Cherry Blossom Girls 8

by Harmon Cooper

  It wasn’t long before he too passed out, the four of us stepping around him.

  We came to the final floor, where we stopped in front of the only door in the hallway.

  “They may be ready to kill them when we enter, so make it fast,” I told the group.

  “Let’s go in blazing then,” Dorian said, tracing up another creation, this one a huge spiral of fuzzy energy. She sent the spiral forward, blowing through the door.

  Chloe was in first, bring everyone in the room to the ground with her bass attack.

  It turned out there were two terrorists, and they scrambled to use their weapons, only to be thwarted by Stella, who tossed both of them up to the ceiling by lifting vector pillars, then dropping them to the ground, doing it again and again.

  Michelle burst into the room, a smile on her face as she saw the Emperor and the Empress, both with their hands over their heads, speaking to each other in Japanese, terrified looks on their faces.

  “It’s fine,” I told them as I approached. “We’re here to rescue you. You speak English, right?”

  The Japanese Emperor gave me an incredulous look. It dawned on him that we weren’t about to attack him, and once he realized this, he nodded, helping his wife to her feet.

  “Yes, of course,” he said with a slight British accent.

  “You are the people we saw on television,” the Empress said to all of us.

  “We are,” I told him, “but it’s not what you think. It’s not what it looks like, that’s what I meant to say. We would never attack the people of Japan. We stopped the first terrorist attack, and now we are stopping this one. What you may have seen on television, well, that’s a bit of a long story.”

  The Emperor smoothed his hands over his clothing. He was wearing a black suit, tailor-made, but it was a bit ruffled from being held hostage. Still, he looked pretty fly. The Empress was also dressed well in a silk dress that matched a shawl over her shoulders.

  “I believe yours is a story we would like to hear,” the Emperor finally said. “If you have a moment.”

  “Do you have a moment?” I asked. “I have a feeling that this place will be swarming with just about everything Japan can throw at us in the next few minutes.”

  “Then we will make this brief, and we will vouch for you, for rescuing us.”

  “Thank you,” I told him, bowing my head.

  “I see you picked up on our customs,” he said, returning the bow.

  “From anime, yes,” I told him.

  “We definitely have,” said Michelle, bowing repeatedly.

  The others? Not so much.

  Veronique was busy making sure that the final two terrorists in the room wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. Grace, Stella, and Chloe were watching the door. Ingrid was interested in the Emperor and the Empress, and Dorian was sort of in between all of us, ready to teleport the group if it came down to it.

  “Good, then let’s get down to it: what brings you to Japan?” the Emperor asked me. “Please tell me as much as you can.”

  Chapter Nine: Quickie

  “I understand,” said the Japanese Emperor once he had heard our long and twisted tale. “The Americans created you, and now they want you dead.”

  I weighed my response for a moment. “Sort of. Actually, some people still like us. But they have framed us here in Japan, and in Washington, for that matter. Also, I was created by my parents, birds and the bees, not that this matters. Shit, does that sound classist? Totally not the vibe I’m going for here.”

  The Emperor said something to his wife in Japanese.

  I sensed that the CBGs were ready to go, but I needed to finish our conversation before we teleported the hell out of here.

  “Well, as you may know, I don’t have the power here in Japan to control the military, but I do have some media power. And I will be certain to tell the Japanese people that you saved us.”

  “That would be much appreciated.”

  “What are all of your powers?” the Empress asked. “I’m curious about things like this.”

  “We all have different powers. My power allows me to borrow someone else’s ability. I can borrow four at a time. She’s a telepath,” I said, pointing my thumb at Grace. “This one is superfast, this one can teleport, this one can control metal, she can manipulate sound, the one giving me a dirty look can manipulate vectors, which I still don’t quite understand, and this one turns into a terrible monster. Am I forgetting anyone?”

  “I’m not terrible,” Ingrid said.

  “She’s sweet, just her monster is terrible.” I glanced around, making sure everyone was accounted for. Veronique gave me the ‘wrap it up’ signal, Dorian nodding in agreement.

  “Well, this has been nice,” I started to tell the Emperor, “but unless there is something else you would like us to do, we should probably go before the military gets here.”

  “I’m sorry that I do not know more about the man you told me of, Damon Lord,” the Emperor said. “But I can have a few people look into his dealings here in Japan. Maybe we will be able to find out more about Hashima Island, and how he came to possess it. I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. But it is a place to start, and the people I know may be able to dig up more information. How should I get it to you?”

  “Um… email?”

  “Sure, tell me your email address,” he said.

  “Do you want me to write it down or something?”

  He paused, furrowing his brow. “Those thugs destroyed my phone, so I will have to remember it.”

  “I can help with that,” Grace said.

  The Emperor looked at her curiously and then back to me. “Find, just tell me what it is, and as soon as I have information, I will let you know.”

  I gave him my email address, which should have been pretty easy for him to remember considering it was my first and last name at GoogleFace.com.

  “Thank you, Gideon,” he said.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Emperor,” I told him.

  I turned to the others, who had already gathered around Dorian.

  And just like that, we were running through a tunnel of purple energy, electricity sparking all around us. Dorian was at the front, Michelle quickly catching up to her, the punk rock teleporter calling to Michelle and telling her to slow down.

  Even though I was already starting to feel it in my stomach, I had to laugh. I’d seriously gone from working at a Yale gift shop to meeting the Emperor of Japan, and sometimes it helped to take a step back and think about this, to try to get some perspective on it.

  But the problem was the world was always coming at me, like I was participating in some type of MMA match with an opponent twice my size, four arms like Goro. And if the world wasn’t trying to attack me, my own mind was.

  It was always something, but I was glad to be alive, and even happier to reappear in Nagasaki, in the swanky hotel that Grace had arranged for us.

  “It’s gonna be a minute,” I told them, my hand on my stomach.

  Dorian fell onto the couch, breathing heavily, fanning herself with her hand.

  “I can’t believe we saved the Emperor,” Ingrid said, no one else as excited as she was about this fact.

  “Who’s hungry?” Stella asked.

  “How can you be hungry after something like that?” I asked her.

  “Saving the day works up quite the appetite.”

  Chloe approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder, producing a smooth vibration with her palm. Just a few moments later, I felt better, rejuvenated.

  “Do you think the Emperor will actually email me?” I asked Grace.

  “His intention seems pretty clear to me,” she said.

  “I can’t wait to tell Luke about all this.”

  “Then tell him,” she said, nodding to a package on one of the chairs in the dining room area.

  “What’s this?”

  “A present!” Michelle said excitedly.

  “We figured you would need a new lapto
p and a phone, so we went ahead and got them for you.” Veronique was off to my left now, a hangry look on her face. “So, enjoy.”

  “Does someone need to feed?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Okay, then let’s take care of that too, and then maybe I will set this stuff up, or maybe we can go for lunch. Does everyone still have their disguises?”

  “Yes,” Dorian said, still fanning herself.

  “Sure do,” said Chloe.

  “I’m going to wear my hat.” Michelle zipped out of the room, and reappeared, the pink Denver hat on her head. “You should change too. Are you going to wear your bolo tie?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it, but sure, why not?”

  “Also, Gideon, you have to check out the toilet in here!” Michelle said. “It’s so crazy. We had a crazy toilet at our last place, but not as crazy as this one. It sprays your this part,” she said, pointing at her crotch, “but any temperature water that you want. It also plays music. It does some other things too. I can’t quite figure it out. I wish there was an instruction manual.”

  “Sure, I will check out that toilet.”

  “Yeah, you will,” Dorian said from the couch.

  Chloe pumped both hands in the air. “Making brownies.”

  “Why is everyone teasing me all of a sudden?”

  “Going to spend some quality time in there, huh?” Veronique asked, trying to be part of the humor, but failing due to the stilted tone of her voice.

  “I don’t even have to go to the restroom,” I said.

  “Take it easy on him.” Grace approached me and morphed into a Japanese woman. She giggled and then turned to the others, bowing. “Gideon-san and I must change his clothing,” she said in a high-pitched, cute anime voice. “Please change as well,” she said, bowing again, “so we can enjoy a lunch together.”

  Grace looped her arm into mine and took me into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She proceeded to push me onto the bed and climb on top of me.

  “Are you serious right now?” I told her, my hands instantly coming to the small of her back.

  “We could make it really quick,” she told me. “It’s been a while…”

  “You know I’m down,” I told her, “but it’s kind of rude to leave the others waiting.”

  “It will take them forever to get changed,” she said.

  “What are you talking about? Michelle is probably already changed by now.”

  “You sure are protesting getting fucked,” she said, still in her high-pitched voice.

  “That voice is too crazy, and you know what…” I shrugged. “Sure, we can make it quick. They were giving me hell about spending time in the bathroom, so maybe you and I should spend some time in there.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  I nodded. I was pretty sure Grace was thinking through me by that point, so I was definitely thinking what she was thinking.

  She hopped off, grabbed my hand and took me to the bathroom, where she bent over the sink.

  After jutting her hips out a bit, she pulled her panties down and hiked her skirt up.

  Rather than jump right in, I got to my knees and started eating her out, licking her from the top of her pussy all the way up to her asshole. I kept at it, feeling my own proof of writerhood tripling in size, pressing against the front of my uniform.

  “We have to be quick about it,” she said, looking at me through the mirror’s reflection. She was now using her own voice, her eyes a bit white, a devilish look on her face.

  “Definitely,” I told her as I got out of my uniform, pulling it down to my knees and just keeping it there.

  I was too lost in the moment to deal with stepping out of my boots and taking the entire uniform off, so I just went from my current position, launching straight into it, literally, my member easily slipping inside of Grace.

  She was tight, warm, and as we started going at it, she continued looking at me through the mirror’s reflection. She was in her Asian form for a moment longer, but then her hair started to turn pink and red, almost as if she was morphing into…

  Mary Jane?

  Why not, Writer Gideon? Grace thought to me. It was this or Spider-Gwen, and we already played around with that one.

  I just smiled at the redhead as I went at it, trying to finish as quickly as possible, but not too quickly. I watched Grace as she morphed into a black woman, a Hollywood actress whose name I forgot, her hair short, her lips full, her eyes dark.

  From there she went for Tifa from Final Fantasy XII, her breasts bouncing like a pair of basketballs. I watched those things for way longer than I should have, eventually looking up to my own face.

  I couldn’t look at myself.

  I didn’t want to see my own fuck face, and even in that moment, even in the midst of all this crazy spontaneous sex, I couldn’t understand what it was that women found sexy about the way men looked when they were screwing. Maybe they didn’t find us sexy, which kind of explained a couple of the positions. But there were others that required eye contact.

  Not that I minded eye contact…

  Shut up and fuck me, Writer Gideon! Grace thought aloud.

  “Yep, focus, focus,” I said, closing my eyes, and just trying to be in the moment. I watched her breasts bounce, the determined look on her face, occasionally glancing down to see my own member sliding in and out, everything running smoothly.

  I got the sense that she was fucking herself through me, which wasn’t the first time I’d felt that. I noticed the change in my rhythm, a dip in my speed. My shaft tilted upward just a bit, so it got into all the right places.

  And soon, I was putty on the floor, breathing heavily, Grace crouched in front of me, wiping up.

  “Dammit, I missed the hell out of you,” I finally said.

  “I know you did. And we can have a better time later,” she said quickly, “but the others are getting restless, and they’ll start wondering what we are doing in here.”

  “I don’t know if I should thank you, or tell you not to take over my mind while we’re doing it…” I started to say.

  “You should thank me.” She smiled at me, a look of realization painting across her face. “Ooo… let’s try it invisible next time!”

  “How did you?”

  She tapped her temple and smiled.

  Chapter Ten: Ramen and A Giant Robot

  I know that these types of scenes are played out, but…

  Signal the slow-motion walk as the eight of us stepped out into the hotel lobby, all in some sort of disguise, exciting hip-hop music playing in the background, the camera panning to each of our faces and then zooming out.

  I had gone with old man Gideon, taking Grace’s shifter power to replace Stella’s shield, obviously rocking the bolo tie; Michelle wore sunglasses and her pink Denver hat; Dorian was in a hijab and a black leather jacket; Chloe had her hair in pigtails and wore fake Ray-Bans with tortoise frames; Veronique was in short shorts with a scarf tied around her neck and glasses without lenses; Stella wore the beret I had picked up in the subway on my mad dash back from nearly having my ass handed to me in Setagaya; Ingrid wore a dress over one of the Manchester Missions shirts, her hair in a ponytail; and Grace had turned the cosplay up a notch as Nurse Joy from the Pokémon franchise.

  Which definitely wasn’t distracting.

  As usual, no one batted an eye, Grace doing what she did best by forcing people to instantly forget us. We had other plans for the day, at least I did, but food was a must, so after Veronique fed, we chose a ramen joint near the hotel.

  As soon as we entered the steamy place, we were greeted by a screaming woman, at least it sounded like she was screaming.

  “That means ‘welcome,’” Ingrid told me, as my heart settled.

  “My God,” I told her, half-joking. “I thought we were getting ambushed or something.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard them calling out like that before,” Ingrid said. “We’ve been i
n Japan for a while now.”

  “No, we haven’t,” I told her. “We were here for a few days, then we were in Mongolia.”

  “I still want to go to Mongolia,” Michelle said to Ingrid as the hostess led us to the bar.

  “You’d like Mary.”

  “I’m sure I would!”

  There were only six stools, and she apologized profusely as she glanced around, biting her lip.

  “It’s okay,” Dorian told her. “Gideon and I can sit here.”

  And that’s how Dorian and I ended up in a booth together, the others at the bar. And since we didn’t really know what to order, I went with the words that I understood on the menu.

  Miso Ramen.

  There were two chefs behind the bar who immediately jumped into action as soon as the orders were in. It was a pleasure to watch. They diced, they sliced, they lifted baskets out of hot water and dipped noodles in, tossing the rest of the water on the floor, preparing our meals with chopsticks and knives, calling out as each bowl of ramen was delivered.

  “This is going to be so awesome,” Dorian said, licking her lips.

  “Agreed. Have you eaten here before?”

  “No, Grace just had food delivered to our room. We only went out a few times,” she said, “mostly to get you equipment.”

  “And I appreciate that,” I told her as I placed the laptop they’d got me on the table.

  I powered it up, and it asked me to connect to the Wi-Fi. Luckily, our hotel was close enough that I was able to pick up the signal. I connected, and waited for it to do its uploading thing, Dorian smiling at me as my eyes went wide with excitement.

  “You sure like new technology, don’t you?”

  “I think it is sort of a Generation Z thing,” I told her.

  “You don’t think they liked new technology in the last century?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t alive then,” I reminded her.

  “That’s right,” she said as I logged in to my email, noticing that there were over a hundred unread messages.

  There were some marked as urgent, especially the ones from my agent, Jake Archibald. I saw messages from fans too; some of them had grown pretty concerned that I hadn’t replied or posted anything on social media in the last week or so.