Oro Fantasma

"Well, what now?" I asked Tsukino beside me.

Inside the medieval town, we'd been left on a sidewalk after Cowboy departed. It was a setting where the peak of sundown had closed most shops and pubs. Pedestrians still wandered, though many were well-dressed like this was an affluent area.

"Hmmm . . ." Tsukino peered across the street where a baker began closing shop. "It's already late, so we should just locate an inn for tonight."

"Do you know your way around?"

"Yes, I've been here before. Follow me."

I tagged behind the trench coat girl. She walked with her hands in her pockets, and with a strut in each step—definitely an aura of confidence that conveyed familiarity with this city. We took shortcuts through alleys until arriving at a rundown part of town.

"Wait," I said. "Where are we?"

We turned a corner and came face-to-face with a ghost town. Tumbleweeds blew by, traveling along empty streets devoid of foot traffic. Even the ground itself seemed dry, while other buildings experienced untamed overgrowth.

I took another step forward to investigate a statue in the middle of the road. There were dozens actually, all depicting women with arms opened or reaching towards the sky. Quality varied; some had been brushed with an artist's touch, and others seemed like kids built mud sculptures.

"This is Oro Fantasma's historical district," Tsukino said. "Vehicles aren't allowed through here so they don't endanger all these statues."

"Why are there so many?" My hand brushed the face of a limestone woman. Cracks had wilted her beauty, though I could still see eyes chiseled with details.

Tsukino waltzed up to another sculpture made of clay. "Oro Fantasma has unique folklore: for centuries, villagers have been sculpting effigies of the Nameless Goddess. Though since no one knows her exact appearance, it's just a guessing game."

"Huh? But look at all these statues—they're completely wrong. She's supposed to be a little girl that wears ballerina clothes."

There was a pause while Tsukino gave me sterner eyes than normal. "The Goddess' appearance when someone reincarnates is dependent on the person she's judging. So what does that say about you, if you saw an underage ballerina?"

"H-How should I know?" I stammered. "Kids annoy the crap out of me!"

"Staaaaare. Well, her image varies anyway. The only thing that's constant is that she's a woman in all her incarnations."

Didn't know she was such a bigshot. As I gazed towards a stone block that vaguely resembled a girl, I wondered why Angel seemed melancholic right before she plunged me into this new world. If that brat has an entire universe worshiping her, what's there to be depressed about?

Our tour through slums continued. Wherever we went, effigies of the Goddess stood tall—or in shambles. Older statues would have her arms or head missing entirely. Depending on the material, she'd sometimes be nothing but rubble.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two kids trying to construct the shape of a woman. They tied sticks and twigs together, piecing together their own rendition of the Nameless Goddess bit by bit.

"Interesting," I told Tsukino as we walked by the house. "So people just build statues using whatever?"

"It's their culture, don't judge. The main reason they build effigies is because it's rumored the Goddess will turn to gold whatever statue most closely resembles her."

"So people have just been sculpting her? For centuries?"

"Obviously, either the legend is fake or no one's properly depicted her yet. But that's the only hope people here have for escaping poverty; so it's mostly the slums you'll see those figures in."

Tsukino's words rang true as we entered a packed town square—full of statues. Fog set in that masked overcrowdedness where even walking became difficult. Armies of clay, stone, and wooden sculptures rotting from age made it seem like we'd entered a graveyard.

"Careful," Tsukino said. "If you knock any down, that's considered bad luck."

"Got enough bad luck already." I maneuvered around each statue carefully, sometimes brushing against elbows or chests. I could get close enough to almost kiss their faces eroded off from years of wind and rain.

But every so often, I swore their heads would turn and watch me pass by.

Creepy place.

"By the way," Tsukino ahead of me said. "I'll say this now—we'll eventually be traveling through war-torn towns and ravaged cities. You'll need a strong stomach to ignore things, and even stronger willpower to resist interfering. This world is not a pretty one even during peace time."

"I'm not spooked by these sculptures, if that's what you're getting at."

"No. This is just your warning to remember that we're background characters. Nothing more."

"Fine. Mind if I ask an unrelated question then?"

"Talk."

But as we wandered outside the graveyard, I tapped Tsukino on her shoulder until she turned around.

Because I wanted to see her face.

"It's your turn now," I sternly said. "If the Nameless Goddess looks different for everyone that reincarnates, what was her appearance for you?"

I expected her to fluster under pressure even a little. But her gaze remained stone cold, colder than any statue here. She stared straight at me as if wondering why I even asked.

"Let's keep personal details confidential," she said, before walking ahead.

"Hey, that's not fair. I told you what the Goddess looked like for me."

"You disclosed that yourself."

"But still . . ."

Soon, we arrived at the doors of a run-down inn. Wood splintering from decay almost fell apart when Tsukino turned a doorknob to let us inside.

It was quiet and dark, as if the whole building was sleeping. Just a lopsided chandelier gave enough light to guide us through the front parlor.

"Couldn't have picked somewhere nicer?" I whispered, peering around at tables full of dirty plates. A stench hovered that smelled more like urine than rotten food.

"I'll explain later. Just follow along for now," Tsukino said.

Waiting for us behind a battered reception counter was an old man picking his nose. He wore a kitchen apron covered in stains, and had a gray beard still splattered with food.

"Whaddya need?" he grunted.

Tsukino gave a quick bow. "We'd like one room for the night; maybe several days."

"Howmanybedsandwhatsyourbusiness?"

"Two beds. Our business is private."

"Gromgromgromgrommumumum."

"Yes, we have money. It's not an issue."

"Gruntgrugrumumumumumumum."

"Thank you."

Huh? How can you even understand him? All I could do was observe while Tsukino pulled out a pouch of coins. She plucked two silver pieces—each engraved with church insignia—before laying them out on the counter.

It wasn't secret that my experience with this world's money was still shoddy. I'd only seen Sin Nombre's currency in passing, and had no clue how much cash I'd even be earning from this job. But seeing the innkeeper carefully appraise each coin in his fingers made me wonder how deep the system went.

"Thanksforyourpatronage." The innkeeper flung a key at Tsukino that she grabbed midair. "Yourroomisupstairs.Lastdoorontheleft."

It was a short ascent up creaky steps as we traveled towards the second floor. Dark corridors showed light underneath each door, and we'd often hear women moaning and the creaks of beds. But Tsukino ignored it all, while I stumbled over uneven floorboards.

"So why pick the crappiest inn possible?" I said. "Might as well sleep under a bridge."

"We're on a budget. Chief doesn't give us much for boarding unless you'd like to pay out of pocket."

"I'm surprised we get any budget at all."

"Wait until you see your paycheck."

We reached a slightly dislodged door at the end of our hall. Three glowflies crawling along the ceiling brightened just enough for Tsukino to slot in a key and turn the doorknob.

Dust floating in the bedroom greeted us as we stepped inside. There wasn't much to say: it was a ramshackle, decrepit lodging that provided bare minimum amenities. A window was half covered in cobwebs, and our beds had strange stains. Each nightstand had more dust than I thought possible. And a stink hovered around like rats were rotting somewhere.

"Not bad," Tsukino said. She lowered her backpack and yawned before sitting in a chair.

"Guessing you're used to these conditions?" I said.

"You're not in Japan anymore. Be happy I picked a place with plumbing."

"Oh, you've been here before then."

Her eyes avoided mine. "I came once with—someone. This inn is apparently popular for men to spend time with their mistresses; unrelated to me, of course."

"Seems covert enough for that, yeah." I could hear faint moans of multiple women through the walls. "A-Anyway, what's the plan for tomorrow?"

But Tsukino didn't reply. Her eyes were pensive, listless, as she gazed towards the window and let the last light of sunset slide off her.

"Tsukino?" I said.

"Oh, sorry. Yes. Tomorrow we'll be attending that orphanage ceremony Chief mentioned. It'll be open to the public, but we'll get special access since we're press."

"Quid pro quo for promotion. Nothing new even in this world."

"Get used to it. No free lunches."

Lunches . . . My stomach let out a groan as she finished her sentence.

"There's complimentary food downstairs," Tsukino sighed. "We paid extra for it."

"Not sure how much I'd trust—"

From inside my trenchcoat I felt a rustling sensation. Someone's little body climbed upwards until her whole body flew out.

"Did someone say food?" Pixie Trixie cheered. She buzzed towards Tsukino and perched on her shoulder. "Grapes! I'd love some grapes!"

"Glad you're awake," Tsukino smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah! But now my tummy is rumbly! And so is Aizawa's, hehe!"

Both girls looked at me with completely different expressions—one of giddyness and the other annoyance. Guess which one was which.

"I-I'll wait to eat," I said, itching my cheek, "if there's other things we gotta do first . . ."

Another sigh from Tsukino rang as she rolled her eyes. I couldn't tell exactly what went through her mind, but she hobbled out from her chair and grabbed her backpack, before bringing it over to the bed.

"There's food in here we can eat. Let's see what's inside." She began digging through the backpack, plucking out clothes and papers. "There should be grapes for Trixie."

"Oh! Yay! Grapes! I'll help if you need help."

While they both played around, I started taking off my trenchcoat. A blazer and white dress shirt underneath helped maintain the mobster style Borsalino was renowned for. Even civilians like Cowboy could recognize us. Though who knew how long that'd be convenient.

As I was loosening my tie, Tsukino by the bed pulled a bottle out from her backpack.

"Hmmm? What's this?"

"What's wha—" My eyes widened when I saw her peering into the small, glass bottle. Its familiar blue liquid with a slight glow to it was something I'd seen just this morning. "H-Hey! That's a Youth-Youth potion!"

"Youth-Youth potion?" She seemed skeptical until handing it over to Trixie. "I'm aware of them, but I've never seen one in person. I just know Chief has always been asking if I'd like one."

"Why would he do that?"

Tsukino finished dumping the contents of her backpack before replying. "There are certain organizations which dislike the Borsalino company. Chief's reasoning for me having a Youth-Youth potion was so I could become temporarily younger so less people would recognize me."

"For like, undercover work?"

"Yes. Though I suspect Chief snuck in this potion, since he's aware of my penchant for not rejecting gifts once they're in my possession."

"Makes sense." Maybe I should try giving her a wedding ring. For laughs, naturally.

Trixie buzzed back over and examined everything on the bed. "Did you find any grapes?"

"Unfortunately not. I'm sure Chief would allot some once you visit again."

"K'! I can't wait!"

And our day began winding down.

As rays of sunlight vanished and night arrived, glowflies on the ceiling started glowing amber-yellow. It was dim light, but enough for us all to comfortably eat dinner atop one of our beds.

"Nomnomnomnom . . ." Trixie nibbled on a speck of bread. She was sitting on a pillow while I finished chewing beef jerky strips.

"This stuff is pretty good," I said.

"It's just dried meat," Tsukino said, wiping her lips. "There's spices and better preservation methods here than actual Medieval Europe, so it tastes better."

"Maybe that 'gentrification' Chief mentioned isn't so bad."

"Depends who you ask."

When we all finished eating, Tsukino scooped food back into our backpacks. Even with her annoyed expression she seemed to enjoy cleaning. There wasn't much left for me to do except play around with Trixie.

"Teehee!" Trixie perched on my hand. "I'm not sleepy yet, but Tsukino is gonna wanna sleep early!"

"I'm leaving to take a bath actually," she said by the door. She'd removed her trench coat and now exposed a white dress shirt still tucked into trousers. "I'll be gone for thirty minutes or so."

"Want me tagging along?" I offered. She responded with a glare. "I-I mean like, I'll wait outside the door. In case there's any creeps."

Tsukino sighed. "This place is dodgy, but I can take care of myself."

"Suit yourself."

"Just get started sleeping," she said as she opened the door. "We're gonna have a big day tomorrow. I'll explain things then."

"For sure."

And with that, the door closed behind her. Our dimly-lit room became quiet apart from Trixie buzzing around me.

"Yippee, Aizawa! It's sleeping time!"

"I thought you said you weren't tired?"

"Yeah, but Tsukino will be angry if we stay up late, hehe."

Sounds about right. I started sliding my legs under the bedsheets. An odd smell puffed out that made me wanna sneeze, though I resisted. Not sure how much sleep I'll get here . . .

The glowflies above dimmed their light, as if aware we were trying to sleep. Some scuttled into holes while others swooped down onto cabinets to eat dust. This whole room was their all-you-can chew cafe.

"Where do you sleep anyway?" I turned towards Trixie who'd sat on my pillow.

"Hmmm . . . Tsukino usually makes me a nest from clothes. I guess she'll do that after showering."

"Well that's nice of her."

"Mm! I'd sleep with her on the bed, but she tosses around lots at night."

Heh. Imagining Tsukino snoring and tossing and turning cracked a smile on me. "It's already hard dealing with her awake. Can't say I envy dealing with her in bed."

But as our conversation continued, an interesting topic emerged.

"Morikawa was more fun," Trixie pouted. "He played with me way more than Tsukino would."

"Oh? What was he lik—" I stopped myself mid sentence, remembering my promise. "L-Let's just try sleeping now. It's getting late."

"Whaaaat? But I can talk lots about Morikawa! He's . . . Huh? It's kinda hard remembering stuff now that I think about it. I wonder why."

'It's kinda hard remembering stuff . . .'

'What is . . . My name?'

'WhatismynamewhatismynamewhatismynamewhydidIforget?'

The haunting parallels between Trixie and those kids at the hospital weren't lost on me. What occurred over there behind closed doors? And what did that priest with silver flames for hair have to do with it? It must've been something Tsukino approved though, or she'd never let it happen.

Whatever the case, I wasn't getting paid enough to think critically.

Zzzzz. Pretending to be asleep with one eye open.

But even as the bedroom's door opened and Tsukino crept in, I couldn't stop wondering just how much she knew?

She'd changed into a low-cut blouse that showed nice amounts of cleavage. Her long hair—still shimmering wet—glistened as she ran a towel through it. And I couldn't help noticing how much nicer she looked without glasses.

Trixie buzzed over then both girls exchanged some words too quiet for me to hear. They eventually settled into their own beds and let the night become silent.

There wasn't much for me to do now, except sleep and wait for dawn to crack.