Conscious, Conscientious

"Suck that gut in, Mr. Stutter! SUCK, I say!! There–much better."

Deon jerked his head back. The woman's face rose so close he could count her fake freckles. Like a fly trying to pick the juiciest part of someone's leftovers, her jarring eyes bounced to every corner of his face.

"Hmm…yep," she puffed, her warm mint breath plowing into his nostrils.

She finally backed away, so Deon sucked for clean air. "Great, so are we done here already?" he pleaded.

She shook her head, her towering puff of orange hair flopping. "Far from it, Mr. Stutter. Just as I thought, your build is too lean for the macho look," she revealed, "but you're too much of a musclebrain for the pretty boy…we'll have to try out a few things…"

"No we won't! They told me you were just our Fashion Consultant!" spat Deon. "Isn't what I'm wearing fine enough?"

The woman fell dead silent for a moment, only for her long mouth to drop into a hollering laugh.

"Silly boy. Welcome to the real fighting industry!"

Her fingers curled towards him in a way Deon very much didn't prefer.

"Now get over here, forest child. I will make you."

~

Deon's scream rang clear, even through the glossy wall.

Lammy looked to the still-closed door of the office. He sat at on a padded bench across the hall from it, a glowing plant to one side of the bench and a miniature looping waterfall on the other.

"Has he never gotten measurements done?" came a thin voice.

Lammy's ears perked. Immediately, his focus migrated to the subdued figure beside him on the bench.

He knew Kotono had been sitting with him the whole time–her appointment was scheduled just after Deon's–but he'd hardly expected to hear her voice.

She hadn't spoken a word since the Special League announcement yesterday, and not before it, either; not unless someone had explicitly spoken to her first.

Sitting bundled in an oversized hoodie, she looked so light she could float away. Lammy still wasn't quite used to seeing her without the glittery makeup or the fitted short dress. Her sun-like vibrancy was absent without it, but in its place was what he could only compare to a quiet morning.

With her hair and skin both fairer than usual, he couldn't decide if their softness spoke to that of her demeanor, or if it was the other way around. Somehow it made the thought of speaking to her, and even just sitting in her presence, feel much more tangible.

Lammy found himself so caught up in the hope that he'd be able to encourage a conversation, that he nearly forgot to do so.

"He’s been fitted before…but only by my Aunt Meiv–his mom," Lammy shared.

"Alright, Mr. Stutter. De-imagine your uninspiring tunic. You won't be needing it anymore."

"BACK OFF, LADY!! I DON'T KNOW YOU!!"

Kotono glanced back at the door.

"He's actually toning it down a bit for this woman…" Lammy clarified.

A smile appeared on Kotono, but only in her mouth. Her distant eyes remained unchanged.

Lammy turned when a subtle sigh came from up the hall. Skrili was walking their way, fidgeting with her clothes and re-loosening the tie in her hair.

“Don’t get me wrong, Deon’s being overdramatic,” she commented as she joined them. “But that lady…”

Reliving her appointment, Skrili’s shudder said it all.

“Yeah…Volona c—can be a handful…” Kotono gently agreed. “I guess I’ve gotten used to it over the years.”

Skrili’s eyes caught Lammy’s. He could tell she shared the same realization as him:

Kotono was finally opening up, even the slightest bit. This could be their chance.

“So…have you worked with her for a while?” Skrili asked.

Kotono nodded. “She’s been with me since the start. And everyone else you’ll meet, too—it’s been the same crew since I was registered,” she said.

“I’m grateful the League has us working with your same management,” noted Skrili. “That must make this all a lot simpler for you.”

“Yeah…Hiroko and I come here to Volona’s office before every tournament or tour,” Kotono shared. “Hiroko always hates it…”

She fell silent, eyes to the floor.

“…S—sorry…I mean…”

When words failed and she bit her lip, Skrili quietly drew closer. She sat beside Kotono on the bench.

Lammy felt a tugging in his chest.

“Kotono,” he started, “I…I just want to make sure you know: we’re all here for –”

“Ms. Inoue!”

Lammy nearly jumped. He was so zoned in on his words he didn’t even notice the four neatly dressed men and women appear before them. One of Kotono’s massive bodyguards accompanied from a few steps back.

Kotono kept her stare on the floor like they weren’t there.

“Ms. Inoue, before your appointment starts: we noticed you forgot to sign the updated sponsorship contracts,” one woman noted.

“We also just need you to review and approve our letter to the fan club,” added a man.

Kotono nodded in silence, bringing herself to her feet. Deflated, Lammy and Skrili watched as the group began escorting their fragile friend down the hall.

The bodyguard paused for a moment, however, hovering by the bench. He turned to them and opened his mouth. But instead of finding words, he offered a weak smile and a wink before he trailed behind.

“This will just be a moment,” one of the professionals promised Kotono as they departed. “We know usually Ms. Hamasaki would remind you to take care of these things…”

When they disappeared around the corner, Skrili turned back to Lammy. Though largely inexpressive as usual, Lammy again saw what he felt reflected in her melancholy eyes.

They both let out a sigh.

So close…

The silence was brief, as the door across from the bench vanished and a familiar voice burst into the air.

“MY BUTT LOOKS ROUND ENOUGH IN THE PANTS I’M WEARING!!!” Deon bellowed, an imagined tunic still reforming around him.

“THIS ISN’T OVER, DEON STUTTER!! I’LL FIX YOU!!” came Volona’s warning.

Deon stood indignantly as the door reformed behind him, until he noticed his company.

“Oh hey! My two favorite people!” he greeted, walking over. “I’m supposed to send Kotono in now. Did she go somewhere?”

“Some people from her management—our management, I guess—took her aside to do paperwork,” Skrili explained.

“Oh. Well that sucks. Then again, at least she gets to put off dealing with the psycho in there,” Deon figured.

Lammy and Skrili fell silent to Deon’s lighthearted demeanor. Lammy wished he could muster a chuckle, but now all he could envision was the gray aura that had surrounded Kotono in the Dreamer Chamber—an emptiness he could see.

Was she just holding it in now?

“Now what do I do?” wondered Deon. “I have to send someone in next…”

His eyes glinted when they landed mischievously on Lammy.

The insinuation managed to jolt Lammy from his thoughts. “Huh?! Me?!”

“He doesn’t need to,” Skrili stressed.

Lammy nodded fervently. But while dodging a fashion session was more than relieving, he wished it could have been for a different reason.

“I’m not a part of the team, remember?” he uttered.

Deon and Skrili looked around uncomfortably.

He wished he hadn’t let the negativity in his tone slip out—after all, he was grateful Credo allowed him to tag along for this journey, especially since it meant being with Deon again. But he couldn’t help venting his frustration.

Officially, he couldn’t be a part of Team Hiroko.

It’s not like I want to fight…Lammy reminded himself. I definitely don’t want to compete in the tournaments…

Yeah…and besides, I’m a kid.

And yet, because of these past couple months in the Multiverse, because of Zayza and Layla, he knew:

Still, I have so much to offer. There’s so much I could do to help save Pang.

“Ugh…it’s so dumb!” Deon protested, his chipper attitude giving way. “You are a part of the team, Lammy. You are in Team Hiroko.”

“Absolutely. He is to us,” Skrili agreed, “but…Credo can’t add him in. He’s too young. Plus, even if he was old enough, he’s not even registered. And if you count what we’re really here to do…”

A worker passed down the hall, so Skrili trailed off warily. But she knew her companions could fill in the blanks: there was no way the Head of the League would involve a thirteen-year-old in a secret, deadly rescue mission.

Deon took a long sigh. “Ah, I know…” he yielded, “but we’ve seen you in action, Lammy, not him. We know what you’re capable of. You have the triangle just like the rest of us. You should be working with us, not that random Otogi guy they roped in…”

“‘Random Otogi guy?’ Seems like a nice dude to me,” came a voice right behind him.

Deon practically fell over. Lammy tried to warn him someone was closing in, but he couldn’t find a moment to interject. Thankfully Skrili had quieted down about their true mission before he’d gotten too close.

Collecting himself, Deon turned to face him. “Uh, no offense or anything, Otogi, it’s just that the rest of us—AH!!”

Again, Deon almost lost balance. The man before him looked nothing like Otogi, except perhaps his height. He was probably about Kotono’s age, but he may as well have seen decades pass by already. His brown eyes were sunken in, with dark circles around both of them, and flecked skin with uneven whiskers for facial hair surrounded his smile.

The young man swept aside his unkempt dirty blonde bangs and offered a wave, his big sweater sleeve drooping to his forearm.

“Sorry…I thought you were someone else,” Deon explained.

Someone a lot less…well, ugly…his uncensored thoughts chimed in.

The young man laughed patiently. He nodded towards Volona’s door. “Kotono still in her meeting?” he asked.

Oh, so he knows Kotono’s schedule, Lammy noted. He must be part of her crew.

“It hasn’t started yet,” Skrili shared. “Are you with Kotono’s management? I’m—”

“Skrili Kay, obviously. Guess the fame hasn’t hit you yet,” the man laughed. “And you’re Deon Stutter, and Lanny Stutter.”

Every time…Lammy groaned to himself. “It’s—”

“Lammy! Sorry, I really should know that by now,” the young man corrected. “So let me guess: Kotono got scooped up for something?”

The three consciousnesses nodded.

“Typical…and we have to get going soon, too…” he sighed. “Anyway, I feel like I walked in on something important. Not to impose, but I’d like to chime in.”

Abruptly, his attention shifted to Lammy.

“I agree with these guys. From what I’ve heard about Azvaylen, it would be insane to overlook what you could bring to the table. We can’t make you a pro, but when it comes to facing Proscious…I think you’ll be invaluable.”

Lammy, Deon, and Skrili’s eyes all shot wide.

Wait…he knows why we’re really here? Lammy’s mind stormed. Then he can’t be from Kotono’s management; they’re not in the loop. If he knows something like that, he must be with Credo…

“I say we all do whatever it takes to convince him, Lammy, as long as that’s what you want,” the young man concluded. “Right guys?”

Deon and Skrili exchanged puzzled glances. Of course he was right, but…who was he?

Deon nearly asked, but again, a worker passed them by. He bit his tongue.

The man pulled out a sleek silver TeamTrack and checked the screen.

“It’s nice to finally talk to you guys a bit,” he said, “but we’ve gotta get going soon. We’ll hang out more on the ship.”

Finally, Deon saw at least the semblance of an understanding spark in Skrili’s face. “Oh—are you here to lead us there or something?” she checked.

But again, the young man laughed. “Uh, no. I’m happy to do so, though! Come on—Kotono’s guards are gonna want to escort her, anyway. She’ll meet up with us there.”

He turned and began his departure. Trading uncertain gazes, Lammy, Deon, and Skrili followed.

But Lammy’s feet dragged, a force in his mind tugging back at him as he walked. He looked over his shoulder, back to where Kotono had been ushered off.

Just as he did, an exclamation from Volona came muffled through the wall:

“Oh, THERE you are, my angelic little doll! Why are you using the back door?”

It assured Lammy’s mind a bit to know that Kotono’s paperwork was behind her now, but with every step, his heart thumped heavier.

That smile she’d given him was so forced.

“I know, bud, I’m hung up on it, too,” Deon said gently beside him. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“It’s not the team thing on my mind…” Lammy dismissed. “It’s—”

“Kotono,” Deon finished. “That’s what I was talking about.”

“Oh…wait…you have a plan?”

“What’s so wrong with that? I can be smart too,” Deon retorted. “I won’t give away too much yet. But…it’s already in the works.”

“Hm…alright, I trust you,” Lammy decided. “But hey…are you okay?”

Still relaxed, Deon’s mouth curled in thought. “Me? Sure.”

While Deon didn’t notice, Lammy caught Skrili’s purple gaze studying her partner. In that moment, he understood just how close the two really were: she sensed it, too.

He was far from okay.

I’m one to talk, though…Lammy knew.

It persisted in his memory like a scar: the flashing white lights that decimated Hiroko’s body. He couldn’t get it out.

“You guys didn’t request any bodyguards from management yet?” came their guide’s observation. “Well, I’ve got my personal ones here, anyway. Borrow mine.”

Lammy remembered the walking fortress of men that surrounded Kotono back in the halls of Gloat Stadium. The one he’d just seen moments ago must have been even taller than Phillip.

Why would we need that here? Seems a little over the top for a bunch of offices, he thought.

As they neared the towering, clear front doors of the office building, four men nearly as large emerged from the corners to meet the young man, all dressed in white suit jackets. He simply gestured back to Lammy and the rest, and two of the guards repositioned to walk on either side of them.

“Alan,” the lead guard greeted, “they’re already out there expecting to see you—the other you. Press must have trailed our transport.”

Alan shrugged. “Oh, well. They already put in the effort; I’ll indulge them a bit.”

The guard nodded, pressing his ear. “He’s switching,” he sent to an unseen recipient.

Another guard checked all around the hall. “You’re clear,” he signaled.

As they all continued walking, Alan removed a small mirror from his pocket. When he brought it to eye-level, Lammy could see his face from behind.

His sunken eyes found Lammy’s, and he winked.

Wait a second…realized Lammy.

The mirror glowed, and Lammy, Deon, and Skrili bumped into each other as they stopped to shield their eyes from the increasing light. After one last flash he could see even through pressed eyelids, Lammy blinked his vision back.

Alan was no longer there—or rather, he was—but nothing aside from his height and smile remained. In place of his loose clothes were a sleek black outfit, magenta shoes, and a hat tilted coolly to the side. His hair had gone from a shaggy dirty blonde to straight and pink.

He returned the mirror to his pocket and posed, removing his sunglasses to reveal a spotless face glowing with the perfection of a painting. His brown eyes had turned into a distinct black with white lining.

“RANDOM OTOGI GUY?!” Deon shouted.

“You can try to get a little more personal,” Otogi laughed. “But yeah, I guess I hadn’t shown you guys my secret yet. Right now I’m the star known across the Multiverse…but that was my real identity a second ago.”

As they neared the door, Lammy noticed a cluster of people crowding it and holding a variety of devices. Two more guards in white stood before them, waiting to widen the path.

“The truth is, I’m really just an everyday, down-to-earth guy with a dream,” Otogi explained. “This persona helps me distance myself from the crazy fame that comes with the gig. It keeps me humble.”

He turned to his guards.

“Hey, they have the toast ready on the ship, right?” he checked calmly.

“I’ll check with your cooks,” the head guard replied. “Wheat bread, right?”

“Multi-grain, Brendan,” said Otogi. “It’s Tuesday, remember?”

“Right, right. Sorry. On it.”

Deon leaned in close to Lammy’s ear. “You think his personal cooks are just as down-to-earth?” he muttered.

Skrili elbowed his side, so he shot up straight before his sly grin could muster a laugh out of Lammy.

But while Lammy was reluctant to judge the man who seemed on board for getting him involved in the mission, he had to agree with Deon. If Kotono’s management came built-in with a team of bodyguards for all of them, did Otogi really need to bring his own around, too?

Was he that big of a deal?

“So…Alan, then?” Skrili clarified.

“Otogi’s fine. Let’s keep it simple.”

When they reached the doors, the bodyguards urged them to stay close. The guards on the other side pushed forward, forcing the crowd backwards.

And only when the doors opened did Lammy realize just how many people were waiting there.

The screams and cheers hit him even before the chill of the open air. He could hardly look where they were walking, but peering between the outspread arms of the bodyguards, he witnessed bright eyes, signs, and waving hands as far as he could see.

He couldn’t have anticipated this many people—after all, much like Gloat Center, this subtle office building levitated high in the sky. He wondered if its location was meant to be a deterrence—but if so, today, it wasn’t working. Clearly, the trip into the air was worth it to all these people for this brief moment.

“MAKE WAY!” a bodyguard repeated, clearly the ten-thousandth time he’d needed to do so in his career.

“OTOGI!! OTOGI!!!”

“LOOK AT ME, PLEASE!!!”

“IS KOTONO WITH YOU?! ARE YOU GUYS REALLY DATING?!”

The people with devices Lammy had noticed earlier flocked as close as they could, fighting the unwavering fence of guards while bumping against fans.

“OTOGI! Just one quick word, please!!”

“A comment on Hiroko, Otogi!”

As they walked through the storm of voices, Lammy knew he’d found his answer tenfold: Otogi was most definitely that big of a deal.

But his fascination came from a much more unexpected realization:

Apparently, so were the three of them.

“SKRILI KAY! I LOVE YOU!!”

“Skrili: any thoughts on Pang’s whereabouts?”

“DEON! Is this your little brother?! He’s so adorable!!”

Deon wrapped his arm around Lammy’s shoulder. “Ladies, ladies—he’s taken!” he declared proudly. “By a Queen!”

“HUH?!”

Lammy beat red and shielded his face behind the guards. Please shut up, Deon…

They paused for a moment when Otogi spotted a child and agreed to sign a poster of himself. Then, thankfully, they approached what Lammy knew must be their ride.

Though upon first glance, he was at a loss for understanding how it had been able to get here.

The vessel almost didn’t even fit on the landing pad where it rested. In fact, it was nearly the size of the ten-floor building they’d just exited. It was an equal mystery how it balanced there, as well: the ship was oval-shaped, like an elongated egg, sitting in perfectly in place. Light from the Fantasy Country sky reflected against the circular windows all over its cloud-colored outer surface.

As far as Lammy could tell, it was quite a feat of ingenuity—and most likely magic. But if he recalled correctly, weren’t they about to leave to another Country? Why would they need a vessel so extravagant only to get to the Worldline?

When the shade of the ship’s shadow befell them all, the bodyguards finally opened up their tight circle of protection. Lammy noticed a metal barricade form behind them to keep the still-chirping crowd at bay.

Credo stood waiting for them just before the ship, along with several other adults Lammy didn’t recognize. Emerging from off to the side of the shaded ground—much like a shadow, himself—Phillip stepped forward to join them.

But his gloom was somehow different now. If a shadow could be decorated and prettied, it would better match his current appearance.

“Bro, why are you still wearing your outfit from your fashion meeting?” Deon laughed.

Phillip’s black and white theme remained intact, only now with a few more bells and whistles: his shirt featured some sort of designer logo, fitting his long build perfectly, and the spikes in his hair were angled in a manner much less random than usual. A silver chain hung around his neck, and another from his jean belt.

“Am I not allowed to appreciate high fashion?” he retorted, the light makeup on his face accentuating his annoyance.

Everybody did little more than stand around for a minute or two. But then with a sudden blink of blue light, a circle of guards in black appeared, including the one who snuck a wink at Lammy and Skrili earlier. Kotono emerged from within their cover as the guards’ backs concealed her from the spectators’ view.

Now SHE knows how to avoid a crowd…Lammy noted.

Credo stepped forward, a smile of pride beneath his green beard as he observed the new team and all of their present crew.

“Well, here we are. It looks like all of your pre-tour matters are squared away,” he said to them. “I’ll need to travel separately so I can properly oversee the main League, as well. But since this team was my conception, I thought it necessary that I at least send you off.”

Lammy knew some of that was a lie for Kotono’s management: he was sure Credo did have to oversee the League, but as he told them in private, his separate travel wasn’t for that.

It was to begin the hunt.

“Step forward,” Credo beckoned.

Deon, Skrili, Otogi, Phillip, and Kotono approached. But remembering his current place in the group, Lammy decided it best to stay put.

That was, until Deon’s hand returned to tug him forward. With a smile, he pointed to the triangle tattoo under his eye.

Lammy found his footing. Confidently, he followed his cousin and joined the rest of the team.

Credo’s eyes befell each of them.

“What started as a celebration and furtherance of our League’s success, has now taken on a meaning that lives up to its name even more,” he said. “Plenty of folks urged me to postpone. But by launching the Special League, we prove that we will not be intimidated by hate—that we will stand together.”

His eyes shined. “And you, Team Hiroko, are our symbol. You’re the proof that we will not let a single pro fall away. I know that none of you take that lightly.”

The group of consciousnesses nodded, both to him and each other.

Credo turned and raised his hand out to the ship behind them.

“So as you enter this Special Team ship, make it your home,” he said. “Wherever it takes you, hold your heads high and smile. Wear those triangles proudly. And I’ll see you all, our beacon of hope, at the first tournament.”

Otogi gave a fond smirk. “Yep…the plainest Country, but the quirkiest place to host an event,” he said.

“That’s right,” confirmed Credo. “Next stop: Normal Country.”