CSC Volume 2 Ch. 10

*****

Hisao

*****

"Woohoo! Yeah! You did it! Woooo! Soushu! Soushu! Soushu!"

"Oh, will you shut up, Shikouyama?" Kawatori snapped.

With Shikouyama whooping in joy and triumph, I'm sure you can guess what happened. 

That's right. In the end, I lost.

I did the best I could in the battle with Soushu, but in the end I fell short by two points, 19 to 21. Still, I was really surprised that I managed to get some points at all, let alone reach neck and neck with Soushu. 

Ignoring Shikouyama's cheers, Soushu walked up to me as I sat on the floor, taking off my helmet. She held her hand out and said, "That was an impressive contest, Oota."

Even though I figured I would lose in the end, I was still a bit sour. But I took Soushu's hand anyway, shook it, and said, "Gee, thanks. But I was really surprised. I didn't know you knew kendo."

"I practiced a little when I was a kid," Soushu said. "In fact, Mirai, Omoyo, Isaneko and I were all part of the same dojo."

"Does everyone in this town know how to use a sword?" I asked.

I was being sarcastic, but Soushu replied, "Not everyone.  About 90% of the townspeople learned a fighting art, but just about 40 percent of those learned kendo. A few people learned karate. Some were taught aikido. And others mastered judo. The rest know Chinese wushu. Chinese wushu and kendo are about the most popular here."

I blinked.

"Okay," I said. "First, why do so many people here know how to fight like this is some kind of ninja village? And second, why's Chinese wushu so popular here, a small Japanese town?"

"I can answer that," said Mirai. "After our town was attacked a couple times like we learned in history class, a lot of grownups pushed to have their kids learn how to defend themselves in case it happened again. And according to my grandpa, the Shirogami Clan had someone they called a hero teach their members Chinese wushu, which later became a widespread fad. Thus was the start of our town's revolution to become the fighter capitol of the world! Now, when people see a Japanese fighter enter an MMA tournament arena, they just know that fighter came from this town."

Impressed, I said, "Wow! Is that true?"

"Oh yeah," said Mirai.

But Soushu cut in and snapped, "No, it's not! It's true that the townspeople were all scared another disaster like before might happen again, so decided to learn self-defense, and that someone connected to the Shirogami Clan made Chinese wushu popular here. But that part about this town becoming famous for producing MMA fighters is just nonsense!"

"But Naoko," said Shikouyama, "isn't your cousin fighting in an MMA tournament in America right now?"

For that, he earned himself a dirty look from Soushu.

After that bit of pointless chitchat, Mirai swore to Soushu as the great demon lord detective, that he would take her case and make sure the vile villain was brought to justice. And then everyone went their separate ways.

A few days after that, the Community Service Club came together at school for a meeting, but there was no news to share about the arsonist. Instead, we talked about our next club activity which, of course, would involve community service.

"Comrades!" Mirai shouted. He threw his cape over his shoulder and held his hand out while speaking in a deep, pretentious way. "I have summoned you to this round table for a very important discussion. The future of the kingdom depends on it, as does my title as Demon Lord!"

Mirai did his usual grandstanding with a couple of cups of childish delusions mixed in, but he basically announced that we were going to help with prep for the town's summer festival, which takes place on the road leading up to the local shrine. 

Festivals are fun, even to a semi shut-in like me. There are games and lots of good food during festivals. But there was just one problem: the shrine's owned by the Shirogami Clan. 

I never had a problem with it before, but after learning about the conspiracies surrounding them like overthrowing that nice granny who was in charge before and spreading rumors to get their rivals to take each other out, I was more than a little hesitant to take part. And I wasn't the only one.

Omoyo raised her hand and said, "Even if it's for an annual festival, is it really a good idea to help out the Shirogami Clan? I mean, we just heard that they're taking advantage of a horrible situation to spark a war to bump off political rivals. Why would you even reach out to them to volunteer our help?"

That was when Mirai dropped his joker act and answered seriously, "I didn't. That old man from the Shirogami Clan's the one who reached out to us. The sneaky weasel called the principal a couple of days ago asking if they could get us to help with festival prep, promising it would make the school look good."

"I see," said Isaneko. "I know the principal doesn't care about the whole Shirogami-Soushu-Yamimura power struggle, and that he's a good, honest educator at heart. But he's also the sort of guy who likes to brag. A lot. And us students of his helping out with festival prep will definitely give him something to brag about."

And then it was Yuna's turn to raise her hand. Through her phone, she said, "Please don't tell me the principal promised that we would help out without asking us first."

"Sorry, Yuna, but that is exactly what he did," said Mirai. "To make matters worse, news spread fast about the promise all over town. So even if we don't want to, we have to help out. If we don't, we're the ones who'll look bad."

I sighed. "So we got no choice. For some reason, it feels like I'm working a lot more this summer than I expected. Whatever happened to being free to relax however I wanted?"

"You're always welcome to skip out on it and let the rest of us handle all the work," Mirai said.

"And get an earful from my mom when she finds out? No thanks," I said and then let out a resigned sigh.

"But why does the Shirogami Clan want our help with the festival prep?" Omoyo asked. "What do they gain?"

"It's probably because the club's been getting pretty famous with all the volunteer work we do," said Isaneko. "A lot of people trust us now, so if they see us working for the Shirogami Clan, they'll think the Shirogami Clan's not so bad now."

"Don't you think that's a bit of a stretch?" I asked. "I know we do a lot of volunteer work, but to be famous for it . . ."

"Whatever the Shirogami Clan's goals are, it doesn't change that we have to help them," Mirai said. "But it's just our usual volunteer work, so don't worry about what shady business they could be up to."

And that's how, instead of lying on bed in my air-conditioned room going through a backlog of TV shows on my laptop, I was outside under the hot, hot sun moving boxes from Point A to Point B. And those boxes were heavy.

We first met up at the shrine bright and early in the morning right at the base of the stairs leading up to the actual shrine building where we were greeted by a deputy priest. Even from the top of the tall hill the shrine sat on, I could see colorful tents down below, beneath which various businesses set up their stalls. They were all lined up along both sides of a long strip of road that led to beneath the hill.

To my surprise, Soushu, Yamimura and their respective gangs were also there. Apparently, the principal not only asked the Community Service Club, but also the Student Council to volunteer work for the festival. Since it would boost her own family's name, she readily accepted.

As for Yamimura and his crew, when Omoyo asked what they were doing here, Yamimura gruffly asked back, "Do I need a reason to do volunteer work?"

Mirai cut in and said, "Nope. Not at all. The more hands on deck, the better."

The deputy priest gave us a rundown of what we were supposed to do, but I barely heard anything he said because of the tension between Soushu's group and Yamimura's weighing heavily over my shoulders. Shikouyama, especially, kept shooting blatantly dirty looks at Yamimura and his crew, which they returned with nasty looks of their own. I was right in the middle of it, afraid that a fight would break out around me.

Thankfully, it never came to that. And when the deputy priest finished with what he needed to say, we all went our separate ways. While following Mirai, I asked, "What are we going to do?"

"Weren't you listening?" said Akira. "The priest just told us that we're mainly running errands and moving stuff around."

Oh, I think I forgot to mention earlier, but Akira's with us too. When his grandma and grandpa heard that we were going to help set up the summer festival, they strongly insisted that Akira joined since he had nothing better to do. None of us had a problem with Akira joining and welcomed him aboard. It was actually fun talking to him while we moved boxes around together. Our talk was mostly about the mobile games we played, though.

But even fun conversations with friends was not enough to distract me from the sweltering heat as the blazing sun microwaved the road we worked on. Carrying heavy boxes around all day was bad enough, but the hot, hot air made me want to just put the box down already and sit this work out. 

I didn't, of course, for fear of getting yelled at. So, instead, I just groaned and complained in my mind.

"Ugh! So hot! My arms hurt. I'm so sweaty. My shirt's sticking to my back!"

I swear I've been getting way more exercise lately than I usually did.

"Want to take a break?" Akira asked.

"Wait," I said as I set a box down beneath the stove of a food stall. "Did I say all that out loud?"

Akira nodded to my horror and embarrassment.

"By the way," said Akira. "I've been meaning to ask, but do you only wear Aloha shirts outside of school?"

"Yeah," I said. "They're comfy. And they look nice. Office people even wear them as work clothes in Hawaii instead of neckties and stuff."

"Right," Akira said. "Where do you get all those Aloha shirts anyway?"

"The internet," I said. "They're cheap on the International Aloha Shirt Coalition website."

Akira looked at me dumbfounded while close by, people hammered into wood and shouted for help to each other. "There's an International Aloha Shirt Coalition?" he exclaimed.

I nodded and replied, "Sure there is. They have offices all over the world." I showed him my nembership badge. "I'm an agent of the Japanese Branch."

Raising an eyebrow, Akira said questioningly, "An agent? Not member, but agent?"

I nodded again. 

"How come-?"

Akira was going to ask another question, but then Mirai poked his head in and interrupted.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Our ever eccentric club leader spoke in a deepened, goofy voice. "I'm not paying you guys to just stand around flapping your lips. Get those feet moving, or it's ten more laps around the field!"

Akira frowned.

"Just what are you supposed to be?" he said. "A boss or a gym teacher?"

"I am both your boss and your gym teacher," Mirai said. "But jokes aside, it's looking more like me and the others are doing most of the work. I mean, just look at Lady Isaneko! She's carrying two boxes at once and not breaking a sweat. Doesn't that make you ashamed as men?"

He pointed out the tent towards the middle of the road where Isankeo could be seen holding a large, square box in each hand. The boxes were made of cardboard, but I could hear the rattling of steel cooking supplies inside them so I knew that they must have been very heavy. But I still frowned and looked at Isaneko doubtfully.

"Hey, wait a minute," I said. "She's just using her telekinesis to make the boxes lighter! Is it really okay for her to be using her powers out in the open like that?"

"Sure it is," Mirai said. "It's not like anyone would notice. But anyway, the point is you guys really need to pick up the pace. Especially you, Akira. You disappeared for about thirty minutes earlier. Where were you?"

"Sorry about that," Akira said. "I sneezed and suddenly went wolf. Unlike Isaneko's telekinesis, that's not something easy to hide."

Suddenly worried, I asked, "Did anyone see?"

But Akira shook his head and replied, "I don't think so. As soon as I saw fur covering my hands, I bolted to the forest. It's been happening a lot lately, but I never get used to it."

"You don't have control of your power?" asked Mirai.

"Only a little bit," Akira said. "I mean, I can transform whenever I want, but stopping the transformation from happening is a lot harder. Without meaning to, I would sometimes transform while I'm outside. I was lucky enough that no one ever saw, but it's always been bad for my heart. I've lost count how many times I've freaked out because that. That's why I try to stay in my room as much as I can. I've tried practicing to get better control over my power, but it looks like I've still got a long way to go."

"Are you okay now?" I asked, really concerned. "Do you want to maybe go home early?"

But Akira shook his head.

"I should be okay for now," he said. "It only ever happens once a day at most."

Suddenly, I heard gasping breaths coming up to us and turned around to see Omoyo running towards us, pink faced and drenched in sweat more than I was.

"Hey!" she called out to us. "Has anyone seen - ?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Mirai bolted. He ran out of the tent at top speed.

Dumbfounded, I just stood and watched. That was when Isaneko appeared.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "I just saw Mirai running towards the shrine like the devil was chasing him."

"I don't know," Omoyo said between gasps of air. "He ran out as soon as I came."

"And what did you come here for, Homura?" Isaneko asked. "And where's Yuna?"

"That's what I want to know," Omoyo said. "Did any of you see her? She suddenly disappeared on me."

Akira, Isaneko and I exchanged looks.

"I haven't seen her," I said.

"I was with Oota the whole time," Akira said.

Isaneko shrugged and shook her head.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she said. "Yuna might be in trouble. That's probably why Mirai ran off like that. He must have seen something with his psychic power."

But what? I wondered.

That was when Akira pointed towards the shrine crying out, "Look!"

We all turned around to see what he was pointing at, and I saw a sight that has become very familiar lately: a pillar of dark-gray smoke reaching out to the sky.

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CSC Volume 2 Ch. 9

"I can't believe I'm doing this AGAIN!" I grumbled to myself as I walked into the gymnasium fully geared for battle. Everyone else was already there waiting for me, including my opponent, Soushu.

Earlier . . .

"Wait, wait, wait," I had said. "First Yamimura, and now Soushu? What's with you making me fight all the time?"

"Yeah, Toshiro," said Omoyo. "That time with Yamimura, I can sort of understand. But this time's different! Why are you going out of your way to start another duel?"

"I would also like to know," said Soushu.

"The answer is quite simple," said Mirai. "I want to prove sincerity."

"To prove sincerity?" Soushu said. Her eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare.  

But Mirai didn't shrink from it and replied, "That's right. Both mine and Isaneko's families are neutral, and Omoyo's folks are Soushu-friendly, but the Community Service Club and the Student Council aren't exactly buddy-buddy, thanks, in part, to a certain vice-president and our association with Yamimura of Yamimura from Yamimura. You ask us to help you, but for all I know, you could just be using us for some secret plan to boost yourself."

Soushu flew out of her seat and shouted, "How dare you? I would never do such a thing!"

But Mirai coldly responded, "You're the daughter of a politician and whose own underling attacked a member of this club already. Just saying you wouldn't use us like tools isn't enough to make it believable. Besides, whatever we find out won't mean much to a group that already thinks we're up to no good in secret. WHICH, I might add, is why we were attacked in the first place.

"This fight won't just be proof of your sincerity to us. It'll also prove our sincerity to you. I mean what better way to bare one's heart and soul than through battle?"

We all looked at Mirai, and then I said, "Don't tell me you're making me fight because you believe that baring-hearts-through-fists crap from comic books. And if that's the case, shouldn't I be facing off against Shioyama?"

"That's Shikouyama," Soushu said.

"Soushu's the one asking for a favor," said Mirai. "Besides, I also wanted to see how you'd do against a trained genius and omni-kinetic like her, Oota. Show me how far your training's got you."

And then he leaned forward, his face turned grave.

"This town's not like it used to be," he said. "Lady Shirogami's been overthrown and the Piper's visit really shook up the town. Now we have an arsonist on the loose. There's no telling what sort of trouble we'll all get into next. One of us in this room might end up seriously hurt. It could be one of us who ends up in that river. You don't want that to happen, do you, Oota?"

Remembering the body we found floating in the river a few months back, I balled my fingers into a fist and gave my reply.

And that led to me putting on some kendo armor, picking up a bamboo sword and meeting the others in the gym where I was going to do battle with a girl who could do way more psychic stuff than I can. There were also two members of the student council in audience with the others, Eiji Shikouyama and Hana Kawatori.

As I entered the gym, I overheard Shikouyama say, "I still think-"

But Soushu cut him off and said, "Eiji, what did I say? No talking. At all."

I don't know what went on before I came here, but it looked like Soushu made Shikouyama promise not to cause any trouble.

I took my place on one side of the arena while Soushu stood on the other. It looked like we were going to have the entire gym for our fight.

Mirai stepped forward then, cleared his throat and spoke in a voice loud enough to cause an echo.

"I know you all have other things to do, so I'll make this simple," he said. "On one side, we have Hisao Oota, a psychokinetic. On the other, we have Naoko Soushu, an omni-kinetic. For this match, you can use your psychic powers however you want, EXCEPT to attack one another. The only things you should be hitting each other with are your swords. You can dish out however many hits you want, and take however many hits you want. The fight won't end until one of you gives up, is unable to fight, or time runs out. Hana Kawatori, here, will keep track of how many times each of you lands a hit, which will serve as your individual scores. Do you all understand?"

Soushu replied with a sharp and strong, "Yes!"

I responded with a soft and unenthusiastic, "Yeah."

"With us, we have Eiji Shikouyama and Aika Isaneko who'll help stop the match if things go too far."

Shikouyama made a two-finger hand gesture that read, "I'm watching you." He did that gesture directly at me while wearing a hateful scowl. The guy really had it out for me.

"Well, then," Mirai said. "On my mark."

He held his hand up high over his head and then swiftly brought it down.

"BEGIN!"

*****

Naoko

*****

I sprang into action as soon as Mirai said the word.

Truth be told, it wasn't just because I was desperate for help in catching the arsonist that I agreed to this ridiculous game. I was always curious about Oota's strength ever since I overheard a rumor that he had defeated Yamimura in battle. That curiosity only grew after I learned that he fought toe-to-toe with Shikouyama, whose family has always been combat-oriented. Yamimura's was too. 

No offense to Oota, but the guy's the very definition of an herbivore and sloth. This isn't because I'm biased against regular folks or because he's part of the Community Service Club under Mirai's control. It's basically what I've observed of him while I spied on the Community Service Club the last couple of months. And I'm a pretty good judge of character.

Anyway, as an omni-kinetic, I have control over many different kinds of powers. First, I threw my sword at Oota and made it fly on its own with telekinesis. Oota jumped away super far, given an extra boost from his psy-armor. And then he charged at me with all the signs of a low side slash. 

But before he could reach me, I erected a wall of psychic energy between us. He crashed face first and tumbled back. I swiftly conjured some water in my hand from the moisture in the air and threw it at his feet. Just as I planned, when his heel touched the wet floor, he slipped and fell onto his back. And that was when I attacked with my sword.

Using telekinesis, I made my sword fly to him while he was down and had it poke him in the face over and over again. One, two, three, four, five. My sword poked his helmet five times before he finally rolled off his back and returned to his feet. 

"Seriously?" I said. "Only a few seconds in, and I already scored so many points. Since I've seen you practice with the Kendo Club, I knew not to expect much of a challenge, but I'm still disappointed."

That said, I wasn't about to give him the chance to close the gap between us. I commanded my sword to fly again, but this time, Oota was on the defensive and created a bubble of psychic energy around him. The bubble deflected the incoming sword several inches away from his chest. But I wasn't deterred. Not in the least. I had a five-point lead and was determined to keep it that way.

As long as he couldn't attack, he couldn't score any points of his own. And as long as he stayed on the defensive, he couldn't attack. So, I had my flying sword attack him again and again, and again, and again. Anyone watching would quickly grow bored of the one-sided fight as I did.

But it wasn't as one-sided as I had thought, which I eventually found out a couple of minutes into our contest.

I started to get light-headed and my vision began to blur. And even though I hadn't moved a muscle for a while, I started going out of breath. My sword even started to slow down its attacks against Oota's barrier. That was when Oota decided to counterstrike.

He got rid of his shell of psychic energy and tried to jab me with his sword, but I ducked away just in time and fell to the floor. I used telekinesis to make my sword fly at Oota, but he swatted the sword aside before it reached his face and then slashed his sword down over my head. 

I rolled away, hearing Oota's sword slap against the floor, and got back up. Thanks to my lightheadedness, I nearly tangled my feet together, but managed to keep myself from falling down again. 

I made my sword fly back into my hand just as Oota started slashing at me again. Our swords sang a brief duet of clacks. Because I was tired and sore from exhaustion, I slipped up and lost a few points to Oota. I was still ahead of him by two, I broke apart from him and stepped away to give myself a brief respite.

As I tried to catch my breath, I thought to myself, wow. Oota was better than I thought. Because of how little he exercised, I was sure I had this contest in the bag. But it seems I underestimated him. He was really close to scoring some points because of how tired I made myself from that constant barrage of attacks I lashed out at him earlier. 

"I need to be more careful," I muttered to herself. I was five points ahead, but there was still a chance for him to catch up with all the time we had left, especially if I end up tiring myself out before Oota did.

Frankly, part of me thought that was what Mirai was aiming for. It was mighty fishy of him to make this contest an hour long. A rule like that made this game more like an endurance contest. Could it be that Oota's been built for endurance contests? Even though he doesn't exercise as much as I do, he had his psychic powers. That could be what's keeping him from tiring out. I should have realized it sooner.

But even though the rules were rigged in Oota's favor, I was pretty confident in my chances of winning. I decided to try and stand still, move as little as possible to save energy. Oota looked like the defensive type so maybe I'll even be able to rest a little.

However, Oota was more impatient than I thought, because the moment the idea to stay still crossed my mind, he attacked. He came at me so fast that I couldn't move away in time and had to defend. Our swords clashed many times after that. I earned a couple of more points, but so did Oota. Close to the end of the game, when I became more sluggish, he actually started catching up to a tie.

And then . . .

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CSC Volume 2: Ch. 8

It's been about a week since we encountered Azamume. Since that first meeting, I've been keeping a careful eye out for her whenever me and Yuna got out together. But so far, she had never made an appearance again. I started to wonder if maybe she gave up on stalking Yuna, but when I voiced my thoughts to the others during our latest club meeting, this was what Mirai, apprised to the stalker situation, had to say:

"Doubtful," he said. “Highly doubtful.” He stood with his back to us, staring out the window while swiveling a water bottle in his hand like it was a glass of wine. "The vengeful phantom still stalks our huntress, but has grown wise to the power of the great Iron wall General, Oota!"

Sometimes, it’s like he’s just pushing out these delusional acts any chance he got.

I turned to Isaneko for a translation.

“There’s a chance that that ghost girl, Azamume is still stalking Yuna,” she said. "Only she's being more careful about it now that she knows that her power doesn't work on you, Oota. Basically, she's likely using more normal stalker tactics to avoid being seen."

“Indeed, my strongest general,” Mirai said. “We must remain vigilant, for the phantom’s constant lingering shadow could spell doom to our journey for world conquest. The huntress is vital to our plans.”

At that point, even Isaneko was getting tired of the act.

“Toshiro, you’re being really annoying,” she said. “Quit spouting stupid nonsense out of that ugly mouth of yours and talk like a normal person.”

Her face was gentle-looking and her voice was soft and calm, but her words were harsh and she had a dangerous air around her shoulders that sent shivers down my spine.

Predictably, however, Mirai’s response was, “Ha! Ha! Ha! I refuse!”

He was undoubtedly a big idiot.

I didn’t need to have Omoyo’s powers to know how annoyed Isaneko must have felt, and it was scary to think what she would do next. Isaneko was one of those people you do not say no to if you knew what was good for you. But it looked like it was Mirai’s lucky day, because at that moment, there was a knock on the door.

"My!" exclaimed Mirai. "I wonder who that could be."

Isaneko shot Mirai a withering glare, but said nothing as he ordered me to open the door. He must have known that someone would be at the door to save him in the nick of time.

I obliged his request and went over to see who came to visit us, and was surprised to find the student council president standing outside our door.

"Shoyu? What are you doing here?"

Soushu's right eye twitched and she said, "Would it kill you to say my name right?"

There was nothing I could say, so I quietly stood aside to let her in.

"Oh ho?" went Mirai. "And to what does this great demon lord owe the pleasure of meeting the esteemed queen of the human kingdom face to face?"

Soushu scowled and said, "Please drop the act already. I'm tired enough as it is."

Resting his chin on his hands as he leaned over the table, Mirai responded, "I have no understanding to what you refer to as an act, but I can see that you're very tired. Could it be your kingdom has fallen in disarray?"

Soushu rubbed her temples and shook her head.

"I really don't have the time or energy to translate whatever babbling nonsense is coming out of your mouth, so please just speak normally already," she implored Mirai.

Mirai frowned.

And he said, "No biting retort today? Things really must be serious, then. What have you come to us for?"

Soushu looked around the room at all of us, and we all sat down in our chairs. Yuna pulled out an extra one for our guest. When we were all seated, Soushu began.

"Let me be blunt," she said. "I want you to find the arsonist."

I blinked. "You want us to find the arsonist? Why? Isn't that a job for the police?"

Soushu frowned and sighed. "It's obvious the arsonist is a power user," she said. "Except for a few cigarette butts from the first fire, nothing was ever found in the others. No gasoline. No oil. No matches. Nothing. And witnesses have said that the fires appeared out of nowhere right before their eyes. Do you really think the police can handle someone like that?"

"Don't they have their own psychics?" I asked. "Like in T.V. shows, there should be a secret department in the police force that specializes in that sort of stuff."

But Soushu said, "That might be true in the big city, but this is us psychics' territory. Even though normal people live here too, we're expected to police ourselves."

I looked at her and said, "Wait, what? I was just spitballing. There's actually a secret department in the police force that specializes in policing psychics?"

"There's been one since the 1950s," Soushu said. "Though they mostly work doing cover-ups."

Mostly to myself, I muttered, "My life's turning more and more like a comic book."

"But even if the police here can't help, this is still a problem for the grownups, don't you think?" Isaneko said. "I don't see why you would take the time to come ask us to look for someone as dangerous as an arsonist. And what makes you think we would even be able to find them? We're not exactly great detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Akechi Kogoro."

"But you guys have the next best thing," Soushu said, "a guy who can see into the future and use that power like his own personal spy cam."

We all looked at Mirai.

He blinked and said, "Wow, that sounds like a nifty power, but at the same time a little scary. There'd be no privacy with a guy like that around. Who could you be talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, you moron," Soushu said. "I want you to use your power of future sight to track down the arsonist."

"Well, I'm flattered that you think so highly of my powers, meager as they are," Mirai said. "But like Isaneko said, this is a problem for the grownups. Even though we have powers, we're still just high schoolers. And it's pretty dangerous for kids like us to go after an arsonist, especially one with superpowers."

"I'm not asking you to catch the guy," Soushu said. "I just want you to be on the lookout and if you find anyone suspicious to let me know."

"What about using your family's clairvoyants?" Mirai asked. "Surely they would have more luck finding the arsonist that I would."

"My dad's already got them on the lookout," Soushu said. "I just thought it wouldn't hurt to have more people with their eyes peeled."

"And why would you think that?" Isaneko asked. "Surely the daughter of the great Soushu family would think that their clairvoyants alone would be enough. It's like you're in a desperate rush to see this arsonist caught."

"Well, of course," said Soushu. "None of the groups gathered in this town have territories, but we do have areas where our supporters are more concentrated. Many of the fires were at places with or near Soushu family supporters. It'd look bad if we can't keep our supporters safe, right?"

"That's all the more reason you should not want to get outsiders like us involved," Isaneko said. "It would hurt the Soushu family's image if someone else found the arsonist before them."

"That'd still be a lot better than our image being torn apart by violent idiots who believed baseless rumors!" Soushu snapped.

Isaneko, Mirai, Omoyo, Yuna and myself exchanged looks.

"Rumors?" said Omoyo. 

"Yes! Rumors!" shouted Soushu. "Those damn rumors that the Shirogamis spread that the Yamimuras are the cause of the fires. Because of that, things are even worse now between the Soushus and the Yamimuras, and our supporters are up in arms against each other!"

Soushu had gone to the trouble to keep a cool image, but in an instant, her mask fell off and her true feelings spilled out. She had completely lost her cool.

"You sound like you don't believe those rumors yourself," Mirai said. "How come? Aren't the Yamimuras your sworn enemy?"

"I don't think highly of the Yamimuras since I'm a Soushu, but I can't see any reason why they would pull something like that off," Soushu said. "Unless some of them are even stupider than I thought, they must know that committing crimes like that would only make life here worse for themselves. Besides, there's no evidence that proves they're the culprits, which makes us Soushus attacking the Yamimuras all the more stupid. That's just grounds to make us out as bad guys taking advantage of a bad situation to bump off our rivals with false accusations."

"But what makes you think the Shirogamis spread the rumor?" Omoyo asked.

"Oh yeah," I said. "I think I heard you say something like that, Shoyu."

Soushu rolled her eyes and replied, "You're kidding right? Of course the Shirogamis are behind this. They're the only ones who'd benefit from a full blown war between the Soushus and the Yamimuras. At the very least, they're the only ones I know of who'd have something to gain from my family and the Yamimuras going at each other's throats."

"Have you tried telling everyone that?" I asked. "Maybe if you explained -"

Soushu cut me off and replied, "Even if I did, I don't think they would all believe me, or even listen to what I have to say. I might be the next head of the Soushu family, but right now I'm just a kid in high school. Besides, some of the people in my family are so biased against the Yamimuras that they don't care whether the rumors are true or not. And those people are dumb enough to jump on them regardless of what that'll mean to them and everyone else in the end!"

Her fingers balled into a fist and I half-expected her to hammer it against the table. But she restrained herself, took a deep breath and looked ahead at Mirai.

"The only way for this to end is to catch the arsonist," she said. "And that needs to happen fast. Things are already hot between the Soushus and the Yamimuras thanks to the Piper, and it's distracting our sensory-type psychics from doing their jobs right. I don't want to think about what would happen if we reach the breaking point. That's why I want you and your power, Mirai."

Mirai never took his eyes off Soushu's. And then, after a brief pause, he said, "Alright. I'll help you find the arsonist. But on one condition."

"A condition?" Soushu raised an eyebrow. "What condition?"

Mirai's lips spread into a wicked grin.

"Have a psychic kendo match with Oota."

I blinked.

"Wait, what?"

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CSC Volume 2: Ch. 7

“Yuna! Look out!” I cried out.

Yuna and Omoyo whirled around, surprised by my outburst. They were face to face with the ghost, but didn’t pay any attention to her even though she had a pair of scissors in her hand. The ghost was also startled by my shout and froze. I took that chance to pull out my bag of salt and ran towards the girls.

I stuffed my hand into the plastic sandwich bag, grasped a fistful of salt and then threw it over the ghost’s head.

“Evil spirit begone!” I shouted. “Evil spirit begone!”

“Eek!” shrieked the ghost. She held her hands up and shrank away from the flying salt. “Hey! Quit it!”

“Whoa!” Omoyo cried out. “Where’d she come from?”

Astonished, I said, “Omoyo, you can see her now!?”

Omoyo looked at me, puzzled. “Now? Wait, is this girl the ghost you were talking about?”

The ghost swore. She didn’t make any movements, but Omoyo suddenly cried out, “What the - !? She’s gone! She’s disappeared out of thin air!”

“No, she’s not!” I said. “She’s still here!”

The ghost cried out indignantly, “Wha-!? You can still see me? How!?”

“It’s easy, Miss Stalker Ghost!” I shouted, pointing my finger at her. “In addition to my Psy-Armor, I have the power to see ghosts! Now evil spirit, begone!”

I threw more salt at the ghost.

She shrank away, scowled and shouted, “I’m not a ghost, you idiot! So stop throwing that at me!”

I stopped.

“You’re not a ghost?” I said. 

The ghost took advantage of my pause to attack. She suddenly jumped up and drove her knee into my face. After that, she landed on the tip of her right toe, spun on it like a ballerina and then delivered a high kick to the side of my head. Startled, I stumbled.

Worried, Omoyo said, “Oota, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I replied. “Didn’t feel a thing.” 

Thanks to my Psy-Armor, I suffered no damage.

Surprised that I didn’t go down, the ghost jumped back and looked at me warily. She must have noticed the space around me rippling because her eyes lit up and she muttered, “I see. No wonder you can see me. You got psychic energy cloaked around you.”

“Psychic energy? You know about psychic powers?” I asked. “Does that mean you’re a psychic?”

“What’s that about a psychic?” Omoyo asked. “The ghost’s really a psychic?”

“Hmph!” the girl sniffed. She turned her nose up and looked down at us haughtily. “That’s right. I’m a psychic. My power is Perception Manipulation. With this power, I can make myself invisible to everyone around me.”

“Not everyone,” I pointed out. “I can see you.”

The girl shot me a fiery glare.

“Anyway,” I continued, “who are you? Why were you stalking Yuna? Did you put that picture in her shoe locker? And were you the one who set those fires?”

“I don’t need to answer a plebian like you,” she said. “But I can’t stand any false accusations, so I’ll go right ahead and tell you straight out that I have nothing to do with the fires that this town’s locals are making a stink over. I will admit to the picture though.”

“I knew you had something to do with that,” I said. “What were you planning to use those scissors for?”

“I was only going to cut a bit of her hair off,” she replied. “It’s just a small prank.”

I did not agree.

Angrily, I asked her, “Why would you do that? Both that picture and those scissors. Just what do you have against Yuna?”

“Just ask her,” the girl said, pointing at Yuna. “I won’t say any more than that.”

And then she turned to leave.

“H-hey, wait! We’re not done here!” I called out to her and moved to stop her from going, but Yuna grabbed my hand and shook her head. I could tell that she was telling me not to follow.

“Yuna,” I said. “But - !”

She held her phone up to show me what she had typed into it.

“People coming.”

She also showed the message to Omoyo, who said, “We should go.”

I glanced back but the ghost, I mean, the invisible girl was gone. Not very far away, I could hear footsteps rapidly approach. Reluctantly, I said, “Alright,” and left the area with Yuna and Omoyo.

We ended up going to Omoyo’s house and gathered in her living room. There was no one else around since her folks were in another city on business, so it was the perfect place to have a private chat about the ghost.

Like any other living room in the world, there are two sets of couches, some tall lamps, and a two speaker sound system that sat on either side of a large, flat screen TV. A painting of a boat hung on the wall next to that, and the floor was made of faux wood planks. Omoyo, Yuna and I sat in conference around a rectangle, glass coffee table, through which, underneath, we could all see some magazines and newspapers stacked beneath the TV remote. (Just thought I’d describe the room in more detail for those of you nosy ones curious about other people’s houses.)

Omoyo started the meeting with a cough.

“Ahem!” she said. “So, I tried calling Toshiro and Aika, but it seems like those two are busy. But they both said we should go ahead and clear things up before bringing them up to speed.”

She gave Yuna a quick glance before turning her gaze to me. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking.

“So, let’s start with you, Oota,” she continued. “We all saw the girl and heard a bit of your talk with her, so I already have an idea of what went down. But it’s better to take things from the top and get all the details just to be sure. The floor’s yours.”

“O-okay,” I said.

After taking a deep breath, I began to tell the girls everything. Since Omoyo wanted me to take things from the top, I started with when I first spotted the ghost at the cemetery when we went to pay respect to Yuna’s departed parents. I told them how I kept spotting her following us, and how I saw a picture of her in a newspaper article about one of the fires, which led me to think that she was behind them somehow.

“And since she was always looking at Yuna, you figured that Yuna might be her real target,” Omoyo said.

I nodded and said, “That’s right. So, I thought I’d try look for her and perform an exorcism.”

“That explains the table salt you were throwing everywhere,” Omoyo muttered.  “And then what happened?”

“Well, I saw the ghost walking up to Yuna with a pair of scissors,” I said. And then I told them what happened between us.

When I was done, Omoyo crossed her arms, leaned her back against the sofa’s base, and went, “Hmm. So her power’s Perception Manipulation. I’ve never heard of it, but it’d explain a bunch of things. The girl you thought was a ghost because no one could see her was actually a psychic who could make herself invisible to people. Going by the name of her power, I’m guessing the way it works is she sends some kind of brainwashing ray to everyone so they won’t notice her. But since you, Oota, always have your Pys-Armor on whenever you go out, the brainwashing ray never reached your head, so you could see her. Is that about right?”

I nodded.

“I really wish you spoke up more about the ghost, but let’s just move on,” Omoyo said. “Yuna, do you think you can tell us about the girl Oota thought was a ghost. It sounds like she’s someone with a grudge against you. She’s someone who can make herself invisible with Perception Manipulation, knows how to fight like a ninja, and I think she might have gone to the same middle school as you, guessing from the picture we found in your shoe locker.” 

Our eyes turned to Yuna who just quietly stared back at us with a face of stone. We waited with bated breath for her response. And then, after a couple of seconds of silence, Yuna lifted up her phone and began to type. When she was done, she hit the play button and the phone spoke.

“I only got a quick glance, but I think she might be Kyouko, Kyouko Azamume,” Yuna said. “We were classmates since elementary school and rivals, I think.”

Omoyo raised an eyebrow. “You think? You’re not sure?”

Yuna typed into her phone and it said, “My head was a mess for a couple of months, and it took me medicine to calm down. I’ve stopped taking those medicines a while ago, but my memories are still muddled right now.”

Neither Omoyo nor I said anything. Who could after a revelation like that? So we just sat in silence as Yuna’s words sank in. Finally, Omoyo spoke.

“Has there always been a bit of bad blood between you and . . . Azamume?” she asked.

Yuna shrugged and then shook her head.

“Well, she definitely has it in for you,” I said. “That picture and how she snuck up on you with a pair of scissors made it pretty obvious that she must hate you. Any idea why?”

Yuna typed into the phone and it said, “I remember that our families didn’t get along. I think that’s how this whole rivalry thing started. But I don’t think things were that bad between us before.”

“Maybe it’s something you did before the . . . you know?” I said.

Yuna looked at me and then cast her eyes downward while rubbing her chin thoughtfully. And then she shook her head. She apparently couldn’t think of anything.

Omoyo looked disappointed, but she said, “Well, don’t strain yourself. I’m sure we’ll figure something out eventually. And if we don’t, we can chalk it up to Azamume being an unreasonable jerk because of the thing between your families.”

But despite what Omoyo said, the worry lines on Yuna’s face did not disappear.

Later, on our way home, I asked Yuna, “Do you really think that Azamume’s just bullying you like that because of the thing between our families? In the first place, what did our family do to hers?”

Yuna looked at me and then shook her head before typing into her phone. The device read aloud, “I don’t know what went on between our families, but I don’t believe that’s the reason she did those things. Back during our middle school days, despite our rivalry, she was never that hostile towards me. But this time’s different. Omoyo didn’t say anything, but I’m sure she must have sensed the animosity in Kyouko. All I can really say is that it may be my fault she hates me now.”

I haven’t gotten to know Yuna all that well since she started living with me and my family, but from what little I did know about her, I was really doubtful she would do anything to make anyone hate her so much. To me, I thought that Omoyo hit the mark when she said that Azamume was just being an unreasonable jerk.

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Shelving

 Hey-o, everyone!

It's me, your favorite, humble storyteller. It's been a while since I've done a blog-blog, so I thought I'd share with you what's been going on behind the scenes.

First up, for a while now, I've been working on the next installment of the Paladin Academy Chronicles, but sad to say, it's not going too well. I've managed to complete a few chapters, but I've just been lagging lately. I think it's because I put the series off for too long. As a result, I've sort of lost where I was going with this. I still have a good picture of how the series as a whole would end, but getting to that goal has become incredibly difficult. Because of that, I've decided to shelve the series and just work on it whenever something finally comes to mind.

My main focus, instead, for the foreseeable future will be The Mysteries of the Community Service Club (CSC for short), which I've been presenting to you in this blog, and the World of Emeron, the world in which my Eternal Witch Saga originates. I've always wanted to expand a world beyond the original series for quite some time. Both the CSC series and Emeron are my chances to do just that.

The CSC series, in case you don't know, is basically a sequel to the Ben and Co. Novels, that I've been posting online for you all to read for free. The story takes place many, many years after the end of the final book. There are hints that give you a picture to how many years apart they are.

As for the World of Emeron, I got several side stories in mind that I've been itching to put into words, exploring the lives of characters after their time with Gwendolyn the Eternal Witch. This includes characters from our world, criminals from their world, and a whole slew of new characters, some of them borrowed from my past books set in other universes. There are still a few issues left unresolved from the Eternal Witch Saga that I want to properly solve.

As for the Paladin Academy Chronicles, I have no intention of abandoning the series. With how my writing's been going lately with this series, I can't say confidently how well it will go when I get back to it. But however flawed it was at the beginning (enough that I had to reboot, rewrite and republish the whole series), the world of Sarah Wu and her friends was my starting point as an independent writer. As such, I owe it to them to give their story a proper end, no matter how it turns out in the end. 

That is all I wanted to say.

Happy reading, everyone!

CSC Volume 2: Ch. 6

“If this is a joke, it’s a really sick one,” Omoyo said, glaring at the picture of Yuna, which was defaced with red marker to spell the word, “Curse”. “Who would do something like this?”

“We should take this to a teacher,” I said. “I’ll go look for one right now.”

I turned to leave, but before I could, Yuna caught hold of my sleeve and tugged it. When our eyes met, she shook her head and then typed into her phone.

“No, don’t,” she said. “It’s just a prank. There’s no need to get a teacher involved. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.”

“It seems a bit too mean-spirited to be just a prank,” Mirai said. “I think it would be better if we told a teacher about this.”

“That’s right, Yuna,” said Omoyo. “We don’t know what whoever put that picture in your locker is capable of. And how’d they even get a picture of you, anyway? Where was it taken?”

Minus the word “Curse”, one thing that stood out about the photo was that Yuna appeared really happy and cheerful. Her smile in it was definitely the biggest I had ever seen her make. Most of the smiles I’ve seen her make were all small and slightly strained. But there was one more thing that stood out and that was her clothes. She was wearing a school uniform, but not one that I recognized. Akira, however, appeared to have seen it though.

“Is that a middle school uniform?” he said as he looked over Yuna’s shoulder.

Yuna nodded and then hurriedly slipped on her outdoor shoes before rushing to the exit.

“Hold on, Yuna!” Omoyo called out. “I still think we should tell a teacher about this!”

But Yuna acted like she didn’t hear and stepped outside.

With no other choice, we all ran after her. Once we were out of the front gate, I turned on my Psy-Armor and happened to glance back at the school. That was when I spotted her again, the ghost from the cemetery. She was standing by the main building’s entrance, like always, staring at us.

As per Yuna’s request, I made no mention of the photo after getting back home. It seemed like she didn’t want to worry my parents. So over the dinner table, all we talked about with my parents were the things we did for club, like me helping the kendo club and meeting the grandson of the Sakamotos. Mom looked especially pleased while I talked about the kendo practice. She was always nagging at me to get more exercise.

Well, I say I talked, but only very briefly. I’m not usually the talkative sort. And that night, I was even less talkative because my mind kept wandering to thoughts about that ghost.

Ever since she showed up, strange things have been happening, like with those fires that’ve popped up around the neighborhood. It made me wonder if maybe she was behind them. I also suspected that she had something to do with that photo Yuna found in her shoe locker, because it can’t be a coincidence that she would show up at around the same time the photo did. And she always seemed to have her eyes on Yuna whenever she showed up. It looked as if she had some kind of grudge against my cousin or something.

“A grudge,” I muttered to myself while sitting on my bed with my computer on my lap. “Could that be what this is all about?”

I wondered if maybe the fires the last few days could be the ghost practicing for the real thing, which is a plot of revenge against Yuna. Maybe someone on her side of the family did something a long time ago that earned a grudge from an evil spirit, and that grudge fell on Yuna as the last surviving descendant or something.

Of course, I was just randomly guessing. There was no way for me to know for sure if that’s true without asking Yuna. Thinking about it as I randomly surfed the internet, there was actually a lot I didn’t know about her. That was made obvious when I saw that photo. 

Like I mentioned before, I had never seen her smile like that before, and it looked like she was surrounded by a lot of friends at the time the photo was taken. She must have been really popular back at her old school. I could only assume without confirming that whatever happened before she came to live with us really changed her a lot.

As I randomly clicked news links, I happened to come across an article about the latest fire, which happened outside of a public restroom in a park. I got a sore spot reading the article because I was at that park just a few days earlier with the rest of the Community Service Club, cleaning it. It made me a bit mad that all that hard work making the park clean and beautiful came to nothing thanks to that fire. Some of the grownup volunteers even went to the trouble of repainting painting that restroom building, which had become blackened by the inferno.

While scrolling through the page, I discovered a picture taken during the fire, and my breath was taken away the instant I saw it. Standing among the crowd of eyewitnesses watching the fire burn was the ghost.

That does it, I thought. The ghost really is behind those fires. And she’s sure to come after Yuna next. Before that could happen and our house get burned down as a result, I had to do something.

So I spent the next hour looking up how to exorcise ghosts. I was determined to get rid of it before it could strike again.

One of the things I found from my internet searching was that salt could be used to ward off evil. So, while everyone else was asleep, I snuck into the kitchen and filled a Ziploc bag with the stuff. It came from a jar so I was sure no one would notice some missing.

Typically, ghost hunting should take place at night time. But as my past experience has taught me, the particular ghost I was hunting was more of a daytime haunter. Thus, I decided to look for the ghost in the morning.

I filled a backpack with the salt I pilfered, a phone charger, and my wallet, grabbed my phone (fully charged) and took a long umbrella with me. The umbrella would serve as a substitute for my wood sword which I used to carry around with me but stopped when the Piper’s reign of terror came to an end. 

“Alright!” I said to myself after double-checking the contents of my bag. “All ready!”

After saying bye to my parents, I went out the door and began my patrol of the neighborhood. I probably sound like a little kid as delusional as Mirai with all that said, but whatever.

As I strolled down the maze of roads and white, graying walls of my neighborhood, I noticed there were a lot more people out than usual. Each street had at least one pair of people walking about. Some flashed friendly smiles as I passed by, others eyed me with unpleasant looks that I took as reflections of their wariness. It didn’t take a great detective to figure out what all these pairs were doing. They were likely volunteer patrols to stop the fires from happening or catch whoever’s making them.

I sighed, wondering if I should give up the hunt for the ghost. I know I hadn’t gotten very far in my search, but I had a sinking feeling that if I continued to just wander around, I could get mistaken for the arsonist. People have attacked me over misunderstandings before after all (*cough* Shikouyama *cough*).

After a bit of deliberating in my head, I decided to look through one more street before heading home. In that street, I encountered an elderly couple. No, not the Sakamotos. This is another elderly couple I regularly see during my weekend volunteering with the club. I forget what their names were, but the old man was tall and scrawny, and is usually wearing a sweater vest over his white dress shirt. His wife was a tiny bit shorter and dressed in a Hakama outfit like what the Kendo club people wear during practice. Now that I think about it, I think I heard that the old lady used to run a dojo which she handed over to her son after retiring.

“Good morning!” I said to them.

“Oh! Aloha Boy!” went the old man. “Ni hao!”

He started speaking in a string of Chinese-Cantonese, but as always, I needed his wife to translate. Another bit of trivia I learned about the couple was that even though the husband could understand Japanese just fine, it seemed something in his past affected his brain so when he was hit with old age, he could only speak Chinese.

“Out on a walk?” his wife asked.

“Uh . . . yeah,” I said. There was no way I could tell them that I was hunting for a ghost.

“Oh, well it’s good you’re living healthy,” the wife said. “But you should be careful. There’s rumors of an arsonist running around.”

At the mention of the arsonist, the husband scowled and grumbled something. I didn’t know Chinese, but I happened to catch the word “Piper”. With a stretch of the imagination, I guessed he must have said something like, “Honestly! First we had a serial killer like the Piper running around, now we got an arsonist burning up the neighborhood. Just what is the world coming to?”

I replied back, “Yeah, I heard. But shouldn’t you be careful too?”

The wife chuckled.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about us,” she said. “We’re stronger than we look. And you’d be surprised by the things we went through when we were your age.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Well, okay. See you later, then!”

I bid good-bye to the old couple and hurried away.

While lamenting the time I lost with this brief ghost hunt, which I could have spent grinding on a game’s seasonal event, I made my way back home. Unwilling to waste anymore, I brisk-walked when I stumbled upon Yuna and Omoyo together down the road. Figuring that they must have set up time to hang out by themselves, I decided to leave them alone when I noticed a third person following closely at their heels. 

It was the ghost. And in her hands was a pair of scissors.

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