Conscious, Conscientious

“Hey Deon, come in here.”

Skrili’s voice had echoed from their bathroom down the hall. Deon rose from one of the kitchen’s bar stools, surprised to learn Skrili was still in there getting ready—she typically needed less time than him.

“What’s wrong?” Deon grunted in the midst of a stretch.

“Just get in here.”

He gazed out the round windows along the way, admiring the vastness of the outer space beyond them while he still could. Since the team ship departed Earth overnight, they were likely near the Worldline connecting them back to No Man’s Land.

“Hey Skrili, wanna help me make my signature look cool after this?” Deon asked, passing by the entertainment area and hot tub. “One of my fans in the signing said it looked like ‘weird ancient writing or something,’ so I…uh…”

He reached the lavish bathroom, his eyes adjusting to the brightness reflecting off the pearl flooring and walls. But he succumbed to silent perplexity as he observed Skrili.

She stood facing the mirror, holding her hair above her head. Her expressionless eyes found him in the reflection.

“Did you forget how to tie your hair up, or something?” Deon questioned.

“Come stand behind me.”

Shrugging, Deon obeyed. A familiar Tailpiece scent, earthy and crisp, met him as he drew close: the soap he’d packed when he left home. It turned out it lasted all this time, probably thanks to the free accommodations both here and at the Hotel of Champions during the tournament.

In favor of those luxuries, Deon had largely dismissed those homemade toiletries. But it seemed Skrili had taken a liking to them.

“Here,” she said.

Metal met Deon’s palm, and he found she’d handed him a pair of scissors. Skrili pointed just below the point where her hand held up her hair.

“Cut through there for me.”

“HUH?!?!”

Skrili didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she blink.

Deon stood wordless. If he cut at the point she’d indicated, her hair wouldn’t even fall long enough to reach her shoulders.

“Uh…you’re joking, right? Is this some kind of test?”

“Just do it. Please.”

“But…uh…” Deon stammered, regretting that he’d begun speaking before scraping up anything to say. “V—Volona! She’ll be so pissed if we do this without her permission!”

“She’ll shape it up later and get over it,” Skrili countered. “And I thought you didn’t care about her opinion.”

“Well, for me, I don’t,” Deon mumbled.

“Deon. Just cut it.”

He raised the scissors and gazed at them, and then at her midnight blue locks. “You…really sure you want me to?”

“It’s more that I need you to.”

“Why?” Deon questioned. “Wait a sec…Otogi showed me and Lammy one of those ‘anime’ last night, and the main girl did the same thing. Skrili…are you…having a character moment?!”

“Stop being weird!” Skrili bellowed. Gathering herself, she sighed. “It’s a Shfi custom.”

Finally, Deon eased up.

“When a Shfi girl turns eighteen, she’s supposed to cut her hair short to signify that she’s become a woman. It symbolizes the start of a new calling,” Skrili explained. “Other familial responsibilities come with it if she’s not married yet, but those don’t really apply to me anymore.”

‘Familial…’ Deon contemplated. Whatever those responsibilities were, his heart twisted at the fact that she would never get to fulfill them.

But then, the first part struck him even harder.

“Wait…WE MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY?!” he realized in horror. “When was it?! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I…don’t know the exact day,” Skrili admitted. “But when I looked at the Multiverse date on my TeamTrack this morning, I realized it’s the start of fall in my reality right around now. So it probably passed a few weeks ago.”

Deon’s mind raced with a new mission. “We have to do something! The grocery room downstairs has a bakery area, right? Give me a sec…I’ll get the team together and we’ll—”

“Stop trying to stall,” Skrili accused.

Her hand remained in place, her hair ready.

But when Deon still couldn’t bring himself to move, she sighed again.

“The mother is supposed to do it,” revealed Skrili. “And if she can’t, it’s the oldest sister. So a while back, I decided I’d ask Pang, but…well, if that’s not an option…”

From the mirror, her gaze enveloped him.

“…Then I’m supposed to go with the most positive influence in my life,” she finished. “That’s why I’m picking you.”

Deon’s face warmed. If he wasn’t holding scissors, he might wrap his arms around her.

But that wasn’t what she wanted right now.

“It’s not like you to hesitate,” she urged.

“Sorry…it’s just...well, your long hair looks amazing on you, that’s all.”

He finally managed to say it. He stiffened at how trivial it sounded coming out, but it was the truth.

As far as he was concerned, Skrili didn’t need to change a thing about her. So why should she? This was the girl he wanted.

“It’s really important to me. Please, Deon.”

His preferences couldn’t possibly hold weight against that. And yet, even as he tried to raise the scissors closer, he froze.

“Deon—”

A buzz rattled on the countertop. Skrili’s TeamTrack lit up with an incoming call.

“It’s Skip,” Deon noticed, peaking over her.

Skrili’s shoulders lowered. “Fine.” Reluctantly, she released her hair and let it fall down her back. “I guess we’ll talk about this later.”

Guilt set in as Deon realized just how relieved he was to hear that. He placed the scissors aside while Skrili positioned her TeamTrack by the sink and answered.

“Hey, Skip.”

Their Legend Trainer’s head arose as a small projection. By the slightest view of his bowtie, Deon could tell he once again sported his signature suit.

“Skrili! Deon! Awesome fight last night!” he applauded. “The Team Special is looking so tight—all of you are, for that matter.”

Deon took a moment to bask in his compliment. The countless he’d received from fans and media last night were invigorating, but just one from Skip outweighed them all: Skip knew what it really took them to get here.

“Thanks, man! You saw it?”

“Of course. I tuned in to the broadcast,” said Skip. “Because if I HADN’T, I wouldn’t have known whether or not you two were still SAFE…”

He stared. It was the same hard look he’d given them last time, before he’d asked them to call every day.

Once again, they’d forgotten to reach out a single time.

Deon and Skrili exchanged sheepish glances through the mirror.

“Whoops…” Deon muttered.

“We’re sorry, Skip,” Skrili said earnestly. “We—no, there’s no excuse.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Skip’s frustration softened Deon’s heart this time, brewing an odd blend of guilt and comfort. Skip understood the demons they faced behind the ruse of fame, and only he understood. Now, having faced Proscious again only hours before, this connection to his teacher felt all the more tangible.

Through a sigh of momentary relief, Skip finally smiled at them. “It’s okay, guys. I’m just glad you haven’t had any more run-ins with them.”

Deon and Skrili’s second exchange of glances must have tipped him off. Skip’s smile collapsed.

“RIGHT, guys…?”

“So um, about that—” Deon started.

“Come on, I begged you!”

Skrili shook her head. “It’s not like that!” she assured. “They came to us.”

“Exactly. Like I said they would,” said Skip. “And I’m gonna take a wild guess that you guys didn’t avoid them. Am I right?”

Skrili fell wordless.

“Nope. You probably confronted them. Didn’t think twice. Am I right?”

The stare returned.

“Well…it was just one guy. He ran away,” Deon tried. “We totally would’ve won.”

Clearly, Skip wasn’t impressed.

With his chances to save this interaction dwindling, Deon raised his arms up in display. “Look, Skip! We’re fine, aren’t we?”

“It doesn’t matter. They know you and your cousin have special powers. And the rest of your supergroup is a threat to them. They want your powers, they want your friends dead, and they will not stop until they have those things. Mark my words.”

“Then mark my words: bring it on!” Deon huffed. “We’re luring them out so we can figure out where Pang is. That’s the whole plan!”

At least, that was how Lammy broke it down for him after their discussion with Credo. But even the presence of a strategy didn’t move Skip. The Trainer’s frown only grew more somber.

“Guys. Listen to me carefully,” he begged. “Don’t think you can outsmart Proscious. That’s why I couldn’t get my teammate back. But maybe there’s still time for you, so please…just…stop.”

His voice softened to a tender plea. It ended broken, barely audible through the speaker.

“I can’t go through that again.”

Skrili’s grip tightened on the counter, her eyes hard.

“You taught us our relationships are everything,” she said evenly. “Skip…you know we have to find her.”

Deon nodded. “Yeah! And we can still save your old teammate!”

“You can’t, because Pyper doesn’t WANT to be saved!!”

Before the snap of Skip’s transmitted voice finished reverberating through the bathroom, Deon could tell he’d realized what he just said. His face turned red, visible even through the hologram. His eyes darted away.

“So…her name’s Pyper,” Deon learned.

“No, uh…”

He failed to piece together a lie, his silence further affirming the revelation.

“We’ll find her, Skip,” Skrili promised tenderly.

“Anyway…I actually just realized…” their teacher muttered, “I meant to head to the village and buy some tea. Let’s…talk later…”

“Skip—” attempted Deon.

“A hundred laps.”

“Huh?! Around what?!”

“Figure it out. A hundred laps before I call you back. Bye.”

His image flickered out from the bathroom sink.

“Uh…can he really make us do that?” wondered Deon.

Skrili shrugged. “That’s not what matters,” she said. “If you think about it, everything he warned us about Proscious has turned out to be true so far. It sounds like he tried to save Pyper before. If we could get him to open up, his information might help us find them both.”

“True…but good luck cracking that egg,” Deon emphasized.

Skrili sighed in agreement. “But we have to try.”

“It’s fine, we already have a plan,” Deon reminded her. “And that plan comes with a giant ship! And a hot tub!”

“You spend way too much time in that hot tub.”

“It’s good for the soul!” Deon preached, basking in the very idea of another dip tonight, perhaps with her in his arms. “Call it my ritual.”

“That reminds me…” Skrili began.

Uh-oh.

To Deon’s hardly-concealed dismay, her hand reached for the scissors on the sink.

With pressing eyes, she offered them to him.

It’s still on her mind, huh…? Deon lamented.

“Well…you heard the man!” he stammered. “A hundred laps!!”

“What?”

Deon propelled for the bathroom door. Guilt nearly slowed his escape—but the thought of chopping those perfect deep-blue locks only refueled his adrenaline.

“Hey!”

Now speeding through the brief hallway, he could hear her much faster steps closing in. Skrili dashed at him, scissors held high like a sword.

“GAH!! Skrili, it’s impolite to run with scissors!!”

“Just do it, you dummy!!”

“WAIT! Can’t we give this some time?! This is a serious moment for me!”

“For YOU?!! Just get over here!!”

~~~

Lammy furrowed his brow. He didn’t expect to be this curious so early into the practice session. After all, they’d all just gotten here a moment ago. But the source of his curiosity was even more unexpected.

“Deon…why are you already so out of breath?” Mr. Truj inquired beside him.

That was the exact question Lammy was about to ask. He watched from the side of the massive training gym as his cousin practically crawled up onto the matted platform in a heap of gasps.

“That’s what happens when you get chased all the way down the ship…” he accused, shooting a glare behind him.

Perfectly poised, Skrili stepped onto the platform. Her pout was perhaps more defined than usual as she finished tying up her hair.

“At least you put the WEAPON away…” Deon shot.

“For now. I’m not done with you,” warned Skrili.

Lammy gulped on his cousin’s behalf. Maybe it was for the best that Layla was so far away—relationships out here in the Multiverse seemed dangerous.

No…he couldn’t kid himself.

In between pondering Proscious’s schemes, focusing on the Special League face-offs, and assimilating to this strange, luxurious life, Lammy found his mind kept orbiting back to the same memory.

When Layla’s voice had reached him through his magic necklace, it was so close.

So…calming.

Especially given how abruptly their last call had ended, cutting off as this ship passed into a reality too incompatible for magic, Lammy realized he’d been looking forward to their next call every day.

But it hit him again.

Wait—it’s not like that!!

We’re just ‘technically’ engaged, that’s all…

Wait—no we’re not, are we?!

He shook his head so suddenly, Mr. Truj took notice.

“Is something wrong? Are you struggling to piece a new strategy together?” he assumed.

Lammy wished. At least that was something he could figure out. Though Mr. Truj’s abrupt shift in mindset still felt odd, he welcomed the invitation back into the much more familiar world of competition.

Mr. Truj leaned closer eagerly, raising what looked to Lammy like a larger, thinner TeamTrack. Some sort of chart was displayed on the screen, with cartoonish drawings of Team Hiroko’s heads in a variety of positions.

“Don’t worry, champ. I’ll show you the ropes to proper Consciousness League coaching,” he assured. “You’ve already got a knack for this, so you’ll catch on. Between your instinct and my expertise, Team Hiroko will be undefeatable from now on.”

Lammy accepted a hearty fist-bump from the coach.

Man…I help him win once, and apparently now I’m an ‘assistant coach’ instead of a bother, Lammy thought.

But he wasn’t about to question it.

Lammy had achieved his goal, defeating Mr. Truj’s doubt much sooner than he expected. Now, it was time to make the most of it.

A well of top-League wisdom was now at his disposal. Not only was he finally in his element—he was about to grow even stronger.

Team Hiroko was about to grow stronger.

Over on the mats, one of Mr. Truj’s assistants began guiding the team in a series of warm-up stretches and exercises. All five of them moved with the same hard, focused energy. Lammy could feel their electricity.

Everyone’s giving it their all, he admired.

He was confident the same went for Zayza back in Hidakala, and Layla in Azvaylen.

Lammy touched his hand to the triangle tattoo on his cheek.

Time to do my part.

“Mr. Truj, would it be alright if I see your stats for their next opponent?” he inquired. “I’ve been cooking up some ideas I want to pitch to you.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” smirked Mr. Truj. “Here, let me pull it up…”

While Mr. Truj loaded the data, Lammy flipped through a new notebook he’d already filled with scribbles. The strategies he’d accumulated on this trip whirled past his eyes, only adding more flames to the fire in his mind.

This League was the perfect way to field-test them all.

If any of these techniques worked against Special League opponents, they were all the more likely to succeed against Proscious.

Last time, we fought them with barely any experience as a group, he contemplated. Next time…they’ll be fighting a perfected unit.

The REAL fight is coming. And this time, we’ll come home with EVERYONE.

~

“Welcome to the Fantasy Country skies. You might spot Conscious City below us for the next few moments. We’ll be reaching the Realistic Fiction Country border by evening.”

Lammy yawned, reclaiming his glass of water now that the brief turbulence had subsided. His eyes adjusted to the much more familiar vibrancy of the Fantasy Country color palate.

It summoned both fondness and anxiety within him, as memories of his travels here with Zayza blended with those of Hiroko’s mourning ceremony.

Lammy checked out the nearest window of his bedroom. Judging by the pale blue sky, it was earlier here than the No Man’s Land afternoon they’d just left behind. He was relieved the agency went by this reality’s time for today’s schedule—it allowed him a chance to catch up on sleep for once.

…Not that he made much use of it.

Once again, Lammy had stayed up late reducing the available pages in his notebook. Every time he thought he could rest, another idea had popped into his mind.

Such had been the case for the past couple days, ever since his first practice as an assistant coach. No matter how many attacks and formations he thought up, Mr. Truj wanted to hear it all—and Deon was all the more eager to put it to the test.

It was invigorating.

But now, with Realistic Fiction Country less than a day away, time was almost up before their next fight.

Wait a second—it’s gonna take this ship hours to get there, Lammy realized. When I teleported from the bottom of Realistic Fiction to Fantasy Country, how far in did I send us?! It only took a week to walk here!

On top of that, since they had less time before the next fight (and less training to do), the ship appeared to be flying much faster than the last trip.

I should really figure out my powers…Lammy knew. Especially if I can do THAT.

He considered flipping to the secret ‘For Proscious-Only’ section of his notes to factor in that ability, but it was pointless for now. He had to be at the next practice session in an hour—there was no time to sit figuring out a power he’d only used once, by accident.

Lammy set his notebook aside, along with his now-empty glass.

Fantasy Country, huh?

Reclining in the living room chair, he found himself gazing down at the magical necklace dangling over his chest. He brought it into his palms.

Should I…try talking to her…?

Lammy felt his face turn red.

Then, perhaps in sync, the pink gem began glowing bright. His heart skipped.

Wait!! I didn’t think it would actually—

“Noble Lammy?”

There she was. And an accident though it was, Lammy savored the sound of the young Queen’s voice echoing in his head.

He blinked to gather himself. “Uh…Layla, hey. Um…sorry if you’re busy. I didn’t know—”

“Oh—you were about to call me, too?”

“Huh?”

“How lovely…Noble Lammy, it’s as if our hearts are connected.”

Lammy was pretty sure he’d been reduced to jelly, until he noticed his body intact.

Then again, maybe his vision had gone hazy, because a pink-hued form of Layla’s face now floated before his.

Right…Lammy gathered. I’m in a Fantasy Country reality. The magic works more like it’s supposed to.

Layla’s smile curled wider, and she looked more like her sister than Lammy had ever seen.

“Uh…how’s…your day…?” Lammy attempted.

Man, I’m bad at this.

“I fair well…You know, Noble Lammy, you should hurry up and defeat Proscious a bit faster. I’m dying to fly on Loozooloozeux again.”

That’s the only reason I should hurry?!

“Well…Okay, I’ll try, Layla.”

“Oh! How silly of me. I forgot I’m calling you for a reason,” the Queen recalled. “I received word from Zayza.”

Finally, Lammy surfaced from his dizzied state. “You did?”

“I left behind communication magic for her, as well,” she revealed. “She had quite the startling news, and she wished for me to relay it to you as soon as possible.”

Why do I have a feeling Zayza found out about the communication magic the same way I did? Lammy supposed.

“Wait…‘startling?’” he repeated. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“She is well, but…are you alone, Noble Lammy?” Layla checked. “Only you can hear me, but…your reaction…I fear it might…”

Lammy’s heart sunk. Scared for what it might lead to, he nodded.

“Very well. Please listen carefully, Noble Lammy,” the small Queen began. “Zayza uncovered that—”

An explosion rang out clearly. It must have happened close behind her. Layla winced, but appeared unharmed as her hair blew from the ensuing gust.

“My Queen! Separatists strike from the North!”

Fewpar’s voice.

“Layla!” Lammy cried.

“All is well, Noble Lammy.”

Her voice stunned him—instantly, the sharp, calculated tone he’d heard in their battles together had returned.

“We will have to discuss this later,” she decided. “Regrettably, I have matters to attend to. I shall return.”

“S—stay safe!”

Lammy was unsure if his request reached her, as her face vanished along with the pink glow from his necklace. He was left in the silence with a still-lingering blush.

She’s pretty incredible, huh?

Deciding it best to have the same confidence in her that she fought to portray, Lammy trusted she would endure her conflict.

But a further uncertainty set in: if she couldn’t contact him again before they entered Realistic Fiction Country, would she be able to reach him?

Had he missed his chance to receive the message?

Zayza…he worried. What happened in Hidakala?