Stumbling into Victory 6
Jonathan YukawaBrockton Bay, NH, USA
I took a deep breath. Suddenly, I felt the completely justified urge to Hinotama Chariot in the face. He didn’t do anything to deserve it per se, and he definitely knew nothing about his boss, but just mentioning Coil’s name got me in an arson-y mood.
I reined in the urge and considered my options. Coil was interested in me. That was bad. Who knew what he’d found out already? Did he know my civilian identity?
I didn’t think I’d been followed the other night, but it wasn’t impossible. Suddenly, I was very grateful that my parents didn’t live in this city. Not that Boston was difficult to reach… And Coil did have dealings with Accord…
‘Is this “Coil” character such a problem?’ Atem asked curiously. ‘His power did not sound especially impressive when you described him to me.’
‘It’s not his power, it’s his complete disregard for the unwritten rules,’ I told him. ‘Coil isn’t as threatening to me personally since I know how he operates, but the reverse can also be true. I’m a known quantity now, and that means he’ll start trying to simulate my actions.’
‘Then he is an opponent best removed from the board early.’
‘That’s the gist, yeah. I could fight and beat Chariot now, but it’d tell Coil that I’m wary of him. It’d make the next encounter much less friendly.’
‘There is something to be said for stripping away pretenses. Kaiba, for all his faults, was never the type to hide his nature,’ he observed calmly. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
‘No, the snake has too many resources at his disposal, and might be willing to hit me out of costume,’ I said resignedly. I had a feeling I knew what Atem’s advice would be. ‘He will go on to kidnap a twelve year old girl and forcibly addict her to drugs so he can abuse her power for himself. The rules mean nothing to him.’
‘They don’t mean much to me, either. He sounds like the kind of man who must be stopped regardless of your “rules.” But I do see your point. In that case, perhaps you should play along. Hear what he has to say and wait for the serpent to emerge from his lair.’
‘Yeah, I figured you’d say that. I hate politics and playing mind games with a thinker is generally a bad idea.’
‘“Generally,” you say. You are not without plans of your own, then?’
“More like the ghost of one.’ So saying, I dismissed the moon at my back. I leveled the boy with an unimpressed stare. “Alright, Chariot, let’s hear what Coil has to say.”
“Heh, you won’t regret this,” he said with a cocksure grin. He pulled out a flip phone and dialed a number before handing it to me. “Coil’s a pretty cool boss. Loaded, and made sure I wouldn’t get pressganged or lynched without having to join the Wards, y’know?”
“I thought you were a courier. Don’t you work for everyone?”
“A little of this, a little of that. He’s my most consistent client so kinda like my boss. You can keep that, by the way. Use it as a disposable phone if you don’t have one already. Those are dead useful as a cape.”
I eyed it with all the suspicion it deserved. “What are the odds that this has a tracker in it, tinkertech or otherwise?”
“Man, you’re a paranoid one, huh? Fine, toss it in the trash somewhere. That’s cool, too. It’s got my number in it so you might wanna copy that before you do.”
With that, he headed off, leaving me alone with a ringing phone. Coil answered a moment later.
“Hello, am I speaking to the new summoner?” he asked. His voice was clear and smooth, completely at odds with the slimy snake I knew him to be. I’d almost hoped he’d sound like a used car salesman, but no dice.
I settled on the rooftop. I was probably being observed so there was no point trying to find a more secluded location now. Still, I tried to keep the distaste out of my voice. “That’s me. I go by Konami. Are you Coil?”
“That I am. You may not have heard of me–”
“I have, actually. I was under the impression that you are a villain, a minor gang leader who holds territory in the downtown area. You must have deep pockets to keep those mercenaries on retainer.”
“That I do. Well, that makes things simpler. You see, I make it a point to reach out to capes with potential.”
Mild flattery, probably probing me for reactions.
I wondered how he’d approached things in his simulation. This was a soft sell, which implied he’d gone for something harsher and decided against it. Had I killed his mercenaries? Or been killed? Maybe forcibly drawn something overpowered with my dying breath and doomed the city?
For that matter, could he simulate my draws at all? Everything I knew about Shards suggested otherwise, but I didn’t want to behave as if it was fact, only to be caught by surprise later.
I shook my head. Thinking about what-ifs was unhelpful here. Instead, I tried to pretend I was flattered. “Is that how you recruited Chariot? Tinkers fit the bill for what you’re looking for, right?”
“Indeed. A mobility tinker can provide a lot of versatility. I would have preferred that he join my organization directly, but an independent courier is advantageous in its own way,” he said with a warm chuckle. He probably found it funny that Chariot’s “independence” was something he could revoke at a whim.
“I believe I’ve made my stance as a hero clear. It’s a little strange for a villain to be approaching me, don’t you think?”
“Ah, but what is a villain, Konami? I certainly do not consider myself one.”
“No one is a villain in his own story.”
“That’s right, nor am I in any others’, I think.”
I laughed. I knew of a nosy blonde who’d vehemently disagree. “Fine, I can see that you have something to sell. So, sell me on this. How exactly do you see yourself, Coil?”
“Consider me a… concerned citizen. Konami, you must understand that this city exists in a precarious state, balanced as it is between the PRT, ABB, and Empire.”
“So that’s your angle. Is that what you are? A preserver of the balance?”
“You mock, but yes. My primary goal is not to take over the city, but to maintain its overarching stability.”
“How altruistic of you. Pardon me if I don’t believe in your innate goodness,” I drawled.
Coil was feeding me a great deal of bullshit. If he was interested in the city’s stability, it was only so he could buy time to worm his way into the PRT director’s seat. Around this time, he was probably looking for the civilian identities of the Empire, no clue how much progress he’d made.
His ultimate goal was to rule the city completely. To that end, he planned to take over for Piggot, becoming the most important person on the side of the law. At the same time, he planned to prop up proxies to take over the underworld, essentially controlling every aspect of the city.
“Me? Altruistic? No, not quite,” he admitted shamelessly. “I am a businessman, Konami. Gang wars that leave dozens dead. Nazis lynching blacks and Jews in the streets. ABB kidnapping vulnerable young women to ship out of state. It all draws attention. It’s bad for business, you see.”
“You’re a thinker, right? You must be if you’re doing stuff like this. You could sell your services to the PRT if you truly felt the ABB and Empire needed to be stopped.”
“The PRT will never do what must be done. They are slow, weighed down by bureaucracy and tradition. By that logic, I could point out that you might do more good as a Protectorate hero. Yet, here you are. Truthfully, I am grateful for independents such as yourself. You provide a free service in keeping the two major gangs contained.”
“Fair enough, we all do what we must,” I replied with a rueful chuckle. I had to give it to him; he was good. He was sprinkling in enough truth to seem relatable while revealing nothing about his own operations. “What is it that you want from me, Coil?”
“For now, nothing. This is nothing more than an introductory call,” he answered. I took that to mean he was probing the waters and had chosen to follow this simulation because I was responding favorably. “Keep my number, and Chariot’s as well. Copy it from this phone onto yours if it suits you.”
“I’ll do that, thanks. If nothing else, I can see the advantages of knowing a tinker and thinker. And, in the future?”
“I would be open to selling you information or supplies. Weapons, protective equipment, anything of that nature. You may consider me a vendor like any other, albeit of more niche goods.”
“And what would you like in exchange? Before you ask, I cannot give away my summons.”
“I wouldn’t want one. A master’s minions never respond as well to another. A favor here and there seems like fair compensation to me.”
I let out a skeptical scoff. “Really, Coil? Are you trying to use me as a proxy against the bigger gangs?”
“You’ve caught me,” he laughed with false modesty. “But would you truly be against that? Will you avoid fighting the Empire simply because I would be among hundreds who benefit?”
“No, of course not. That would be illogical. If I can do good for this city, then it doesn’t matter to me what you stand to gain from it.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, Konami. Just think of me as a resource that can help you streamline your hero work.”
X
It was the Friday morning of spring break. I’d gone out another night, but hadn’t done anything worth mentioning. A mugging here, a carjacking there, all about normal for Brockton Bay. It was nice. The way things were going, I was beginning to think I was doomed to encounter at least one cape every patrol, like that “May you live in interesting times,” curse.
My morning passed in a lazy haze. I made my probably-did-it-wrong oatmeal before heading out on my run. I came back, finished an assignment for class, and watched the highlights of a baseball game with Luke and Sean.
We grabbed a pizza at the campus cafeteria for lunch and tossed a ball around afterward. Whether it was the consistent gym routine or my swelling ba, I found myself starting to keep up with the long-time athletes. I had to beg off the pickup game it turned into, though.
That was how I found myself back at the Laborn Gym. I wasn’t here to work out this time, though I did hit the jump rope for a bit before my new student arrived.
Eventually, school let out and she showed up, picked up by her brother. The two made for quite the pair, one a tall, muscular boy who favored dark colors, the other a short teen who looked like she’d been dressed by a colorblind clown.
That… wasn’t entirely fair. Aisha Laborn was cute, in that punkish way that people her age probably thought was hot. She dressed like she was screaming for attention, with a black crop top that showed off her navel and a pair of shorts far too tight for a middle schooler to be wearing. She also had purple fishnets, a jack-o-lantern necklace, and a neon orange and green jacket. Her jacket reminded me of a safety vest.
Her straight, black hair had a single, purple highlight through her bangs. It gave the impression that her disastrous outfit had been chosen intentionally. And given her devil-may-care attitude, she managed to pull off the punk rebel look.
‘She looks like a duelist,’ Atem observed with an amused hum. ‘Have you noticed? Every duelist of note tends to dress to draw the eye.’
‘You know, I was always curious about that. The two-tone hair that spikes like Sonic the Hedgehog. The excessive number of belts. Even Yugi dressed like that and he was as mild-mannered as people get. What gives?’
‘People sometimes like to make a statement. Like this young lady. I like her. Tea would have as well.’
‘I suppose dueling does tend to attract strong personalities,’ I mused.
‘Indeed. And when professional dueling became a viable profession, people also dressed this way to stand out to the audience or attract sponsors. You know, you could stand to learn a thing from this one.’
‘M-Me? What's wrong with my costume?’
‘Nothing, but a bit more “pop" as Tea would say would go a long way to making you more recognizable,’ the pharaoh said, chuckling.
‘I have a giant, golden pyramid around my neck,’ I huffed. ‘You're teasing me.’
‘A little.’
‘Bah, begone, you evil spirit of silly hairstyles.’
‘My hair is not silly,’ he sputtered. ‘Hmph, I can see when I am unwanted.’
He withdrew, leaving me with a pair of siblings who heard nothing but saw me rolling my eyes.
Aisha glared up at me, though her short stature made her rather unintimidating. “What? Got something to say?”
“No, you just… reminded me of a friend,” I said, fishing for an answer that didn’t make me sound like a judgy prick.
“Yeah?”
“Yup. I knew a girl named Tea. I was just thinking about what she’d have said about you.”
“Well, fuck her, too.”
“She’d have liked your style, actually. She was a dancer, see? Had a background in ballet but transitioned more to hip hop and other contemporary stuff.”
“Whatever,” she grumbled, but seemed appeased for the moment.
I turned to Brian and gave him a fist bump. “Hey, man, how’s it going?”
“Surviving. How was the gym?” he asked, looking around.
“Dunno, I just got here myself.”
“Well… I’ll leave you and Aisha to it.” He grabbed Aisha by the handle of her backpack and nudged her towards me. “Don’t give him any trouble, you hear?”
The teenager huffed in annoyance but made her way to James’ office. “The hell am I, a dog? Can’t believe dad got me a fucking tutor.”
I closed the door behind her, muffling the rhythmic thumping of mitts hitting the bags and the whipcord whistling of jump ropes. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. We’ll just go over your homework and do a bit of reviewing so I know where you’re at.”
She sat down and kicked up her feet, the universal body language for “I ain’t doing shit and you can’t make me.” “How about no?”
“How about yes?”
“How about you do my homework for me, and…” She dug around her hip pocket and withdrew a “wallet” made by covering a few slides of cardboard with duct tape. “Five? Yeah, I’ll give you five bucks.”
“How about next week? And the week after that? Will you give me five bucks for every session?” I pointed out the fallacy in her logic. “Obviously not, right?”
“Yeah? Well, fuck you, too. I’ll… I’ll tell dad that you’re a terrible tutor.”
“I think that at this point, he’s more likely to believe that you’re a terrible student,” I replied dryly. I cleared James’ desk and scooted my chair next to her. It was a tight fit, but we’d have to make do.
Our eyes met. Lightning sparked between us. I was determined to give this tutoring thing a solid try. Aisha was determined to make my life as difficult as possible.
Unfortunately for her, I grew up with Alice Matsuri as a childhood friend, the most stubborn, anal-retentive girl in the world. Her dad was even stricter than mine and she made it everyone else’s problem. In comparison, Aisha Laborn was a yappy chihuahua.
Finally, she let out a defeated sigh and removed her feet from the desk. She pulled out her textbooks: English, biology, and pre-algebra, the usual suspects. She also had a ratty binder she kept her loose-leaf assignments in and a daily planner that was as clean and unmarked as the day she’d bought it.
“You’re such a killjoy.”
I opened up her binder and began looking through the assignments she was supposed to do. It was all simple enough. “This is tutoring. It’s not supposed to be fun.”
“Well… What if I told Brian you’re flirting with me? He’s pretty protective of me, you know,” she sassed with a smug smirk.
I shot her an unimpressed glare. “You’re not as cute as you think you are.”
“Yeah? That’s not what Brian will hea–Hey! Ow! What the hell!”
I smacked her with a rolled up folder, one of those disposable paper ones. When she tried to catch it, I took her hands in mine and bonked her again. She squealed and kicked me under the desk but didn’t have much leverage.
The noise did bring James over, though. He poked his head in and saw me smacking his daughter with her own homework. The sight made him snort in disbelief.
“You know, I could’ve sworn I’m paying you to make my daughter smarter, not kill off the few brain cells she’s got left,” he said, not quite a reprimand but a warning nonetheless.
“You aren’t paying me at all, coach,” I pointed out glibly. Aisha opened her mouth so I smacked her again. “She’s saying she’ll tell Brian that I’m hitting on her and I’m showing her why that’s a dumb idea.”
He looked at me, then at his daughter. He snatched the folder and smacked her himself. “Damn it, Aisha. Do your damn homework, girl.”
Law of James declared, he tossed her homework back on the desk and left, shaking his head all the while.
I eyed the chastised girl with a raised brow. “There, now he won’t believe you unless you’re actually distressed.”
“You’re such a fucking dickhead,” she whined, clutching her head.
“That didn’t hurt and you know it.”
“It hurt my feelings, asshole.”
“Being called a pedophile hurt mine. Now come on, we could’ve been halfway done by now if you just got to work. Is it really that hard to put in some effort?”
She shuffled awkwardly in her seat at that. “Maybe for you it’s not…”
‘Ah, and now we finally approach the root of the problem,’ Atem observed quietly.
‘Were you watching?’
‘Your little comedy act? Yes. Stubbornness and rebellion are shields for her.’
‘I know,’ I replied with a mental sigh. ‘I’m not sure what to do in response, though.’
‘Perhaps you can start by simply relating to her.’
‘I’ll try.’ I bumped her shoulder with mine. “Can’t focus, huh? I used to be like that. Still am, really. You know what Granny Yukawa made me do?”
“Your name is Yukawa?”
“Jonathan, but I just realized I never said so. Yeah, my name's Jonathan Yukawa.”
“Lame.”
“Everything’s lame when you’re a brat. And if everything seems the problem, maybe the common factor is you,” I shot back, poking her nose.
“Stop that, you ass,” she said, slapping my hand away with a scowl.
“Fine, fine. Anyway, she taught me to fold paper cranes. There’s an old legend, see? You fold a thousand cranes and make a wish each time. And then, when you finish, those cranes will carry the wish to the gods.”
“Yeah? What’d you wish for?” she asked, marginally curious.
“Well, my grandma wished I could focus more and do better in school. But personally? I wished for a pack from a trading card game I liked,” I laughed ruefully.
Funny, but we both got what we wanted in the end. I wondered if that shared experience in both my lives had something to do with the Millennium Puzzle showing up on my shelf.
“Oh, so you were a fucking dweeb as a kid and grew up to be an even bigger dweeb now?” she snarked.
I eyed one of James’ boxing magazines with a longing glance. Alas, he was right; this girl really couldn’t afford to lose more brain cells. “My point is that it helps to work with my hands, or have a clear goal in mind.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Origami. Doodling. Cooking. Flintnapping. I used to sew, even. Anything that keeps my hands busy can also help to keep my mind from wandering.”
“Wow, really?” she asked. For a moment, I thought I’d gotten through to her. “You must’ve been bullied a lot as a kid, huh?”
I stared up at the ceiling. The lone light bulb swayed on a chain hypnotically. I almost wished I could fall into a trance and let the time go by.
I prayed to Osiris, Ra, and anyone else who might be inclined to answer. If the gods were fair, surely Slifer would appear to smite this brat. Alas, the gods were cruel and no lightning bolt manifested.
“Just… Half an hour, Aisha,” I begged. “Just put in a bit of effort for half an hour. Your homework isn’t that long anyway.”
“Hmm… What do I get?” she asked glibly.
“A good grade?”
“And?”
“The satisfaction of not disappointing your dad or brother?”
She faltered at that, but gathered herself. “And?”
“I’ll teach you how to make a paper crane?”
“Great, so I can get made fun of by the wannabe ABB kids?”
“An origami tank?”
“That’s the same thi–Wait, how does that work? You can’t make a tank with origami.”
“Try me.”
“You’re lying.”
“You’re curious. And if you want to find out, you gotta give me half an hour.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” I deadpanned. “Thirty.”
“Ugh, fine…” she whined.
That was how I got Aisha Laborn to do her homework. She bitched and moaned the entire time, but she managed. And if she started to doodle terrible stick figures in the margins, I chalked that up as a win.
I’d been a cape for a few weeks now. I could safely say that teaching this dumbass to count was the single hardest thing I’d done to-date. Worse, I had the sneaking suspicion that it’d remain the hardest thing for a while yet.
Still, it was progress. Like pulling teeth, but progress nonetheless. I rewarded her with an ice cream cone from a nearby convenience store and the tank, as promised.
Author’s Note
^I can actually make that irl XD
I’m at a place in the outline where I think I should start looking for a “ka,” the spirit partner monster that every major duelist has. For the purposes of this story, having a ka will allow Jonathan to draw from packs that feature its archetype more easily.
A part of me just wants to choose Exxod, Master of the Guard, and build a rock/Earth “deck” for him that transitions to Exodia when he’s really pissed. Some other options would include Crystal Beast, Black Luster, Gaia the Dragon Champion, Silent Magician/Swordsman, spirits archetype (with Amaterasu as the boss), or something else thematic to a Japanese boy who loves random history shit.
Feel free to leave suggestions. I still don’t really want to write actual duels (because I’m terrible at math and the card game). In case I have to in the future, I’d prefer an archetype that’s relatively simple to play.
Thus, the most annoying arc in Brockton Bay begins. It’s kind of funny how hated Coil is. I know, for good reasons, but he’s always a challenge to write in my fics.
Aisha’s duct tape wallet used to be a thing that was popular back when I was a kid. It looks so trashy now that I’m thinking back on it but seemed so cool then. My cousin and a bunch of my friends had one. I was too lazy to try making one and never had any cash anyway.
My dad was basically like James Laborn. Not a boxer, but he was pretty emotionally stunted and didn’t like dealing with things that couldn’t be fixed with his hands. I got my ass kicked a lot as a kid, especially as the oldest and the son.
Animal Fact: Manatees are basically undersea blimps. They use their lungs like flotation devices.
Their lungs run along the top of their bodies, parallel to their spine. They control their buoyancy by flexing their rib muscles to compress the volume of their lungs, allowing them to rise and sink in the water.