Support

The Kaijin Support Group. A mutual-aid organization, dedicated to providing support for members of the supernatural community across Japan. Whether they were traditional mythological creatures like vampires or werewolves, more esoteric kaijin, or even those who’d had experiences with the same, the Kaijin Support Group did not discriminate.

The only barrier for entry was a desire to help or to be helped.

As Sayuri led the meeting, Miho looked around the room. Most of the people in attendance had a similar kind of story – they had been depressed, or anxious, or obsessed, and that warped them into something inhuman. It was a story Miho knew all too well.

It was how the kaijin Sweet Bear had fought were formed. She had been a light against the darkness of a yokai who fed off the despair of the masses. Zetsuboru.

“I’d like to introduce someone.” Sayuri put her hand on Miho’s shoulder. “This is my best friend, Miho. We’ve been friends since elementary. And I think this could be good for her just as much as it is you all.”

Miho gulped, looking around the room. Come to think of it, these weren’t just the stories she knew. They were stories she’d lived. At least half the room had been victims of Zetsuboru in some form, whether tormented by one of its kaijin or forcibly transformed into one by it.

“H-Hello,” she stuttered. “My name is Yasuda Miho. And until ten years ago, I was Magical Girl Sweet Bear.”

Ryoma was clearly too young to understand what she’d said, but most of the circle wasn’t. A rumbling of murmurs echoed throughout the room.

“Her?!” “Now that you mention it…” “I thought that was just a cartoon!” “Oh my god…”

Miho tried to smile. “Now I understand why Sayuri invited me here today. I didn’t realize she kept in contact with you all.”

An older man stood up – one that Miho recognized as being an anthropomorphized sack of money when they’d fought. “This place has… it’s been wonderful. I felt like I was alone until I came here.”

A rail of a woman across the circle stood. “You’ve been wonderful. But where have you been?”

“Raising a child,” explained Miho. “I wanted to be there for her and I was scared that if I kept going I wouldn’t be.”

Sayuri interrupted. “She married Wolf Knight.”

There was a scattered amount of applause. Whether they knew of her husband from the TV show or they were remnants from his own exploits, Miho wasn’t sure.

The thin woman asked, “Are you coming back?”

The question lingered in the air. It was one Miho had not considered for years, had never let herself consider. She pulled at her sleeves, revealing a set of dull jade bands around her wrists. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. When I retired to be a mother… well, I blew up more than a few buildings when I was Sweet Bear. That gets you put on some watchlists. So now I have to wear these.”

A few in the circle looked at the bands in abject horror. Ryoma looked at them, not understanding what the big deal was. “What is it?”

“Anti-magic suppressors,” lamented Sayuri. “They tamp down on a person’s natural ability to use magic. They’re normally reserved for serious offenders. But if you’re able to sling around enough magical power…”

Miho didn’t need to listen to Sayuri’s explanation. It was like living without a small part of yourself. A sentence she was willing to endure for Kumiko’s sake.

The door to the hall squeaked open and closed again, with an elderly woman shuffling in. She took three steps in before freezing at the sight of Miho.

Sayuri froze herself before catching herself. “I was hoping you’d make it today. Miho, I’d like for you to meet the person who asked for you.”

Miho smiled. “Good morning, miss. I’m –”

“Sweet Bear.” The woman smiled. “I don’t think you’d recognize me. Time hasn’t been kind in multiple ways of the word. But where are my manners?” She bowed as low as she could. “My name is Fuzukawa Chika. But I think you might recognize me looking a bit different.”

Miho would have. Chika had been possessed by Zetsuboru when she’d fought it.

---

Kakurejin Academy did not have buses. Most students used the train, though a few walked or were driven.

That made it a minor spectacle when the class of 2-B was escorted out of the school and told to board the bus. A few of the students were excited; they’d never gotten on a bus before. As the teacher boarded to calm the class down and the other members of the Ogawa security detail joined him, Hideo and Fuku shared a knowing glance.

This was a terrible idea.

Hideo would have taken the subway if he’d been in charge. He didn’t like risking Tokyo traffic with a group this large. The bus was filled to the brim with security guards and the teacher and the driver, meaning that Hideo and Fuku… would have to follow in Hideo’s van.

Hideo could hear Kumiko stop before she got on the bus. “Dad?”

“Just nervous,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you, ok?”

----

He would have preferred being on that overcrowded bus than share space with Fuku. But he had to make the best of it. Fuku looked to be on the same wavelength, not happy with the present company or the lump in his seat.

“How’s… the family?” he asked.

Fuku pursed his lips. “On vacation. Shanghai. I’ll be joining them after this.”

Hideo’s fingers tapped the steering wheel. They’d never been great at conversation. But at least Hideo had an excuse. Fuku was just an asshole for the pettiest reason possible.

He saw Fuku staring at his wedding ring, pointedly looking away once he knew he’d been caught.

“This thing was old when you bought it,” Fuku hissed. “I know you can afford a better car than this. Feel like I’m going to get tetanus just looking at it.”

“I don’t want a better car, I want this one.” Hideo told him.

“My ass is going to be lopsided by the time we get there.”

Hideo was getting annoyed and not just at Fuku. Traffic was snarled up and they were at the mercy of whichever green light the bus could get through. “I’ve got a lot of good memories with this thing.”

Fuku rolled his eyes. “What memory could be so important that you’d drive something that bleeds money?”

Hideo was about to tell him exactly what he’d done for the first time in this car and with who. But instead he held up a finger. He could hear something revving as they entered an intersection the bus was stuck blocking, and no brakes –

“Defensive spell.”

Fuku stopped. “What?”

“Put a defensive spell up. NOW.” Hideo was gripping the wheel with white knuckles, starting to turn to look to his left.

A big American pickup truck was barreling towards them. With barely a second to spare, Fuku pulled out a wand and jabbed the glove box.

The pickup slammed into the van, caving it in and sending it tumbling in a mess of crumpled steel and shattered glass. All were kept at bay by an orange field surrounding the two men and their seats – even the air bags. Even the momentum seemed dulled by the magic; the two had not a scratch on them despite the front of the car now being stuck in the side of a truck trailer.

The two men looked at each other for a moment before starting to kick at their doors to force their way out. A sickening feeling hit Hideo as he feared the worst.

His fears were made manifest when he saw a dozen men in black and purple pulling the door to the class’s bus.

Hideo was growling loud enough for Fuku to hear over the car alarms and horns. Jade Chrysanthemum was here.