“Very true. It is none of their business what skills or connections one has for the majority of people.” Michiru meant every word by that: she’d lost count on how many times she had needed to justify her choice for her work associate and stop the endless line of questions on if it was suitable for a person with her reputation. Even though the reasoning on Reo having knowledge she didn’t possess was enough to get them off from her back it annoyed her a lot that the older, more stuck-up people didn’t get it.
On one hand she understood why but on the other she’d gotten enough proof on trusting enough in him not to turn against her. Reo was in the end a civilian with a horrible fate and a mortal with more humane viewpoint to the world than the one she had instead of a demonic being with no empathy. It was an odd combination, but on the other hand so had been her parents’ whole affair: It wasn’t like she was an exception to the whole rule.
The excitement of the prospect of being more capable to save money and fix things on her own showed in the voice tone and how she was ready to clarify her intentions. "Excellent. It would be only for maintenance and minor altering, if needed. As much as I like relying in professionals’ help they are at times slow and shipping durations are a nuisance if they are fixing a gun what I have assigned to elemental bullets instead of normal ones.” In addition to getting an actually useful skill she’d get see the dexterity and skill in action again.
“That sounds like a viable plan. Though… are you sure that insides of an radio is easy for a rookie of my level? I can try to keep up, but don’t assume me to be a miracle child or nail it perfectly.” She still had her faith in this and how it wouldn’t be a waste of time. And even though it’d be wasted time, at least it was a shared moment. Mortals liked to have them, right?
Huh?
Elemental bullets?
What?
Okay, she knows Michiru’s world is different, there are demons and no Personas and she’s a quarter angel, but what—? Elemental bullets? As in, a bullet can contain a fire spell? If she accidentally drops it, the whole room could burst into flames because of it?
It shouldn’t matter because there is no gun or elemental bullet in sight. It’s just the radio on her desk and Michiru surely didn’t bring those special things with her. She can’t leave her home without them, but a visit to a normal world should be fine. Shadows don’t crawl out of TVs and the red fog is basically done with. It’s fine.
All fine.
“Well, first you just need to unscrew the back part.” She hands Michiru a screwdriver. “Once you’re done with that, I can tell you all about the insides. It’ll be fun! Just don’t drop it…”
Unscrewing the back is the easiest step in dismantling objects. It’s working with the tiny, delicate parts that’s a hassle. No other kid at school could understand why she had a fascination with something that could easily break, take hours to repair and had any purpose that wasn’t fun, but her goals were farbeyond their understanding.
She won’t have to pay a few hundred thousand Yen just to fix a broken TV or an old PlayStation 2. Technology is a wonderful innovation. Years ago, video games would be using clunky polygon models and calling it state-of-the-art.
But really matters is the story. Graphics are less important. The hours she has spent playing Silent Hill 2 can attest to that.
“Sometimes I just don’t eat.” Forgetfulness or simply choosing not to. Either way, it’s not like she purposefully starves herself. Some people can go a full day without a full meal, and she is no stranger to that, especially when a challenging case has her in a vice grip. “But no, I’m not usually this lightheaded.” She’d be the talk of the town if she collapsed in broad daylight. Luckily, hardly anyone ventures up the hill.
“But hey, I can pretend I’m watching the clouds right now.” There aren’t any and nobody is insane enough to lie down on the grass when the gazebo is rightthere.
“Just don’t tell anyone about this, especially not the other Naotos.” Or Dad, but what are the odds of her running into him?
On a normal day, one so far from December, she wouldn’t have freaked out at all, and yet, here she was, called out by Michiru for displaying some visible sign of panic or anxiety Tsukasa wasn’t even aware of. Through a dumb technical thing, she is the youngest, having been thirteen during the Inaba case instead of sixteen.
Doesn’t mean people—alternates included—need to baby her.
“It’snothing to worry about, that’s what it is.” She forces a grin, placing a hand in her chin as she closes an eye in faux contemplation. “We never did decide on what we were doing today, Michi.”
