XCEL

“The lights, they’re fading…” Rinkaku Harigane teetered back on his feet and collapsed onto the sofa, which harrumphed on impact and puffed a cloud of dust that infiltrated his eyes, nose and mouth. He spluttered and coughed for dear life, before giving up and lying supine, one leg draped over the chair’s arm, one arm splayed out over the floor. Frayed strands of hair tickled his nose as his head naturally tilted towards the floor, but he didn’t have the energy to move it. “Oh, I’m so tired I could die…”

Ever since their return to the Harigane Homestead two days ago, Granny had expressly forbid them from leaving. This wasn’t any normal curfew, either. The old woman’s “House Rules” meant they literally couldn’t venture beyond the garden wall. Needless to say, once the cabin fever started gripping at his heels, he had both tried and failed to escape, much to everyone else’s amusement. There was no barrier, no wall to be punched through, but a literal restriction that physically prevented his location from moving beyond an arbitrary spherical boundary around the house. Ordinarily, he could have just tunnelled through the floor with Framework however for the most part, their psychic abilities had also been sealed, meaning Rin had little option but to comply. Otherwise, he would’ve engineered at least ten different escape passages by now—all hidden in plain sight, of course.

To keep them busy, Granny had assigned each a strict regime of healthy eating, regular exercise, meditation, and household chores. Once again, the enforcement of her Specialty meant they had no other choice. That was why Rin was dressed in a frilly and elaborate black maid outfit—which he for the life of him could not remove—and was now perishing in the living room at six o’clock in the evening. His hands were raw and soaked and stunk of diluted bleach. His trusty feather duster had grown exponentially heavier over the course of the day. He gripped it faintly in a hand that had long since lost all sensation, all strength.

Rin now sorely regretted designing Granny such a nice house. He imagined it something similar to getting your child a pet as a present, then having to clean up after it for the rest of its life in their stead. Enough sympathy for others, though: more people needed to be sympathetic to him! As the unfortunate outfit suggested, he had been assigned the task of deep cleaning the entire house along with Juusei, who was about as much help as a raccoon on speed. Something about Granny’s expression made the task suspiciously (one might even say purposefully) Sisyphean. The confines only made the girl’s hyperactivity worse. Juusei had spent most of the last few days bouncing off the walls like a pinball. Rin had darted around after her trying to save any valuable trinkets knocked off their perches in the process while avoiding becoming collateral. From the sounds of assorted chaos upstairs, it seemed Juusei was currently re-enacting the latest typhoon in the second-floor bathroom.

He’d have to clean that up later. Oh joy.

“Off-shift already, Miss Rin?” Kinuka descended the stairs at the other end of the room, an expensive ballgown dangling in front of her. She had been assigned repair of Granny’s wardrobe from years of moth infestations, and had been permitted use of her Threadwork to make the task a little easier. “Up and at ‘em, girl. You don’t want to be laying around when Granny comes back.”

Rin groaned. Favouritism already. It hadn’t been a month.

“Did you know what actually causes holes to appear in clothes?” Kinuka rambled, her fingers weaving like a harpist through the silk. Threads danced and coiled around her hands, sewing themselves into seamless form once more. “Everyone attributes it to clothes moths, and it was once the case, but most fabrics nowadays are far too synthetic and processed for real moths to take any interest, but the effect remains. Turns out there’s a Clothes-Moth Phenomenon that just likes eating clothes. Not just your cotton or linen, either. It’ll chow down on polyester and nylon given half a chance. It was just sitting there in Granny’s closet munching away on one of her shirt sleeves. Can you believe it? Just a little guy in a moth costume, about four feet high. I tried reasoning with it for hours. Eventually I had to resort to threats for it to leave.” She sighed. “I’ve only managed to fix four of her dresses since. It’s surprisingly difficult, you know.”

Rin ignored her, pretending to be asleep (or dead, whichever was funnier.)

Kinuka pouted. “Wakey wakey, Cinderello.” She tugged at the white lacy detail strapped tight over his head. The elastic stretched then slapped at the skin, eliciting a sharp cry. He groaned and rolled off the sofa with a thud, mumbling expletives into the carpet. She rolled him over with her foot and gazed down into the boy’s dark eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Put this on and try cleaning up after a rampaging lunatic for forty-eight hours straight, then come talk to me,” he grumbled. “Are you okay?” He mocked, then pulled at the dress she was working on.

“You’ve done a good job. I guess this is how the feudal servants must have felt.”

“About time you started learning some empathy,” she chortled. “Besides, that costume looks really cute on you!”

It had been her idea: punishment for Rin’s vehement protest that his foreseeable future be spent in domestic drudgery. Kinuka had sewn his arms and legs together and composed the outfit from scratch, a wicked gleam in her eye as she dressed him in embarrassing detail from head to toe. Worse still, everyone else was watching. His cheeks had never burned so bright.

“Just you wait until I have enough energy to get my hands on you,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy!” Kinuka thumbed her nose at him, taunting. She yelped as the world was taken out from underneath her. Rin had snatched her ankle and yanked her down to the floor. Concentration lost, the gown drifted to the side as the pair wrestled furiously with one another. They rolled over and over, rumpling up Granny’s rug and tugging at each other’s clothing.

The years fell away, until they were romping about just as they had done at six years old, with all the childish rough-and-tumble. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing had changed. Everything was as it was. A warmth surged between them, blossoming into giddy smiles on both their faces. Kinuka giggled like a mad woman as she wove Rin’s arms together above his head, rendering him helpless to the onslaught of merciless tickling that followed. The boy squealed in agony and desperately shook her away, wriggling like an electrocuted sardine. Eventually he summoned enough strength to snap the thread binding, seize her around the middle, and rolled on top of her, pinning her wrists with both hands.

Only then, she stopped. Kinuka’s blond hair, free and wavy, cascaded over the floor. Rin’s thick black mop waterfalled down around his face, six inches from hers. Their heavy breathing met in the space between, chests rising and falling against one another. The reality of the situation dawned simultaneously. A heavy blush rose in Kinuka’s cheeks, and Rin’s eyes widened.

“Nope!” Suddenly pushing off the floor, Rin catapulted himself backwards and skidded on his ass to a halt against one of the sofas. “Jeez,” he murmured, glaring across the room. “Was that your plan all along? For crying out loud…”

“No! Rin, I—” Kinuka raised herself onto her elbows, and blinked. She murmured something, but shook it free from her subconscious.

A knock from the front door mercifully detracted both their attention. Rin hopped to his feet as quick as a whip and shuffled over into the foyer, Kinuka silently on his heels. Rin unlocked the door and slid it open.

“I’m home!” Granny trilled, shaking some water off her coat. “Goodness me, is that you, Rinkaku dear?” She peered up at him from under the cowl.

Rin sighed. “What do you think?”

Her answer was a loud bamboo thwack on his head, and Rin crumpled to the floor. Ruri Karakusa followed in after the matriarch, stooping underneath the low ceiling of the veranda. They clutched a basket of winter flowers under one arm, a pair of shears in the other. Parts of the giant’s face, their hands, knees and elbows of their jeans were caked in mud. Ruri had taken an interest in gardening, and so had spent the chilly day outdoors managing the borders without complaint.

“Is my house spotless yet, Rinkaku?” Granny demanded, absent-mindedly draping Kinuka in her coat.

“Last time I checked, yeah. I’ve been on my hands and knees all day.” Rin gingerly rubbed the comical Looney-Tunes sized lump that had formed on his head. “Do bear in mind you still have a dust devil loose upstairs.” A distant whoop and crash of pottery timely illustrated his point. Rin shrugged his shoulders with a “what did you think would happen, you daft old bat?” kind of expression he dared not voice lest Granny’s cane actually gave him a concussion this time. “Where did you go?”

“To pick up a few odds and ends for supper, dear. I’m just about to start cooking.” She held up a bag of groceries, then listed her remaining itinerary off her fingers. “Had to pay the loan sharks a visit, pay my respects at the shrine—”

“Hold up, loan sharks?” Rin raised an eyebrow. “What the hell—Granny, are you in some kind of debt?”

“Don’t be silly dear. They’re good friends of mine.” She chuckled. “Besides, if anything they owe me money. No, this time I went to visit someone in particular.”

“Are you going to tell us? Or is this going to be some kind of game-show.”

Granny ignored him. “When you all told me about the phenomena you’ve encountered, I was reminded of an old rumour. There reportedly exists a mysterious stitch-faced debtor who can facilitate any kind of deal. He’s said to act as an intermediary of sorts, giving advice on how to negotiate with others: helpful if you’re dealing with troublesome clients at work, relationship issues, or suchlike. But he only appears when you need him. Interestingly enough, that’s according to his discretion, not yours.”

“You went to see him?” Kinuka returned, shaking the water from her hands. “What did you need of him?”

Granny didn’t look at her, but her retort shot a cold bullet across the room. “Every girl has their secrets, darling. I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to ask about yours.”

Kinuka went bright red.

“Hey, that’s uncalled for.” Rin snapped. He yelped and doubled over as his arms sharply twisted behind his back.

Granny approached and hooked a finger under his chin, with a smile poisonously sweet. “Sorry—did you say something, dearie?”

Rin struggled against his bonds with shaky breath. “No,” he spluttered. “Nothing, Granny.”

“Oh. You’ll have to excuse me. This old woman’s ears are playing tricks on her again. Come now!” Granny clapped her hands together and trotted off into the kitchen, seizing Ruri by the arm and dragging them along to help with supper preparation—though, presumably to wash their hands first.

The abrupt binding around Rin’s arms ceased, and they fell limp like noodles to his sides. He glared after his grandmother. Kinuka drifted over and went to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but hesitated at the last moment. Her eyes clouded over, as though she’d narrowly avoided knocking a vase off a shelf. Her hand fell back to her side. “Are you okay?”

Rin cast her a sharp glance and took half a step away. “Fine.”

“Thank you, by the way.”

“What for?”

“Standing up for me…” She faltered. “Again.”

“Was just uncalled for…” Rin mumbled, his gaze migrating back towards the kitchen. Granny was rolling up her sleeves, bony knuckles bared with a killer look in her eye as a poor slab of pork lay victim on the chopping board. Ruri was busy dicing carrots. “Wonder what that was all about.”

“A facilitator? I wasn’t listening too closely.”

“Fortunately, I was.” Rin’s thin brow furrowed, but he didn’t elaborate.

Kinuka skirted around to take a closer look at his expression, and pursed her lips. “Something’s on your mind.”

“Congratulations. You win a prize.”

She sighed through her nose, deciding to just let that one go. “What’s up, big shot?”

“The phenomena.” Rin scratched his head. “I guess I didn’t tell you. The night before Kawarajima, I had a nightmare.”

Kinuka’s breath hitched. Again, she instinctively raised a comforting hand. This time, she had to seize her own wrist. Why? Why did she keep wanting to touch him? She clutched her forearm over her chest. Fortunately, Rin hadn’t noticed. The boy still stared into the middle distance. “What about?”

“The Nine Primordial Phenomena.” He gave her a look. “You know about them, right? Your Further Spirit—Seamstress, was it? She must’ve told you.”

Kinuka stuttered. “No, she hasn’t mentioned anything like that. Phenomena like the Traffic Sentinel, you mean?”

“Far stronger. Phenomena relating to nine concepts core to the human cognition, concepts like Time. They tried to take over my mind. I saw the Eye, the source for all our powers. It stared into my soul, as though trying to suck it out through my face. I couldn’t move.” He shuddered, eyes flitting shut at the memory of something awful.

Kinuka felt the longing to give him a hug.

“I heard thousands of voices, all speaking in unison. They were warnings, dissuading me from pursuing my dream at all costs, but everything was really vague. The Architect protected me; not sure what would have become of me otherwise. I remember what it said as clear as day, but I’m missing so much context. I’m trying to piece together a puzzle when half the pieces keep phasing out of existence whenever I search for them. I know there’s truth out there. Maybe I just need more perspective. What did they mean by ‘the deciever’?”

Kinuka’s lips tightened. She had no answers, and felt so useless.

“Why are you here? What purpose do you serve?”

She wanted to find out the truth, to unravel all these lies. Some help she had been—so far.

“We’ll find out, Rin. We won’t stop until we’ve found the truth.”

The boy nodded. A sheepish grin started clawing at the corners of his mouth. “You know, you’re pretty intimidating with that expression.”

Kinuka’s eyes burned with determination, a dark flame. She blinked, lucid once more, and the intensity faded. “I mean it, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. Still—” he placed a hand on his hip— “I’m surprised the Seamstress hasn’t at least mentioned them. Then again, am I surprised? We’ve been fighting for our lives, we’ve had no choice but to accept the help we’ve been given by our Further Spirits—who ever they are—practically without question.”

The Seamstress’ chilling words echoed through Kinuka’s head, and she curled both arms around herself to surpress a shiver. “While we’re on the subject of dreams, I recieved a warning of my own—just before I woke up at the hospital. The Seamstress, she warned me not to stray too far from the centre of my loom, lest everything come undone.”

Rin nodded, thoughtful. “What brought that on?”

“I was curious, but she evaded my grasp. It’s as you said, we know nothing about our Further Spirits. The Seamstress is usually so warm, so gentle, but the moment I tried to pursue the truth, everything froze over, and I fell. Why would she be so cagey? I don’t understand.”

“I’ll tell you one thing for free—” Rin walked across the room and perched on a low counter, ankles knocking against the wooden cabinet door— “The Architect fucking despises the Nine.”

Kinuka winced at the sheer vitriol in Rin’s words. He had channelled his Further Spirit’s anger through every syllable. “Any idea why?”

“I have some clue. Can’t speak for all phenomena, obviously, but the Nine especially seem to fancy themselves gods. Phenomena come to be when humanity expends psychic energy thinking of any concept, anthropomorphising them in the process. That psychic energy congeals, condensing into its own entity. Seems they gained some sentience somewhere along the line, and rather enjoy existing. Don’t really blame ‘em, I suppose. According to the Architect, they feed off humanity’s lack of understanding of the world. The more humanity as a whole doesn’t understand about the way the world works, the stronger they become. Deified parasites, basically.”

“I’m following. It does make sense why they’d take issue to us using the Excel Ritual.” Kinuka leaned up against the wall. “Can you kill a phenomenon?”

“Jeez, there’s that look again. What’s with you?” Rin eyed her, wary. “But, my logic says no. So long as someone still perceives that concept, consciously or otherwise, it stands to reason that phenomenon will still exist in some form or other. Though, maybe not quite as powerful. If you destroy it, they might need some time to pick back up all their pieces as they reform.”

“If they’re opposed to us, that makes things difficult.”

“My thoughts exactly. They’re not embodiments of the concepts in themselves—if you were to destroy the phenomenon of light, for example, the world wouldn’t go dark—but they’re both representative of them and have power over that specific domain. Pretty sure I gave you the lowdown back at the hospital, but Ibuse and Meguru Yoha both have Specialties with no third eyes, both a result of Blessings from the Nine. They’re both far stronger than you or I—Meguru, I suspect, has had his powers for years, but Ibuse only awakened that same day.”

“Is that what the Architect takes issue with?” She mused. “The fact that the Nine are picking sides.”

“More-so that they’re getting involved to begin with.” Rin chewed his lip. “After Ibuse showed up at Kawarajima, the Architect seemed just as happy to kill him as he had Meguru. To make an example, he said.”

Kinuka wore the horrified expression of a cat witnessing its owner taking their toupee off for the first time.

“I didn’t have quite that reaction but you catch my drift.”

Kinuka shook some sense back into herself. “There’s history, then.”

“An understatement.” Rin nodded. “The Architect and I butted heads that day, and the bruises haven’t yet faded, but I have reason to believe the guy’ll work with us for now.” Rin’s eye twitched and his volume gradually increased. “Hell, I’m saying all this in full knowledge that he can hear exactly what I’m saying, but is too stubborn and self-important to bother providing any kind of useful counsel!” He pouted and glared off into some distant point above his own shoulder.

“They’re definitely not holding our hands, are they?” Kinuka giggled. “Even if they proposed our contracts with their own interests in mind, they at least seem reasonable if not vaguely sympathetic. We’ve got actual enemies to worry about for now.”

“Don’t remind me.” Rin sighed. “JPRO can eat my ass.”

“Do you think the phenomena will directly stand in our way?”

“Strangely enough, I doubt it. Something about the roundabout way they’ve chosen to intervene so far suggests they’re treating this like a vaguely interactive television program, and girl I’m feeling mightily like Harry Truman at this point.”

She blinked, the reference utterly lost on her. Rin sighed again.

“Stop sighing like that,” she chided. “I don’t watch American stuff.”

“Not my problem!” He stuck his tongue out, so she kicked him in the shin. Rin toppled off the counter and rolled around on the floor he had spent an hour meticulously cleaning that very same morning before Juusei had smashed a flowerpot, spilling soil all over the fresh tiles, forcing him to clean it all over again. Eventually Rin came to a halt, lying face down. The frilly petticoat of his maid costume came to rest in a defeated lump over the backs of his bare legs, lacy white headdress fluttering down to veil his face.

“What are you doing down there?” Kinuka snorted.

“Picking up the last tatters of my dignity from the floor with my teeth,” Rin grumbled, flipping his middle finger up at her.

“Stop overreacting,” she said. “You’re fine.”

“Just because you said that, I’m going to stay here for an extra five minutes.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You broke my leg.”

“I did not! Get up!” She prodded him with her toe.

“Oh, woe is me. There is no kindness in this world, no goodness; only suffering remains an existential constant. I am forever doomed to wallow in the dregs of my own unmaking.” The boy warbled the dirge into the floor, his tired tones making a half-attempt at sounding lyrical.

“That reminds me,” nonsequitured Kinuka, “Have you seen Tegata today? He looked in a bit of a daze when Granny brought him back from the hospital this morning, barely responsive. The doctors all said he’d made a full recovery, somehow, but…”

Rin peeled his face from the floor. “Haven’t heard a peep. Bro’s spent all day in bed.”

“I hope he’s alright…” That look Tegata had given her on first sight that morning. He stood stock still, a deer in headlights, as though caught holding both bloody knife and smoking gun. He looked utterly mortified, and couldn’t move on his own steam until Granny chivied him to bed.

Rin had nothing clever to say. Kinuka caught a glimpse of his expression, strangely reflective. This, for some reason, surprised her. Had he always been capable of that?

“Yoo-hoo!” Granny cooed from the dining room. “Supper will be ready in ten minutes! I’ll be heading upstairs to get ready in five. I had better find every single surface dust-free and every single one of my dresses as good as new, or else neither of you will be getting any food!”

The crash of yet another priceless antique from upstairs was a sobering wave of ice water over the pair of them. That ballgown still lay discarded on the living room floor. Rin and Kinuka shared a horrified expression, swore, then bolted back up the stairs.