The Sorest Pain

"So…" Noir asked as they strolled through the bright streets, "...about that first bit of magic you figured out?"

"Yeah…" Wendy said, almost despondently, "I didn't really want to talk about it. Besides, I explained it already. I hate when I'm almost commanded to do something."

"Hate it enough to generate a super-sonic scream like that?"

"I guess so…I thought of it clearly—there were several times I would have loved to react to my fiancé like that. It felt like there wasn't a moment he didn't have this mean glare in his eyes—and god forbid my tastes are against going out for the sixth night in a row, or refusing to eat something I didn't want to, or planning out my own life in my own way…Like I didn't deserve it. People like that are the biggest wastes of space."

"I'm surprised you didn't resort to more…extreme measures. But, it does support what you said earlier: I can't imagine that our stories could be much more different than they are. Wendy, tell me something: does the pathos 'system' or whatever have a great amount of specificity?"

"What do you mean?"

"It could just be that our pathos are so similar because it isn't that precise. Does that seem feasible?"

"Not really. You can see them yourself now—a single pathos can be configured hundreds of thousands of different ways. Also, the 'system or whatever' has to be just as intricate as human suffering to match it. Like, just take a second glance at the people passing by and you'll see what I'm talking about."

Noir, too busy looking upwards at the skylit colors, failed to even notice that there were passersby in the cloudy streets. There weren't hundreds or even dozens—but there were enough so that he could start to build a profile of the people he would expect to see. People of all colors and sizes walked the streets, as though all of the ethnicities and ages that he would expect to see on Earth could peacefully congregate in one place. Moreover, many of them, he noticed, after a second glance, did not appear as human. One girl, about three-fifths his size, had what seemed to be the ears of a cat.

"You're…right," he commented, "Is that one wearing a headband or…?"

"It's rude to stare! Especially when you're the one that's sharply out of fashion!"

"Fair enough…but now that you mention it…this pathos thing is so overwhelming! I don't think there's even a color missing—or even a shade, for that matter. No wonder you felt the need to kidnap me."

"Kidnap…is, um, a loaded term. I saw a chance and took it."

"Sure. And robbers are just using their resources."

"Ugh, don't put me in with them."

"Get a different moral compass then. And it was like that for me too: everyone in the other world thought I was a creepy killer who was just prowling around at night—not a lost kid in need of any help. People are selfish."

"I'm sorry, Noir. I really can't say that's a pain I've felt, being misjudged like that."

"And that's my point! If this thing is so precise, how can our pathos really be the same? We have a lot of pains in common, but there are several we don't."

"What if…it's too specific?"

"What does that even mean?"

"I'm…not sure. But think about it, maybe you'll come to something."

Wendy added that last part facetiously—as if she knew the answer but wouldn't say. It made Noir let out a scoff, one that almost sounded disrespectful. It also effectively short-circuited that conversation and made them change the topic.

"Y'know…" Noir started and spontaneously became ecstatic, "I didn't think I could take someone like that with just my hands! I mean, I've been in a fight once—apart from the thing with Hiro, obviously, but I've never been against anyone with a weapon—and won! Remember when you saved my life and you were all like 'You should be on your knees before me,' (he added that part mockingly) well…guess what, I just saved your life as well—in an equally flashy and challenging way, so yeah. Consider it the law of equivalent exchange, Wendy."

"You answered earlier that you would, if not for time and place?"

"Well…yeah."

"Same here. But I think this is a good time and place."
Wendy fell to the ground at the corner of a building.

"Whuh…I didn't mean it like—"

"Relax, I'm joking. My legs are really tired…these boots are seriously killing me."

"Is the teasing really necessary?" Noir asked as he sat next to her.

"Do you like it?"

"Not really. We have more pressing concerns."

"What if we didn't?"

"It's just…I'd rather be the one…"
Noir paused. He wasn't trying to stop himself outright from finishing his sentence—he was just fearful of how it would land. Wendy waved her hand out, prompting him to continue.

"I'd rather be the one on the ground in front of you…"

"Oh, you're one of those boys, huh?"

"I mean…I'm not sure—it changes all the time. Like, it'd make me happy in the moment but really upset later…that someone would treat me like that."

"Okay. So which is it? Do you like being obedient and stuff like that or do you not?"

"I just answered—sure, it's thrilling in the moment but it tends to hurt me a lot later."

"Why don't we test that? If I told you to—"

"No—shut up!"

"Sheesh, okay, okay. God—to be twenty again. You think of physical intimacy as the most sacred thing, like it can't even be talked about. Then you have just a drop of it and you're like 'Oh, that's actually not that special—but I still won't talk about it!' It's really not a big deal, Noir."

"I'm…not twenty."

"Oh, right—because you lied to me at the bar. To be nineteen again."

"Whuh—how'd you know?!"

"Because it's what you do. It's what we do. We're liars. Y'know, the day the building collapsed and I lost my fiance, I just happened to have invited my mom and sister over? So because of my selfishness, they lost their lives too? That's the price of being a pathological liar—that's what I've had to live with since that day…I think my fiance deserved it, but two people close to me died because I was selfish enough to have the nerve to say goodbye one last time."

"Wendy…I…"

"Don't you want to get away from that life? That's where you'll end up if you keep responding aggressively to the smallest things!"

Here Wendy and Noir were both silent. Noir spoke it quietly through a cracking voice:

"Wendy…I agree. I…I can't explain it but…there's something in my conscience that makes me act as I do. I always thought that one day…I would be able to word it correctly—but I can't yet. I'm sorry. You can ask what you were going to ask."

"No, Noir…I'm sorry. It…wasn't right of me to put all of that on you. I just…also feel a lot of things and it makes me act and say stupid things. I…don't know if that makes sense either…Let's just move on from that, 'mkay?"

"What were you going to ask?"

"It would be distasteful to ask it now. Some other time, I will, I promise."

It did not matter to Noir so much that he had to know now, so he let it go. He instead pointed to something on the other end of the building that they were sitting next to.

"Hey, that looks like a tavern over there. It's very classy, but maybe we can go there?"

"It can't hurt. Unless the people in there want us dead too."

They stood up and walked over.

Noir gripped the handle of the tavern. But, before he opened it, he heard shouting from the inside—shouting, however, of a good kind. It sounded ecstatic rather than violent. This, therefore, did not completely preclude him from opening the door. He instead practiced some caution and peered inside. He couldn't decipher what he was feeling as a result.

"Inspector! It is a glorious day! I've heard whispers from Cyprium that Matthias and his men were raided! I've implored him three times already to verify the validity of his claims—he even said that Alphaeus was killed in combat…by unarmed humans! Hahaha! wheeze…wheeze…such a scourge plucked so delicately out of the skies! They spoke it in parable: 'History sideth with the winners,' I paraphrase somewhat—so it is a most laughable conjecture, these people who erase history think they will win! 'He who removeth mountains removeth also valleys and plains'—history also teaches! He mentioned too in his briefing—Cyprium did—that Alphaeus seemed to think those humans were not of this world…if that were true, my theory would hold more water. But I'm skeptical of that…skepticism is a hallmark of intellect!—it would almost be like things move too fast if that were so! I've wondered that myself…things don't really feel the need to fossilize before they are to be recorded, history will sit in empty tomes all the same…ah! But I'm blabbering again—I'll just run through everything again back at the post! 'Mkay, sweet-cheeks? See you! Voice Log #4317!"

A young man slightly shorter than Noir shouted all of this at the bar. He was alone—entirely—the tavern was completely empty. Noir assumed that the keeper left as a result of this man's reckless shouting. He was clearly intoxicated beyond measure—shouting, slurring his words, and flailing his body about without concern for anything else. But he was very clearly happy. What was more, Noir noticed, this man had a tail and ears that were decidedly those of a fox. They fit him well: the fluff appeared enticing while also contrasting his otherwise rough complexion. And, should anything have played out differently—if he were upset or slightly angry or confused—Noir would have shut the door and pretended he saw nothing. Instead, he opened it fully and waltzed in.

"NOIR!" Wendy whisper-shouted, "This can't be a good idea!"

Noir ignored her and nonchalantly sat next to him. And though Noir certainly had more questions than he did, the foxly-man was the one to talk first:

"Hey! A marvelous head of hair you have there—and a striking body 'neath that hoodie! I might fall for you if you play your cards right."

"Thanks, and…you have a way with words…and actions."

"I…" the foxly-man interrupted him, "...have a plethora of ways before me. The way clears out for me! What does it do for you?"

"It's been manageable so far. It brought me to you."

"Oh, you! Not so fast!"

"It taught me also about Matthias and his men."

"Oh, you heard me? Well, never the matter…you don't know Matthias…"

"I do. I slayed him."

"You…you did? No, I've got to be delusional again. Wake up, Syme…wake up!"

The drunken, foxly-man started slapping himself before Noir grabbed him.

"You're not delusional. Look at my pathos."

"It…is dark gray…then that would mean!"

"Yes…it would mean that. (Whatever you were about to say.)"

He grabbed a bottle and held it in his face as though to protect himself. Noir asked him:

"What are you doing?"

"Are you here to hurt me?" he asked beggingly and almost with puppy-dog eyes.

"No…?" Noir said in a confused tone.

"Ah! Oui, fantastique, mon ami—onwards, vamos! Talk to me!"

"Didn't you hear what your friend said? I'm human."

"Ah! But of course! Wait, what?"

"I just need your help figuring things out around here."

"Well, why didn't you say so at the start? I guess the humans are the dumb ones now, au contraire—mon cher—sit and have a bottle!"

"Wait, can my friend come too?"

"They helped you slay Alphaeus? Yes, yes! They shall be key to the whole truth!"

Noir gestured to Wendy to come in, who hesitantly obliged.

"Of course, sit! Though, I need a moment to breathe…I'm not quite in my senses."

Noir gestured at him with an open hand, so as to say "Take all the time you need."