Tipsy confessions

Dim blue lights vaguely lift the gloom of the cramped booth. The sofa sags under his weight, vinyl clinging to him like chewed gum. This was the closest soundproofed place they could find, but he's already regretting it.

Water and food arrive at the table, the next half hour reserved for silence.

But she can never stay still, can she?

"Wanna sing somethin'?" She leans toward him, and even from more than an arm's length away, the reek of alcohol hits his face.

"We're not here for that."

Grabbing the remote, he shuts off the screen.

"Worth a shot. So whatcha wanna do?"

"Clear your head. Get your thoughts in order. When you can form a full sentence without butchering words, we'll have a talk."

"You're… askin' somethin' kinda hard."

"Kinda hard for you to act like an adult? Listen. I don't care how much your parents spoiled you, I'm done with your bullshit."

With a sulk, Avery turns away.

"S-sorry. Don't… don't be mad, please."

"I'm trying. But if I have to give you a real reprimand, I will. And I don't care if you end up fearing me again."

"That's… not the same."

Her wandering eyes snap back to him. "I won't fear you, okay? Yeah, you gave me a big scare that day in that… spooky place, but I know you're not a bad guy. And I ain't a baby who'll piss herself over you shoutin'. I just… just wanna keep things happy."

"Now's not the time for happy. It's time to be serious for once in your life."

A shift of his body draws a groan from the sofa. "So stay quiet and take a few minutes before we get to the real talk. I don't want you forgetting everything by morning."

"But I… I really can't handle quiet right now. It makes me uncomfortable."

What the hell is going on in your head?

"Fine. You want noise? Then let's get to it."

After shoving the table aside, he drags a chair in front of her, and sits.

"Avery, you already knew my family's business wasn't rainbows and sunshine before you signed up on this. You still insisted on getting involved, even after I warned you."

Her head drops, but Atsunori doesn't let up. "At this point, you know too much about our inner workings and this investigation to just walk away. You have information that could be used against my family."

"But I'm not gonna tell anyone. And it's not like I'm leavin' you for good."

"If you're not helping with my work," his voice tightens, "I can't waste time on you. And what do you think that assassin will do if he finds out someone loaded with secrets is hopping from bar to bar getting drunk?"

"I'm not jus' drinkin' all day, y'know?" she murmurs. "B-but fine. You win, I won't leave the estate 'til you deal with the bad guy."

Silence stretches. Atsunori holds his response, then speaks in a low, deliberate tone, laced with venom.

"So after all your preaching about wanting to help… you're really going to drop out on a whim?"

The question catches her off guard.

"I-It's not a whim, okay? I just… c'mon, you can't expect me t' fight that guy."

"I never even implied you'd have to face him. Anyone would be terrified of a monster like that. But dropping all your responsibilities just because he frightened you…"

He leans forward, swallowing the urge to flinch at her odor.

"...is straight-up childish."

Avery's gaze darts everywhere but him. Her lips quiver as if forming words is a struggle.

"I didn't… I mean… it's… it's more than fear, okay?"

"What is it, then? People were murdered. You have the chance to help prevent deaths, yet now of all times, you've run out of altruism?"

"No, no!" She shakes her head, fingers tangling in her hair. "Tha's not it. Stop it!"

Her trembling pulls him back to the scumbag from earlier. A piece of shit he had to discipline with his coldest, harshest side. But… does she deserve the same treatment? Is he repeating old mistakes, confusing habits with discipline?

As Avery struggles to keep herself together, a memory surfaces—of a messy child who once came to him, desperate for support after a string of misfortunes. And Atsunori…

…

Now, watching Avery fight for air, that old mistake spikes through him like a warning.

"I'm… I'm really not doin' it on purpose. I do wanna help, I just… I just…"

Tears gather at the corners of the girl's eyes, and the words die in her throat.

It tightens his chest—but he must not let it get to him.

"You want to go back on your word? Fine. Go ahead. You're free from the investigation, do what you want. It's not my problem anymore."

"No, no, but you're right." The sleeve drags across her cheeks, smearing the wetness. "I'm the one skippin' out on my duties just 'cause I… 'cause I've got some dumb troubles…"

"You have no ties to the Munakata. That means you don't owe us. If anything…"

…

Stop sounding so harsh and just say it. "You've already done enough for us, alright? Especially with how you stood up to Reiji to protect Elder Yorinobu."

"But I wasn't trying to protect… I-I mean, yes, I did, but I mainly wanted to help you."

"The details don't matter. What I'm trying to say is… you're free to choose, and I won't scold you for it."

Atsunori stands, pulls the table back into place, and sits beside her on the couch.

Clearing his throat, he says, "You can rest for a little longer, but you must resume your training soon. That's non-negotiable. You need to learn to control your powers before they control you."

"I-I…" Sniffle after sniffle, wipe after wipe, the tears keep coming.

Still, under the whole mess, a small smile pushes through. "Kinda funny, actually. Been a long time since someone told me I can just… y'know… do what I want when I go back on my word."

A brief laugh spills from her. "Usually they try t' push me into makin' good on my promises… which is fair, I know, but that's also when I…"

Avery doesn't finish her sentence.

"You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to."

"Yeah, well… right now I do wanna say at least this much." She shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable—or steady.

"I've left behin' so many things. Places, projects, acquaintances, friends… even lovers. And it always… always happens the same way. I get overwhelmed, people start pressurin' me to keep goin', to push through it… and that's when I quit for good."

"I have no right to force you into anything. For better or worse, you're not part of my family. You're outside my authority."

"Heh… which I guess is why I actually wanna try committing for once." A tipsy shrug rolls off her shoulders. "Well, it's also 'cause of the cool powers and what Blake showed—"

Her eyes darken. She jerks her head side-to-side, shaking something off.

"What I'm tryin' t' say is… now that I have the freedom t' say no, I kinda wanna help you again."

A long, weary exhale escapes him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Yeah… sorry for spinning my wheels so much. But I wanna see this through. To at least finish one of the million things I've started in my life. So… please, give me 'nother chance."

"Sure, whatever, and you can quit tomorrow if it suits you."

"I mean it, okay? I really really wanna commit t' something for once."

"I'm serious too. At this point I'll just treat you as an unreliable source of tips. Sometimes you help, sometimes you don't."

Atsunori leans back, the sofa thudding against the wall. "I won't expect anything from you, but also won't scold you when you don't deliver. I think that's the only way this partnership can last."

"Well… fine, I guess that works. So all's good now, right?"

"You could say that."

"Nice… heh, heh." Avery slumps down, relaxing a little too much. "Hey, since we're here, how 'bout we… y'know, sing a few songs?"

"No."

"Eeeh? Come on. Don't you think it's a waste?"

"The real waste is me not going back to work right this instant. I already lost a whole week in the hospital."

"Wait… wait, wait." She straightens. "You're tellin' me you just woke up and went straight back to work?"

"How about we focus on something that actually matters. For example, where did you get a firearm?"

"Gah… that's a dirty way t' change the topic, y'know?"

It is, but Atsunori keeps his stare locked on her, waiting in silence until she cracks.

"I mean, it's not even a convol'ted story," she mutters. "I got it from the same store I bought my spray and my taser… then with some money and some more money, got 'em through the airport and… pleas'don'tellt'cops."

"Rest assured. I just needed to know whether you got it from one of our fighters or if it was your own. Besides, if I wanted to turn you in for weapon possession, I would've done so for the spray and taser already."

"Ah… right. Those're also illegal in Japan."

"I said I don't expect you to face the assassin, but since you ran out of bullets, I can make some calls and get you a replacement. Just in case"

"I appreciate it, but no thanks. I really hated usin' it, and it barely did anythin' anyway. The bad guy only retreated cus he was already at red HP."

Red what?

"Also," she adds, "it seems I can do much more if I learn to use my powers instead, since Yokai are stronger than guns."

"Don't get overconfident. Kitsune aren't exactly known for their durability."

Though regular Tengu are also not supposed to eat a whole magazine and still keep moving.

"So even if I transform I can't tank bullets?"

Tank?

"You'll handle them better than a human, but it's safer to rely on your nimbleness and illusions. Kitsune aren't as fast as Tengu, but their movements are harder to follow, and they've got some of the highest magical reserves among Yokai."

"Uh-huh. So I'm a mage class and that's why my physical boosts ain't that high."

"I have no idea what that means, but as long as you understand the point, fine."

"See? Tha's why you should take a break. Play some games, get a hobby, live a little."

"Give up. It's not happening."

"Not even to go see the kids? They've gotta be super worried about you after what happen'd."

… That's a fair point.

"I'll stop by tomorrow for a few minutes."

"Nu-uh. They deserve a real play session. Spend the whole mornin' with then. And since we're here, start your break now. You already paid for the room, and I can invite a few people so it's not—"

"Stop making plans for me when I didn't even agree to the first thing."

"Come ooon."

And now she's pouting. How many mood swings can she cycle through when she's drunk?

Her concession comes quick. "Fine. I'm… willing t' give you a trade offer, okay?"

"I don't care."

Wobbling to her feet, she jams a finger at him—or at least tries to.

"If you agree on a twenty-fo'r-hour break startin' now, I'll… uh… I'll resume my trainin' soon as we're done."

Maybe he does care…