No Teetotalers In the Fox Hole

Hideo was in a foul mood as Miho and he left Nise Kitai, stepping into a torrential downpour. His expression hadn’t budged an inch but he could feel Miho squeeze his hand a little tighter the moment the doors of Obata Plaza closed behind them.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. But he felt so heated from the meeting, like his blood was boiling to the point where he wondered if he would literally be steaming.

Hideo’s stewing was interrupted by his phone going off in his pocket. He saw he’d gotten a text from Hanzo, whose name was in Hideo’s phone with a bird emoji following it.

[Good for a round? Sayuri’s local this week.]

Miho smiled when Hideo showed her the text. “Bit early for a stiff drink... but I think we’ve earned it.”

----

Trends change. The Fox Hole never did.

The bar had been around for decades but Hideo and Miho had only started visiting when they started dating. Over the years, they’d shared many a fond night hanging out here with friends from the old days. There was nothing like a good drink to unwind from your regular life-or-death experience.

The warm lighting, the wooden bar, the collection of drinks stacked on shelves behind the bartender, all of it felt like they were back in the old days.

Speaking of the old days, two of their colleagues from those days were sitting at the far end of the bar. They waved Hideo and Miho over with a hand and a kind smile.

Sipping from a glass of red wine was a man about Hideo’s size, but with perfectly cut short brown hair and thick-rimmed silver glasses resting on his crooked nose. The man’s blue-collared shirt and black slacks clashed heavily with the bar’s more casual vibe.

Hanzo grinned. “Hideo!” He slid off his seat and whipped his arm around towards Hideo.

Hideo whipped his arm around in response, the two’s hands meeting in a loud clap as Hideo broke a smile for the first time all day. “Hanzo.”

“Come on. Bartender!” called Hanzo. “A pitcher of screwdriver for my friend. He always did like the fruity drinks.”

As Hideo was pulled to the bar, the woman who’d been sitting with Hanzo turned to Miho. Sayuri had been hunched over the bar, a hand tightly gripping a glass seemingly full of fizzing soda. Dark eyes lit up behind long bangs of black hair the second Miho come into view. She already had a glass of neat whiskey ready for her old friend.

“It’s been too long,” smiled Sayuri. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.”

The four quickly split into two different conversations, with Hideo entertaining Hanzo’s more animated line of discussion whilst Sayuri caught up with Miho.

Miho found her self recounting what had happened to Sayuri, blow by blow, while Sayuri kept quiet and listened. The two had been friends even before Miho had become a magical girl. Her adventures as Sweet Bear had pulled the two even closer.

No sooner than had Miho finished recounting what had happened with Nise Kitai than Sayuri finally chimed in. “You know what I think?”

Miho sighed. “Yes, but go ahead.”

“I think they’re sandbagging you,” Sayuri exclaimed. “They want to wear you down until you finally agree to let them do what they want.”

It wasn’t anything Miho hadn’t said before to Hideo. She’d seen more than her fair share of shitty pitches to pretend that this wasn’t what was happening. “I’m not letting them twist our work like that. Sweet Bear means something to people, damn it, and that’s something you can’t put a price tag on.”

Sayuri didn’t want to ask on the topic but Miho’s emphatic statement left her little option. “How much longer do you think you can hold out?”

Something would have to give. And Miho wasn’t a company that could print its own money. “You remember how I had the financial advisor invest the money we made on merchandising? I’m almost out. I don’t want to make Kumiko change schools, so I need to talk to Hideo about selling the house soon.”

Sayuri looked horrified. “Miho, I don’t want to suggest this but… you could pull back on your donations.”

“Never.” Miho swallowed so much whiskey at the suggestion that she made a face. “You’re barely keeping the lights on as it is. If I’m not backing you, who will?”

Sayuri stared into the bottom of her glass. They’d had conversations like this on and off for years. “…You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

“I know.”

It was something Miho had heard for years from all kinds and sorts. Sayuri had meant it a particular way, but by the time Miho understood what that was she knew it was something she could never give her friend. These days, it meant something just as strong.

Sayuri changed the subject. “It would mean a lot if you came to our meeting tomorrow. It’s a full room. It would help to hear your side.”

Miho wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure I wouldn’t trigger some bad memories? Especially if someone attending was one of mine?”

“One of yours asked for you by name,” stressed Sayuri. “They’ve been struggling for a while.”

It still seemed a bad idea to Miho. But if Sayuri could vouch for it... Miho funded this entire project for a reason. “Fine. But let’s be careful about it.”

At the other end of the bar, Hideo drank straight from the pitcher as he listened to Hanzo vent. In the middle of a rant about having to file weekly reports on a minor issue, he trailed off. Hanzo looked Hideo dead in the eye. “It’s getting worse.”

Hideo raised an eyebrow. “Nightmares?”

“No,” groaned Hanzo. “Can you not feel it?” When Hideo stared at him in confusion. Hanzo elaborated. “The desperation. The hopelessness. Kaijin chattering like they did in the old days, maybe not the same words but ones that rhyme. In the air, the energy around everyone, online…”

Hideo grumbled, swirling around a half-full pitcher of screwdriver around on the bar. “Jade Chrysanthemum is gone, Hanzo. The Perfected Emperor died at our hand. Or do you not remember the years we spent hunting down the remnants?”

Hanzo stared at the back of the bar. He looked to be struggling with what to say. “I want you to come in tomorrow. I know you’re not licensed anymore, but I’ll get you a day pass so you can see what I see.”

That stunned Hideo. “You’d go to that much trouble for this?”

“You were the Wolf Knight, and I’m still the Raven Scout.” Hanzo grinned. “It’s never a problem.”

It was something to consider. He looked across the bar to Miho, who smiled at him the moment she noticed. He’d never known the kind of peace she’d given him. And there was a part of him that feared it was fleeting, a dream he’d wake up from the moment he dipped his toes back into the old life.

His ears twitched as a more immediate problem presented itself. “I can’t, Hanzo. Miho just volunteered to show up at Sayuri’s support group. Which means I need to stay home for when Kimiko gets home from her field trip.”

Something about the words ‘field trip’ struck Hanzo silly. Far too silly for Hideo to understand why. “…Where?”

“The National Diet Building.” Hideo chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe the number of permission slips I had to sign for that…”

Hanzo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Kakurejin Academy. Kumiko goes to Kakurejin Academy…”

It wasn’t something Hideo brought up with Hanzo. Whenever he brought up Kumiko to him, it was more about her grades or her extracurriculars.

“Hideo. I’m asking you this not as a friend. Not as a professional. But as your partner. Swear it to me.” Hideo straightened up in his seat. Hanzo hadn’t spoken like this since the old days. “Swear it!”

“I swear it, to the day I die,” said Hideo.

Hanzo’s face moved in until it was almost nose to nose with Hideo. “I need you to go on that trip.”

Hideo blinked. He’d offered to chaperone on it a while ago, only to be told they already had everyone they needed.

“What are you expecting, Hanzo?”

“The worst, Hideo.”