Chapter Eight - [World: Mob Psycho 100]

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Pov - Lee

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With only about a hundred dollars to my name, a hotel wasn't the best option. Honestly, having someone friendly enough to give me this opportunity seemed a bit too good to be true. I narrowed my eyes and looked at the woman. Before, I thought she was only a bit younger than my mom, but now that we've walked and talked for a bit, I can say that those thoughts were entirely wrong. The way she carried herself and the clothes she wore made her out to look like someone twice her age.

At one point, I thought there were wrinkles on her face, but those turned out to be a trick of the light. There were a few shadows under her eyes, but that had less to do with age and more with how late she probably stayed up. She was still older than me, but probably in her early thirties as opposed to her mid-forties like I thought at first.

"I think I'll take you're offer," I said with a small smile. Her face practically exploded with joy and she grabbed my hand once again.

"Good! Come make dinner!" That awkward, embarrassing wave of emotions slammed into me once more. The most I could do was nod sheepishly with cheeks that were practically on fire.

How long was it going to take Fim to get this stupid thing fixed?

"A week, I believe," he answers just as I finished the thought. "It'll go by faster If you help me consume another one of those walking clumps of energy."

He was talking about the ghosts. That was on my to-do list, but the day was already almost over. Though, maybe hopping out at night wouldn't be such a bad idea. It'd be easier to find ghosts in the dark, right?

...

I had no idea...

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The walk back to the odd woman's home was filled with awkward back and forth between the two of us. Still, the conversation served to help Fim get a better grasp of the language. By the time we stepped into her house, I could understand much more than before.

"You can keep your shoes if you wish," she said with a small smile. "Make self at home!"

Without a word, she let go of my hand and rushed into the house, a cheery tune on her lip. Why the heck was she so damned happy? That would have to be the first question I'd have to ask her.

"This home of hers looks far more impressive than the one we reside in," Fim mused as I took off my shoes and treaded toward the living room. The floors were smooth and dust-free. If I wanted, I'd likely be able to slide across them as a child would. In fact, most of the house was spotless. The small tables with plants in the hallway gave it a nice, homey feeling.

As I stepped into the living room, I saw a large TV. It had to be seventy-five inches at the least. Small potted plants were placed around the room, giving it that "outdoor" feeling. Two large plants sat by the couch and there was a small basin of sand by its feet. If this woman wanted to live on a beach or forest, this was certainly one way of doing it.

"Have a seat and I make you something!" A voice called out from one room over. Casually, I peeked around the corner and found a large kitchen. She was there, wearing a flowery apron and preparing a sandwich. The way she sliced it in two reminded me of how precise doctors could be with a scalpel. She wielded the knife like a master chef and every stroke was measured.

"Tomato and ham fine?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Thank you."

Why was she being so friendly? I guess I'd ask her after eating that sandwich.

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As it turned out, "Tsuyu" was a loner of sorts. As I ate the sandwich, she took a seat next to me and started asking questions of her own. Why was I visiting Japan? Why did I go up and talk to her specifically? Did I like her sandwich?

I sent an equal number of questions back her way and it soon turned into a game. Tsuyu had lived most of her life on her lonesome. Her parents died at a young age, leaving her to fend for herself.

"I learned skills, honed them, and used them to make money."

A lot of money if her house was anything to go by. However, she'd recently retired from her career and moved to this small city.

"Boring. So very boring."

Compared to her old job, there wasn't much to do. The monotony of everyday life had started to get to her.

"So I make my own fun," she said with a small smile. There was probably more to her words than I knew, but so far she'd seemed nice. Maybe letting a stranger into her house as a friendly gesture was "fun" for her? It'd definitely be a bit exciting for people looking for something new.

Either way, I told her a bit about myself in return. Not much, but enough to pique her interest. Before I knew it, night had fallen.

"Let me make dinner."

And once again, she left for the kitchen. The sound of a knife slicing through meat greeted my ears as I watched TV. With all of my focus on trying to get as many different words and expressions, I hardly noticed dinner was ready until Tsuyu tapped my shoulder and pointed to the kitchen table.

"Oh, thank you!"

A small look of surprise bounced across her face. It was her eyes, however, that gave me pause. There was amusement and... excitement? Expectation? I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"You didn't know any Japanese when we met," she said with certainty. "Yet, here you are, speaking better than most people I know. Curious."

This time, her smile was small, reserved and just as sharp as the knife she'd used to cook our dinner.

"I'm a quick learner," I answered nervously. It was a stupid answer, but what was she going to say?

"I'm glad to hear that," she replied mysteriously. "Now, let's eat!"

And eat we did. The food she'd prepared was divine in taste. A delicious steak with rice and a salad. It was simple, but the taste was out of this world. I retired to the couch and she joined me. Before long, I fell into a deep slumber. A quick slumber. When next my eyes open, I found myself on a bed.

"W-Wha-"

I tried to move, but my hands and legs were restrained. The lights were off and if it wasn't for the shimmering of metal against a candle's light, I'd have completely missed Tsuyu. She stood there, a wicked knife in her hand. She was... barely wearing anything at all. The nightgown covering her was almost see-through. Actually, it probably was see-through and it was the darkness obscuring my vision.

She smiled and stepped forward, gently tracing a line along your bare chest with the dull side of that knife of her.

What the hell was I supposed to do?! My mind froze. What? How? Why?!

Her eyes watched my every move and expression, drinking in my panic and surprise gleefully.

"W-What the fucking hell?!" I stutter out, heart running at a hundred miles an hour.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," Tsuyu says softly. She reaches down, gently prodding my bellybutton with her free hand. "It wouldn't be near as fun if you'd chosen to doze off."

Is... Is she insane? She has to be! I was expecting something to happen, but not this! She was too nice, too friends for it to have been any other way. Still, who the hell would have thought she'd tie me down and aim a knife at my stomach!?

"Are you crazy?!" I shout. "Why are you doing this?!"

My heart starts to slow. Fim makes an appearance and hovers closer to Tsuyu's face.

"How odd," he says with a hum. "But, you really shouldn't have anything to worry about if she's a normal woman, right?"

He's right. I can easily break these ropes. Heck, I'd probably be able to kill her if I wanted. Of course, I'm not going to do that unless she starts swinging, but knowing that I can defend myself does a whole lot of good for my sanity.

"Many reasons," Tsuyu answers casually. "Honestly? I was so bored today." She pauses and climbs onto the bed, taking a seat on my groin. "Trying to blend in with normal people is such hard work."

I narrow my eyes, keeping that knife of her in view.

"So you're a serial killer or something? Or is it something else?" I take a calm breath and try my best to still the fear and rage inside me. The former fades rather quickly as I grab hold of the ropes just above my wrist tying me to the bed. It takes but a thought to syphon the heat from them, freezing the deepest parts of the rope. A good tug and they'd snap like twigs.

Amusement flickers across her eyes again.

"I guess you could call me the former," she answers softly. "Though, not in the traditional sense." Tsuyu bends over, pressing herself up against my chest. She dangles her knife next to my ears, slowly passing the flat of the blade against them.

"I did it to survive, not for pleasure or such." Her eyes stare deeply into mine as if seeing straight through me.

To survive? What?

"Many people came after me, people like you." She paused, searching my face for something. "But, all met their end at the edge of my knife."

Wait...

"Are you saying you're an assassin?!" What the hell?!

A smile slides across her lips. She pulls back and gives me a tiny clap. The nearby candle's light flickers across her transparent nightgown. For a brief moment, I get a glimpse of the pink flesh underneath. A blush slowly creeps up over my cheeks.

She's a pervert too, apparently.

"You speak like you're not one," she chimes in, gently pressing the tip of her blade against my sternum. "Why else would you have approached me?"

Is... is she for real?

"Because I was lost?!" God damn it, Fim. You sure know how to pick em.

"Actually, I chose her because of the strange feeling she was giving off," he chimes in. "It felt like some sort of energy tightly bundled in her chest, but it hasn't so much as fluttered."

What?! Why didn't you tell me about that too?

"I wanted to get a better grasp on it before saying anything," Fim answers with a tiny shrug. "I did not expect her to act like this."

I blow a sigh and shake my head. Damn it, Fim...

"Look, Tsuyu, I'm no assassin! I really am just a lost foreigner."

She raises a brow and lets out a cutesy hum.

"One that can pick up a language he doesn't know in just a few hours? One that's practically seeping in strangeness and also likes to look at empty space as if someone were there?"

Son of a bitch. Do I do that?

"Sometimes," Fim says with a nod.

Still, how does that prove anything?

"Look, that's just a coincidence!"

She shakes her head.

"I've had many 'coincidences' in my life, and do you know what those lead to? Death." She twirls the knife in her hand. "Often, It was me who coincidentally bumped into my target."

This time, her tone is hollow. Her eyes grow dull for a split second before she starts talking again.

"It's not the first time they sent someone like you, and it won't be the last." She sighs. "I simply want to live this boring life of mine in peace. Its mundane nature is horrible, but at the very least I don't need to worry about killing others. It's my life."

"I'm not an assassin!"

She nods.

"I wish that were true, but things line up just too perfect. I'm certain that If I turn my back to you, I'll end up with a knife in it."

Jesus Christ. How paranoid can someone be? She's as stubborn as a mule too!

"So you're going to kill me?"

She hesitates.

"Perhaps, but, if you tell me the truth, I might let you live." She stops for a moment. "To be honest, our little conversations were nice, so I'm willing to give you some slack."

"..."

"Don't look at me like that," she says, giving me a pout. "I could tell you were staying mostly truthful, just like me. That honesty deserves some reward, right?"

"You... like honest people?"

She nods, her breasts mimicking the rising and falling of her head.

"It's hard to find them in our line of business, right? Though, I'm wondering why you fell for my obviously tainted cooking."

"Cause I'm not an assassin!"

She grins.

"Or, maybe you're trying to get my guard down? A very risky plan, but the bold often make a name for themselves."

...

"Now, would you be a kind dear and tell me who sent you?"