6 - Elf-San Can't [Return] So I'll Stuff Her In A Pocket Dimension

Yep. It was definitely her.
The one that talked like a call-center master and looked like the heroine of an eroge game.

Hair like moonlight. Eyes like some celestial prophecy.
And a vocabulary straight from a wiki article on divine bloodlines.

Based on this, I quickly concluded that the situation sucked.

And to prove my point—
She opened her mouth.
No doubt to begin telling me about my destiny, her kingdom, and how we must defeat the shadows of the past with the sword of eternal sunrise or some garbage like that.

I had one chance.

“Aiko!” I snapped. “Is that Ernald Swartz!?”

Her head turned instantly, eyes sparkling like the world’s smallest action-hero radar.

“Where!?”

So cute.
So easy to distract.
So blessedly vulnerable to terrible puns.
And so terribly in love with T2.

As her attention swung away, I turned back to the elf.

She was halfway through a dramatic inhale.
A speech was forming behind her teeth—likely involving ancient runes, soulbound legacies, and how my eyes reminded her of the lost prince of Lunathal.

I had to stop her. Now.

She had to be silenced. With tape, if possible.

Instead, I did the next best thing.
I cleared my throat.

Mao had told me a phrase.
Just one.
A single word in his impossible tongue—something to say if I ever desperately, irrevocably, cosmically needed him.

This was the time.

I spoke it.

𐌷𐌴𐌻𐌿𐍀
“Help.”

With not so much as time to collect another thought, a towering crimson hand reached out of an inter-dimensional portal that would have sworn it had always been behind her.

"Hero—"

Her mouth—covered.
Her body—yanked back.
The portal—vanished.

All in under a second.

No one saw a thing.

Thank you, Mao.
God, I love that guy.

I felt the stare of bloodlust on me and gulped.

“Shuuuuuuu-san.~” Aiko snapped. “Why did you take advantage of my love for 90s Hollywood actors just now?”

This is bad. Aiko only added honorifics to my name when she intended to kill.

“Oh, it wasn’t him? My bad. Maybe I wa—”

THWAK.
Another smack from her bag.

“I’m not an idiot! You are clearly trying to distract me from that incredibly beautiful foreigner kid!”
She blinked.
“Huh. Where’d she go?”

I made it home in record time.
Opened the door. Stepped inside. Took a breath.
And promptly lost my mind.

Because there, trembling in the middle of my living room, was Elf-san.

Wrapped in a blanket. Clutching the edges like she expected to be sacrificed.
And standing over her, calm as the eye of an apocalypse, was Mao.

Crimson skin. Seven feet tall.
A literal demon lord holding a porcelain teapot like it was made of beautiful dreams.

“YOU BROUGHT HER TO MY APARTMENT?!”

Mao blinked, as if surprised I hadn’t already deduced the most logical course of action.

𐍆𐌰𐌲𐌰𐌼𐌰𐌹𐍃𐌷 𐌱𐌴𐌹𐍂𐌿𐌲𐌰𐌻 𐌼𐌴𐌿𐍄𐌴𐍄𐌹𐌱
“She appeared distressed, Shuu-dono. I couldn’t just leave her there crying.”

The air filled with burning glyphs that shimmered and danced across the walls like cursed wallpaper.
Mao gestured politely to the steaming cup in his hand, offering it to her.

𐍄𐌰𐌴𐌷𐌰𐍂𐍉𐌻 𐍃𐌹𐌲𐍉𐍂𐌴𐌹𐌽 𐌿𐍀𐌰𐌻𐌰𐌷𐌾𐌹
“This blend promotes tranquility. Please accept.”

Elf-san whimpered. Pulled the blanket higher.
To her, Mao might as well have been whispering infernal war crimes in cursive.
Violent cursive.

I massaged my temples.

“Right. Okay. Communication breakdown. Demon roommate trying to help. Elven refugee spiraling. All normal. Everything’s fine.”

Just as I was calming the storm—

Knock-knock-knock.
Three precise taps. Familiar. Too familiar.

I opened the door a crack.

“Aiko.”

She blinked at me.
Then her eyes slid past my shoulder.

“Oh look! It’s the incredibly beautiful foreigner kid!”

She was consistently specific when it came to elves it seemed.

She waved.
Elf-san ducked behind the couch like a hunted deer.

Mao was gone. Of course. Just gone.
Vanished like smoke. That guy is a menace.

I stepped into the hallway and began gently pushing Aiko back toward the stairwell.

“Yeah! Family from overseas. Long story. Haha. Cultural exchange.”

Her brow furrowed.

“She has pointed ears and I think she’s glowing.”

I slammed the door behind me with a strained smile.

“Yeah, half Russian. Too close to Chernobyl. You know how it is. Tragic. Gotta go! Bye!”

Click.
Silence.

Then, behind me:

𐌱𐌰𐍀𐌰𐍄𐌰𐌲𐌿𐌻 𐍂𐌰𐌹𐍃𐍄𐍉𐌹𐌷
“The tea is ready.”

Somehow, I found myself sitting on the couch.
Relaxed. Tea in hand.
The perfect temperature.
Wow—what a great smell. And the amount of sugar was just right. And this lemon flavor? I gotta—

Wait. What?

"Elf-san," I said, ready to ask her to leave.
Or go home.
Or back to the police.
Or any combination of those, really.

But she beat me to it.

“I’ve told you six times now—my name is Elurena!
Elurena Dragonsgift! Of the Twelve Kingdoms of—”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know.” I took another sip.
“I need you to leave. Now preferably.”

𐌹𐍃𐌴𐌻 𐌳𐌴𐌽𐌲𐌰𐍂 𐌴𐌻𐌿𐍂𐌴𐌽𐌰𐍃𐌿𐌽𐌳𐍉?
“Is everything alright, Elurena-dono?”

She balked.

“H-Hero!
To join forces with a demon of such... such power?! It’s unthinkable!
Now I see why you dropped me off with those strange city guardsmen!
I must free you from the control of this monster!”

I glared at her. Just a little.

“Hey! Mao has feelings too! You can’t just call him that!”

𐌹𐍃𐌴𐌻 𐍃𐌷𐌿𐌿𐍉𐍃𐌰𐌿𐌻 𐌰𐌻𐌴𐌹𐍃𐌷𐌾𐌰 𐌿𐌱𐌰𐌹𐍂𐌴𐌹𐌽 𐌷𐌰𐌹𐍂𐌿𐍄𐍂𐌴𐌻 𐍀𐍂𐌰𐌲𐌰𐍄𐍉𐌻𐌹𐍃
“It is alright, Shuu-dono. I know how I must appear to such a fragile little thing.”

𐍃𐌿𐍃𐌲𐍉𐍂𐌴𐌹𐌽 𐌿𐍂𐍄𐌿𐌻𐌿𐍃 𐍂𐌰𐌹𐌷𐌰𐍂𐍄𐌹𐌽 𐌼𐌴𐌹𐌷𐍉𐌻𐍄 𐌼𐌴𐍄𐌴𐌻𐌴𐌹𐍃
“I hope she can forgive me.”

Elurena just stared.

Mao, meanwhile, poured another perfect cup of tea like he wasn’t the subject of a holy crusade thirty seconds ago.

“I-if the hero says so!” she stammered. “Then... then I shall obey! But what is this—this concoction? Some kind of demon ritual?! A potion of binding? Memory-alteration?!”

I sipped mine.
“Earl Grey, actually. I’d recommend lemon.”

Then I pointed directly at the door.
“Get out.”

She frowned. Incredibly powerfully.
Like she’d been practicing it in a mirror for dramatic effect.

“What have I done? I came here seeking aid. Why do you hate me so?”

Hate was a little strong.

“I don’t hate you,” I said. “I’m just not interested.
I’m not a hero. Or a lord. I’m just a writer.”

She sulked. It was disturbingly effective.

“Ah… You said as much.”
She paused, fidgeting with her blanket.
“Alas, I don’t exactly have a way… to get home. And I sort of told the city guardsman—”

“Police.”

“—Told the ‘police’ that I am your kin, so they said I must live here until I ‘turn 18.’
Even though I’m over 200.”

She blinked. Dead serious.

“How strange…”

She looked up at me. Square in the eyes.
Serious. Hopeful. Doomed.

“If you could assist me—just until I can find a way to get home—I wi—”

I cut her off with one of Aiko’s signature forehead pokes of rage.
Well, more like twelve of them. Rapid fire.

“You—told—the—cops—we’re—family?!”

I felt my brain immolate.

“Why, Elf-san? Why have you done this to me?”

I staggered back. Emotionally concussed.

Maybe I could introduce her to Truck-kun.
Help her get back the old-fashioned way.

Eh. Too bad I’m not evil.

I sighed.

“I can’t. Having you here would create all kinds of misunderstandings.
Even just having you here now is already— You see that girl I just kicked out?”

I pointed vaguely toward the door like love lived across the faded wood.

“I’m in love with her! You idiot! I can’t have you here.”

She frowned again. But this time, she didn’t argue.

“I... I see.”

Low blow, man.

I clicked my tongue, turning to the only creature in the room with a working brain.

“Tch. Mao. Can you help her somehow?”

He shook his head solemnly.

𐌻𐌴𐌷𐌾𐌰 𐌽𐌴𐍂𐍄𐌰𐌹𐍂𐍃𐌿𐌽 𐌳𐌹𐌼𐌴𐌽𐍂𐌰𐍄𐌿𐍂 𐌲𐍂𐌰𐌲𐌻𐍉𐍂 𐍃𐌿𐌽𐌽𐌰𐍃 𐌴𐌻𐌿𐌳𐌴𐍂
“Even I cannot instantly locate her world from the vast ether of the greater spheres.”

“Right. Uh... Can you do anything? Like, at all, for her?”

He nodded once.

𐌰𐌹𐌱𐌰𐍄 𐌸𐌹𐍂𐌰𐍃 𐌳𐌹𐌼𐌴𐌽𐍂𐌰𐍄𐌿𐍂 𐌳𐌰𐌹𐌻 𐌼𐌰𐌹𐌿𐍃𐌳𐌴 𐌿𐍂𐌲𐌰𐌽𐌸𐌰 𐌼𐌴 𐍃𐌰𐌿𐌼𐌴𐌽
“She can stay in the dimension I use when you need me to vanish.”

...That makes me sound kind of mean, doesn’t it?

My bad, Mao.

“Can you make it... like... not... demon-y?”

Another firm nod.

𐌲𐌰𐌻𐌴𐌻𐌴𐌹𐍃 𐌽𐌰𐌼 𐌼𐌴𐌻𐌾𐌿𐍂𐌽𐌴 𐌳𐌿𐌻𐌾𐌴 𐌷𐌰𐌿𐍂𐌸𐍄𐌹𐍃 𐌾𐌰𐌹𐍃 𐌷𐌴𐌻𐌹𐍃𐌾𐌴𐌹𐍃
“I can read her memories and make it accommodating.”

I looked back at Elurena to pass along the good news.

She was already halfway retreating into the couch cushions, wide-eyed and white-knuckled.

Mao took one step forward, reaching out gently.
Elurena’s entire body locked up.

“Mao’s gonna help you out,” I said.

Which, apparently, she interpreted as:

“The red demon is going to debone you.”

She fainted.

Right into the teacup.

I stared.
My fingers began incessantly rubbing at my temples.

“Mao. Could you... handle this?”

𐌷𐌰𐌹𐍂𐌿𐍄𐍂𐌰𐌿 𐍃𐌷𐌿𐌿𐍉𐍃𐌰𐌿𐌻
“Of course, Shuu-dono.”

And as if to rub salt in the open wound of my sanity—

A blue span of lightning cracked across my living room.
Another inter-dimensional portal ripped into existence like a drunken god had stubbed his toe on causality.

“No...”
A pale hand reached through.

“No no no—”

Then she stepped out.

Tall.
Hair red like fire.
Face like an angel.
Boobs as big as an influencer's ego.

At least she was fully dressed. Small blessings.

“No! No why?! Why now?!”

“Hero, I’ve come to— Ah! A monster! Hero, we must—”

“Shut up! Mao is an awesome dude!”

I dropped onto the floor.
Still holding my tea.
So good.
So lemony.

God, I hate reverse Isekai.