Mind Games - Chapter 13

“Kid, gotta admit, you are great ASMR. Dunno if you mean it like that, but you have the most soothing voice when I'm too exhausted to fall asleep. Putting one of your hour-long streams on knocks me out and lets me sleep like a baby all night.”

I shifted my stance and opened up my shoulders to give off a more exaggerated agreeable appearance as I shook the eight-foot-tall giant's huge black hand. I'll give him this, his hero-name really did fit given the way he appeared as though he was a giant wooden carving of a man who'd been thrown in a bonfire for a few long minutes and fished out. Given how the man looked, I felt almost-instant kinship with him on a level that was hard to describe.

At least the people on the street didn't know I was one bad day from telling them to jump off a bridge.

Charcoal? He loomed.

He was threatening.

And he was a hero.

Which meant he got all the respect.

Even if he did just tell me that my videos actively put him to sleep.

“Hey, I'm just glad I'm helping anyone with anything. As long as I make a few peoples' days easier, I consider it time well spent,” I shrugged expressively. My face being covered as it was, meant I had to focus on conveying what I wanted to through exaggerated body language. Which was an interesting reversal of how I applied Cassandra's skills, if nothing else.

Cassandra would have used that trick to be more personal while while wearing her gimp-suit of a superhero costume, but... well, trauma fucks people up.

“You seem like a shoe-in for whichever hero school you apply, for what it's worth,” Brazier stated, a much more baseline-seeming person wearing a costume with a lot of brass-esque armor on it, the collective effect contrasted against dark under armour making him look like some kind of living piece of ancient décor... which was probably the intent.

His body language told another story to his flippantly-amiable attitude, though.

Disinterest, boredom, desire to move-

It was obvious to me that he wanted to be anywhere that wasn't here right now. For whatever reason. Given the lack of urgency, fear, anger... or any strong emotion, I chalked it up to him not being a 'people person' at heart until proven wrong. At the very least, he didn't feel as though he were hiding anything disastrous.

“Yep,”Onibi chimed in, grinned teeth that were too yellow and over-sized to be anything except a heteromorphic trait. Combined with her too-pale skin she looked far too creepy for most agencies to touch, but having a group that was effectively the 'boogeyman attack squad' to play bad cop in an organization this size? I could see the logic, at least... if they were effective enough. The fact that they were still here made that likely. “Just remember us small-timers when you make it big, right kid?”

I huffed a laugh, taking the ribbing in good humor. Even if she secretly thought I was going to peak early, then overwork myself until I crashed and burned, she was trying her best to be genuine. And, in her defense, most 'prodigies' usually went that course.

And, again, a hero that looked like a villain.

That was an uphill battle.

And, given the team composition, probably shed some light on Brazier just being so done with this shit. He was probably the face of the unit, the most personable one, which meant he got stuck talking to everyone. In his shoes I wouldn't want to talk to some punk kid after a long day at work either.

“Feel free to amaze and astound our new intern with your daily routine, loyal hero minions,” Fuyumi called from where she was staring a vending machine off to the side.

Brazier's shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him as he lost the will to pretend further. “Look, Boss, it's great that we managed to pop junior's internship cherry-”

“Hey, watch it Kazuma. He's still in middle school,” Charcoal interjected.

“Meh,” I shrugged, defusing the squabble that was about to break out. “I live on the internet. You couldn't shock me with foul language if you tried.”

Onibi snorted, shifting in her faux-tattered ghost costume. “Don't tempt Brazier. He's got one heck of a mouth on him when something gets him going.”

“And I should know,” Fuyumi stated, making her selection. “I'm the one that has to deal with image calling and complaining about how someone posted a clip of him cursing like a sailor.”

“It's not my fault-” Brazier started.

“How about we let the kid know about the new vigilante in town?” Charcoal asked, looking around.

“As long as Bootstrap doesn't get any ideas, that should be fine,” Hot Ice nodded, cracking her drink and taking a long swig.

“Vigilante activity is a criminal offense, a felony, and almost always charged along with felony use of your quirk in commission of an assault and/or battery,” I replied dully.

All four heroes looked at me askance for a moment, then broke out in various forms of laughter.

“I think the kid'll be okay, especially if he can quote chapter and verse like that,” Onibi grinned. “Let's show the kid what we've got. It'll be more interesting than that guy with the finger-extending quirk who keeps ripping off parking meters, at least.”

“I thought you guys were a hostage-rescue team?” I asked, idle curiosity at their being positioned on what seemed like petty-crime.

“We are,” Charcoal nodded, the motion somehow carrying the sound of grinding stone. “But that's a pretty niche operations docket and we tend to get called up at the last minute when we're really needed. While we're idle, though, they have us on, ah...”

“Non-urgent cases,” Onibi grinned, chuckling.

“Let's go with that, yeah,” Charcoal stated, his red eyes twitching toward Hot Ice, who's posture radiated tolerant amusement.

The shit jobs, then. The ones that have to be done for whatever reason, but are some combination of low-priority, low-reward, and high time investment.

“I gotcha,” I nodded, familiar with the subject. “So... vigilante? That does sound more interesting than a guy ripping off pocket change.”

“I saw the morning bulletin,” Hot Ice stated, “but I'd like to hear more about her, if you've got anything?”

“Always happy to give an unscheduled briefing to the Boss Lady,” Brazier muttered, rubbing his head through his headgear. “This way, if you please.”

Our little group filed into one of the rooms on the tenth floor which had obviously been subdivided with a few cubicle walls into an area for the three-man team leading us. 'Team Watchtower' was emblazoned on the door as we walked through into a large reception area that was bedecked with a pinboard, whiteboard, a projector, and a conference table. Charcoal made his way to a stack of cinderblocks in the corner that had a futon draped over it, using that as a makeshift seat.

Catching my glance, he shrugged. “I've got an actual chair in the back that's reinforced for my weight, but those things are expensive. There's just no use in picking up a second just for it to sit out here empty ninety percent of the time.”

I gave the man a nod as Brazier stretched and took up a position next to the whiteboard, using it as an impromptu projector screen while Onibi cued up something on a nearby computer.

Hot Ice and I simply deposited ourselves into seats.

The lights were dimmed, then we began.

“Alright, so... morning briefing stuff. We were on call for the nightshift-” Which, I hoped, meant they were going to get to go home and sleep after this. “-so we responded when the blues-”

“-hero slang for police officers,” Fuyumi muttered to my right.

“-called in a pick-pocket, an attempted armed-robbery, and a burglary of a factory undergoing refurbishment. The call center had received alerts from locals stating that a teenager or young woman had interceded in the crimes while they were in-progress. Since this was the agency's turf, they wanted to know if we had someone running around or knew if an Underground was being shy about taking credit before assuming anything.”

The projector changed from a black screen to a map of the local area with a few highlighted dots around it.

Brazier took a breath, then reached out for a bottle of water on a nearby stand. After taking a drink, he continued. “Based on the times and locations, we're tentatively thinking that our new girl has some sort of movement-based quirk for fast-travel. No one reported any suspicious traffic, the trains had already stopped running, and even a trained hero would have trouble making these distances in this timeframe without some kind of quirk assistance.”

Hot Ice nodded beside me, looking thoughtful. “Don't get married to the idea, but it's a good first step. Even if she doesn't have a quirk of that specific kind, you're probably right about one of the applications being fast-movement. Did you check with Tokyo's air-traffic control?”

Brazier, his body language showing off the irritation that wasn't on his face or tone, nodded obediently. “Very next thing we did.” He turned to me. “Unregistered fliers are all sorts of dangerous, kid. Someone without formal training and a license moving around in the air is just asking for trouble. So if you run into something like this, first thing you do is usually poke the ATC just to make sure. If they do have something, it'll save you a lot of time and aggravation.”

“Plus you can hand the case over to someone who can actually do something,” Onibi smirked, giving me an exaggerated wink.

Hot Ice sighed, but seemed to think better of reprimanding her. “Although that might not be the best way to phrase it, Onibi is right. It's best to hand flier villains and vigilantes over to people with flying quirks unless you get really lucky.”

“Next go-to was the seismic sensors,” Brazier interjected, dragging the discussion back on-topic with a grumble. “Those are trickier and usually only worth it if you see disturbed soil or broken concrete where the perp was last known to be, but again... they can keep you from looking in the wrong places and chasing your own tail while you have no chance of catching someone.”

“Moral of the story is that assumptions are bad, rookie,” Charcoal chimed in with a gravelly chuckle. “And, for the record, the seismics were a no-go either.”

“Next standard check is to glance at the Tokyo metropolitan water management maps,” Brazier stated, then looked at me. “If you start at a small agency, they won't have access to some of this stuff. The Met doesn't like letting just anyone in their servers, but on rare occasions we get some genius who decides that just because they can breathe water or turn into it, they can use the city's pipes as their own private fast-lane.”

“Almost always blowing pipes due to overpressure. Or valves when they have to move through them,” Onibi sighed, shaking her head. “The stories I've heard... but what do we know? They've got somewhere to be.”

“I'm not unfamiliar with the type,” I stated, my tone dry as the desert. “They're the reason we can't have nice things.”

A series of snorts, chuckles, and grins took the group, even Brazier cracking a smile before nodding at me and getting back to the briefing. “Okay, so... this is what's usually referred to as the 'trifecta check.' Air, earth, and water. If you have actionable intelligence that your perp is moving faster than they should be, its usually worth doing if you don't know the person's quirk. Usually before you even go through the file in detail. You wanna tell me why, rookie?”

I blinked, not having expected the question, but leaning back as I considered it. “Like you said, if you don't have a specific quirk that can no-sell this type of thing it's better to just hand it off to someone else instead of wasting time on it, right?”

“Half credit,” Charcoal rumbled.

“The bigger problem is that, if you waste time running around and trying to catch someone with a quirk that lets them evade you ninety-nine percent of the time, it not only looks really bad, but it lets them get away with whatever they're doing in the meantime.” Brazier paused here, wrapping his knuckles against the map still on the screen. “Fliers, earth-movers, and hydros will damage shit-”

Hot Ice coughed and Brazier rolled his eyes.

“They will damage stuff. Important, expensive stuff. They will ram into a building at high-speed, shatter a foundation, or blow a main water line to an entire prefecture. One of your primary jobs as a hero is to limit not only casualties, but also prevent collateral damage since the latter often leads to the former,” the pro explained, his tone serious and his expression grave.

I took a deep breath, looking at the problem from this dimension. It might seem callous to weigh material damages against human lives, but... “Falling debris from an impact against a building has to go somewhere. Shattered foundations can weaken structural support that can cause buildings to collapse in earthquakes. And damaging any part of the water management system threatens the city's ability to deal with proper sanitation, increasing the possibility of disease outbreaks, as well as potential floods in typhoons or cyclones.”

Brazier stared at me for a moment longer, then nodded slowly, and I felt as though I'd moved up a few notches in his eyes. He looked at Hot Ice. “Okay, this one might not be hopeless.”

Fuyumi snorted, turning to look at me. “These three don't deal with this part, but there are also personal consequences for overlooking easy solutions and making assumptions. The simplest one to deal with is a competency evaluation by the HPSC with the potential to put you on probation, demand extra training, or revoke your license entirely if you're found to be negligent in a large-scale disaster with loss of human life.”

“That's before the financial penalties hit,” she stopped and took a long pull from her drink. “Insurance will cover most reasonable collateral damage you commit or the villain you're responsible for engages in. Your quirk doesn't have significant physical or elemental effects, so your premiums will be significantly less than my own or any of theirs-”

She waved around to the group, who all nodded.

“-but if you're just starting out, especially with your own agency, fumbling easy checks against a villain or vigilante's capabilities can open you or your agency to liability suits. If some mole-type heteromorph digs into a subway line after you've been chasing them for a month without catching them, you're definitely going to see some kind of repercussions financially. If your insurance company doesn't drop you, expect your rates to shoot up sky-high.”

I took a moment to let that sink in.

Then I reminded myself of a very important fact.

Stain is the premiere example of a crazed lunatic serial killer. That is not a viable career path. Even if it would be very satisfying.

I mean, I could totally do it better-

No. The dark side might have cookies, but I will not fall to temptation!

“I'll keep that in mind,” I promised Hot Ice.

“You might want to be writing some of this down, you know? Or using a recorder?” Onibi prompted pointedly.

I shook my head. “I have eidetic memory or, at least, as close to it that makes no difference.”

The entire room stilled for a moment, turning to look at me.

“You looked at the vending machine, right?” Hot Ice asked, and I nodded, guessing where this was going. “What were the drinks on the left and right of the one I bought?”

“Iced Red Leaf Tea and Nitro Energy,” I replied promptly.

Hot Ice frowned, cocking her head and pulling a piece from a free stack before presenting me with it and a pen. “Draw the pattern on the lobby floor.”

I rolled my eyes and did as requested, even adding the non-geometric flourishes.

Charcoal leaned over me. “Huh, that's almost right, but there's too many lines there-” One large black finger reached over and pointed, not quite touching the paper.

“Those are cracks,” I replied, adding the outer threshold as a reference point. “So you can match my sketch to a specific part of the floor.”

There was a beat of silence before Onibi spoke. “Huh. Always thought that was a myth. I mean, outside of some lucky guy who actually has it, but your quirk is Brainwashing, right?”

I shrugged. “It's... complicated. I think my quirk plays a part in it, at least, but given what my quirk is, it's actually pretty difficult to exhaustively test its specific parameters and limitations.”

Which is the shield I would use should anyone criticize my habit of pulling new applications or aspects of my quirk out my ass. In my defense, though, Brainwashing was a legitimately difficult quirk to test without one or more willing volunteers. Who could really say when my excuse would actually fail to hold water? Given the overall state of metaphysics research in this world... well, there was probably someone who would start to bitch if I got ridiculous enough, but I was decently sure I could play the convincingly naive teenager truly discovering their quirk for the first time under heroic tutelage.

“You've never been through a proper quirk evaluation?” Hot Ice asked intently, almost angrily.

I shrugged again. “The best advice I got from my counselor was not to use my quirk.”

“That's not good advice, tha-that's borderline malpractice!” Hot Ice-no, Todoroki Fuyumi raged, standing up so quickly that her chair noisily scraped the floor as it was thrown back.

I raised an eyebrow as the barely-restrained outrage and the rapidly-cooling temperature of the room. “It's worked out pretty well for me so far.”

“That's not the point!” Fuyumi stated, planting her feet and throwing her arms up in the air. “Any child with a psychic quirk obviously has a sufficiently complex interaction to necessitate secondary and tertiary appointments with a specialist! If not more!”

Oh, right, she went into elementary education in the original timeline. Looks like that was apparently a pretty narrow decision even here.

I stared at her, unwilling to donate another careless shrug to the cause of assuaging her anger when it clearly wasn't working. Also, I was budgeting my shrugs. I only had so many to give.

Shrug Budget... Shruget? No, Bad Hitoshi, no cookie. Focus.

“Do you want me to lie reassuringly and tell you those appointments happened or would them missing stuff like that make the revelation worse, not better?” I asked instead.

Onibi was biting her cheek, Brazier was stabbing his thigh with one of the pointy bits of his costume, and Charcoal was standing far too still. All three trapped between awe at my disregard for the anger of a Very Important Person and laughing at my continued application of snark.

See, this? This is why I have to ration my shrugs. I didn't ration my fucks and now I'm all out of them. Can't give any.

Fuyumi inhaled deeply through her nose, her expression that of long-suffering, before slowly releasing it. “Please don't lie to me, Shinso-kun. You were supposed to have a secondary quirk evaluation appointment between the ages of seven and ten given you were diagnosed with a psychic quirk. Why didn't you?”

“When I was eight years old, my mom got sent to prison and my dad fell into deep depression,” I replied, meeting her fierce blue gaze and taking a perverse joy in watching it falter. It was one thing to know she wanted to do good by finding out why I had been wronged in her eyes. It was another to suffer her prying into my life without regard for my own feelings on the matter. “That's probably why.”

The edge of humor in the office died almost instantly.

Fuyumi averted her eyes, her anger instantly cooling and, paradoxically, the temperature of the room warming. “I'm sorry for pressing, Shinso. We'll... continue this discussion later. It's off-topic anyway. What about this vigilante?”

A transparent attempt to change the subject, but she did apologize, which was usually more than you could expect an authority figure in Japan to do. Turning to Brazier, who also averted his gaze from mine as he busied himself rebooting his thought-processes, he cleared his throat and gestured towards Onibi.

“Alright!” He spoke up loudly, faux-confidence transitioning to the kind of rote memorization of long habit. “So, as you can see here, this is a still frame from CCTV we pulled near where one of the crimes was stopped in-progress. We double-checked witness testimony against the visuals of the tape, confirmed it was her, did the multi-step process to ensure we were on the money...”

The image on the screen showed a girl, potentially a young woman, with long lavender hair in two trailing braids, a leather jacket over a white t-shirt, and a pair of loose-fitting black jeans.

“This is from the attempted assault-battery with a quirk, intent to rob the victim,” Brazier stated, “Watch carefully, she's fast.”

Obligingly, I leaned forward, my eyes set on the screen.

It was fast. The assailant and the victim were cloistered at the end of an alley near a dumpster, the office-worker partially drunk, and the street tough holding him against a wall by his lapel in one hand and brandishing a sparkling knife in the other. The vigilante strode into the alleyway without a care in the world, her hands in her jacket's pockets and spoke up, attracting the villain's attention. And he was a villain, given that he was using his quirk in commission of a crime, in public at that. He deserved the label.

Even if only technically.

And at the lowest possible threat level.

The vigilante girl said something, flipped the thug off, and clearly baited him into attacking with his sparkling knife. There was a lung, the vigilante moved, and the villain was sailing over her shoulder in a fluid motion that ended with him landing on his back and the air knocked out of him. She rolled him with her foot, sweeping the blade away as she drew the heavy boot back, and pulled out a set of thick zip ties that were used to bind his hands and ankles.

“Sawata Izumo is the salaryman,” Brazier droned. “Kuko Juroba is the assailant. The latter's quirk is on file as 'Supercut.' It enhances any edged or bladed instrument the wielder is holding with a mild visual effect, allowing the blade to become supernaturally sharp and tough. Purportedly, he can cut through heavy metal with ordinary kitchen knives at full strength.”

“Deadly,” Hot Ice noted. “And she took him down with just one throw. The resolution isn't the best, but she didn't bind his wrists, did she?”

Brazier shook his head. “No, ma'am. Atypical of vigilantes, she actually zipped the center two fingers of his behind his back, then zipped his thumbs together. It made it much harder for him to use his quirk to get free, even if she hadn't patted him down and pulled off the five blades he had hidden on him.”

“So we're looking for some kind of speedster, nominally, who has martial arts training judging by that throw, and knows their way around restraining someone,” Hot Ice stated, then looked at me. “Who's about Shinso's age, maybe a bit older.”

Onibi visibly bit back a yawn, stretching. “Our next step was to either go around to a few dojos locally or show her photo at the women's self-defense groups. She's, well... photogenic, so it shouldn't be hard to find someone who remembers a young girl that’s good at judo.”

“It's not judo.”

The room looked at me, from where I was studying the image intently.

“How do you know?” Charcoal grunted.

I dispensed with one of my valuable shrugs. “Because, I know judo, and that's not it. That's jeet kune do.”

Glances were exchanged before Hot Ice made a gesture with her hand as if she were drawing me out, rolling her wrist in circles. “What is jeet kune do and what's the difference?”

“She's not planted, for one,” I pointed at the screen and sighed slightly at the incomprehension on their faces. “Her feet. They're not planted firmly. Judo, for all that it's a 'soft' art that uses your opponent's force against them, relies on a solid grounding to use that force. She also didn't follow through on the throw. She let him lie there instead of following him down into a grapple. Then there's the throw itself, it didn't cross the axis of her body. Even when he was in motion, it was on a parallel axis to her.”

“What does that mean, parallel axis?” Hot Ice asked, looking back at the image.

I sighed and stood. “Maybe I'm explaining it poorly. Uhh... Onibi or Hot Ice? One of you volunteer? I'd take Brazier or Charcoal, but the first one's got too many pointy bits and Charcoal... no offense dude, but...”

“Big guy, I gotcha,” he nodded with a quiet huff of amusement.

Fuyumi stood before Onibi and shrugged off her firefighter's coat to join the helmet sitting on the table. “So, how do you want me to...?”

“Crouch like you're running at me with the knife like the assailant, but just take a step or two forward,” I told her, popping my neck and making a come-hither motion.

Her eyes narrowed and she did just that.

I grabbed her arms at the wrist slowly, telegraphing my moves, then stepped into her guard as I bent down. “See how I'm using your forward momentum to pull you up and over me? I'm using the axis of my own body as a fulcrum to flip you. If I stand up while you're like this-” I did so, earning a surprised sound from her as her feet briefly left the ground. “-I can use that motion to catapult you higher and throw you harder. In addition, I can use both of my hands to give you a hard pull and swing you faster, further increasing the impact force.”

I released her hands, felt her touch down, and stepped back as the heroes regarded me with interest. “I call what judo does a 'hard throw,' but that's probably just my own terminology. Judo adds your own force to the opponent's. Jeet kune do, on the other hand-”

I gestured at the screen.

“She flipped him using just his wrist,” Hot Ice breathed out, realization coloring the tone. “A 'soft throw,' then, that only uses your opponent's force redirected momentum. Not adding any through your own intervention.”

I nodded, “that's pretty much it, yeah.”

“So we're looking for a beautiful teenage girl that knows an obscure martial art, doesn't care about wearing a mask while doing vigilante work, and has some sort of speed or teleportation application to their quirk,” Brazier summarized, looking thoughtful. “Can't be too many of those, even in a city like Tokyo.”

“How'd you know that stuff, Shinso-kun?” Onibi asked.

“Kid does a lot of martial arts tutorials, self-defense stuff, on his channel,” Charcoal rumbled out. “Never seen him do this jeet stuff, though.”

“It's more popular in America,” I replied. “It was started about two hundred and fifty years ago by an action star and martial artist named Bruce Lee. The guy who taught me was a half-American guy backpacking around the country. He was in this region staying at a hostel a few years ago and needed help brushing up on the language. Had a fish-type heteromorphic quirk that turned people off.”

I said, lying as easily as I breathed.

“So, wait-” Hot Ice spoke up, staring at me again. “You know judo and jeet kune do?”

I nodded with a grunt. “I told you I have an eidetic memory, or as good as. I know... a couple more? Bits and pieces of others, too.”

Deliberately low-balled so she wouldn't dismiss the claim out of hand.

Cassandra Cain was a monster in her own right, more than earning her place on a team with a preteen master acrobat, a woman who would go on to become a master information broker, a child-thief capable of stealing the wheels off a secured and armored multi-million dollar vehicle, a preteen master assassin and...

Well, I'm sure Tim had a few notable accomplishments under his belt, too. Heh.

Fuyumi's jaw slipped open slightly, recovering quickly with a shake of her head. “I... think we should do an assessment of your skills later, Shinso-kun. We have a private gym with a sparring area, you should take advantage of it while you're with us.”

I nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Visibly pushing past the most recent revelation, continuing on down the discussion of the newest vigilante in the city and eventually building a formidable profile. It was almost completely incorrect, but I was the last person who was going to tell them that. Besides, the amount of effort they'd be forced to expend on catching her was directly proportional to the amount of publicity she received. And that wasn't something I was planning on getting. Besides, last night had just been a test run, really. I hadn't planned on running into all that much trouble, just trying out the rooftop highway and getting acclimated to Tokyo's nighttime environment.

Oh well, I'd at least made some headway on one of my missions.

Vigilante: Stop at least five mundane criminals and one proper villain, taking credit for each confrontation in a manner which cannot be attributed to a licensed hero. Mapper Perk for Free.

Honestly? I'd rather have the points, but at least I'm moving towards something. As long as I prove I'm a good little Company drone, they shouldn't complain if I take my time.

I cracked the top off the energy drink and enjoyed being young again with a perfect physique by doing the most human thing I could: dumping neon-colored toxic chemicals into myself.

Mmm... tastes like cancer in four decades, refreshing!

“Okay, with that out of the way, I think our next stop is up to my dad. He's had meetings all morning and probably wants a break from them,” Hot Ice was speaking, looking down at her phone as she quickly typed in a message. “Yeah, he's free and wants to see us in his office. So up to the top floor we go!”

“Sure, let's-”

Acht-tick-fhu-click!

We both blinked, turning to where the loud noises were coming from.

A pair of insectile heteromorphs were standing, speaking to a member of the agency that I hadn't met yet. One of them, the adult, was giving the child next to him a harsh glare as he responded in a clicking language that-

Understanding snapped into place through the Binding on my ankle.

“-No! I don't wanna go! They took mama and papa! Why are you doing this, Uncle?! I don't wanna go!” The child yelled as he tugged and pulled.

Fuyumi sighed at my side and put a hand on my shoulder. “It's okay. Evidently the kid ran away from home, that's just his uncle picking him up. They're recent immigrants from an African country looking for stability, but he's having a hard time adjusting to Japan. We're actually lucky the uncle showed up.”

I turned, my eyes flicking back to the child.

“-I don't wanna go back in the cage!” The young insect heteromorph cried, his mandibles working desperately as he attempted to pull free from the adult's grasp again, only to receive a stern tug and a look of barely-masked murderous rage from the adult.

I raised a casual eyebrow and looked at Fuyumi, my mind whirring. “Lucky?”

She shook her head with a tired expression. “We were calling around consulates and embassies trying to find someone who knew the language the kid was speaking, but apparently its very rare. Something like less than half a million people speak it worldwide and barely anyone outside of Africa.”

“Ah, yeah... that'd be rough,” I nodded, taking another swig of my drink as we began walking.

Walking past the perfectly normal uncle and son.

When is a choice not a choice? When there's an innocent life on the line.

I gave the kid a happy wave, my body language outgoing and jovial. “Hey! Don't be upset kid! Your uncle will take care of you!”

I felt the bond between my voice and his mind form.

“Please! Help me! He's locked mama and papa away and they're going to hurt me for escaping!” The four-eyed child yelled up at me desperately, his chitin moving as his non-standard body attempted to convey whatever was necessary to get out of his situation.

Looks like I’m about to find out how far I can push my little excuse.

I froze, turning to face the adult, who was about to tell me to mind my own business as politely as he could. When I spoke, a series of clicks and snaps came out of my mouth instead of the local dialect of Japanese. “Your uncle is going to do what now?”

Our eyes met, his insectoid ones widening slowly as what I'd just done was driven home.

There was a moment where no one in the hallway moved.

Then I dodged a chitin-plated fist as the criminal made a stupid, panic-driven mistake.

~~~

Okay, still working on the Winning Peace Epilogue, but it's coming along nicely.

In the meantime, have another chapter of Mind Games.

This week will be the WP Epilogue (come hell or high water) and another chapter of one of the Industrious stories.

Hope everyone's having a great weekend and thank you again for all your support!