Chapter 4. Keeping in Check (2)

I had never once met anyone who came to torment me and could actually fight.

For ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one thing, no girl had ever bothered to bring a boy along to rough me up. Whether that was luck, or whether they simply never felt the need to go that far, I couldn't say. Hayun knew nothing of any of this, and even if the Company did, it had no reason to lift a finger for me—so at the very least, it wasn't as though anyone had been watching my back from the shadows. And even if my job technically counted as 'fighting,' too wide a gap in weight class spells real trouble. Looked at that way, I suppose I could call it a mercy.

Second, the girls who came to threaten me were, almost to a one, the kind who had never learned to fight at all. Whether they'd tried sports or taken up martial arts and concluded it wasn't much use in real life, I couldn't tell you—but among everyone who ever came to bully me, not a single expert had shown up yet. That, too, was a blessing. After all, even fighting magical girls, I don't rely on my own physical abilities alone.

Strip all of that away, and what remained was always the same breed: girls who tried to force me to my knees with nothing but numbers and bluster. First a hand would fly out, and while the girl who caught it reeled in shock, the mob would pile on for the lynch—until, at the end, they stood over you demanding you kneel on the ground, drunk on the thrill of it.

"Hyaah...!"

But there was no chance in hell I was taking a punch from girls like that.

However unremarkable I might look, this was a body that had once dodged beams. However much the suit did the heavy lifting, movement itself was something the body remembered.

Maybe she'd been aiming for a slap across the cheek, because a palm whipped toward my face; I eased my upper body back just enough to let it slide past. A kick came flying next, but it wasn't particularly fast either. I slipped sideways, and as she planted that foot back on the ground, she wobbled.

A light push of my foot here would have dropped her, but I didn't go that far.

"Still, I'd rather you didn't go for the face."

If my face took a hit, Hayun would definitely worry tomorrow.

Not that I had any intention of eating a hit anywhere, face or body.

I had no intention of hitting them, either.

I lifted my gaze a little. A camera was mounted on the streetlight, and beside it, in bold red lettering, the words SECURITY CAMERA had been posted for all the world to see.

The alley we stood in sat a little apart from 'where the rich people lived.' It wasn't far enough up to count as a proper shantytown yet, but there were a few stretches of road you wouldn't want to climb alone after dark. And rich neighborhood or not, people who could vote lived here, so somebody did keep an eye on the place. Besides, this being the road up to the shantytown, it went without saying that the ground sloped.

As I dodged here and slipped there, dragging things out, the speed of the hands and feet flying at me dropped off dramatically. I kept subtly backpedaling uphill, until the girls were effectively climbing the slope with every punch and kick they threw. Beating on someone already burns through a surprising amount of stamina; do it while ascending a hill, and of course you're going to run dry.

"Hey, you... stop right there."

"I am stopped. Keep coming."

I taunted the girls whose faces were dyed scarlet and who were heaving for breath despite the dead of winter. This slope grew steeper the further up you went; near the top, it could hold its own against the first stretch of any decent hiking trail. And yet packages and mail still made it up here without fail, which never stopped striking me as a small wonder.

There was something mildly delightful about watching three girls sweat through a midwinter beating.

Had pride simply blinded them to the option of turning back halfway?

"See? Thought I was an easy mark, didn't you?"

At my taunt, the face of the girl who seemed to be their leader flared even redder. So this was what people meant by sparks flying from someone's eyes.

"You—fuck—I'm going to kill you."

The shrieking had dropped to a low growl. Panting through clenched teeth as she ground the words out, she actually looked fairly convincing.

I gauged the distance between where I stood and where the girls stood. They walked slowly up toward me, tempers boiled over to the very tips of their heads, apparently resolved to finish me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off for good today. The alley was narrow. If the three of them closed in side by side, it might be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about time to make my break.

With that thought, I set my stance.

"Hold it—!"

The instant I was about to bolt through the gap, someone shouted. The three girls and I turned our heads at the same time.

And there stood a hero.

...Just kidding, of course.

It was just some strange figure with their face hidden behind a 'mask'—if you could call it that. Less a proper mask than a scarf stretched out and wound haphazardly around the head. Charitably, the look said fundamentalist terrorist; less charitably, a homeless guy draped in a ragged mat. Thank goodness it was winter, so that not an inch of skin showed. If that blue skin had been visible, things would have gotten very serious in a great many ways.

"What the heck is that now."

One of the girls muttered it, and my attention swung entirely away from them to the figure standing atop somebody's courtyard wall.

"Hey—wait!"

Watching it prepare to leap straight down at the girls, I shouted with everything I had.

"Hm?"

At my sudden call, the figure's head turned toward me mid-crouch, and the leaping posture fell apart. The body tilted in a very wrong direction.

"Ah."

Well, this is ruined.

I closed my eyes.

"Kyaa!?"

I heard the girls scream, and then a heavy thud of something colliding. When I opened my eyes, the mystery figure—well, not much of a mystery, but whatever you'd call a hero cosplayer or what have you—was sprawled on top of all three of them.

Oh, this is a problem.

I ran the numbers fast between two options.

One: leave them all here and run.

Two: drag the idiot out with me anyway.

Honestly, in my heart of hearts, option one was enormously tempting. Helping might land me in trouble of my own, and above all, this was the capital crime of barging into a plan I'd laid out with some care and wrecking it.

I had never intended to lay a hand on the girls. Fighting back—striking them, pinning them down—would only put me at a crushing disadvantage. So the plan had simply been to sprint full-tilt down this slope and let the girls chasing me trip over their own feet.

...Could that count as 'assault'?

Earth was still a protected, underdeveloped planet, which complicated matters in a dozen different ways. An alien properly registered with the Galaxy Federation could more or less claim extraterritorial rights, but for a tourist hovering one step from illegal overstaying, it would be a problem in every sense of the word.

Which is to say: if I left him there and the police hauled him in, the verdict would be deportation, no exceptions.

"...Ugh, fine. I don't care."

I sprinted over and seized the wrist of the figure, who was only just struggling back to his feet. And I ran.

"Uh—uhh?"

Having been the one to thrust himself into the middle of things, he now seemed entirely unable to process being hauled along by the wrist. I ran with everything I had. He still looked hopelessly lost, but Jigupa followed my hand and ran hard anyway. Someone was yelling something behind us; I ignored it.

"Haa... haa... haa..."

After a long run, we reached the neighborhood park. It wasn't anything grand—a stream trickled down from the hills, and hugging its bank sat a park with a single pavilion and a short walking trail. I glanced back down the path. No one had followed.

"Phew."

I let out a long breath and plopped down on the pavilion bench. The local elders usually all but annexed the place, but perhaps because winter hadn't quite released its grip, not another soul was in sight.

"Wh-what was that, just now?"

"No—that's my question."

Jigupa, finally catching his breath, unwound the scarf from his face as he asked, and I furrowed my brow.

"Where did you even pop out from all of a sudden?"

"Huh? Oh, that—I'd come out to buy dinner."

And sure enough, there was a plastic bag in Jigupa's hand. Come to think of it, he'd probably been holding it back on the wall, too.

"...Ah."

Then he looked inside the bag and deflated on the spot. The antennae on his head went limp in an instant. I leaned over and peered in as well. Cup ramen. All of it thoroughly crushed.

Come to think of it, there hadn't been any work for a while. I was fine—I received something like a stipend, and the orphanage and school covered all my meals—but for him, paying rent and every last utility bill on top of it, those cup noodles must have been his daily bread.

"...I can just boil these in a pot, I guess."

Watching Jigupa laugh a hollow haha, I frowned a little.

"Why did you come out back there?"

I still hadn't heard the whole story.

"Well... it sounded like someone was being bullied."

"So you came to help?"

"I mean... you were the one getting picked on, weren't you?"

I dragged a hand down my face. Seriously—what kind of evil-syndicate combatant does that? Then again, I was out here doing all this to keep the orphanage running, so I wasn't exactly a normal human being myself.

I heaved a big sigh.

"Come with me."

"Huh? Where?"

"Less talking."

When I started walking, Jigupa obediently fell in behind me, and I ducked into the nearest convenience store.

Look, honestly, I didn't think any of it was really my fault—but he had been trying to help me, after all. And in the process, his dinner had been smashed to pieces. Feeling a little sorry for him, I bought him fresh cup ramen. And while I was at it, a small can of coffee.

"Ahh~"

And so we were sitting in the pavilion again. Jigupa had whined that he 'hated drinking alone,' so I'd ended up buying a second can—for the record, that second can was bought with his own money, the fruit of his stubborn insistence that at least this one can, he would pay for himself.

Jigupa held a blue can; I held the same blue can, warmed through. The crushed cup ramen doubled as our bar snacks.

I, for one, didn't eat a single bite. It wasn't that I had anything against eating ramen crushed up—I just didn't see the point of pairing crunchy noodles coated in spicy, salty seasoning with coffee. Jigupa, meanwhile, was picking at it like side dishes to go with soju. His face looked a touch flushed, too.

Then my eye caught the sign pasted to the pavilion: NO DRINKING.

"This is it. This right here. This is what life's all about."

"Aren't you a bit young to be saying things like that?"

I asked, one hundred percent certain he'd lifted the line from some Korean drama.

"That's exactly why I get to say it at my age. Back home, we can't do this sort of thing."

Well, yes. Because it's illegal.

I sipped my coffee. That distinct sickly-sweet canned-coffee flavor did not, no matter how I turned it over, seem like a good match for ramen.

"..."

Watching Jigupa lift a clump of noodles to his mouth with an expression of pure bliss, I asked:

"You like living here?"

"Hm? 'Course I do. Why else would I go out of my way to live here?"

"What's so good about it?"

At my question, Jigupa blinked at me.

"Well... it's a whole other country, isn't it?"

I mean, it wasn't as though I understood nothing. Come to think of it, I knew next to nothing about his home planet. He'd sometimes volunteer things I'd never asked about, but I'd never gone out of my way to learn more. I'd never once wanted to visit another world. Judging by how Jigupa got around Earth just fine without any life-support equipment, the environment here presumably posed no danger to him—but there was no guarantee the same held in reverse. Something present only in trace amounts might be harmless to him and lethal to me, for all anyone knew. And setting all of that aside, wouldn't the cultural gulf alone be enormous?

When I just kept staring, my face plainly unconvinced, Jigupa scratched his cheek, looking a touch embarrassed.

"Eh, I dunno. Here I can get caffeine anywhere, and I can watch my favorite dramas and movies whenever I like. Plus it's great for catching new releases, you know?"

He had a point. He had a point, but... something about the way he said it left the impression that he was dodging the real answer. Having thought that far, I decided not to press.

Crunch, crunch.

The sound of ramen being chewed right beside me came through, utterly unfiltered. Watching him, the crushed noodles somehow started to look appetizing. Against my better judgment, I picked up a piece, popped it into my mouth, and chewed. Then I took a sip of coffee.

I instantly regretted eating it.

The next day, as always, I rode the bus to school with Hayun and took my seat without much thought. Paying no mind to whatever the other kids were cheerfully chattering about, I was rummaging through my desk to get my textbook out when—

BANG.

The classroom door flew open with a crash—though truthfully, it was less a 'bang' than a full-throated 'SLAM.' I flinched and looked toward the din to find an adult standing there, face flushed an angry, mottled red. A fairly large woman.

"Ma'am!"

And from behind her came our homeroom teacher's shout. Looking her over properly, I saw that the woman wore a necklace—quite an elegant design, actually, though the expression on her face was anything but graceful, which made for a wildly lopsided picture. Her clothes told the same story: a dress emblazoned with luxury-brand logos large enough that even someone with zero eye for fashion could place them at a glance, and draped over it, the pelt of something that had unmistakably once been a wild animal. The handbag in her hand was, no doubt, fabulously expensive as well.

As her eyes swept the classroom, they locked squarely onto mine. I'd never seen her before, but I had a fair idea who she was.

Hm. I hadn't seen this one coming.

Plenty of girls had tried to give me grief over the years, but this was the first time a parent had shown up in person. Had I simply been lucky all this time? Or had this year been jinxed from the very start?

How flattering: having spotted me, the woman bore down on me without a shred of hesitation. Students in her path quietly slid out of the way—not, I suspected, out of any eagerness to help corner me, but because they'd concluded that getting entangled with this woman could only end badly. Someone had already raised a smartphone and begun recording.

Could that turn into useful evidence later?

I rose from my seat. Hayun, at the desk in front of mine, rose too when she saw me stand.

The face of the woman bearing down on me was red enough to burst. Her eyes were stretched enormous—I was half-afraid they'd pop out, and it was honestly a little frightening. Her daughter took after her in absolutely nothing. I couldn't have said which of yesterday's three was hers, but not one of them resembled this woman in the slightest.

I'd assumed she'd close the distance and start shrieking first. Instead, shattering my expectations, her hand came up first. Glancing at the smartphones pointed my way, I gave it genuine thought: take the hit, or dodge? Dodging was probably the wiser call. Anyone could slap any old caption onto a video and be done with it. If it went up under some title like 'Teaching a School Bully a Lesson,' the odds could easily tilt against me. And judging by the way the kids filming were snickering, I had no desire to perform their script for them anyway.

So as I held my gaze fixed on that thick hand swinging in—

Thump.

The hand never made it anywhere near me. It stopped midway.

"..."

Hayun was staring at the woman with an expression that asked, quite plainly, and just what do you think you're doing?

The hand that had been flying at me hung frozen midair. Hayun had blocked it with one hand, almost weightlessly. For the record, she wasn't gripping it. Clever as ever, she clearly understood that if the woman got hurt, it could end up counting seriously against her.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

The voice that left Hayun's lips was impeccably courteous and calm.

"Might I ask what seems to be troubling you?"

Only after seeing that composed face did a sliver of reason seem to return; the woman's eyes wavered.

"You bitch—"

Stare.

Hayun simply gazed at the woman still pointing her finger at me. Without blinking once.

Uh. Even I found that a little scary. My fingertips trembled slightly. It wasn't simply that the fact of Hayun being angry frightened me—the woman in front of me wasn't all that terrifying either. It was the situation itself. This was exactly the kind of moment where Hayun might find out what had happened to me yesterday.

"This child—"

Whether something in Hayun's grave expression got through to her, or whether she finally recognized Hayun's face and recalled which organization this girl belonged to, a very slight measure of sanity crept back into the woman's voice.

"She hurt my daughter yesterday."

"..."

Hayun looked at me. Her expression said she believed not one word of it.

You didn't... right?

It felt as if those exact words had reached my ears, and I very nearly whimpered.

What was I supposed to say here? If I admitted it, then it became mine, plain and simple. There had been a security camera, granted—but the problem was that it hadn't captured me alone. If they actually pressed charges and the police began hunting for the 'assailant,' that was where things could start to unravel.

Whatever my silence told her, the woman swelled with confidence.

"My daughter broke three ribs over what happened yesterday! You know that, right!?"

Actually, no, I didn't. Honestly, I figured she had it coming. A trip to the treatment center would have had her mended in a day, but apparently those girls had decided to plant themselves in a hospital instead. They'd probably gotten proper treatment too, on top of everything.

"Jieun?"

Hayun called my name, a note of bewilderment in her voice.

"..."

I deliberated for a moment, then let out a long, slow breath.

"So?"

And that was what came out of my mouth.