Agrippa
patreon
All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 16
🕑 Added 2021-10-29 03:28:56 +0000 UTCThe Power of Friendship.
Yes, it deserves the capital letters.
The Power of Friendship is one of the pillars of the Shounen genre. When one first hears about it, it’s easy to envision some heartwarming scene where friends gather their strength and push each other to further limits, maybe collaborating in a special combination attack that manages to take down a villain none of them could have managed to touch on their own.
Though, in the immortal words of Kaguya Sama’s Narrator (who also deserves the capital letters): But that is a lie!
The Power of Friendship is not the power of friends; it is not even the power a group of friends gather together. No, the truth, as is quite often the case with the Shounen genre, is far more sinister: it is the power one takes from their friends.
Think about it: let’s say the protagonist is on another planet, getting the stuffing beaten out of him by an alien real estate overlord. The battle is desperate, and he, as the main character, is at this point at a level none of his friends from earlier in the series can ever hope to reach. Things are getting quite dicey, because if he’s the strongest and yet so thoroughly outmatched, what hope is there? So, his friend from when the original series was actually fun and creative enough to merit all the hype (that didn’t derive from fancy haircare products) jumps in to throw one desperation attack that manages to enrage the villain enough that it gets him killed. The friend, not the villain. Obviously.
This is, by no means, an unusual scenario that should catch the main character by surprise. Indeed, this very friend has quite a friendly acquaintance with Saint Peter (because, apparently, Christians are all so high class that they need a dedicated usher into Paradise). Still, with the ease of long practice, this death manages to dredge up a rage that the complete and utter slaughter of his own race didn’t quite entice. And then he yells just long enough to make it clear this is a bit worse than stubbing his toe on the coffee table, gets a rush appointment with his most trusted hairstylist, and is now up to the challenge of making the evil alien rethink his aggressive purchasing strategies.
That is but one application of the heartwarming nature of the Power of Friendship: having a friend gruesomely die for your sake will increase your own strength to the very convenient level of being able to handle the current crisis with ease.
And if you think that was a cherry-picked example, I’d better not mention the time almost all of the cast managed to get themselves killed while he was taking his sweet time coming back from a year-long spa treatment…
So, for reasons pure and not at all self-serving nor cruel, I’m now calling Zaimokuza.
As the phone rings ominously like some kind of church bell from some anime with more budget than original ideas, I rethink today’s events. And yesterday’s events. And the other day’s events. And… well, I believe the pattern has already been established.
Basically, aside from all the Standard Male Gait Number Two inducing scenes, I believe I’m justified in feeling a bit freaked out at the fact that it is now official that I have two (two!) girlfriends who are not only aware of each other, but of me. Yes, they know they are my girlfriends; this is not another passage from my Dark History.
Which… It may take some getting used to.
There’s also the fact I just managed to get my two first loves to make out with each other and, as far as I’m aware, stopped Iroha from recording Yukinoshita’s thorough defloration. Frankly, I wouldn’t bet on it. Iroha is far too Iroha to ever be sure she’s not watching from the ceiling.
So, what is it that people who freak out at a sudden change in their lives do? Call their friends. Like a regular, sane, human being who isn’t involved in an illicit romance with his teacher nor been watched and recorded with said teacher by two different girls, isn’t contemplating whether a third girlfriend will be one too many, and—
For fucks sake! Pick up the phone already, you damn fattie!
“Yes? Blademaster General Zaimokuza speaking.”
“… Are you seriously still answering the phone like that?”
“Hachiman! My kinsman! What is it that my devoted vassal would ask of me at this late and not at all too inconvenient hour?”
“Zaimokuza… If you are trying to sarcastically tell me it’s too late and you’d rather speak at another time, you’re going to have to put in some actual effort. It’s a bit hard to discern irony from your Zaimokuzaness.”
“No! Not at all, if my bonded brother requires my help, the mere abyss of time shall be no more than a slight hindrance! I shall cross the rivers of Chronos to fight by your side, much as you waded through the Stix to be reunited with me in this life!”
… This shouldn’t be reassuring. And I hate myself a little bit more when I feel my shoulders loosen.
“Right. Well, I was calling you because I felt I could spare some suicidal brain cells and maybe I could consult—”
“Is he dying?” A muffled voice that doesn’t belong to Zaimokuza comes from the phone. And my shoulders are currently as loose as the jaw of someone about to be punched by a manly protagonist who wants his friend to be brought back to his senses after yelling at him to ‘clench his teeth.’ I feel I may have been a bit unclear on how loose my shoulders currently are. They aren’t. At all.
Also, it seems like friendship, pain, and Shounen are irrevocably intermingled.
“What? My Lady Minami, how can you ask such a thing! My sworn kinsman just called me to—”
“Ask him if he’s dying. If anyone at all is dying.”
“Uh… Hachiman? Do forgive my impertinence, but is anybody dying?”
My innocence. And the part of my brain that makes vivid pictures. It’s a double suicide.
“Not… that I’m aware of.”
“Ah. He says nobody is dying as far as his prodigious insight is capable of discerning.”
“Good. Then hang up and go back to what you were doing.”
“Lady Minami! How could you ever ask me to desert a friend just to—kyaaa!”
Sagami. On the one hand, I owe you a blood debt for your mercy at silencing the end of Zaimokuza’s line. On the other, I owe you the other kind of blood debt because of what you just inflicted on my poor, thoroughly abused yet still functional after accidentally reading far too many Fat Bastard doujins (that is, more than zero), imagination. I do believe they cancel each other, but as I’m a firm believer in the foremost principle of humanity that is pettiness, I may rethink this position at some point in the future. Likely, when Shizu gets distracted enough that I can raid all of her alcohol.
“No! Lady Minami, I shall stand firm—”
“Of course you will; that’s precisely what I’m counting on—”
I hang up the phone.
After no more than three seconds, Zaimokuza calls back.
I hang again.
And again.
And again.
It… It looks like he finally got the message.
Oh gods, he just sent me a message!
Right. Right. It looks like the Power of Friendship cuts both ways. Either that, or Zaimokuza is actually the main character of his own series and my current state of distress will only be fuel to push forward his training regime, romantic entanglements, or training regime through romantic entanglements—no! Brain, why?! What did I ever do to you?!
‘You tried to memorize and categorize all the different Fate timelines and continuities.’
And I already apologized for that!
‘If apologies were enough, we wouldn’t have lawyers, would we?’
Ah, Brain-chan, how utterly cruel, petty, and despicable of you.
‘Praise me more.’
That’s what I was doing. But as I currently am in even more dire need of reassurance and tenderness, I think maybe I should stop talking to you.
‘Oh, you’re smarter than you look.’
Praise me more.
‘That wasn’t—’
Sorry, not listening. I am now thoroughly engaged in the prospect of being nursed back to health by the little sister to end all little sisters.
Who is taking her sweet time answering my insistent knocking.
“Yes?” she finally asks, her face visible through the narrow stretch of light that her ajar door is letting out into the corridor.
“Komachi? Can I ask you to get a lap pillow?”
“…”
“…”
“Is this a sex thing?” Her face is twisting with enough disgust to be featured in a series with gorgeous animation yet no plot whatsoever about girls showing their panties. Note to self: kill anyone who looks like a casting director.
“No! Well, yes, but not about my sex—”
The door slams in my face.
I really should think things through before opening my mouth, shouldn’t I?
‘No, please. That sounds like too much work for me. Just keep committing social suicide or whatever it is that you do. You know, enjoy your healthy hobbies.’
It is not very reassuring that you don’t even know what my daily life actually looks like, Brain-chan.
‘Sure, sure, let’s say I don’t. Whatever makes you feel better. I love that rush of dopamine that comes with self-deception.’
Brain-chan, I’m starting to think you may have a secret alliance with Body-chan to overthrow me.
‘And who would be feeding you all those treasonous thoughts, uh?’
“Are you just going to stand there, looking at my door creepily?” Komachi’s voice interrupts my dia-monologue from the other side of said door.
So, gathering my courage, I open it just a bit.
Unlike what anime has trained me to expect, a pillow doesn’t come flying at me. Neither does a knife, so I will take that as a win.
“I… sorry, I just wanted to talk, but Zaimokuza… I called… Girlfriend… Kissy noises—gah!”
I feel this should be explanation enough.
And going by Komachi’s pale face, it may be.
“Mr. Chuuni has a girlfriend?” I hesitatingly nod. “And you interrupted them with your phone call?” I reluctantly nod. “And you now understand the deep trauma your recent actions have inflicted on your poor little sister?”
I cross my arms and ponder things for a moment. Then I waggle my hand.
Komachi sighs from where she’s sitting on her bed, then stretches her legs and pats her thighs.
I try not to beam.
Then I lie down on a mattress that should be precisely as soft as mine yet obviously isn’t because my parents’ favoritism is consistent even in these matters.
Understandably so. Who could blame them.
And then I lay my head upon thighs no other man shall ever claim.
…
Not like that.
‘Hey, not my fault you are perpetually stuck on the gutter setting. I only adapt to frequent stimulus.’
“You really need to stop getting so riled up by stupid things like these…” Komachi murmurs as her fingers thread through my hair and I feel at least a bit of tension evaporate.
It’s… We usually aren’t that physical, it’s something she has grown out of, and I’m far too used to being the gross older brother to ever ask for it, but… I admit something about the past few days, about showing and being shown affection through contact and warmth and skin… It’s not even about the sex, just… The connection.
And I remember quite a few times where I held Komachi while she cried, or she sat on my lap to watch a TV show, or we cuddled together while we slept during a long trip…
And I miss that.
It’s inadequate, improper, and all sorts of things. She’s a grown girl who’s already turning quite a few heads, and she shouldn’t be spoiling her gross older brother like this. She would be mortified if any of her friends ever learned about it, and—
“If you’re gonna keep making that face, I don’t know why I should bother. At least be more considerate with your sister and her devout efforts to earn more Komachi points.”
I look into eyes that were never like mine, into the spark and mischievousness and earnestness I always lacked.
And I smile.
“Thank you, Komachi.”
And I close my eyes and let myself rest.
***
“So, what was that actually about?” Komachi asks with feigned nonchalance.
“Isn’t Zaimokuza being an actual sexual being enough trauma to—”
“No.” And she stabs me with a finger. Being comfortably seated next to her on her far-too soft mattress (seriously, this discrimination is reaching levels unheard of), I am wholly unprepared to defend myself against her treasonous attack. Well played, Komachi; I’ve recently learned that calling out your attacks and expecting people to fight fair is a spectacularly bad idea.
“Fine! Fine! Darn it, no need to rearrange my internal organs.”
Komachi is staring at her finger.
“Are you… hard?”
What.
“No.”
“Uh, I mean—” she looks up from her finger and sees my, presumably, dead eyes before apparently making a connection. “No! Gods, no, not like that! Gross! So gross! Hachiman levels gross!”
Ah, that’s more like it.
“Then what—”
“Your sides! It’s hard, and not like—ugh. You just had to make me think about that.”
“You’re the one who said Zaimokuza having sex was not reason enough to seek solace from a carelessly cruel world.”
“Mister Chuuni is not my grossther!”
“Oh, that one’s new. Good job; I like the portmanteau.”
“Thank you!” Her face brightens, and her smile shows me enough teeth to flash, yet not enough to be worried for my life. A happy medium that seems to elude most of my female acquaintances these days. “Only the best for my big grossness!”
“That one’s just lazy.”
“Like you!”
“Oh. Good point.”
“I know—wait a second, are you doing this just to distract me from talking about your actual problems?”
“Uh… It’s not so much that I don’t want to talk about it, but that you may not want to—”
“Is this a sex thing?” She asks with what I believe is starting to resemble practice.
“… Partially?”
And Komachi buries her face in her hands.
“Fine. Talk. I’ll just pretend it’s the plot to some overly convoluted harem romcom.”
“Yeah, that’s basically what I’ve been doing.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
At that question, I go over the past few days, and… Well, I do have twogirlfriends.
“Surprisingly well.”
“Then your cute little sister will make an effort and do the same—”
“No. That is forbidden. You are not to think about—”
“Regarding you. I’m going to do the same regarding you. Seriously, you’re worse than dad at times.”
“Ah… right. Sorry.”
There’s a pause before she starts fidgeting. It may be interesting to see how long she can keep up the whole thing with covering her face.
“Well?”
And I sigh.
“I managed to get Yukino and Yui to kiss. They’re presumably in a relationship right now.” At this very moment, if I know anything about Yuigahama’s tendency to overdo things and the earlier kiss was anything to go by.
And her hands drop.
Wow, I’m good.
“You what? They what? Reality what?!”
“So, I think I managed to fulfill my promise?”
“When I asked you to take care of Yui, I didn’t mean for you to hitch her up with your hypotenuse!”
“Oh, it seems like your trigonometry studies are going all right.”
“Don’t you patronize me—”
“And your vocabulary is also—”
And another finger-stab. Really, it’s my fault for not wearing protection.
Not like that.
Also, I should ask Shizu what the Hell am I even—
“Right, so, you… Couldn’t you just have made things clear? Told them you were with another person?”
There’s a silence that comes between us. Familiar, even if I have only felt it on one other day before. Something that is not quite expectation rustling like dry leaves at the beginning of winter, like the ominous—
“What. Is. It.”
And I sigh.
“Two.”
Komachi, having recklessly forgotten what shelter she found behind her fingers, looks at me, her face as devoid of expression as her eyes of light.
I check the room for kitchen knives before elaborating. Yes, we are in her bedroom. No, I don’t think I’m being overly cautious.
“Two persons. I am… Both Shizu and Iroha are my girlfriends. And their own girlfriends. With each other, I mean.”
Komachi looks straight at me, then turns away and curls herself around her pillow.
I have the urge to pat her back, but I’m kind of attached to my hand, and I don’t want that to change.
“So… From voyeur to girlfriend. Is that all?”
“I… may have managed to convince Shizu to drop her stupid plan to make me ditch her for a younger girl.”
“By getting a younger girl to also be with her. Brilliant. As expected of your cunning plans, brother.”
“I don’t think any other man has ever been as caustically berated for being in a consensual menage-a-trois.”
“If you have to say it in French, assume it’s not normal.”
“And since when have I been normal?”
Komachi stills before she uncurls and resumes her seated position by my side. Then, still avoiding my eyes, she turns and…
She hugs me.
“You don’t have to be…” she murmurs against my chest.
“Komachi?”
“You don’t have to be normal. It’s not you. Never was. I just… I just love you the way you are, and I don’t want you to ever stop being the tender, gentle, devoted brother that you are. And if that means you are going to be tender, gentle, and devoted with two women who are smart enough to see that in you… Then I’ll be happy. Grossed out, but happy.”
At those words, at something that she has implied quite a few times but very rarely said, I…
I try not to tear up, because no matter what she says, a big brother crying just because his little sister says a few cute lines will be too gross even for her tolerance levels built up over the years.
But I shut up and hug her, cradling her against me, enjoying her warmth in all the ways I can feel at the moment.
It’s only after quite a while of quiet cuddling that I finally force out the words that have been on my mind since her last line.
“It may actually be three women…”
The finger stab is completely expected. The bite on my arm isn’t.
***
After quite a while of apologizing, explaining, and promising not to inundate the world with mini-Hachimans that will then go on to self-replicate with other unwary women, I leave Komachi’s room far more at ease (even if slightly more bruised) than when I came in.
At the cost of her irreparable trauma. It looks like the Power of Family works as well as the Power of Friendship.
So, as is my habit at this point, I decide to indulge in a bit of self-sabotage.
I take out my phone and call one of the very few numbers in my contacts.
I wait, the electronic notes grating on my nerves.
After seven tones, I hang up.
Because Haruno isn’t picking up. Just as I expected.
Comments
Agrippa
Note taken!
Pope Yoda I
I enjoy the interludes that sprinkle other characters into the story. We don't get enough 'adorable baby sister coming to terms that her brother evolved into a p.i.m.p.'. I really, really want to have the fallout once the parents catch on to be from her perspective. I'm sure it'll be amazing.
Agrippa
Uh... I mean, the interlude should be coming before next Thursday, so... spoilers?
Nick Russo
I really hope Haruno isn’t mentally and emotionally torturing herself.
