“No, It’s fine, really. What are you cooking?” Working my way closer, I saw what I thought was a small pot of potatoes was in fact a too large pot repurposed with to cook pea pods, while the mixture of potatos, onions, fake meat, and carrots cooked in the other pan, submerged under water.
“Nikujaga, stand back for a sec.” Asahi grabbed the metal handles with a pair of fabric potholders to empty the small amount of water simmering the snow peas. Stepping back in as she moved to the sink, I turned off the still going burner, and ferried several plates to the table as well as a large bowl for the finished product of my sister's efforts. Asahi stirred the remaining pot, futilely waving in an attempt to disperse the heat that permeated the stuffy room, while I used my hand to gather the peels that remained scattered around the kitchen. After a few minutes, a distinct ding echoed through the house: “Hey, I think I heard someone at the door. Could you please greet Oton? You can tell him dinner will be done shortly.”
I nodded and padded to the door, and sure enough Otou-san, Mr. Takaba, was there half-bent over, removing his thin black shoes while his checkered blue and white tie hung out of the dark gravel-colored suit. Patting down his grey pantleg as he stepped onto the raised step and into his home slippers, Takaba took off the business suit, underneath which he wore a white long-sleeve shirt. “Asahi said to tell you dinner will be done shortly.” He looked at me and smiled, “Sure . . . but that doesn't mean shoes are allowed in the house.”
Oh, how did he realize so quickly? Her slippers weren’t anywhere around, I scanned the steps for any evidence Otou-san would have seen. “Whenever she does take them off, Asahi always leaves them right here.” He gestures to the middle of the passage leading up to the step, “You can’t miss them.” Walking forward he out-paces me and enters the kitchen. “Asahi, thank you for the food.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied without turning to face him, her hair bouncing in the air as she twiddled with the switch to turn off the venting.
“But, what are those shoes doing my house?” His tone is almost amicable but Otou-san is clearly not too pleased.
“Ah. . . what do you mean?”
“The shoes.”
“What shoes?”
“. . .”
“Oh, the shoes.”
“Yes, the shoes,” his head slightly tilted back as he absent-mindedly rolls up his sleeves and washed his hands in the sink, “Put them back at the entrance, I'll take care of the nikujaga”
“Okay,” she patters off to the doorway as Otou-san takes over cooking, draining the pot with the use of a sturdier pair of oven mitts that barely fit his hands. “Shijimia can you get . . .” he trails off, the table already set and glasses filled with water. “Thank you. At least I have one responsible child.”
“Hey! – I’m responsible too!” Asahi said returning to the room.
“Well, that depends. Why may I ask was your bicycle in the middle of garage.” Asahi cringed, “Ah, that was – was . . .”
“And the TV?”
“Huh?” She seemed genuinely confused, completely unawares, “You left it playing all night yesterday, you know its on the fritz.”
“I did?”
No response but long suffering sigh resounded as Otou-san cracked his chopsticks. He hesitate before in a much softer tone, not warm but clearly appreciative: “Thank you though for everything. I couldn't have done this move without you.” A silence settled over the table, and even I could not miss what he was referencing. When the incident occured, Asahi was first to arrive at my school and the last to leave, visting more than anyone else when I was in hospital and Otou-san was restricted from coming by visting hours and his work. She was the one that helped Otou-san pack and sell the house in Osaka while I was stuck in those facilities. Even though she forgot somethings, Asahi always remembered the important ones.
We ate dinner in the dim lighting from the single ambient LED blinking from below the architect-required control station for temperature and stuff. It also doubled as a charging port for Otou-san's work phone, though just because he had a “work” phone didn't mean had a home or personal one either. “... I was telling Biora, you really can't just pour bleach on everything icky. But did she listen? N0000! You should have smelt it, the stench was unbelievable!”
“I can imagine,” Mr. Takaba dryly answered. “She seems to rather be a bad influence. Wasn't Biora the one that convinced you to sneak out after curfew?”
“It was half my idea anyway and Sora was there ... Wait! How did you know I snuck out last week, we didn't even get caught this time!”
“I didn't,” he raised an eyebrow, “So now Sora is sneaking out too. I can't say I approve.” A dull silence settled over the table, Otou-san methodically ingesting his meal, Asahi picking apart the synthetic beef with her chopsticks, and my disposable fork dragging across the ceramic, distinctly present even if I wasn't. Just as the silence had become almost comfortable, Asahi twirled her chopsticks scissoring a stray carrot slice, the piece flying as a projectile across the table, skidding onto my plate. Nobody noticed. “Tou-san, I was thinking . . .”
“Yes?”
“Ingintzel hasn't been out since - you know.” She emphasised my name like weapon, turning the conversation to my least favourite topic: myself.
“I suppose you are correct, but still she only just returned to school today.” Not started, I simply returned.
“So what are you suggesting?” Mr. Takabe leaned backwards his chopsticks neatly placed beside the finished plate. Asahi hesitated before continued, building steam like an armoured-plated train: “You know the park out east? The one people go to occasionally around here? Well, I was wanting to take Ingintzel there. Everyone says the sun is healthier out here without the Skyling. Even, Doctor Cao told me that keeping her cooped up isn't good for her health . Who knows? We could meet someone there, and you know what school is like, forced proximity and social interaction aren't the same. It would just be afternoon but I think it would do her good.”
A slight pause, “With Biora and Sora?”
“No, I'm meeting them after the last train back.” Asahi's posture relaxed, not expecting the question but not concerned by it either. If he was already asking about the specifics, it meant Otou-san was clearly considering it. But I didn't miss the implications of her response. Ever since portals started popping up, trains were mostly restricted to daylight hours, when people were out and about, making undetected merging less common. Even then, there were many additional security measures and zoning to slow down the trip. Supposedly my grandparents could have arrived in Osaka in less than half-an-hour after departure. But leaving at sunset, Asahi would arrive just before midnight. Neither me or Otou-san spoke the obvious, breaking curfew, and he didn't even ask if it was another party.
A pregnant pause stretched across the table, as Otou-san consdiered, before he broke the silence. “Of course, you can. I think that's a great idea. Just make sure you get her home safe, I will probably be working again.” At that the tension left the room, and I swiftly started to collect the dishes while Otou-san stood up walking over to the door. Midway through placing a cup into the dishwasher, a loud ringing noise resounded, breaking my concentration, the glass slipping like butter from fingers. The brittle false-glass cup clattered to the floor, rolling towards Asahi's feet. Even though the item wasn't broken, a flood of useless adrenaline, hopelessness, and nerves coursed through my body. Suppressing the urge to run away, I quietly mumbled an apology as I brought the offending cupware back for a second wash. Asahi mutely took it without another word, while Otou-san's voice answered the phone. “Yes, this is Takabe. No? Shijimia? Yes, I can get her.” I looked at Asahi who gestured for me to go just as Otou-san called out, “Shijimia! Doctor Cao is on the phone!”
As I began my walk, I felt my demeanour shift, my shoulders shifting back, my face twisting up into a smile like a flower blooming, but one made of flesh and muscle. Everyone said you could tell the difference between a genuine and fake smile, but it really wasn’t true. Any expression could be faked, it only depended on sheer confidence and the receptiveness of the person receiving it. Sugar-coated lies were far more genuine than the dubious half-truths people claimed to be the honest nature of things. Walking to the phone I started the dismantling the device from the wall causing a loud a crack; the port really was meant to charge batteries, not devices the proportions of phones, but still I had succeeding in getting it. Putting the phone back in would be a struggle though.
In my hands, the thin metal screen was larger then my palm even the actual devcie was barely thicker then a single coin. However, it was encased in bulky hard orange and black plastic protection case much more at home in my father’s hands than mine. “Hello Ingintzel. This is Cao Da!”
“Hi,” I said, swiftly walking up the stairs, not minding the noise my footsteps made. “Yep, it’s me.”
Opening the door, I walked inside before toggling the video. A grainy version of me appeared in the corner of the screen before resolving into a clear picture of the room. Behind the pop-up, the screen displayed a clear office room, behind which sat a Chinese lady, her hair tied in a bun, and looking the part of a prestigious clerk, only lacking the glasses. A little name tag identified her as “Cao Da, Social Worker.” A mixture of feelings welled in my stomach just looking back her, relief at not being there in person, anxiety based on being reminded of the incident. The sensation of bring back how I still remained different from my sister, unable to really connect, and strange elation but also disappointment at the realization this was the last time I would be contacted by her. She didn’t represent the highlight of my life and outside these meetings I rarely interacted with her, scratch that, I never interacted with her. But Cao had done a lot for me.
If it weren’t for her, I would still be in a military hospital, estranged and alone in Earth but seperate from society. It just made my lies I had planned dig into my own wounds a litte deeper, but I couldn’t tell her everything. I needed to pretend everything was fine, because as much as she was a social worker, my eyes darted the office door in the room, she also was the facilitator of my reintegration into society. An facilitation was to make something possible, and as easily as she could enable she could also forbid. The military just wanted to keep everyone safe . . . me included, but I knew how they would react to me. I had seen it play out as I lost control of the situation, blown out of proportion and never, ever, ending well.
“So how did today go?”
“Great thanks,” I flashed another small smile shifting to a seated position on the bed, “It was a bit hectic starting classes after everyone else, but I think I made a friend.”
I took a breath before continuing: “Her name is Jue, short for Jurietto. She's in most of my classes and is also taking No’chiviki, so that’s great. She helped me out finding my way around the building to and from class for most of the day. Oh, and Jue grew up here so she knows a lot about everything.” Words flow from my mouth, with little bits and pieces of the afternoon hidden in them, but tantalizingly out of reach. It was better not to fixate.
A faint hint of concern was evident in Cao's expression: “I know you told me you wanted to take No’chiviki but I could always make arrangements for a different foreign language if you want. The offer remains open.”
“No, honestly I like Kosele so far and the school too. It’s just so different from, well, being . . . there,” I waved an arm in a vague gesture to the ceiling. It wasn't like there was a standardized direction to point towards another dimension. “I like it here, it’s peaceful.” Something about that was genuine, it really was more peaceful than I ever remember, though I honestly couldn’t say if that was in relation to Osaka or . . . there.
“No problems at home?”
“Nope, Asahi is leaving tomorrow morning to return to Osaka. Needs to keep up with her courses; it’s her final year before she graduates with a degree in Fine Arts.”
“And your father?”
“Things can be a bit weird, it was just a few months ago that I was wrapping up 7th grade from his perspective, but yeah, everything is fine. I guess my room shows, I haven’t gotten around to redecorating yet.” I pick up the phone and slowly spun it around, the empty walls and brightly colored blanket distinctly visible. Ironically though, I never actually lived here until after the incident, most of the decoration was by me and my sister on the spare weekends in the summer, taking the trip out of Osaka to our Kosele home. It kinda was like a holiday home ever since I entered Middle School, but it hadn't hit me what I should do my room.
“It is rather empty,” Cao noted, “What are you thinking?”
“I honestly really don’t know, but if I could I would probably fill it up with books. But I probably need at least some room to breathe. Maybe a minimalist look, what do you think?”
“Well, that is hard to say, but I wouldn’t say they are exclusive. Everyone has some stuff, it just depends on the person,” the therapist hovered her hand over the desk, where a few paperclips sat, and glanced towards the wall, on which a few certificates and unidentifiable photos were framed.
We talked of inconsequential details for a while, and I made a show of moving the bookcase around the room, debating composition and functionality. Meanwhile the connection cut out for minutes at a time, and halfway through the video shorted, probably magical distortion-related, and refused to be reconnected.
“Well, I am sad that I couldn’t meet you in person this time, but I would strongly be recommending following up with a therapist in Kosele. It can be hard opening up to another person, but society is a lot different here. Even though things are going well now, its good to have at least made contact. Even so, if you ever need me, doesn’t matter the time or day, you can call me. Do you have my phone number from last time?”
“Yeah,” I pulled a small notebook from the shelf stuffed with little notes and slips of paper, reminders, and thoughts. Opening to the page, somewhere in the middle, I read out the number, not escaping my notice for the second time that it was a cellphone number.
“Well unfortunately our session has come to a close. It’s not often that cases are as a smooth as this, you handled the changes well for what happened, but do make sure to reach out, its okay to share more with others sometimes. Nobody will fault you for needing help.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, and the video call ended. Collapsing back on the bed, I let out a long breath, just lying there, unmoving. I could act, I could pretend, but I felt terrible. I should have just told her, I should have not lied. I shouldn’t have hidden the Flower. I should have told her. I should have at least been myself. Why didn’t I? Why was I always pretending? Why? Why? Why? – I felt no motivation to move, the phone lolling at the tips of my fingers, about to fall on the fall. My legs crumbled and I slumped to the floor, my limbs like putty, weakly spasming. I H-A-T-E Y-O-U. That was my one thought, and after few moments I got up, the general guilt and self-loathing fading to manageable levels. I still felt terrible but whatever. I wouldn't let the Flower define my life. Peaking out, I started to make way downstairs, and found Asahi lounging on the couch and trundled over.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.”
. . .
“Where’s Otou-san?”
“Went out again. Working at night, remember?”
“Oh.” I watched as Asahi surfed replays of TV on the ancient display, before settling on a random rom-com. I hadn’t seen the series before and the show looked like something out of when the web actually existed, like a century ago. Drawing my eyes away I noticed the other device still in my hands. Didn’t he need his phone?
“Said he didn’t need it.” Asahi spoke up from the couch, and startled, I resisted the urge to drop to the ground, my legs almost slipping. I tightly sealed my lips, unsure whether I actually spoke my question out loud, I thought I hadn't but maybe I was losing more control over myself than I thought. Sleep always helps, I started back up the stairs but paused: “Will I see you tomorrow morning?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Dunno, depends. Maybe?” She wasn’t listening, engrossed in the screen as one character started shouting over an engagement.
“Okay.”
***
Cao leaned back in her chair, contemplating as the end screen for the video call filled her computer moniter with bright green light. Something was wrong. She couldn’t prove her intuition, but the social worker had a hunch. Maybe after her recent streak of difficult cases, this was simply a manifestation of the rarity of such a clean case. Ingintzel had one day been ripped from her childhood, thrust into the civilisation of the Mayaic-Vorse, only rescued, or maybe was returned being a better description, after years. Time wasn't consistant across portals and even now, people only the low multiverse momentum of Earth a problem. She wasn’t a scientist and the complexity of the whole theory put rocket science to shame, but Cao did know the basics and some job specific knowledge working for the military helping portal survivors.
In fact, a few waxy grey planetery brochures sat in a stack on the edge of her desk, for friends, family, and any affected individuals on just this sort of thing. Where there were magical distortions, the source of monsters and reality warping traps, there was also the chance for a portal. Something about the two phenomena being due to a collision between the space-time continuums of two multiverses. Over the centuries, they had infrequently occurred, scaring the populace collectively and some elements of truth being incorporated into folk lore and culture, though rarely correctly. After all, if Marco Polo mistook rhinoceros for unicorns, what hope did any accurate information to survive the ages about hideous honest-to-goodness asymmetrical monster? Still sometime in the early twenty first century a series of unknown collisions, hypothesised ex post facto, led to universe gaining “cosmic hyper-acceleration,” and depending who you asked what that was, there was a different answe. Still, what was true was the increasing number of such disturbances and the consequent collapse of globalisation as magical distortions introduced magic to the world..
However, the most important takeaway for Cao, something she had seen break people and families, was that whenever a portal started to close, a process that stretched from a few hours to half-a-day, time tended to diverge. Every second here began to translate into days, weeks, months there. Technically, the dilation was in the crossing of portal but it made no difference. In the course of a day, a parent could become a crippled elder, a baby a child, and a pregnant woman a mother, all of which she had faced over her career as a coordinator for these returnees, or in this case, a child to a teenager. As it was, standing there at the portal at the time, nobody had been certain the portal was stable enough to properly attempt an operation. The military was seriously considering letting it go as too dangerous an option, something that made Cao appreciate how lucky Takabe for the operation to go through and her to be returned. Although two years was fairly average for the expected time for returnees once the portal started to close, the dilation was still on the higher end. Cases more than four years were rare, mainly because the military found it impossible to trace the trail of Earth chemicals and signatures after so long, but she heard cases of nearly half-a-century so nothing was really impossible.
Yet, even after spending all that time trying adapt to the Mayaic-Vorse civilization, Takabe was still appearing to be a regular Japanese girl. Beyond the language difficulties and a lesser knowledge of etiquette, it was amazing her manners and lack of suspicion, despite the civilization not being known for kindness. Rather some particular savage rituals were the norm, each of which gave Cao a few increasingly concerning guesses for the origin of Takabe's scars. Walking over to the gun-metal grey bureau, Cao started to rifle through the draw labelled “T” for the hundreth time. The cool metal of the frame, actual real metal, rested against her hand. Normally, nowhere had metal, it was simply too dangerous with magical distortions, but it was common knowledge, alongside the lack of comment on it, that the military had a way to protect certain buildings or areas from the threat. Why schools and other places with large numbers of children were not included in these zones was beyond Cao, and something she would advocate for if it weren't for her job. Dismissing the thought, the military social worker found the repurposed hanging file folder, and as she looked at her palm, Cao found the folder was simply too empty.
The first pages were various reports on the magical distortion at Nippubashi Middle School, complicated by the lack of survivors. Near the back was a stack of medical reports but the only really document that included the stuff of importance was a few pages of paper. The military post-incident assessement of “Takaba Shijimia”:
Military Class File 283-JE-A38C [Redacted for Private Internal Use]
Date of Compilation: 13/05/2119
Compilier: [Redacted]
Overseer: [Redacted], [Redacted]'s Commanding Officer
Birth Name: Takabe Shijimia
Date of Birth: 28/03/2106
Parents: Gorou Takabe and Akari Takabe [Deceased]
City of Residence: Osaka
Context:
Takabe Shijimia was discovered as the sole survivor of the 763 individuals present in ground zero of the Nippubashi Magical Distortion of 2119, having utilized a singular-restricted Mayaic-Vorse portal of unknown chronological continuity to escape the vicinity. The distortion was detected at 10:19 AM and manifesting at 10:27 AM, while the portal having predicted to have solidified between the distortion's detection and manifestation. The school's Operand at 10:29 AM to facilitate learning in the younger generation. The safety valve was breached by a [REDACTED] at 11:12 AM. At 11:18 AM, by the request of Operator 1833, the safety shelter was abandoned by 631 individuals after the death of a teacher and two students. An estimated 700 of the 763 individuals had died by 12:00 PM, see corresponding investigation for further details on preventation and human failure in Nippubashi Middle School Massacre.
Sometime between an estimated mimimum 11:25 AM and and known maximum of 12:43 PM, Takabe entered the portal on the ground floor. At 12:44 PM the last remaining human was confirmed dead in the building. The [REDACTED] military detachment arrived at 2:38 PM and [--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------REDACTED------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------] retrieved Takabe at 3:36 AM from the portal. Initally not recognized due to a change in skin coloration, heavy scarring, and an uncooperative temperment, her identity was confirmed in hospital using a blood test in hospital. Reliability of the identification is high, based off reference samples collected in accordance with the Mandatory Portal Act for the Protection of Affected Individuals in 2113 and scanned for magical interference and disguising. Foreign inter-planular matter was detected, but was not further investigated at the request of the assigned Social Worker Cao Da. Initial testing indicates the matter being dormant and active in response to stress. However, having not become active in the aftermath of the portal crossing, the matter likely will remain permeantely dormant.
Of particular note is Takabe Shijimia's grasp over No'chiviki, exceeding Earth standards by an estimated 260 to 710 percent. In an inital panic after being returned to Earth by [REDACTED], improper following of the Standard Language Protocols of Foreign Planes by [REDACTED], led to [REDACTED] being injuried and temporarily disabled. However, injuries appeared to have been largely superifical, and no further attempts to utilize No'chiviki in any manner beyond communication was made by Takabe in the following months.
She expressed clear interest in return to a “normal” life and made significant efforts to reacclimitize to Earth, relearning Japanese at a highly accelerated rate and showing the capacity for normal social interaction, though less frequently than expected. Initial signs of PTSD, depression, and severe anxiety were recorded, but extended observation only confirmed the presence of anixety and antisocial behaviour, though suspected PTSD remains.
Threat Status: Non-hostile Invested Grade-4 Threat
Note: She appears unaware of her accelerated healing and inter-planular magic. Standing orders to withhold this information remain effective until repealed.
Containment Protocols to be followed:
[REDACTED]
[Witheld in line with Aurgon Vs. Military, to retain privacy and normality for the individual in question.]
Past History:
Takabe Shijimia previously lived between Kosele and Osaka, being a first-generation immigrant to Osaka from a family of mixed Japanese origins. She lost her mother in 2110 in the 2110 Sumteruani Station Crash, and now her immediate family consists of her father and older-by-birthyear sister, Takabe Asahi, the latter of which expressed initial hesitation on confirming the blood tests; however, monitered interactions prior to May 13 suggested a continued positive relationship. Concerns have been expressed by [REDACTED] over Takabe Asahi, who expresses clear opposition to authority, to negatively impact future decisions made by Takabe Shijimia. This was deemed unlikely to have any significant threat more than reduced family conections as prior cases such as [REDACTED] have shown.
As a child, Takabe Shijimia's school records suggest a strong idolization of Superheros and Magical Girls, having been heavily involved as an canidate operand for multiple no-casualty magical distortions through her childhood as well as a trained operator. Previous work as an Operand, however brief, should be noted, and Cao Da reports contuined interest in non-combatant breaucratic military-aligned governmental positions. Interest in Superheros and Magical Girls appears to be significantly reduced, and any discussion of them led to quick terminiation of converstation in recorded interactions.
Medical and Mental Evaluation:
Upon recovery of Takabe Shijimia, Doctor Chee was tasked with an immediate physical exam of the returnee. She was also the individual that applied the tranqualizer after [Redacted] was injuried and acted out of protocol, having [Redacted]. No immediate injuries were present except minor bruising and abrasions on knees and arms from the rescue attempt. Upon examination, self-inflicted bite-marks in an attempt to remove the metal handcuffs and shackles were found, in addition brute force broken distal and proximal phalanxes in the left hallux. While the patient was unconcious, Doctor Chee applied a splint and moved her to the Sixth Osaka Military Hospital, filing admission on the same day. The full physical examination and X-ray were preformed there, starting at 10:12 AM. Contuined sedation was maintained, and the dosage increased as medical equipments registered an adapative magic-augmented immune system in the interim between admission and testing, prohibiting the use of previously prescibed pain medications. Doctor Chee found heavy scarring on every part of body, with nonfunctional arms, a repeatedly burned branding on the left shoulder, and a predicted locomotive disability. Higher than average healing rates, with minimal scarring beyond existing damage, were recorded for the previously noted injuries sustained in rescue operation. X-rays and a CAT-scan to further analyze the results as well as an MRI, revealed all major bones and most minor bones to have been broken at some point. All internal healing incorporated an unknown substance that is lighter and predicted to be weaker than bone, with a known transperancy to higher frequency radiation. [--------------------------------------------------------------------REDACTED--------------------------------------------------------------------] Concern must be taken to prevent [REDACTED]. The CAT-scan was unable to identify the design of the assumed branding, and thus unmatched to all known tribal ritual designs. Damage suggest the patient has been subjected repeatedly to unknown levels of brute force trauma combined with extended periods of skin contact with thermal-conductive materials heated to at least eighty degrees Celsisus, repeatedly. Blood and DNA tests revealed no abnormalities and confirmed her identity and estimated age as approximately 16, without accounting for [REDACTED]. This established a offical baseline for the period of time spent in the portal as three years. No foreign matter was found within her brain, though results were unclear. Doctor Chee was denied her request to preform a follow-up ceberal fluid examination at the insistence of Cao Da, citing the procedure as “invasive” and “. . . unneceassary for a Non-hostile Invested Grade 4 Threat.” A spinal fluid examination was also requested and approved, revealing no abnormalities despite the unknown foriegn matter being present in the bone marrow, every other tested organ, and the bloodstream. A more detailed account and list of medical procedures preformed is restricted to authorized military personnel to prevent misuse and discrimination.
Upon awakening, and demonstrating full control over all appendages, Takabe was introduced to her case worker and temporary therapist Cao Da. At this point she was determined to be Non-hostile despite her inital actions. Further reports on her mental state are pending on the termination of therapy, but Social Worker Cao confirmed her status as a Non-hostile Invested individual with a stable mental state. Amnesia was recorded, initally completely unable to reconginze Earth and Japanese technologies, nor her immediate relatives. Siamet Kuen acted as a high-level No'chiviki translator prior to the patient relearning Japanese. A several months of accilimization period prior to her release from custody was mandated, over which her conversations with others alongside her behaviours were recorded. A strong resistance to medical procedures, though not pain, was recorded, refusing offered plastic surgery, and becoming agitated but not aggressive upon extended discussion of the state of her body. A strong hostility to the Mayaic-Vorse was recorded, but not matched by any desire to act upon such emotions. She exhibited caution and a good sense of self-control suggesting she perhaps was a criminal rather than slave. A standing order exists for Social Worker Cao Da to report any information gathered regarding the patient's experiences in the portal, for public safety and the accumulation of knowledge of the Mayaic-Vorse. Interrogration and therapy proved ineffective, the patient proving unresponsive in all manners upon the subject being brought up, regardless of approach or individual, including natural converstations with family.
Conclusion:
Takabe Shijimia has been cleared for release from the Sixth Osaka Military Hospital as of May 13, 2119 under conditions of a permeant change of address to Kosele, and continued living as a minor until graduation under Takabe's care. Enrollement in High School IS NOT waved, with accelerated learning sufficent to forgoe missed years and enter high school. Until she relocates to Kosele, weekly sessions will continue with Cao Da to confirm no changes in mental condition and sufficent readaption to society.
Cao sighed, pushing her chair out, remembering every detail from the fractal broken nature of the portal in the demolished hallway to being handed by this report by Yachi herself. Repeatedly Cao had been over-ridden and her requests refused. Only when Doctor Chee had gone as far as to suggest an extraction of Takabe's brain fluid, knowing how Takabe felt about those kind of procedures, did the military put their foot down on Doctor Chee. Or maybe she just exceeded the military's desire for further information. Even though technically Takabe could have denied any medical procedure besides the inital assesments mandated under Third Amendment of Portal Protocols, the military could also very easily ensure she never left the buidling. She was a Threat-level 4, the highest threat-level allowed to reintegrate into society without monitering, but what she needed was supportive environment without the constant tension. As a social worker for the military, Cao's role was more of a lapdog than an actual social worker, her reports edited and completely ignored beyond any information pertaining to the Mayaic-Vorse. Not that she could to do much, it wasn't well known but military social work was a profession that only developed in the 2140s, and even though sharing the name of governmental social workers, the jobs could not have been more different.
A knock interupted her thoughts, “Yes?”
“Cao-san?” the thin receptionist poked his head inside, his eyes darting around the room, “Officer Yachi is requesting your presence.”
“Noted, you can tell her I will be there in a few minutes after I finish writing up my case files.” The man hesitated, his eyes glazing over untouched paper and pen compared to the disarray of reference files. Wisely, he said nothing and left, leaving Cao to mull over what to do. She probably had four to five minutes before she really needed to start walking across the building, but until then there was still a few moments. Cao wasn't a therpist as much as a person who military wanted to make believe was one. In truth she was a forsenic science gradute with a Masters and doctorate in pyschology. Case after case, each investigation she was involved in had to abandoned after discovering there was a SII involved, even when there were lives on the line, so she thought that joining the government would allow herself free reign. It was just another leash. Even though the document in her hand was nowhere near the classification level she could access, Cao had no desire to read the restricted version, and really it was just military information on how magic worked and its limits. Nothing about how Shijimia wanted to change her name to Ingintzel; nothing about how she still spoke in stilted Japanese, each word measured and paced with a visible effort not to variate her pronunciation; nothing about how Takabe couldn't taste, one of many daily experiences the military deemed “irrelevant.”
For someone planning a coup maybe she was in an ideal position, but honestly her capacity for changing the system was not very different from Robatu, the “Redacted” soldier that broke protocol and as part of his punishment had to write this very report. Ca0 knew she herself had been the one to convince the military to mandate the relocation from Osaka to Kosele, somewhere which hopefully familiar enough from her childhood to not be too forigen but not have negative memories of Osaka to be negative. Everyone in the city she had known was now years younger than her, and her new peers the teenagers she used to look up to as older role models, not fellow students. Still, the opportunity to try and help Takabe had come and gone, and Cao despite her best had only gotten so far. The child had never opened up and now the military would strongly restrict Cao from continuing to “interfere.” The social worker had dropped hints about her private line being “secure” and “completely private” whenever she could, but Takabe never took her up on the offer. Not hat Cao was under any illusion tha military didn't have it tapped too. If there was one thing the government cared about regarding social workers actually helping their patients, was conspiring, especially with many returnees by very nature being magical. Otherwise, the tapping was just to prevent a coup, though leaking private information would be more accurate. Still, a private line would allow her to bit looser with her words, unlikely to be overhauled to double-check Takabe's mental stability.
Still there must be something Cao could do for the girl. Although she had to pretend like she was oblivious and Takabe was completely normal, her recommendation for a therapist was legitimate. Unlike her, Takabe could talk to them freely, confidentiality clauses and all, without repercussions for finding her a liability. However, Cao couldn't force the girl go to a therapist and trying to make the decision for her was out of question. The word of military social worker carried a weight Overseer Yachi would not appreciate being utilized in such a manner, even lightly, a very clear example of “interference.” Was there anyone she could call that wouldn't take her words as an order? An equal, maybe, outside the military that owed her a personal favor. Well, there was one . . .
“Hello, this is Kosele Integrated Therapy, how may I - ” a young voice started, but I was in a rush, the receptionist would back soon to “remind me” about Yachi if I didn't hurry.
“Please, put me onto to Daigaku, you can tell him it is Cao Na requesting.”
“I am sorry. Currently, he is - ”
“How much money has he put from the company tab this quarter? Fifty thousand, one hundred thousand yen?”
The silence clearly meant I had hit home; you didn't work for Daigaku and not know his continual failure stick to a budget, not that he cared. For a secretary on the other hand, it was a nightmare. I let it stretch for a moment longer.
“I'll clear it for you. A 'donation' from the military, labelled Social Worker Cao Da for a blank virtual check of up to sixty thousand yen will be signed for Daiguku as of tomorrow morning.” Invoking my status as military social worker was enough to make any therapy group rearrange their schedules, but some financial lubrication went a long way in improving your image. Also, Cao was feeling petty and in the grand scheme that much money was nothing compared to what Superheros and Magical Girls casually took out for dinner.
“Sure, I will connect you right now.”
Money truly made the world go round. Ring, ring . . .
Ingintzel is introduced to her Kosele High life. If anyone is currently reading this, I would love to hear any suggestions or comments you have, or if I made a mistake. As for the different perspective at the end of chapter, I will have similar ones throughout the story, but I don't intend for them to be leads, and each of them will relate directly with our protagonist. I don't know about you, but I dislike exteneded flashbacks or entire chapters following random characters the protagonist randomly met.
Any advice on how to further give each character a unique dialogue personality are welcome, as well as the use of contractions and jargon versus colloquialisms outside of speech. I am considering changing some of mentions of sister to onee-sama and onee-san similar to use use of otou for dad, but still considering at this point.