusiastically as she leapt up and
wrapped Tamiko in a warm hug. The older woman eagerly
accepted this, cuddling up to the little girl as if she were her own
child. In a moment, they vanished.
A moment later 'Emi' reappeared, readjusted her blonde
wig, and with obvious reluctance, took the place next to Junko so
recently vacated.
"Why don't we just ask Emi and see what she thinks?!"
Junko suddenly exclaimed. She had never met such stubborn, self-
righteous people in all her life. It was like trying to deal with two
less mature Emis. They were like kids who never had to grow up,
and were probably spoiled just as badly as they spoiled their
daughter.
"Yes, let's do that!" Emi's parents enthusiastically agreed.
They were sick of shouting themselves hoarse at such a smug,
irritating tomboy. Hadn't her parents taught her any manners at
all? They must have just let their pushy daughter walk all over
them, allowing her to do whatever she wanted. Some parents
could be so irresponsible.
Yoji looked up, only to shrink back from the intensity of
the three expressions now all firmly directed at him. Normally, he
could have faced them without so much as a flinch, but it was hard
to draw on his ninja training in a dress. Blue contacts, false
eyelashes, and makeup didn't help the situation any. At least he
had had the sense to draw the line at underwear.
"Stand up to your parents, Emi! I'm the right one, right?"
Junko prompted her 'best friend,' though there seemed to be
something a little off about the blonde girl now. She couldn't
figure it out exactly. *When did she get dressed? And where's that
stuffed bunny she's always choking to death?*
"Don't listen to the nasty tomboy, Emi-chan," Michiko
countered with a smile for her daughter. If she didn't get Emi back
soon, they'd have to cut the parade through the city short in order to
be on time for the performance in the auditorium. "You know your
loving parents are always right, right?"
"I think..." Yoji started to say, but had no idea what should
follow. *Think Yoji! What would Emi-san say in this situation?*
Looking back at their eager faces, Yoji grinned with Emi
smile #65, one reserved for special occasions, and enthused, "I like
you all so you all must be right! The slumber party was fun, but it's
time for me to go home now! Bye bye, Ju-chan!"
"Bye, Emi," Junko replied with a small wave, wondering
why in the world had she been fighting to prevent Emi from
leaving in the first place. Must have just gotten caught up in the
moment. At least the petite terror hadn't tried to hug her this time.
Yoji felt his bones bend as Emi's parents double-timed him
with a very enthusiastic super hug, joyful tears streaming from
their eyes as they carried their 'daughter' to the limo waiting below.
Even though it was for Emi-san, Yoji was starting to wish he never
let his mother talk him into this. Next time, he was sure there
would be one, he would firmly tell her no.
Nayoko yawned, rubbing her face as she looked around
herself in confusion. He life had always been a bit odd, but lately
things had taken a turn for the extremely bizarre. Waking up in a
strange waterbed wearing someone else's pajamas was just one
example. Maybe her kidnapper from before had felt bad about
stealing her robot, therefore getting her fired once again, and was
trying to make it up to her. As long as Nayoko could wear a lab
coat over it though, she didn't care what she wore.
Stepping out of the room, at least once she could find the
door in the all-black room, the scientist blinked in surprise to find
she was still in the factory the presidents of IMI had given her.
Though it was a bit hard to recognize with the new tacky decor. It
looked like they had hired a B-movie set designer for an interior
decorator. As long as everything still worked as it was supposed to
Nayoko didn't much care, though she suspected IMI would blame
this on her too when they finally kicked her out of the place.
In the meantime, she might as well work on her designs.
She'd never be able to build them, but it was an easy way to ignore
the weirdness in her life. Besides, she didn't have anything else to
do. *Hmm, maybe I can design a robot made out of wood...*
Nayoko's thoughts came crashing to a halt when she
glanced over the designs she had been working so hard on lately.
They were still laid out on her desk, but that was about the only
thing that hadn't been changed. It seemed even the smallest detail
had been altered to make her creation into a hideous-looking joke
of a machine, where functionality was freely sacrificed for an
atheistic of the tackiest kind.
Lab coat under the desk shaken out and slipped on. Coffee
in the microwave to heat it up. Trash can filled with cigarette
boxes dumped onto the table next to her. Small hand welder to be
used as a lighter. Many sharpened pencils, their graphite
shimmering in the morning light.
All the needed preparations completed, Nayoko sat down
heavily before her desk and began the long process of restoring her
genius design to its former glory.
Michiko, 'Emi', and Ryuji looked like the poster people for
planned parenting as they walked down the hall of their mansion.
The two adults were grinning from ear to ear as they strolled along
with their precious 'daughter' between them, a firm grip on 'her'
small hands. In their other hands, they held balloons and bags
brimming with colorful prizes. The long train of bodyguards
carrying similar prizes were currently debating how to get the life-
sized stuffed elephant inside the mansion.
Yoji's smile, however, was more than a little forced. He
wasn't entirely sure how he survived the nightmare he had just been
subjected to with his sanity intact. His pride, on the other hand,
was in tatters. Winning the cutest girl in Japan pageant had
probably been his lowest moment, though taking his picture for the
definition of kawaii in the dictionary came close.
Every time Yoji wanted to scream out to all of them that he
wasn't Emi, that he was a manly man and not cute at all, he'd see
his parents in the audience, beaming full of pride back at him.
Somehow that had been enough to make him keep his silence. He
was still determined that this would be his final Emi
impersonation, however, no matter what his mother may say or do.
Michiko and Ryuji stopped on the threshold of their
daughter's room, frozen in shock by what they witnessed within.
Only a few feet away sat what looked to be their daughter Emi,
playing her princess card game with her stuffed rabbit Usagi-kun
and the old ninja master Ichiro. The two humans idly sipped on tea
and ate small cakes while contemplating their next moves. Neither
seemed to have noticed the parents' arrival, though the bunny
appeared to be grinning at them.
Emi looked up from her turn to see her parents and Yoji in
the doorway. She smiled and waved to them, saying, "Welcome
home mommy and daddy! Ichiro-sensei explained the whole silly
misunderstanding. I'm sorry I overreacted and made you worry."
Michiko and Ryuji didn't respond. They kept glancing back
between the Emi sitting at the small table before them and the one
who they still held onto firmly. Their expressions only became
more and more baffled.
"My grandson makes an excellent substitute Emi, doesn't
he?" Ichiro told them smugly after taking his turn. "My daughter
decided that Emi-chan had a good idea. It would be very useful to
have a decoy Emi at times. We agreed that the welcome home
party would be the perfect test."
"We knew it the whole time," Michiko insisted, laughing
nervously as she released her hold on the pseudo-Emi.
"Yes," Ryuji agreed as he quickly let go of the faux-Emi's
hand. "We were just going along with it. It was the perfect test,
after all. We were just as curious if it would work as you were."
"Of course you couldn't hope to trick us, the ones who gave
birth to our precious child, but everyone else seem to be fooled,"
Michiko added with a touch more confidence.
Both parents rushed forward as one to embrace her true
daughter, showering her with love, almost competing with each
other to show Emi more affection. They settled in a tie, each
holding their precious daughter in their arms; Michiko idly
brushing her daughter's blonde hair with her hand while Ryuji
tickled lightly at her toes, both bringing a smile to Emi's lips. How
could she have thought for a moment that her parents didn't love
her? She would never doubt them again.
"We so sorry for making you suffer like that, Emi-chan,"
her mother whispering her ear. "We still feel just terrible about it,
even it was just a misunderstanding."
"So if there's anything we can do to make up for it," Ryuji
added, also at a whisper. "Anything at all, please ask and we'll do
everything in our power to make you wish come true."
"Anything?" Emi asked after a moment for basking in
parental love and then another moment for thought.
Michiko and Ryuji nodded in unison.
"Well, there is one thing," Emi admitted with a grin,
thinking over something her best friend had said last night. "Can
you make me into a magical girl?"
"Huh?" her parents replied in unison.
First order of business for Junko, after she got back inside
the apartment, was to find her uncle and kick him in the shin. That
accomplished, she rushed to get changed while he was still
hopping around in pain.
"I'm going out!" she shouted before slamming the door and
leaving the apartment behind. Junko was feeling steamed at her
uncle for leaving her to the wolves in her pjs, at Emi's parents for
being so obnoxious, and at Emi herself for painting her nails pink
and messing with her hair.
Oh, there were a dozen other things the little spoiled girl
had done, but those two were her current irritations. Junko knew
she looked embarrassingly silly at the moment, wishing she didn't
have to go out in public. She desperately wanted to buy gloves and
a hat, but no such stores were open yet and she didn't have much
money on her anyway. Still, feeling that everyone she passed was
laughing at her behind her back hurried her steps.
Junko decided to work off her anger in the most positive
manner she could think of: by training to reach her full destructive,
that is city-saving, potential. She had noticed the perfect place for
it too when flying around as Hime Star-chan. Even though it
would take a while to get there on foot, not to mention
embarrassing in her current state, she decided it was a lot less
trouble in the long run than to risk transforming.
Nature. The traditional training spot of all martial artists
and other assorted anime heroes. Sitting down on a smooth flat
rock, Junko took off her backpack and smiled contentedly at the
forest around her, thick and concealing, but not too overgrown to
get in her way. There was no one around to complain if she did a
little damage, or made some noise. Junko liked noise.
Bouncing to her feet with a toothy smile, Junko thought,
*Okay, Akito, just what sort of things can I do untransformed?*
*The list is quite exhaustive,* the armband's AI replied
dryly. *Should I begin to list them by subject, relative power level,
or alphabetical order?*
The plain girl frowned at the idea of hearing Akito drone on
and on again. She'd probably fall asleep before he got to the really
good stuff. *How about a list of offensive capabilities?*
*None specifically,* Akito replied after a barely noticeable
pause. *However, there are abilities which can be adapted to that
purpose. There are also a small number of defensive powers that
would also be of some use in combat.*
Junko thought for a second there the AI was going to tell
her that she had to transform for everything but washing dishes.
*So why didn't any of those defensive ones kick in before?*
*I am programmed only to aid in avoiding serious injury,*
Akito explained. *This is both to keep my existence a secret and
so as to not harm the development of my host. For you see, my
inventor believed that a person's development...*
"Fine! I get it!" Junko raged out loud to avoid yet another
boring lecture. It was bad enough in school, but to hear in her head
where she couldn't shut it out... *Just give me one of these
examples so I can try it out.*
Akito seemed completely unaffected by her outburst. *One
of my previous hosts was a sculptor. She developed a method of
concentrating the low-level energy shield I can generate in this
current state into a single point.*
Junko scratched her head in confusion. *Huh? Why did
she want to do that?* she thought before she could stop herself.
To the plain girl's considerable relief, Akito didn't give her
the life history of a previous host, but instead instructed, *Raise up
your right hand. Now make a fist as tightly as you possibly can.
Then close your eyes. You should start to feel a light tingle all
over your body. Try to concentrate that sensation into your fist.*
Junko didn't really understand the AI's instructions, but she
did her best to follow them anyway, raising her fist high in the air
and shutting her eyes tight. At first, she didn't feel anything out of
the ordinary. Then, slowly a slight tingling sensation began to
creep over her body, seemingly flowing out from the armband.
She focused on this feeling and imagined it was all flowing into her
fist instead. To her surprise, it actually started to work, feeling like
water flowing up her arm.
*Good. Now open your eyes.*
Filled with the same awed wonder from when she had first
become Hime Star-chan, Junko stared at her right hand. Her fist
was glowing a faint blue as it continued to tingle with an oddly
pleasant intensity. After a few moments, she asked, "Now what?"
*Punch the rock you were just sitting on.*
Junko balked a bit at that request. Punching her uncle was
one thing, punching solid stone was another. If she were the
powerful magical girl Hime Star-chan no problem, but she was just
the plain school girl Junko now. Making her fist glow was a neat
trick, but it didn't provide the same feeling of invulnerability that
her alter ego did. *Umm, I don't think so. That sounds painful.*
*You may feel a jarring sensation travel up your arm when
you make contact, but you will not feel any pain,* Akito reassured
her. *While I would prefer to be used in a... less violent manner, I
still will make every effort to fulfill the desires of my current host.
That is my purpose.*
"Okay, but if I break my hand because of this, I'll take you
off with wire cutters and toss you in the trash!" Her arm shaking in
anticipation of serious hurt, Junko swiftly brought down on the
large rock, pre-wincing as if to reduce the impact.
To her surprise, she felt the soft earth under the knuckles
once the tingling sensation had disappeared. Junko blinked as she
opened her eyes to find that she had driven her fist straight through
the rock, splitting it in several pieces in the process. She stared at
her fingers in wonder, turning them all about, flexing them for any
sign of damage, but there were none.
*The host I previously mentioned used this technique in the
rock quarries,* Akito explained while Junko was still stunned.
*For her, it was the easiest and most precise method of getting the
blocks of stone she needed for her art. Then she accidentally used
it on a drunk who accosted her one night and broke the man's jaw.
She decided the power was too dangerous and never used it again.*
Junko was grinning from ear to ear as she quickly scanned
the forest for more things to try out her new power on. Her pink
nails weren't even chipped from the impact, but at the moment she
didn't seem to care.
Only a short distance away, Nayoko quickly shut all the
windows in her office to keep out the sound of distant explosions
that were distracting her from her work. Probably some
construction company clearing out the area to put up a new high
rise. The annoyed scientist was tempted to walk out there and give
them a piece of her mind for disturbing a genius at work, but she
still had a lot of redesigning to do.
Shuji Higashimizu was a genius. His teachers in high
school and college had known it even before he had graduated at
the top of his class on both occasions. His colleagues in the IMI
research facility all knew it, even before he was promoted to head
scientist of the R&D department.
Because it was self-evident, he didn't feel the need to waste
time on supposedly revolutionary inventions that failed miserably
on all but the rarest of occasions. Instead, he worked on smaller,
more practical inventions, improving existing products in ways
their users would never realize. But he would, and that was all that
mattered to him.
To say he was dedicated to his work would be a gross
understatement. To him, the weekends did not exist. Every day
and night were to be spent in the lab, with sleeping and eating
being unfortunate annoyances. Both were conducted in a small
room off from the main lab so he would never be far from his
work.
Friends? Shuji had honestly never seen the point in
companionship, though there had been one person in college who
had seemed to posses the same drive as he did, one who could truly
understand his complete devotion to science. He had even helped
her get a job at IMI after graduation. Only then did he discover
what mental case she was and avoided all contact with her since.
He recently discovered she had been fired and felt a great sense of
relief. Mad scientists like her tainted the image of inventors
everywhere.
Being Sunday, the IMI R&D facility was mostly empty.
Besides Shuji, there was the security personal, janitorial staff, and a
few other scientists working overtime to keep their projects on
schedule. Everyone was well aware of how the presidents, being
extremely generous in every other respect, were sticklers for
punctuality. No one wanted to get sacked from their dream job and
were always hurrying to be ready on time.
Shuji was without this particular worry. His projects were
always well ahead of schedule and he had already done so much
for the company that he knew the presidents couldn't afford to let
him go. And even if they did for some bizarre reason, he could
easily find work at any other major corporation.
Shuji was deeply engrossed on one of his myriad projects
when suddenly the doors of the main lab opened and in strolled the
presidents of IMI, followed closely by a half-dozen of their
bodyguards. The scientist blinked in surprise as he looked up to
see them enter. It was rare just to see them in the R&D facility, he
normally had to go to their offices to make his reports, a trip which
was always the least favorite part of his job. It was a complete
shock to see them followed by their ever present but rarely seen
security force. Not to mention intimidating.
"Shuji Higashimizu," Ryuji addressed the nervous man in a
stern tone. He knew the scientist was going to be stubborn about
this, but both he and his wife had agreed that he really was their
best choice. "All of your non-essential projects are to be put on
hold. The others will be diverted to other employees."
Shuji blinked at the president as he adjusted his glasses.
All of his work, which he had been laboring for months without
pause, suspended? Where they really going to fire him after all?
Perhaps they blamed him for suggesting they hire that crazy
woman, but she hadn't really done that much damage. "Is there a
problem with my work?"
"No problem at all. You're work has been exceptional as
always," Michiko reassured him with a smile. It was hard for him
to feel reassured, however, when she was surrounded by her stern-
faced bodyguards. "We're simply freeing you up for a special
assignment, one that we want you to give your complete and total
attention."
"New assignment?" Shuji repeated with a feeling of dread.
He was a genius, but most people seemed to think that meant he
was also a miracle worker. He was well aware of his limitations,
which was why he never attempted so-called 'revolutionary'
inventions. Things like that weren't built overnight. They are put
together step by step, slowly and methodically to build up a level
of technology gradually. He didn't believe in taking giant leaps
forward. Normally, all they did was leave you flat on your back.
The presidents nodded in unison. Ryuji explained, "We
want you to build a set of power armor with flight capabilities,
small and light yet powerful enough to defeat a giant robot."
*They have to be joking... but they don't look like they're
joking,* Shuji thought. "I don't really understand the purpose of
such an... assignment. Such a suit would be enormously
expensive, if it could be built at all. It wouldn't be practical for
even military applications. Surely my current projects are much
more important..."
"Nothing is more important than your new project,"
Michiko told him sternly. All the friendliness had dropped out of
her expression as she tossed a folder onto his desk. "In twenty four
hours from now, you are to either submit plans for power armor
according to those specifications or submit your resignation."
Shock was the first thing Shuji felt being given such an
ultimatum, but that quickly faded into an anger the likes of which
he had never felt before. He had worked hard for years, improving
their products through long sleepless days and nights, and they
were willing to toss him away just like that? He might be a
scientist who lived only for his work, but he still had his pride.
"Then it will be the latter," he told them both. "I simply can
not agree to your... unreasonable demands!"
"I hope you've managed your finances well then," Ryuji
said with a grin. "Because you won't be able to find work even as a
janitor in Japan. We have friends in the government that will see
to that."
"I also have a feeling that any request for an exit visa will
be sadly refused," Michiko added, not sounding sad about it at all.
The bodyguards didn't say anything. They didn't have to,
their presence was enough.
"All right, I'll do it," Shuji finally replied after a few
moments, hanging his head in defeat. He knew any protest would
get him nowhere, and while he had enough money saved to live on,
it would be nothing without his work.
It really was silly of him to get so mad over a measly
twenty four hour delay anyway. In a week, he would have
forgotten all about this. It wasn't like they'd need him to build the
thing.
Smoking was illegal in all public buildings. Nevertheless,
no one protested when a man lit up a big Cuban cigar in the middle
of the mayor's office. This could be because he was Gen-ji
Yokozaki, the mayor of the city. More likely it was because of his
nickname 'pitbull.' Not just for his general appearance, but for the
habit of biting people's heads off when angered, which was most of
the time. Thanks to his press agent though, the general populace
saw him as a kindly, Santa Claus like figure, which was just about
as far from the truth as one could get.
Yesterday's big problem had been an impossibly huge robot
trashing his fair city. Because the actual chaos had been brief, it
had cost him only two of his beloved stash of cigars. It helped that
the full damage assessments hadn't come in yet and he had refused
to listen to estimates. Today, those reports were scattered on his
desk and he had to organize the momentous task of rebuilding all
that monster had ruined. Not to mention it was Sunday, time he
usually spent on the golf course, slowly improving his game.
*Ugh, stuff like this was one of the few reasons I didn't
mind leaving Tokyo.*
Gen-ji had been happy once. He had a beautiful wife, a
newborn daughter, and a strong political future. All it took was
one tiny little affair to rip his ideal life apart. Now he had alimony,
an ulcer, and near-constant migraines. The last two were caused by
all the problems that were forever being tossed into his lap. The
former helped contribute to the latter when city problems were
relatively light, which was almost never.
Gen-ji slumped down in his high-backed chair, which had
been comfortable when he took office but was now worn in all the
wrong places, took another puff from his painfully expensive cigar,
and asked the question that everyone had been dreading, "So how
much is all this going to cost?"
All eyes turned to the city accountant, a lanky man with
glasses who attempted to hide behind his briefcase. Somewhat
sure they weren't about to lynch him for being the bearer of bad
news, he hesitantly named a figure.
The others continued to stare back at him as if to say,
'Okay, enough joking. What's the real amount?'
The accountant added, "Well, that would be the cost if we
used the normal rates for IMI's quick service construction
company. They claim that they could repair all the damage in just
a few days. The older, slower method would be initially less
expensive, but would present a higher loss of revenue since the
process would take considerably longer."
"What about insurance?" the mayor's secretary asked, a
full-figured woman with fiery hair who always wore conservative
outfits to work, only two sizes too small. Despite Gen-ji's
vehement protests to the contrary, everyone who worked in the
mayor's office, and the city government for that matter, assumed
she was his mistress. It didn't help that she always referred to the
mayor as 'Gen-chan.'
"Yeah, what about that?" the mayor said around his rapidly
diminishing cigar. He had been puffing on it heavily since the
accountant had spoke and didn't look like he was going to slow
down until the cigar was gone. "I know all those buildings had full
coverage. That's got to take a big chunk out of the cost."
The accountant shook his head. "I've already been over this
with the insurance company and they refuse to pay anything. It
seems their policy doesn't cover attacks by giant robots."
Gen-ji bit through his cigar and started choking on the nub.
With a smile, his secretary raced over and applied a vicious karate
chop to his back, forcing him to spit out the nub of the cigar and
also causing him to groan in pain.
"Get me one of the presidents of IMI on the phone," Gen-ji
managed to croak out. "Since their head office is here, they should
be agreeable to some sort of a discount."
"Here you go, Gen-chan," his secretary said, handing him
the phone with a smile.
As the room filled with the sounds of snickering, Gen-ji
Yokozaki knew it was going to be a five cigar kind of day.
***
Emi beamed as she marched cutely down the halls of IMI's
R&D facility, her parents on either side. She giggled and waved at
all of the employees who stopped their work to greet her as she
passed. The facility itself gleamed, being nearly brand new. It's
predecessor had perished in a mysterious accident about twelve
years ago. What little remained was bulldozed and the new was
erected over the old.
Today had already been such a good day for the little girl
and it was not even half over yet. It had been the first day of a new
week of school, an event that Emi especially looked forward to
now that she had a best friend. Ju-chan had been in particularly
good spirits today, grinning and occasionally chuckling to herself.
When their home teacher had asked her about it, she had given her
the oddest look... but Emi wasn't one to pry. As long as her friend
was happy, she was happy.
Now her parents had said they had something extra
wonderful to show her, and it wasn't even one of the dozen or so
special occasions that her parents felt the need to shower her with
gifts either. She was running out of room in their modest mansion
for all the cute stuff she had received from them and other gift-
givers over the years. Emi wondered if her parents would be
offended if she started giving away some of them to the girls who
needed more kawaii in their lives, like her best friend Ju-chan.
Emi was distracted from her thoughts when her family lead
her into a small conference room off of the main lab where a
demonstration was being prepared by a very nervous-looking man
and his much more confident assistants.
"Welcome, Emi-chan!" the assistants shouted
enthusiastically in unison. "Please make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you, everyone," Emi replied with a giggle and a
smile as she took the seat indicated. She sampled the juice and
pastries, nodding her approval.
"Do you really like them?" one of the assistants asked
nervously. She was a vaguely mousy woman in her mid-twenties
whose hands couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. "I used to make them
for sempai when she was still here, but now that..."
"That will be all," Michiko told the woman politely yet
firmly as she took a seat next to her daughter, scooting closer to
snatch up one of the pastries for herself. "We have many important
matters to attend to today and no time for idle chit-chat."
"Yes, mam," the assistant replied, quickly scurrying away.
Ryuji took a seat on the other side of Emi, saying to her
with a smile, "We said that we'd do anything in our power to make
your wish come true."
"Soon you'll be a magical girl," Michiko continued, and
then as an afterthought, added, "With a little help from advanced
technology."
"Wai!" Emi enthused, that is after she finished her pastry
and wiped her mouth. It wasn't cute to talk with food in one's
mouth. "I love you mommy and daddy!"
"We love you too, Emi-chan!" both parents replied in
unison, hugging their adorable daughter close to them.
After a few minutes to settle down, the co-presidents
signaled for the presentation to begin.
Shuji was no idiot; virtually anyone he had ever meant
could testify that. So when he read over the specifications for the
power suit he was to design, outlined by the co-presidents of IMI
themselves, it had been painfully clear who the suit was meant for.
He had no idea why they would want to turn their daughter into a
walking powerhouse of mass destruction, but it was not his to
question why. It was his to do, or get fired.
At first, he loathed the project that had been shoved down
his throat with ever fiber of his being. What they had asked for
was pure fantasy; something well beyond the pale of modern
technology. Then, insidiously, an idea popped in his head on how
to solve one minor problem with it. Then another and another.
Soon he was working frantically, driving himself as hard as he
could to make this seemingly impossible project actually work.
Because he knew that he alone could do it.
The final blueprint was a testament to that. He knew it
could be built, and he knew it work exactly how they wanted it to.
His pride as an inventor would allow for nothing less.
With a flourish, Shuji began the slide show, explaining all
functionality of his power suit to the smallest detail, pointing out
all the innovations this one invention contained. It might very well
earn him the Nobel Prize, perhaps several. Though even more
important in his mind was the revolution it represented; with it he
would be the father of a new scientific age.
"So what do you think?" Shuji asked, almost smugly as he
collapsed his pointer with a loud snap. The question was merely a
formality; the answer was obvious.
"I hate it," Emi said simply with a cute shrug of her
shoulders before starting on another pastry.
It took Shuji several minutes to recover his glasses after his
massive face-fault. Then it took him several minutes more before
he was able to ask, "But why? It has everything your parents
specified and more. It's a revolutionary design! Perhaps you don't
understand..."
"It's not cute at all," Emi declared, wrinkling her nose in
distaste. "The design is all angular, it should have more curves.
And its much too bulky. And the colors are all wrong. The helmet
the worst part of all; it would cover my whole face. There's no way
I could wear such an uncute power suit."
"I don't see how the suit's appearance has any relevance..."
Shuji started to argue.
"Appearance is one of the most important things about a
product. Anyone in our marketing division can tell you that,"
Michiko disagreed. "With so many products that fill the same
needs successfully, many consumers make their purchasing
decisions based on appearance alone."
"And this product was designed specifically with one
consumer in mind," Ryuji added. "Therefore, it must live up to her
expectations."
"Well, this is only a rough design," Shuji said, feeling
unwilling to fight a losing battle. "I suppose that some aesthetic
changes could be made for the prototype."
"Good," Michiko told him with a smile. "I'm sure our
daughter will be happy to outline all the changes that need to be
made in order for your power suit to meet her requirements. Then,
naturally, you'll supervise its construction."
"Sounds like fun!" Emi enthused as she leapt out of her
chair, grabbed a pencil, and quickly got to work on the blueprints.
It would take a lot of effort to make this ugly thing cute, but she
was determined to become a magical girl and show that Hime Star-
chan just who was the most kawaii.
Shuji stared at the little girl in horror as she doodled all
over his revolutionary design like it was a page in a children's
coloring book. He glanced back at the co-presidents to protest, but
their hard eyes and toothy smiles were all the answer he needed.
"All's well that ends well," Ichiro whispered to himself,
chuckling in the shadows as he watched Emi's determined
expression. It had been a hard trial for the little girl to be put
through, but she was obviously a better person for it.
"She has matured greatly from this opportunity I have given
her," he whispered smugly to himself.
"That's only because you tricked her and made her suffer,"
Tamiko said in a cool tone as she suddenly appeared behind her
father.
"But it was all for her benefit," Ichiro nervously protested
to his daughter's flat stare. "The same that I did for you and you
have done for your own children."
His words did nothing to soften Tamiko's glare. If
anything, they intensified it, causing the old ninja to feel as if the
temperature of the room had suddenly dropped twenty degrees.
"Emi-chan is not the ninja that you are always thinking her
to be," his daughter said in a voice that was even less kind than her
stare. "She is a little girl who should be taught all the things she
needs to know in order to become a mature young woman. She
had no need to suffer so."
"I only wished to teach her a small lesson," Ichiro nearly
pleaded. Tamiko had grown up just like her mother in so many
ways; a layer of softness concealing tempered steel. While he was
proud of her, he still didn't like it when that steel was pointed
directly at him.
Tamiko grinned crookedly at her father's words, her eyes
gleaming with cruel delight. "Is that so? Well, father, I don't think
you're too old to learn a lesson or two yourself."
Being an ancient ninja master of great skill and intelligence,
Ichiro still had no choice but to flee from his daughter's wrath.
"What the hell are you looking at?" Nayoko raged at one of
the mechanical arms, which having nothing better to do, simply sat
there.
After a day of battling with an unseen opponent that only
struck during her naps, making those tacky changes to her plans no
matter where she hid them, Nayoko had finally given up. What
was the point when she didn't have any parts to build her creations
with? She could design a thousand robots and it'd still be just as
meaningless. The only thing in her life she had ever cared about
had been taken away from her yet again.
In her search of the factory for some leftover parts to build
something, Nayoko had stumbled upon an old bottle of sake hidden
under an old uniform in one of the lockers. She had never been
much of a drinker before, but maybe it would make her forget her
troubles for a while. At least it couldn't make things worse.
A loud rumbling stirred her out of her alcohol-enhanced
mood, causing her to glance out the window. Two large IMI trucks
had pulled up before the massive front gate. They were unmarked
and painted black, but after raiding them for parts over her
allotment for years, she got to know them pretty well.
Nayoko took another pull on the bottle and ignored them.
They couldn't be parts for another giant robot, she knew the
presidents had given up on her, leaving her to rot in her own
personal hell. Had to be some sort of hallucination caused by her
sleep-deprived and boozed-up mind.
*Damn loud hallucinations,* she thought as she staggered
to her feet. They were blowing their horns now and it was starting
to give her a headache. Though a supreme act of will, she
managed to make it to the gate controls and opened the front door
for them. Quiet having returned, Nayoko smiled as she slumped to
the ground and passed out.
Atsuko was laughing, laughing so hard that she was rolling
around on the floor while clutching her stomach. Tears of mirth
filled her eyes as she gasped for air, only to laugh some more. She
had never laughed so hard in her life.
"You can stop now, granddaughter," Ichiro said with a flat
stare.
Atsuko wiped the tears from her eyes as her chuckling
faded. But a single glance at her grandfather was enough to cause
another explosion of mirth and soon she was rolling around on the
floor once again.
"What's so funny, sis?" Yoji asked as he walked in the
room. Emi was in her room, animatedly reworking the plans for
her power suit, and he had just run out of video tape.
That was when he noticed that his sister wasn't alone in the
room. There was a blonde-haired woman with her, wearing a pink
frilly dress, a lot of makeup, and tied to a chair with steel cables.
She also had a sign around her neck which read, 'Training, please
do not disturb.'
"Grandfather?" Yoji addressed the 'woman,' feeling barely
able to form the words around his shock. Even under all that
makeup, the face was unmistakable.
Glumly, Ichiro nodded as he struggled with his iron bonds
even though he knew the had been done too skillfully to let him
escape. "Well, don't just stand there gaping, boy! Untie me!"
Yoji suddenly doubled over with laughter, relieved that for
once he wasn't the victim of his mother's little obsessions.
"There you are, Yoji-kun!" Tamiko enthused, smiling
brightly and waving around girl's kimono with matching wig as she
appeared before him. "I've been looking all over for you! Now try
this on!"
Atsuko laughed even harder as she watched her brother flee
as if all the host of hell were at his heels, and her mother closing in,
waving the girl's kimono before her. And people thought she had
no sense of humor.
Lady Morgana awoke in confusion, the scent of alcohol
tingling on her sensitive nostrils. She found herself lying on the
cold ground in a corner of the factory, half-empty sake bottle
nearby. She must have been celebrating and simply passed out, a
not uncommon occurrence for her. But without the materials to
build her wonderful creations, and therefore rule the world, what
was there worth celebrating?
Looking down, Lady Morgana blinked in surprise. The
floor of the factory was now stacked high with boxes, some open
to reveal their gleaming contents. Enough parts to build two robots
at least, and with some remaining for a few evil side projects.
Obviously, her minions have been hard at work once again. She
would have to get started right away. She couldn't bare the thought
of wasting their efforts.
The sounds of heavy machinery filled the factory once
again, overshadowed by the cackle of mad laughter.