(10)
The room was obviously tense, the atmosphere of waiting for a bomb to go off, and the young man was relishing in it, knowing they were all waiting for the other shoe to drop, and only he knew when he’d let it go. Well, all except one of them.
The brunette took the opportunity to catch her breath, again pulling her forearm across her forehead as she moved about to get a better look at him, sword still in her hand. “Sorry, I hate to be a buzzkill, and it’s obvious you’re expecting a response, but …”
He did look put off for a moment, but his grin swiftly returned. “Ah, yes, the amnesia, I heard the news. You have no idea who I am, do you? Well, Lady Thunder Witch, you’ll be pleased to know--” The next instant, there was a flurry of cold air that was frigid in the wake of all of the fire that had been flying about, and he was right behind her, leaning over her shoulder, toying with her new ponytail. “--that I’m your biggest fan!” He seemed to have guessed some sort of strike would be quick to follow, so he broke away before she took the notion to do so. “Of all of you, really. I wasn’t exaggerating. Watching you lovely fey spirits in battle is to see poetry made flesh!”
“That’s very flattering,” she said to the blue-skinned man without really meaning it, “but it’s not very helpful. Since you’re going around expecting everyone to recognize you, I’m guessing you’re supposed to be a greater demon of some renown?”
Rather than being insulted, his smile only widened as he gave an overdramatic and showy bow. “My name is Eirwen, and I suppose I am someone of renown, for I am the crowned prince of the entire demon empire.”
“Right,” she stated flatly and blunt. “Ice powers?”
His head snapped up as his eyes alit. “You do remember?”
“Your name literally references snow, you’re ice blue with snow white hair and you wear a fur coat,” she pointed out with utterly no interest in nonsense. “Either that’s a blatant broadcast that you like snowballs or you need to seriously reconsider your life choices.”
Immediately, his head comically fell once more. “And yet no spell at my command could rival the coldness of your heart …”
“Yeah, don’t let it get you too down, Wren,” Flame Witch flatly assured him at the scene in front of her. “She was about as impressed by my transformation, or Sarasa’s for that matter. A real killjoy, isn’t it?”
Yes, the initial tension in the room had certainly evaporated by this point, and Reina seemed to feel the need to get it back on some sort of rails as she cleared her throat. “I would be more delighted than I should be to find that your presence here was merely spying on us for your personal entertainment, but we never seem to be so fortunate. I will ask you now, do you intend to attack us?”
He was immediately enthused again, and he turned back toward the brunette, giving her a smile and wink he clearly thought was supposed to be charming. “Well, Lady Thunder Witch? What do you think? Am I here to attack you?”
She actually considered the question. She could see Natsumi choking back a knee-jerk reaction, but instead, she got the impression it was a sort of trick question. She stepped away from him, walking backwards to increase the distance as one might to get the whole picture of something to which they were too close, staring at him all the while. Of course, this also brought her closer to the other witches just in case.
“… No.” Finally, the brunette shook her head. “No, you’re not here to attack. You don’t like attacking directly, you think it ruins your mental image of yourself as a dashing Prince Charming.” She blatantly ignored him miming taking a knife to the heart. But then she raised her blade into a ready position. “You’ve already done something else.”
“Bingo!”
In that very instant, an explosion rocked the back of the dojo and something came shooting out from a storage space behind the wall, flying right for Flame Witch. Just before glistening steel came down on her, gold intercepted it as the brunette interposed herself, blade above her head to catch the overhead strike of what looked like a demonic samurai full of shadows and unspeakable vitriol.
Flame Witch was staggered by what she saw. “That … You infested my family armor with a demon curse!” She wheeled on him furiously. “You had no right!”
But Prince Eirwen just chuckled. “The ancestral armor of a witch’s family? No wonder it had such strong bonds. Say, do me a favor, girls? If you do manage to win, could you avoid purifying it? Sounds like it could be a great demon proper.”
The armor had the greater leverage over the brunette, and was starting to push down on her. “Girls?” she called. “Priorities? I can’t hold this guy here forever, you know! How about the Human Torch melts Iceman when I’m not fending off another melon splitter?! Can really tell it’s a Homura, by the way, Red!”
“Can you shut up about melons for five minutes?!” Flame Witch gathered fire around her hands, then nodded to the others to encourage them to get transformed while the two of them kept the proto-demon busy.
… But that was when the samurai leaned forward to allow its blade to slip down the length of its golden opposition, sending the brunette off-balance before driving its shoulder into her torso to send her sprawling backwards onto the ground. The motion drew Flame Witch’s attention just in time to throw up another quick barrier as the proto-demon seemed driven to exclusively focus its aggression on her. She jumped clear of the follow-up, but the cursed armor pursued.
The brunette found her feet and pursued the samurai in turn, coming up on it as it cleaved at another, better prepared shield. She tried to take advantage of it being in the middle of attacking Flame Witch, but it turned its blade at the last moment to scrape down the side of the barrier instead of making it a direct strike while it turned to the side, sending its blade skidding down to knock her thrust down. She managed to side step its back kick that it tried to shake her off with, but when she swung again, it turned fully toward her once more and forced her again into one of those horrid locks where its superior strength controlled her movements.
On the other hand, that freed up Flame Witch, an opportunity she didn’t waste a second time as she formed a great ball of fire above her head. When her prep work looked nearly finished, the brunette broke away, trading a thin gash across her shoulder from the proto-demon’s katana to escape the lock and dive clear. Yet again, for some inexplicable reason, the samurai turned for Flame Witch instead of pursuing its injured opponent, but her ally had cleared out from friendly fire range and all the creature met was the massive fireball directly to its face.
The brunette had returned to Flame Witch’s side as she touched down amid the smoke and flames that spotted around the blast zone. “Why is that thing so good?” she demanded to know as she held her opposite hand over the injured shoulder. “It’s just an animated pile of old armor, isn’t it?”
“Objects with strong bonds inherit a portion of the memories and experiences from those bonds,” Homura explained. “It’s what shapes their skills when a demon animates them through a curse. But now that it’s a pile of smoking scrap, Sacred Witch can purify it and we can be done with it.” Her eyes widened, however, when the proto-demon sat up again, then climbed to its feet and locked its gaze on her once again. “Wait, what?! It doesn’t even look hurt! It took that to the face! Why isn’t it even singed?!”
It took the swordswoman a moment longer to come up with an answer as the proto-demon first started forward, then paused to pick its own weapon back up. “It’s a Homura,” she repeated her earlier comment. “You said it, yourself, its bonds shapes its skills, right? Well, your family birthed a fire witch.”
An expression of fear moved across Natsumi’s face for a moment at those implications as she reflexively took a step back, and then the creature charged her again. The swordswoman took her hand off of her shoulder as the pistol appeared in it and she started shooting at the enemy, but swore when it just batted the beams away with its blade without even slowing down. It powered up to them, sword raised for a mighty cleave. The brunette raised her blade to defend Flame Witch again.
The air thundered around them as a bolt of lightning struck the samurai’s upraised sword, stunning it with the voltage and driving it staggered back several steps.
Sparks still danced around Sacred Witch’s raised hand as Flare Witch and Shield Witch moved to her either side, while Miss Sada had retreated in cat form to the safe distance of a window sill. “You’ve chosen well this time, Eirwen,” she praised the blue man. “Your monster has us at a disadvantage, being able to negate the strengths of our two most offensive members, even so recently after one switched specialties. Indeed, I have a feeling this fight was intended to go very differently with Thunder Witch’s powers intact. Nevertheless, do not forget that there are five of us, not two.”
The prince’s mind, however, was entirely elsewhere. “Oh, the only thing I’m regretting forgetting is a camera,” he insisted as he gave a grind of his heel in frustration. “It’s so hard to watch the fight and appreciate your transformations at the same time!”
The brunette had been too concentrated on keeping one Homura from slicing and dicing another to notice the other three transforming, as well, but she recalled how Fire Witch had looked when transforming and scowled. “Girls don’t like a pervert, Wren!”
The accusation seemed to actually sting through his bravado for a moment before he reflexively closed his arms and turned away slightly as if to shield his own ego from assault. “It is not perversion to appreciate beauty before oneself!”
“It is if you record it to gawk at later.”
Flame Witch’s hand came down on her good shoulder. “And you were telling me to focus on priorities.”
She turned to follow the redhead’s gaze right back to the proto-demon, and she gritted her teeth as she cursed herself internally, moving to stabilize her stance she had let relax. The samurai had recovered from the stunning effect of Reina’s lightning, and she had let slip a crucial opening to end this outright by striking it down while it was defenseless. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get sucked into the casual atmosphere they all seemed to have, like none of it mattered, like it was all some after-school club.
No, it wasn’t just that, she realized as she went over her own state of being in as nearly an automatic reaction as it was an immediate one. She realized she’d been ignoring it as the fight went on as if that would make it go away, but she was tired. A heavy sparring session, then fighting a magical girl, and now this proto-demon, anyone would be wearing out after such a marathon, especially with no break between the last two.
There was more than exhaustion afflicting her, though, something she hadn’t ever felt before. It felt similar to lactic muscle burn, but fainter and not tied to any muscle she could place. Instead, it seemed to spread across the entire inner lining of her body. Beneath the flesh, the muscle, even the bones, something in her was wearing thin that she had never strained before. Her memory flashed back to Miss Sada’s river erosion metaphor.
As quickly as all of this ran through her mind, she shunted it aside. It didn’t matter. She’d dropped the ball, and now anything this thing did to any of the girls was going to rest firmly on her own shoulders. This mistake could never be allowed to happen again. All she could do now was do her best to make sure none of them suffered for her error.
It was no shock that Flare Witch immediately picked up on this inner conflict. “Nariko,” Haru called to her, “switch out with one of us and take a breather!”
Yeah, there was no way that was going to happen. Sure, they could probably keep the guy off of Natsumi, but then every injury they took doing so would be specifically because she decided she needed a break. Instead, she tightened her grip on the sword as she followed the proto-demon, who had begun to pace. Clearly, it was looking for an avenue of attack that wouldn’t see it eating another bolt of that lightning. “It’s just a flesh wound,” she called back, referring to her shoulder. “I’m fine.” She lowered her voice, directing the comment more quietly to Homura. “Besides, I’ve got a bigger problem than injury. I think I’m burning out.”
The brunette couldn’t see the look of abject shock that washed across Flame Witch’s face. This shouldn’t have been anywhere near Thunder Witch’s magical limit. She’d seen the girl fight an endless wave of mooks for half an hour straight. Physical limits were one thing, especially without a transformation, but how could Nariko have burnt through so much magic so quickly? Natsumi recalled how out of place the sheer force of her blows had seemed in their spar, though. In the fight against the mooks, Thunder Witch had been able to ration herself, spreading out her energy across the lighter attacks that sufficed. Could she have lasted anywhere near as long if she’d been throwing out near-finishers the entire time?
Shock shifted to mortal realization along with the obvious answer. It neatly explained the strength behind the sword. She hadn’t thought anything of it before then, since she was accustomed to the Witches all having enhanced abilities while transformed, but Nariko was still in that borrowed gi. She should have been crushed by the very first cleave the proto-demon dropped on her. Unless she was answering with the force of a high-end spell.
No, it was no surprise that Nariko was burning out. Rather, it was inevitable. But she wasn’t sure the brunette realized just how much of a bigger problem that was. It was almost inconceivable that the well of power a Witch possessed could run dry, but the body couldn’t channel it indefinitely. It would eventually be incapable of maintaining the flow, just like exhaustion could rob the strength of the mightiest power lifter. If Nariko tried to block another of the samurai’s blows and her power flagged, she could be killed then and there.
“Here he comes,” the brunette declared a moment before the samurai started to move. As it charged, its blade was off to one side as before, a drawn back position that could readily move to strike from any of nearly 180 angles, but she had a hunch it wasn’t going for a cleave this time, and braced her own foot toward its blade side as she began swinging into its approach.
Gold rang against steel again as her hunch proved right and she knocked its side swing away. It was learning, and clearly intended not to turn itself into a lightning rod again. Fortunately for her, this also robbed the proto-demon of one of its most devastating tricks against her. That alone might be the edge she needed to turn this around. Even as the movement between the two blades was carrying through, her eyes pivoted back to the samurai’s shadow-choked mask, and in the following heartbeat, she twisted her wrists and brought the sword back into a shallow upward angle.
The blow landed against its masked face, the impact force causing it to bend backwards as its oni-style mask went careening off of its form to clatter against a far wall. The victory in a clean, definitive hit against the creature was short-lived, however, as that was all that came off, and the proto-demon soon straightened back to face her with a skull face formed entirely of writhing shadows.
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Flame Witch was positive that wasn’t right. Her midsection still remembered what a direct hit from Nariko’s demon weapons felt like. There was no way a half-formed creature like this should still have an upper torso from that strike, much less a face. No, was her power already failing?
There was no time to consider the possibility. The samurai had stepped back to reconsider the warrior that was refusing it access to the target it desired, then leveled its blade directly at the brunette.
“Yeah, that’s right, ugly, I’m here,” the brunette replied, not with the boisterous volume typical of Thunder Witch, but as a quiet declaration. “I don’t know why you’re obsessed with just attacking her, but it’s not going to fly so long as I’m standing.”
Flame Witch was not accustomed to feeling as helpless as she did facing an opponent who both was immune to her powers and desperately wanted to skewer her specifically, and she certainly was not accustomed to hiding behind Nariko of all people. For half a moment, the words both warmed and humiliated her, knowing that this person was dedicated to defending her without criticism while also reminding her that she was dependent upon the protection. Then she felt energy building in the proto-demon. “It’s preparing a spell!”
Shadows coursed down the samurai’s arm to engulf the length of its blade and trail its swing as it stepped back in, openly risking another cleave. This time, Sacred Witch’s casting was too slow and struck harmlessly behind the swing, and though the brunette raised her sword to block it with one hand on the hilt and the other supporting the flat of the blade, the charged attack came down on her with its full force. Golden energy flashed in response from her own sword when they met, but was instantly blown away by the proto-demon’s shadow blow. Her knees immediately buckled and one folded before the other, tipping her blade in that direction, a ready course for the proto-demon’s blade to zip down its length. It barely missed her face before cleaving into her injured shoulder and forcing a scream of pain from her throat.
The samurai drew the blade long from the girl on her knees in one smooth movement and drew back to finish her off for good, finally seeming to decide that at least this one had to be removed instead of ignored, but its blade came down against another shield, sturdier than any of Flame Witch’s. Ran’s arms were raised toward the brunette to project it, her normally timid face set in an expression of focus.
An instant later, Haru shouted, “Shining Lance,” and a beam of light identical to the one she’d opened with that first night against Dakunaito flashed through the air. The proto-demon was not the dark knight, and had looked up just in time to catch it to the face. The spell didn’t seem to do much in the way of damage, but the samurai staggered back while covering it face, disoriented by the blinding light.
In that window, the brunette watched Flare Witch throw herself forward with a look of conviction that was completely out of place on the blonde’s face, yet again throwing herself into melee with an opponent more skilled than her. But again, the proto-demon was not Dakunaito, and she was able to rain enough brute force blows on it while it was still recovering from the flash to drive it back away from the brunette still left on the ground.
Eirwen was simply hooting with glee in the background as if things were finally getting entertaining for him.
Sacred Witch hurried to the girl on the floor and went to grab her under the arms, clearly intending to drag her out of the way while the opening lasted, but the brunette shoved the arms away.
“Ignore me,” she insisted with the one arm she had that still worked. “Help Haru before she gets herself killed!”
“She isn’t the only one trying for that today,” the upperclassman immediately reprimanded her and grabbed her again, ignoring her further protests until she’d gotten her back by Ran. “Shield Witch, keep covering whoever’s vulnerable. If you see an opening to attack, try to take it. Otherwise, we’re counting on your barriers.”
Wakumi only nodded her understanding, not finding any words and not looking particularly confident in the idea, but she managed to squeak out a, “Yes,” and this was apparently enough for Sacred Witch.
The samurai, meanwhile, had finally managed to regain enough sense to throw Flare Witch off of it, which seemed to be the opening for Flame Witch and Sacred Witch to open fire while Shield Witch switched her attention to protecting Haru from the force of her own impact. Unfortunately, Flame Witch’s attacks were still fire, and as such were little more than an annoyance, and Sacred Witch had switched to a shadow element that didn’t seem much more effective.
It charged through both and literally backhanded Reina with more of that shadow energy it had used against the brunette, sending her toppling to the side before she could catch herself, and wheeled to finally grasp Flame Witch, hauling her off of her feet by her collar and running her back first into the nearest wall, crushing the air from her lungs with the impact. Shield Witch had apparently panicked about which one of the two to protect and had erroneously chosen to protect Sacred Witch from a follow-up attack that hadn’t come, and from her inaction, didn’t seem able to project a barrier around someone already grabbed.
Between the proto-demon and Flame Witch, the latter instinctively wrapped her hands around the wrist of the limb pinning her to the wall as she gasped to recover from getting winded with the impact. “What’s your pick with me?! Get off, you ancient scrap!”
But the samurai answered. It leaned in toward her face and, in a voice with a heavy archaic accent that sound drudged up from the grave, it spoke its first words with what seemed to be great effort. “Traitor. You. Dishonor. Death.”
All fight instantly vanished from Flame Witch’s grasp as the blood seemed to visibly drain from her face, as if she’d suddenly seen a ghost instead of a demon. But then the proto-demon reared back in pain enough to force it to drop Natsumi from against the wall. The brunette’s good arm was still raised with the golden gun in her grip, but it was shaking, and the weapon faded away even from within her grip.
Instead, she stuck her foot out to hook her blade that still lay on the floor. “RED!” she shouted with all of the volume she could muster and whipped the sword to send it skidding across the floor in the magical girl’s general direction.
The samurai lunged for Flame Witch again, but she dove to the side, narrowly avoiding getting grabbed a second time. She twisted to avoid its sword so it struck against the concrete beside her and then scurried for the weapon. The instant her hand closed around it, flames erupted down its entire length as she was already turning to parry a second strike. The golden blade that met the proto-demon’s this time was a wakizashi with a narrow blue strip running down the back of the blade, but the polish of the cutting edge varied wildly down its entire length, as if it had been sharpened by flame, permanently casting the shadows of its whipping tongues in its flat surface.
Despite being on her back, Flame Witch shoved back with enough force to throw the samurai’s blade off of her and immediately rolled back to her feet. The proto-demon pursued, but the blade was no longer in the hands of someone of only human strength, and Homura nimbly batted away each stroke of his assault as flames, rather than the brunette’s yellow light, splashed from the wakizashi’s every impact.
Natsumi immediately understood Nariko’s sentiment back in the club room when she’d first held the blade and objected to how light it felt. It barely felt like she was holding a metal weapon at all, and it moved through every motion like it wanted to move, almost as if she needed only nudge the frictionless blade in a direction to make it strike. She’d never held a weapon like this in her life, even when she’d marveled over her grandfather’s mastercraft collection. And yet it struck with such force she felt like she could shatter the samurai’s demonblade like glass if she took the notion. No doubt a significant part of that power was coming from her. She could feel her magic flowing into the blade so easily it almost felt like it was being sucked from her with every blow, and could only barely restrain it, like holding back an explosion by sheer force of will. The terrifyingly unnatural power of Nariko’s blows crystallized in her understanding. She could barely think of the golden blade as a demon weapon, it seemed too perfect for her hand.
Fighting with a weapon in hand, the proto-demon now seemed so slow, especially with this weapon, and every time the samurai struck for her again, it was almost with a sense of bewilderment that she pushed its blade aside. She knew that it was attempting to overcome her defenses with a rapid blitzkrieg of blows, but she found herself turning them aside individually. They were meaningless to her. She found herself wondering what would happen if she just let her restraint off of the explosion a little bit, pushed back just a little harder.
The impact sent the proto-demon’s katana recoiling away from her, so much that it pulled the creature, itself, physically back by the shoulder, causing it to take a step back to catch itself.
This simultaneously broke the bewildered trance she’d lost herself in, and she finally took notice of the rest of the room. Most of them seemed to be staring in disbelief at what they were seeing happen, with only three exceptions. Her eyes had first gone to Shield Witch, and Ran looked close to tears worrying about her. Next to her and still on the ground, however, Nariko didn’t even look impressed so much as vindicated that her expectations were being met. And then there was Sarasa. Even as a catlike creature, Miss Sada’s piercing gaze spoke that she was amused rather than disbelieving. Much like Nariko, she didn’t seem surprised by what was unfolding before her at all, but rather than something she had expected to happen, she gave the impression of a mother watching a child discover something for the first time, and was curious to see what the child would do with it.
Even Eirwen was among those stunned by what they were seeing, and he finally found his voice. “What, what, what? What’s this? Where did it come from?!”
When Nariko grinned, it came out more as a grimace, no surprise since it looked like she was practically holding her own shoulder in place. “She’s a martial artist with super strength wearing an outfit that multiplies all of her physical abilities. What did you think was going to happen?”
… Why’d she have to say it like that? It made it sound like she’d been doing something wrong. There was nothing wrong with how she’d always fought, this enemy was just weird, it didn’t count.
“Come on,” Nariko was continuing, “stop playing with that thing and let him have it!”
At the reminder that she was actually still in said fight, Flame Witch spun back toward the proto-demon, clenching her teeth in anger as she did so. How dare she tell her what to do like Nariko knew how Flame Witch should fight?! She couldn’t even transform!
The samurai had been hesitant to re-engage its newly armed target after that last knockback, but apparently decided the moment to consider its options had passed when her attention returned to it, and charged with a mighty overhead cleave.
And cut it out with the melons! The nearly irrational thought flashed through Flame Witch’s mind as she swung up at the incoming attack with both hands on the wakizashi’s hilt. When the two blades met, there was a flash of light as the impact landed like an explosion, sending pieces of metal showering down around them, but none of them gold.
The proto-demon could only pull itself up from where it fell and stare dumbly down at the scorched remnants of its shattered blade in its grip.
Yeah, she’d finish it off, alright, her mental rant continued as she began channeling her energy for her biggest spell. She’d do it her way, let that know-it-all see what power really was. For the second time that day, she began a particular rotation, but it was slightly different this time. The focal point of the pirouette was not before her torso, but the end of her arm. “Furious Dragon’s …”
Yes, she could feel it! All of that fire, all of that power, sucking down into the blade like water into a great hole, but not without purpose. The blade was beginning to glow as if under the heat of a forge as the blade contained it all. This demon blade, she’d show it, too, so much power even something demons thought was limitless would strain! She could feel the drag of all the weight of the mana now. As she turned and pulled it behind her, it felt less like the wisp of gold and more like a molten anvil, but drag it around she did, and with its building momentum, she brought it up over her shoulder like a great cudgel, under which she would crush the insult to her family that stood before her.
“… EXPLOSION!!!”
The blast whitewashed the vision of everyone in the massive room as the girls who were able to do so struggled to hold their footing and erect barriers against the heat and force. On reflex, Reina even found herself protecting both herself and Eirwen, who seemed too stunned to even consider raising a defense of his own. None could see anyone beyond a few feet from them, and then only as a dark shadow against the light, all other features of the room erased from their vision. The windows burst, and in the distance, even the massive double doors rumbled under the pressure.
When vision returned to those in the room, amazingly, the armor was still barely singed, but the sheer kinetic force of the explosion had shattered it in every direction. The only major part that couldn’t be picked out around the room was the helmet, and after a long moment of silence, the reason why made itself known. The blast had wedged it into the ceiling, itself, until its own weight pulled itself back out and it clattered to the ground in front of Flame Witch. For a moment, the shadowy skull was still there, and it gasped out one last sound too quiet for anyone else to catch before the dark vitriol that formed it evaporated.
Flame Witch stared at it for a long moment before turning to look to Shield Witch once more, who had protected herself and Nariko, only to see Flare Witch already hurrying to fret over the brunette’s injuries. Whatever concern Wakumi had held over the outcome had been washed away by the blast, and now she just looked uncomfortable to be next to the two of them. Sacred Witch was still over by where Eirwen had been, but the demon prince had already taken off. Miss Sada had taken the opportunity of Ran’s larger defensive field to wait out the attack there, and now had returned to human form to try to console Haru long enough to allow someone to see to Kelly’s injuries.
Homura looked down at the sword still in her grip, trying to form a solid image of what she thought of the thing, but nothing came. Maybe Riko wasn’t the only one burning out. Instead, she let the limb drop and called over to their leader. “Hey, Tamashini, you’re up. Let’s get this done before my grandfather comes looking.” It didn’t matter that wasn’t possible, as they were still inside of Sarasa’s seal. All Reina really had to do was purify the armor, and then they could remove the seal and the place would snap back to how it had been before. Even though her grandfather was in the house just next door, he’d have never heard a thing. But Natsumi felt the need to make the connection all the same.
Meanwhile, she made her way over to the injured girl. She had to bring herself to admit it, but Nariko had fought very well. Not as well as she had, of course, but allowances had to be made for handicaps. It was the sword, itself, that had made the difference, of course, but the way Nariko had stood by her even though she knew she was flagging still haunted her mind. For a long moment, she stood unnoticed next to them, invisible in the fretting over the brunette despite being the one to destroy the proto-demon. Something in her told her the attention should have been on her, that she should be angry at Nariko for taking this moment from her, but something else told her to stop being a child, and besides, the other Witch looked nearly as overwhelmed by the attention as Flame Witch felt left out.
Instead of making a scene, she just knelt down next to the brunette so she could set the weapon down next to her, the hand it went to obviously not currently operable. “Kelly. Thanks for the loaner.”
The brunette’s attempt at a positive grin still had more in common with a painful grimace, and one of Sarasa’s attempts to line up the body parts correctly caused her to yelp before she could fully suppress the jerking motion, but she didn’t make a fuss over it and kept her body as still as she could. “Hey, it’s only fair. You loaned me the gi, and I regret to inform you that you are not getting it back in nearly as pristine a condition.”
Flame Witch scoffed at that as she stood. “They’re a dime a dozen. Just don’t make a habit of expecting me to replace them, get your own if you’re going to get it cut up and incinerated.”
She had started walking away when Kelly went, “Hey, Red,” causing her to stop and glance back to the brunette. The grimace was a little more of a grin this time, if only a bit. “You were pretty spectacular there. Sorry for making fun of your fireballs.”
The words caught her off-guard and for a moment, she just stood there staring down at the brunette, but when she processed what was happening, she turned on her heel so she could smile while pretending it was a smirk. “Jerk,” was her only reply. Saying what she needed to hear like that. She started walking away again, heading over to where Ran had moved to one of the walls. Maybe Analysis wasn’t all bad, if it was held by someone who wasn’t always using it to make everyone around her miserable.
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