Changing Masks

by Nicholas Metelsky

  I met this aunt Natasha, a beautiful youthful woman of forty-five years old, when she was being forced out of the hotel by security. Later, I found out that the other girl was staying there too. She looked so desperate that I couldn't resist. I approached her, got her to talk, and took her to a café, where she told me her story. It wasn't easy due to my age. After I heard about her problem, I took her to the club, where Honda took care of her. Then I deliberated over how I could free her man from the clutches of the clan.

  The problem was not that I couldn't take him, but that it was pointless because Natasha had exposed herself to them. When searching for the prisoner, the clan members would find the woman in any case, which would lead them to me. I had to think of something more legal. I asked the old man Kenta considering his wisdom and life experience. I told him that I had met a woman and wanted to help her, I just didn't know how. The old man surprised me. He said that in his long life, he'd met a lot of useful people and that if the man was a small bird, he could try to negotiate his release. So he made a call.

  The result was not as positive as expected. The freed man ran to his mistress, who dumped him right after. He didn't give up, left his wife, and once again attempted to win back his mistress's heart. The girl was a part of a clan by then. The people noticed him and, oddly enough, took him in. Apparently, the fact that the head of the Koyama clan had made a fuss about him played a role.

  A divorce was quickly arranged, and Natasha was left alone and broke in a foreign country. The end of the story for the woman was a month of black depression and the position of Chief Cook at The Swallow. As of today, she lives in that same club and tries to ignore Shotgun, who, in turn, tries to woo her. My personal opinion is that he's going to win her over and take that long-awaited vacation.

  'Hello, Auntie Natasha. Is there anything to eat?' I asked in Russian.

  'Good day,' she smiled. 'Have a seat, I'll come up with something. Do you want a snack or a nice meal?'

  'I just woke up, Auntie Natasha.'

  'I'll make something Russian, okay?'

  'Anything you make is going to be good.' She worked as a cook back home too. It’s in her genes because her mother and grandmother were cooks too. That's why I didn't care what she made. It wouldn't be bad.

  As I was finishing my cream of rice, I pointed at the newspaper she was reading.

  'Anything good?'

  'Nothing new. They keep covering this story with the Tokyo museum.'

  'Is that where everything was turned upside down, but nothing was taken?'

  'Yep. Now they're checking the authenticity of the exhibits. There are suspicions that the vandals could have swopped out certain things. The police began to receive new combat robots. We have a new Minister of Education. Another skirmish with Malay pirates.' Yup, we know those pirates. They are more likely Corsairs. 'I think that's all for exciting news.'

  'Wow, delicious as always,' I said, pushing the empty plate aside. 'Thank you very much. I suppose, I better get back to business.'

  'All right. Good luck there with your... business,' she smirked. She must have thought of something frisky.

  I had to stop at home, so I could change, check in, and hit the shooting range. Yep, that's what I did to kill time. As I was nearing my house, I saw Shina waiting for me. She probably checked with the clan guards and found out that I had entered clan territory. After all, it's kind of a pain to live here. I'd rather be eighteen. Although I could find an apartment now, there was a problem. It wasn't that I was underage and not living with my parents. Then, I could just say that my friends helped me rent an apartment. The problem was that no one would stop to ask me about my friends or anything at all for that matter. They'd just make a note of it and start interrogating my friends. Who knows what they’d dig up on me.

  Shina was annoyed. Shina was boiling. Shina stood there as if she was my wife and I was coming back home after a night of drinking.

  'Where have you been all this time?' Yep, I've heard that before. 'I went into the house to talk to you, and you weren't there.' Nice. She just walked in. Bloody house thief. 'You weren't there last night at all. Not even in the morning! I waited for you like a fool, and you're off flaneuring somewhere.'

  'Miss, do you have a problem?'

  'You are the one who has a problem, little one. You have serious problems,' she hissed.

  'Hold on. I'm serious.' I said, holding up both hands at chest level. 'A teenager, who sits at home all day instead of trying to find a thousand different ways to have fun is clearly in trouble.'

  'You... You're... just a jerk,' she turned around and quickly marched home. As she reached the gate, she turned around: 'I have plenty of things to do!' she yelled before disappearing inside the house. I have to run from here. She's gonna come back and bust chops. I gotta change quickly into something inconspicuous and get out of here. I thought to myself while I was going upstairs into my room.

  I almost made it. I changed into my dark blue jeans and a gray turtleneck, and when I opened the door to my room, I heard my front door slamming. Well, that means I’ll have to escape through the window again. Wait a second. Shina isn't stupid, at least not all the time, and probably knows about the window. Especially as it's not my first time running off. The slamming sounded kind of hard for her. I’ll have to use the front gates to escape. Whatever, breaking through!

  I ran down the stairs and turned around. No one was there. Okay, out of here. Shoot, I didn't lock the door. Hell, what difference does it make if everyone has keys anyway? Meeting strangers in the clan's neighborhood was hardly likely. I have to move fast, get off the main road, go through the blocks.

  I decided to skip the shooting range for the day. I didn't feel like jostling in the subway just for the sake of killing a couple of hours, so I took a different route. I'd just hang out in the club. At least it was in the same direction.

  Walking to The Swallow, I thought how nice it would be to have a car. Rydon, despite the traffic jams, at least sits, while I have to mostly stand on the subway among an eerie crowd. The subway is quite a place. The same probably goes for any country. A subway is a wonderland. I need a car and a driver because without a driver, no person under the age of 18 is allowed to have a driving license. My main problem was how to find a person who I could trust and who wouldn't question anything. Buying a car was not a problem. I could hear someone being beaten up in the alley. What if I were to save someone's life? Ah, a pipe dream! If only everything were that easy. I felt obliged to stop by and take a look at what was going on. Rumors that club clients are being assaulted is the last thing I need. Indeed, after a certain incident that took place in this world in my childhood, I took situations like this very seriously.

  On that occasion, I was almost beaten to death by the children of some aristocrats who had completely lost their minds from a complete absence of authority in their lives. They would have taken my life if it wasn't for an old man, whose name I still haven't been able to find out. It was as if he never existed. I only got his nickname—Glass. Running by, he grabbed me, an 11-year-old incapable child, who got in between a bunch of jerks, took me away, and pushed me into a gap between the houses, so they wouldn't find me. They didn't care who they played with: a child or an old man. Both were just bodies to them. He died just a few feet away from me, trying to explain that the child escaped and run away. I didn't hear a peep from him after that. I discovered he was dead, and it took me four years to find and kill off the pathetic aristocrats involved. There was just one left, the son of a prince with the culinary name Saute, the Daimyo of the province of Simosa. At first, he was too cool for me, and then he left for Germany where he went to school. He wasn’t going to stay there forever though, and I was still waiting for him back here. If he was not back by the time I turned 18, I'd go and find him myself. What was important for me now was to find out who was being beaten this time.

  The street was a cul-de-sac, where I saw a churned body that was too small to be an adult human. Tw
o adult men, standing with their backs to me, were kicking a child, which in itself was disgusting. In addition to that, they were doing it next to my club which was completely outrageous. I felt the guy's emotions. I’ll say it again, empathy is the prerogative of witches, but to some extent, they are available to men as well. The difference is in the strength of these abilities. I can only feel very vivid emotions, not directed at anyone. One of the manifestations of empathy that does not depend on sexual characteristics is sensing someone looking at you through a scope, but the witches themselves do not agree with this. Anyone who has ever felt the emotions of another person will understand me. The feeling of danger is not, however, considered empathy and I agree. So the guy had a strong desire to take the pain silently. He wasn't wishing for it to end or to hold his rage; he was trying to hold in the urge to make a sound. Very noble, what can I say. If I were him, I would only wish for revenge, quietly like him. One exception applies here—I'm an adult deep inside. When I was little... I don't even know.

  I walked up to the men—not men really, considering that I was able to take one down with a punch to the back of his head, which gave him a concussion. The other turned towards me and I broke his knee with a kick and knocked him out hitting his temple. I wasn't going to kill them right here, next to the club. I wanted to talk about life. Whether they survived the conversation or not depended on their endurance and Vas-Vas' mood. I wasn’t going to waste my time on them. After dealing with these jerks, I leaned over the child, who was lying there in a fetal position. An initial inspection did not reveal any critical wounds. We would know more when he was seen by a doctor. Auntie Natasha could check him over. I didn't even know where the closest hospital was. We’d have to make it before six. Moving around, the guy removed his hands from his face and head.

  Wow! What a day! The guy on the ground was the greatest thief of all time—Kazuki Sato! He was a familiar guy. He'd been trying to steal from me for the past six months. The first time I wanted to break his hand for getting into my pocket. Good thing, I realized just in time that the hand was too small. That time, he got away with five minutes of being mocked and a cuff to the nape. The second time, I ridiculed him for ten minutes and, after hanging a snap, let him go in peace. On all subsequent occasions, he got away with nothing more than a slap. Evidently, the boy lived somewhere nearby, because I met him often and always next to the club. I explained to him as well as I could, using Yaki, that if he got caught or I learned that he was stealing from club visitors, he would not get away with just a cuff. So far, he had not been caught by anyone except for me. As for our relationship, I stated that the day he succeeded in stealing anything out of my pocket, was the day I promised to retire and grow flowers. Or I could start training a new warlock. Since one becomes a warlock only on the battlefield, I doubt I could have a student, or a pension, for that matter.

  'Sakurai-san, they wanted ... to start robbing clients of the club,' the boy said, getting up and grimacing. 'I overheard … and decided to tell you ... and now, this is it.' Oh, this child! Why is he suddenly so concerned with the reputation of my institution?

  'Okay, so be it. Let's take you to the club now, and from there, to the hospital. Let's see, we might want to call the emergency services.'

  'No, there's no need to take me. I can walk. I'll go home.' So yeah, he lives nearby.

  'Is anybody there?' Now that I think of it, what kind of household would it be? It is unlikely that a child from a good family would get into stealing.

  'Yes,' he grimaced, although clearly not from pain, 'My father.'

  'What about your mother?' I asked, helping the guy up.

  'She's dead.' Oh crap. Bad question. My apologies would be useless.

  'You know, let's go to the club first. We can at least take care of your scratches there.' Blood stains, smashed eyebrow and lips, too. There might be more.

  'No need to carry me. I can do it myself.' Is he embarrassed or what?

  'Alright, then just hold on to me.'

  'I...'

  'Or I'll carry you! You should see yourself, hero.' We started walking. He grabbed my right arm and started limping. I was ready to pick him up at any moment. As we reached the club and walked in, we saw that the hall was empty. Where is everyone when I need them? I helped Kazuki sit down on the closest sofa that was standing along the wall and went to look for someone. However, when I reached the counter, I decided to call Vasya Rymov.

  'Hello Vasya,' I started in Russian. 'Where are you right now?'

  'Hi Shinji.' Just as any other person from a different country, he didn't understand the importance of Japanese suffixes and often left them out in conversation. He generally called me by my first name. I just ignored it as I knew Russian customs all too well. 'I am at the club, in the kitchen.' He was like a big Russian bear, even on the phone.

  'Are you by yourself? Vasi-chan isn’t around?'

  Despite his knowledge of suffixes, he clearly understood how to use them. It was him who thought of adding the Japanese suffix '-chan' to a Russian nickname.

  'He's here. Has something happened?'

  'Nothing big. I want him to talk to someone. About better behavior. Also, is Aunt Natasha there?

  'No, she's in her room, I think.' Strangely, Natasha did not like walking around the city alone, and I didn't know why. I don't think she had had a bad experience or anything.

  'I see. Okay, I'll be waiting for you in the hall.' After hanging up, I dialed the number of our glorious cook. I was pretty sure that the guys would not take long if they knew that they were going to have a cup of tea. Like all the other guards at The Swallow, they were hired by me and knew perfectly well that I was the co-owner of the club, and therefore, their boss. They also knew that it was better to remain silent about it. Even though Akemi helped me find them, they had nothing to do with her. The guys, in general, had nothing to do with crime, but they weren't sissies either. It wasn't easy to teach them to listen to a teenager considering that all of them were Warriors. Soon, these pedo-fighters would learn their lesson.

  'Hello again, Shinji.' Ugh. I could feel goosebumps on my skin. For some reason, when you saw her in person, this chesty, compelling voice didn't have the same effect. Natasha looked pretty good, and it was understandable why Honda was after her. If she was younger, I would have pestered her myself.

  'Hello, Auntie Natasha. Are you in your room right now?'

  'Yes, watching TV.'

  'I want to ask you a favor. Could you run to the pharmacy and grab the first-aid kit? There’s someone here we need to help.'

  'Anything serious?' judging by the sound of her voice, she was no longer sitting in the same spot.

  'No, Auntie Natasha, if it was serious, I would have called an ambulance.'

  'Okay, I'm on my way.'

  I returned to Kazuki. He was looking around the hall with curiosity. I pondered looking at him. Sooner or later, one way or another, I would need to recruit new people. I wasn't planning on remaining a commoner forever, living next to the head of the Koyama clan. If I didn't get a coat of arms from him, I'd find one elsewhere. Of course, the coat of arms does not give special privileges — it does not give much at all for that matter but its owner becomes a free aristocrat, and that would be good enough. There was at least one advantage off the top of my head. Free aristocrats with a coat of arms and those who didn't have anyone above them couldn't be forced to serve anyone. It was nothing like the time of Peter the Great in Russia, when you could be recruited simply for walking by. Of course, I was exaggerating. But the Emperor may well require my service, if I raised up the ladder. This was not taking into account my patriarchate. Whether I became a super fighter or a super magnate, even if nobody tried to recruit me, the will of the emperor would always be hanging over me. A free Aristocrat, however, was officially protected from all that. The aristocracy was generally not much different from the subjects of the Empire, with the exception of mini-privileges like this, but that would be enough for me. I had no inten
tion of joining a clan either. For a clan involves the same subordination, and career growth even worse than in the civil service. Although to hell with it, with career growth, I didn't have to serve anyone. Vows given by warlocks cannot be violated even in another world. It's against our nature — it's higher than us. That's an advantage for the government, by the way, and that's why they aren't trying to destroy us. After all, we all once were fledgling beginners. To this day, I am held by vows that prevent me from participating in any military service. Having the coat of arms, I would have to obey the established rules, but local laws differ little from those in my own world. Therefore, my next goal was the coat of arms. Then I could start climbing, and for that, I needed trustworthy people, and not workers like those in my company. Truly faithful people have to be raised, as my unforgettable chief, Necromancer, used to say. This, of course, is not entirely true, but the specifics of Necromancer's work required him to say that. You may wonder why I should be showing off about it? Well, what about the normal human desire to be better than your neighbor? If you don't aim for something better, stagnation and regression are inevitable. This applies to everything. Given my supposedly long life, it kind of frightens me. But that's between us. Did you think that after my personal war against the states in my own world and taking those damned vows, I became your average, law-abiding, family man? Ha! Yeah right. I made money. I hustled and bustled. Oh well. Jerks. My former life was too good. I wish I could get those... Okay, calm down, Max. Take it easy. Yes. People. Close circle.

  I needed someone I could rely on in the future. It was never too early to start looking. I had Funtik, Akemi, Nemoto Taro—I'm sure if I called him, he would follow me despite all the dangers. I also have Vas-Vas, strong-willed, loyal guys; they too could be pulled closer. Shotgun, for all his honesty and reliability, was not suitable. Just because he already had everything, and he did not want for anything else, with the exception of Natasha, perhaps. He simply would not want to change anything. However, I could rely on him anyway. My company probably had some people who were worthy, but I didn't talk to them or know them personally. As a result, it turned out that I had ridiculously few people, half of which still had to be pulled up. Although I must admit that for my age, it was pretty decent.