Chapter 1.5

I still have much to learn about how my Charming Form operates.

So, ater a restful sleep, I decide to take the opportunity to test the limits of Alice on my environment, to gain a better grasp of her strengths and weaknesses.

My observations are, as follows:

I can make huge leaps over tall buildings.

I can achieve far greater running speeds, without breaking a sweat.

However, I CAN'T punch through walls, or lift cars, or really do anything impressive that's strength-based, compared to my regular physical body.

Using my data, I can decide which Charming "type" fits Alice the most.

For, you see, Charming Forms are seperated into three classifications, based on whatever enhancements rhat they provide to the wielder.

They are: Power, System and Speed.

Two of these are self-explanatory. Such as, a power class pertaining to super strength or defenses. Speed governs running, hyper-perception, acrobatic powers, flight and swimming and the like.

System class, on the other hand...is a bit more complicated. It includes powers that allow the wielder to manipulate elements of nature; for example: fire, water, ice, plant, spacial manipulation...the list goes on. It's the most variable of all the classes, and I've heard requires the most training to fully master.

Hmm. It's pretty obvious that Alice fits squarely into the Speed class, with no observable Power class traits. System profiency would require future testing.

So, for now...I'll label Alice a Speed class.

I return to the department store, once content with my findings, to discover Dusk standing in the central area, where one can look up and see the railed balconies of the higher floors, all connected by escalators, beneath a shattered glass dome ceiling.

She's gazing into a fountain filled with murky water, seemingly lost in thought, when I quietly creep up behind her.

"Oh!" She turns, looking up--toward my normal height, but then quickly adjusts to match Alice's significantly shorter stature. "Sorry." She says, giving a nervous laugh. "This is going to take some getting used to..."

"We were both too exhausted after the fight to talk." I say to her, as I "dispel" Alice to return to my normal self.

She smiles. "You were really incredible."

Heh. I can't remember the last time I recieved any praise, so I'm probably blushing. Last night was mostly a blur to me now, but I could never forget that sweet, sweet taste of victory, after I dealt the final blow.

Still, an insecure part of me has to ask...

"Is it really okay, though? Wouldn't you say it's bizarre for a guy to transform into a little girl?"

"I don't know." She says, with a glazed stare. It seems a lot has changed in the world, since the collapse, so who am I to judge what's normal?" She giggles. "At least it does explain all the unaccompanied minors I see padsing through town now and again."

"Yeah. I'm like the only person in my school that doesn't use my Charming Form constantly. It's become a sort of fashion trend across the Districts, so everyone does it."

"So, it's fashionable...to be a little girl?" She asks warily.

"Mhm. Disturbing, I know."

"Wouldn't that get confusing? How would you know who you're talking to?"

"Well, everyone's Charming Form is distinct."

"Do even older folks use--"

"Everyone." I repeat. "It's actually a way for an older person, or someone with a terminal illness, to avoid death. Since the Charming Forms are ageless, and immune to disease, you're practically immortal. The only drawback is that you're unable to procreate."

Dusk rises suddenly, staring wide-eyed at me.

"Did you just casually tell me that humanity has found a cure to all disease, and even death itself?"

I nod. "Pretty much. If you have no morals."

"Where do morals fit into all this?"

I stand, drawing my hood and looking away.

"Ah, never mind. Ultimately, it's a good thing if there's less suffering in the world."

With my back turned to her, she says--in a quiet, concerned voice, "hey...are you going to be alright?" I look at her, and she continues: "When we first met, I remember you were so distraught, but...you're better now, right?"

After a while, I nod, putting on a smile. "Yeah."

"Irorishiro Academy is the name of your school, right?"

"You remembered?"

"Mhm." She lowers her head shyly.

"I was thinking I'd like you to show me."

Agreeing, we take to the stairs to reach the rooftop, so we can look out across the entirety of the mass of withered steel known as Old Tokyo.

It's so windy, you can hear it howl.

Dark clouds are brewing in the distance.

Being immersed in nature, even to just this small degree, is something you don't experience at all in the Districts.

"That's it there." I say, pointing, after searching until I found it--a large castle built in the traditional Japanese style, sticking out like a sore thumb among its modern, urban contemporaries: consisted of multiple, tiled-roof structures housed within towering, white stone walls. All of it is perched upon a steep, stone-paved mound, encircled by a deep blue moat only made passable by drawbridge.

Irorishiro Academy: My school. My home. The rotten, moldy core of my existence, for the past two years.

"A school, in the old castle?" She asks.

"It's not too small?"

"Yeah. It's a lot bigger on the inside."

I hear a loud boom of thunder, miles away--a storm was surely approaching.

I feel Dusk's hand, brushing against my arm.

"Will you be...going back?

...

A week passes, and I still haven't "gone back" to Irorishiro Academy.

I've taken up a new life in Old Tokyo, staying in a small apartment just off Steakhouse's main street. I'm working as a ranch hand, for a friend of Dusk's--the same one she helps move cattle for in exchange for meal pills, sometimes. It's hardwork, but it feels rewarding, and the other guys I'm working with are pretty funny.

Dusk and I are becoming "close," too.

We meet up after work, almost every day, and spend hours at the saloon or just "moseying" through town, with some friends. That, or it's a nice, quiet evening with just the two of us, watching the sun set from a rooftop, then gazing up at the stars until we fall asleep next to each other.

Every day, is like a new adventure.

An adventure...I'm hoping the two of us will share even more closely, for many years to come--when I finally muster enough courage to confess my true feelings.

The truth, being...I've fallen in love with Dusk.

I love her cool, tough attitude, with a secret soft side. I love the way she laughs, her face lighting up like she's just heard the single funniest joke that's ever been told--every goddamn time. I love how she smells in the mornings when we share a quick "howdy," before heading off to work--a product of the cup of vanilla coffee and homemade berry jam on toast she has for breakfast every morning.

I haven't experienced emotions like this since before the collapse. It's been a nonstop rush for survival, with little opportunities to stop and smell the roses, to really get to intimately know others.

Something only made worse by the growing prevalence of Charm Rings, I think.

It's early evening and she's finally convinced me to join her at the saloon, where we sit next to each other at the bar. The bartender--a mustachioed man with the hulking body of a sumo wrestler--comes and asks what we'll be having, naming off a list of all the boozes for sale.

"Whiskey." Dusk answers, with a playful trill. "The usual."

"I'll just have a Bepsi, if you've got any."

He looks at me funny, but complies; a frothy full glass of warm soda, with a straw, is then planted in my hand as Dusk watches, looking like she's trying not to laugh.

"What? I'm just surprised there's even still soda at all, after an apocalypse."

She chuckles. "What apocalypse? Mankind's just getting started! We've got...Meal Pills, rings that turn people into little girls, and we've got, uhh..."

I raise my glass. "Simulation rooms!"

"Yes! Right! Whatever the heck that even is!"

It's early, but the place is already bustling; the people of Steakhouse, after a long day's work, like to drop by the watering hole for a spell, to play a few rounds of dominoes, or try their hand at cards. And, though these games can get fairly heated, it's never to the point of violence.

We're all neighbors at the end of the day, after all, and it's all rather cozy, and quaint. I've grown to really appreciate the simple charms of Steakhouse, and its rough-and-tumble citizens.

However, it is also a fact that in Steakhouse, a ruckus is always on the verge of letting loose: as suddenly, that whole idea of cozy quaintness is shattered when Erebus barges in, through the double-wide swinging doors, rollicking with laughter, a busty brothel girl under each arm.

I see Dusk's eyes turn to him--as well as the hurt, reflected in her gaze.

"Dusk, wait--"

She rises up, and starts fleeing briskly toward to the door.

I chase after her, outside, across the busy street--narrowly avoiding speeding carriages-- into a side alley, through a hole in a back fence and across a grassy yard with chained up, barking dogs, up a golden hill rising toward the orange setting sun--

Dusk turns to me, her eyes stained with tears. "Stop following me!"

"Forget about that fucker, Dusk!" I snap back.

"Why do you care?" She laughs coldly, her whole body rocking, showing her teeth as she hunches to the ground, like a wounded animal backed into a corner. "It's because you like me, isn't it?"

"That's right, I do!" I tell her, not backing down. "And you deserve better!"

"Better, as in who? You!?" She laughs again.

I've never seen her in such a state; someone who's usually so calm and level-headed.

I take a step toward her, and she shifts back.

"No! Stay the Hell away from me!"

"You're acting like a child!"

She falls unto the ground and starts climbing, hand and knee, toward the summit of the hill--where a steep drop awaits ln the other side--but I lunge and grab her, pinnimg her down beneath me, even as she pounds her hands and arms against me, screaming and spitting and trying to wriggle herself free.

Durimg the scuffle, Dusk's lips meet mine.

I freeze--the moment catching me by surprise--as she abruptly shifts from trying to break away from me, to pulling her shirt off over her head, revealing her beautiful bare chest...

"Like this." She whispers softly--

As she takes my hand, to cup the palm around her breast.

I am sweating, nervous, all the while; when her soft lips proceed to taste at mine, and I can feel the warmth of her bared body that I had previously only lusted over: now intimately grasped, and fully exposed to my deepest desires.

However...this doesn't feel right.

It feels...inorganic. Wrong.

I love Dusk, but--

"No!"