Unconventional Hiring Mishap

It was evening when there was a knock at the door.

Braith almost ignored it. Only with Yumie clinging to his arm did he manage to summon the energy to cross the room. The lock clicked softly as he opened the door.

A short man stood outside, neatly dressed in a business suit.

Braith went instantly alert.

Yumie felt the tension ripple through him and quietly let the silk glove slip from her fingers.

The man smiled, oblivious - or pretending to be.

“Good evening, sir and madam. My name is Yasuta, and I have a proposition for you.”

His tone was that of a door-to-door salesman. Polite. Practiced. Wrong.

“I can offer you citizenship,” he continued, “and assistance with a wedding-”

Braith hissed.

“What are you?”

Yasuta blinked, momentarily startled, but the smile stayed.

“Let’s just say I have a keen interest in your abilities-”

“I’m not a weapon!” Yumie spat.

He frowned faintly.

“That isn’t important. What matters is what you, as a person, need.”

He raised a hand before they could speak.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t military work. No constant missions. We’d only require your abilities once a week. Occasionally, we’d also ask you to allow yourself to be observed for brief periods.”

Braith’s eyes narrowed.

“Observed how?”

Yasuta didn’t hesitate.

“There are people willing to pay extraordinary sums to see a real fox-girl. If you’re willing to be seen more often, we can ensure you never have to fight permanently.”

Braith felt the temptation flicker - then vanish. This wasn’t his choice.

Yumie hissed.

“You’re turning me into an object.”

“That’s what celebrities are,” Yasuta replied mildly. “Yet they’re still people, aren’t they?”

“I don’t believe you,” Yumie said sharply. “You’ll separate me from my husband.”

“He isn’t your husband yet,” Yasuta corrected, wagging a finger. “But yes, separation would be necessary. No longer than five minutes at a time. Our clients are very efficient, and given your… kemonomimi nature, the process would be quicker.”

The realization struck both of them at once.

“You’re planning to turn me into a prostitute!” Yumie shouted.

Yasuta tilted his head.

“Was that not obvious?”

Then he smiled wider - uglier.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t shut the door already. Now you understand. Wealth. Freedom. No fighting. That’s our offer.”

Yumie snarled as Braith felt his pulse hammer.

“Collector,” she said coldly. “Get out.”

The smile didn’t fade.

“So you know the term. I suppose that’s inevitable.”

Instead of leaving, Yasuta stepped forward.

Yumie’s arm snapped up in an instant, Braith bracing it, the command poised in his head. Still, Yasuta smiled.

“Oh, don’t be hasty. I’m merely making my position more… persuasive.”

Another step.

“And if you kill me,” he added calmly, “everyone will come for you. Not to mention-”

Yumie’s palm detonated into smoke.

The tank shell impacted off at point-blank range. The sound obliterated everything. The room shook. Their ears screamed.

Blood became mist.

When the ringing finally eased, there was nothing left of Yasuta.

Braith lowered his arm, breathing hard.

“Everyone already is after us, bastard.”

Silence followed.

Then his breath hitched.

Through the swirling smoke, shadows moved - fast. Seven of them. All closing in.

Yasuta hadn’t come alone.

He’d probably intended to ambush them the moment they stepped outside. Separate them. Contain them. Kidnap them.

Idiots.

Why rush a hostile living weapon?

Unless they thought Yasuta had caused the smoke.

Each of the approaching figures carried a Mahotona.

And they were almost on them.

In the millisecond Braith had, he caught glimpses of the Mahotonas rushing toward them - some kind of large cat, a platypus wearing what looked suspiciously like a hat, a small domestic cat, and others he didn’t have time to identify.

The smoke tore apart.

A fireball screamed through the room.

It missed - but only just. The heat scorched his face as it detonated against the wall behind them, the explosion cracking plaster and rattling the building. If that had hit either of them, there wouldn’t have been time to scream.

Shoot.

Yumie’s palm erupted again.

Smoke. Thunder. The sabot peeled away from the tungsten dart in close quarters, the fragments turning it into a brutal shotgun blast. Four figures vanished instantly - vaporized as the dart punched through them and kept going, barely slowed.

Pink mist clung to the walls. Flecked their skin.

Then something sharp came screaming back through the haze.

An icicle.

It punched clean through Braith’s shoulder and tore across Yumie’s neck.

Her scream came out as nothing but air - a hollow rush from a punctured throat.

Braith's mind worked instinctively.

Green wisps bloomed instantly, pouring from Yumie as healing magic snapped bones back together and sealed torn flesh in moments. The pain vanished almost as quickly as it had arrived.

And in that instant, Braith realized the weakness.

She could only do one magic thing at a time.

Luckily it was fast.

Two more silhouettes emerged in the thick smoke.

Shoot.

Another deafening blast. Another plume of smoke. Two more bodies ceased to exist.

The dart tore through the hotel floor, burst out into open air, and continued on - destined to claim at least one more life before finally burying itself in the earth.

The room was unrecognizable now. Visibility dropped to less than a meter. The air burned his lungs, reeking of scorched propellant and blood.

Six down.

One left.

Braith thought heal - and his hearing snapped back into place.

His shirt hung in tatters, soaked red where the icicle had struck. Yumie’s sweater was intact, but her neck had bled heavily for a moment, staining half of it a deep maroon.

Footsteps.

The smoke thinned.

The last attacker stood there.

A man - clothes torn, body battered - cradling a turtle Mahotona tightly against his chest. His movements were clumsy but deliberate, stance wide, braced for impact.

Braith thought, Shoot.

The dart tore through him.

And he kept walking.

Braith froze - then saw it.

Green wisps, constant and steady, enveloping both man and Mahotona.

A healing quirk.

Not just fast - continuous.

Fast enough to close wounds before a tungsten rod travelling at Mach four could finish the job.

Even Yumie couldn’t heal that quickly.

Another blast. Another hit.

Again the dart passed through - and again the wound sealed before the body could fail.

The man advanced.

Braith’s chest tightened.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

Every round was useless - each one a potential stray death as it left the building.

Then Braith saw it.

The man wasn’t attacking.

He couldn’t.

Healing demanded total focus.

Braith stopped firing.

Slowly, he eased his grip on Yumie’s arm - only then realizing how tightly he’d been holding her. He guided her closer.

The man froze.

Understanding dawned instantly.

He backed away - but healing constantly while staring down the seemingly harmless palm that had erased his team kept him from turning to run.

He was too slow.

Braith stepped in close, calm now, smiling faintly as he pressed Yumie’s palm against the turtle’s shell.

The man’s eyes pleaded.

Begged.

But this was someone who had come here to abduct her. To sell her. To rape her.

Braith felt nothing.

Neither did Yumie.

He gently pried the turtle from the man’s grasp.

Desperate, knowing he was out of options, the man made one last gamble.

He swung.

Braith was ready.

The man vanished in an eruption of pink mist.

Yumie kept her smoking palm raised until Braith carefully slid her glove back into place.

He smiled at her.

“We need to find a new place to live.”

She nodded - and latched onto his arm as they walked back toward the hotel room to collect what little they had left behind.

Green wisps drifted softly around them as they went.