Crossover Fan Fiction / Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction ❯ Reason And Accountability ❯ YOINK ( Chapter 34 )

I have regrets. I regret I was too late to save Jaune’s wife, Pyrrha. If I had abandoned Ruby’s sister to a severed limb, like in the show, I still wouldn’t have been able to reach the top of the tower in time. Even Ruby was only there fast enough to see her friend die, and too late to do more than scream and freeze the dragon into stone. And crippled Cinder, if I remember correctly. But Pyrrha. If only I could have portaled there and snatched her out of the jaws of Death.

A portal appeared. I saw Pyrrha facing Cinder and her bow. I cast Telekinesis without thinking.

“YOINK!” And she was dragged bodily into my room, her weapons and that jeweled crown she wears dropped. The portal closed, a glass arrow buried in the wall behind my bed, right in the middle of my Gundam poster. Damn. That’s original.

“Uh. Who are you?” asked the red headed girl in English.

“Sometimes I’m Jaune,” I said in English, overcome with emotion, and knelt to hold her.

“What? What just happened?” she asked in English. Pyrrha did not speak Japanese. Why would she? She was RWBY’s analog of a Greek, after all. I was lucky she spoke English, because I don’t speak Greek.

“You died. Would have died. Did die. But not this time.” I sensed somewhere a favor paid by Death.

“Niisan? What’s that noise?” asked Komachi opening my door and seeing me with a girl in my arms.

“Whoa. Okay. Did not expect you to sneak in a girl,” Komachi backpedaled.

“Komachi, this is Pyrrha. The one I told you about,” I explained in Japanese.

“Pyrrha, this is my younger sister Komachi. You are in Japan, on Earth which is another planet from Remnant. We don’t have as many gods here, or if we do they’re better about keeping a lower profile and seem to like the world and its peoples better than your world did,” I clarified. It needed to be said.

“You said you are Jaune sometimes? What does that mean?” she asked, pushing me away and staring in my eyes, suspicious.

“That first time together? That was me.”

“That was Jaune,” she denied, standing up.

“That was me, inside Jaune’s body. It’s complicated. Would you like a cup of coffee?” I offered her. She stared, but agreed. Her armored greaves clanked on the floor. Taking them off indoors is not a thing on Remnant, being was more complicated and probably requiring tools. She proved me wrong by twisting off some semi-hidden mechanism and removing them after various gestures by Komachi.

“Sorry. This is so sudden,” she said, reaching the bottom of the stairs and turning to regard me, greaves under one arm.

“Put them by the door, over there. We’ll go for a walk in a bit. I should explain. There’s billions of people here. No faunus, probably. No grim, probably, though ayakashi and youma are both probably real, though rare. And generally smart enough to avoid drawing attention to themselves. We don’t have airships or anti-gravity, but we do have airplanes with wings which go very fast. We have computers and phones, similar to your scrolls, but no extendable screens. Since there are no grim, there’s no huntsman. We have sports instead.” I finished pouring hot water from the electric boiler into a french press with Italian roast coffee and stirred. I recalled she liked her coffee black, one sugar, so prepared a cup and set the timer on my cellphone to count down from eight minutes. You gotta let good coffee steep. I made a cup for myself, with milk and lots of sugar.

We sat, staring at each other across the table in my home’s kitchen. It was all very surreal. Her red hair exactly as I remember. I was working hard to contain all my emotions.

“You have to understand I have never seen you before, but your look is familiar,” she admitted. “And the way you talk.”

“I’ve got magic. I’m a wizard, I guess. And agent of Death, as well. Seeing you die has been my greatest regret since this all started a month ago.”

“But Jaune and I first slept together eight months ago, and married two months ago, before the dance,” she objected.

“Time is weird for me. I skip around. I’ve been in the bodies of people in a couple dozen universes. I have a spell that heals people, and it’s rare in most places so most of the time I heal someone who was either going to die or whose life and destiny were being ruined by injury. Oh, Spruce Willis exists here. All his movies too.”

“Can you send me back?” she asked. I queried Death.

“No. You were destined to die on that tower, the Maiden’s power ripped out of your soul by Cinder and that glass arrow in my wall was meant for your heart. You would have died, turned to ashes. That’s what we found. I was in Jaune’s body when he found your pile of ashes a few minutes ago, but several weeks ago for me. Your death was really hard for me, and for him. Not being there gives Jaune the strength to defeat Salem and all her minions, to grow into a real hero. He will be cursed with a broken heart over your death, but he will become a hero because of that curse. If you understand,” I explained. Komachi returned from the living room, holding up the box set of RWBY DVDs seasons 1-3 and pointed to the liner notes about Pyrrha. Then she placed them on the table in front of my wife.

“Oh. Oh.” She said, paling in realization at the picture of herself and the RWBY girls.

“Yes. This is a weird universe. What we perceive as entertainment are sometimes actual places with actual people living actual lives. People like you. The armor will go well as a cosplay convention in Tokyo, but we’ll find you some appropriate casual clothes. Komachi isn’t exactly your size, but….”

“What are we going to tell mom?” Komachi asked, summing up the bigger problem.

“What did she say?” asked Pyrrha, not speaking Japanese. The timer went off. I stopped it and gently pushed down the plunger of the French press coffee urn, straining out the grounds. I turned the top and pours two cups of coffee, noting Komachi’s gesture, three cups. She added a lump of sugar and retrieved her chocolates from the fridge. It was summer. You had to keep them there or they would melt. She offered them to us. I took one, sipping my hot coffee. Pyrrha did as well, making a pleased expression at both.

“I am a high school student. We live with our parents here. They will want to know where you came from, and why,” I explained to Pyrrha in English. I repeated it for Komachi.

“We need to get her a cellphone with the English Japanese translator app. One that does signs and news broadcasts,” Komachi suggested. “And some minutes so she can call you for help. How old is she?”

“Seventeen,” I answered. “And married to me.”

“Married to Jaune. And you said she was pregnant,” she reminded me. Oh. Yes. That is true. I flicked on my healing ability to check. The baby was fine. Pyrrha’s injuries were quickly healed, though her own soul had covered it up well. I healed it better. She stared at me.

“I’ve seen Jaune do that,” she exclaimed.

“I am not surprised. We shared souls for a while, a couple times. This is magic in the soul,” I explained to her. “Healing others is a spell I learned in another place, and it came back with me. Everywhere I’ve gone I have been able to use this. The baby is fine.”

“Komachi, can you find her some clothes that might fit?”

“Eh. She’s bigger than me, but smaller than mom. Maybe something of mom’s until we can get to a store,”

“And vitamins. She’s pregnant,” I added to Komachi. My sister glared at me.

“What would I know about vitamins for mothers?” Komachi shouted, stomping out of the room in teenager girl rage. I sighed.

“Eh?” asked Pyrrha. “What?”

“Just give me a minute. I need to talk to my sister,” I explained. I followed up the stairs and knocked on her door. I heard sniffles. She’s smarter than me, but she’s a girl with delicate feelings.

“I could just about believe that it was just you being crazy,” she complained as I entered her room. She was snuggling a pillow to her chest. “That this was just a more elaborate Dark Flame Master ploy. With a few special effects so you had something to show when you use magic. But then you had to go and being HER here. And you called her your wife.”

“Yes. But you will always be my little sister,” I reminded her. I sat beside her on her bed and hugged her to me.

“And she’s pregnant and everything!” she howled.

“The usual way. Though our kid has a blonde haired father, genetically a white guy. Should make for a very confusing family picture,” I admitted.

“It’s crazy, Hachiman! What are you going to do for money? How can you care for a wife and child, provide for them. Who is going to give me rides to school on your bike if you’re all worried about your wife and child?” she demanded.

“I’m pretty sure that the ability to cure any disease, including cancer, is going to be worth a lot of money,” I answered calmly. “And I doubt this will be the last person I rescue from a terrible fate using a portal. I can imagine that several people in Evangelion deserve to be rescued, including Kaji before Misato shoots him. Making her do it was cruel. You’re right that I need a place to put all these people, and I need to see what Pyrrha wants. Half an hour ago she was married with a child on the way. Now she’s separated by I don’t know how many light years and a universal barrier and is the only superhero in this world, probably with a fabulous career in film ahead of her… if the Mouse didn’t ruin all those films. I shouldn’t assume that just because I love her that she feels the same way about a stranger.” Komachi sniffed. I offered her a tissue, which she blew into and wiped her eyes. They were red and swollen.

I descended the stairs to Pyrrha, sipping coffee and looking uncomfortable.

“I think we should get you some clothes and then talk about what you want to do.”

“I agree. I am grateful for the rescue, but I don’t really know you, and I’m in shock. I’m torn away from the world I know, and you seem to speak a different language here,” Pyrrha said, gesturing to the TV playing Japanese programming.

“Eh. English is the Lingua Franca, spoken by around a billion people, which is more than lived on Remnant. They just happen to be on another continent or two. There’s also Greece, which speaks some variation of your home island’s tongue. Their economy is terrible, but they would recognize your armor right away, even though it is 2,500 years out of date. There’s also the Philippines, which speaks English and Tagalog. Most of the population speaks English because Tagalog has hundreds of dialects and every island is different. Their economy is terrible and you look like a victim to kidnap or rob, so you’d be better off in Ireland, Canada, the USA or one of those other English speaking countries. You can learn to fit in.”

I turned and found Komachi offering a large teeshirt from my closet and a pair of sweat pants that would probably fit my wife. I directed her back to my room to change and waited. She descended the stairs and Komachi gave her an old pair of thongs to wear on her feet. Shoes will be necessary. My bank account will suffer. Suck it up. She is important to me. She deserves to be treated like the hero she really is, but she died there. This is a second chance at life. Maybe a more precious thing than anything else. No maybe. Life is important. None of this dying at seventeen crap.

We went downtown, to one of those shops in the mall, got some ordinary clothes for her, a pair of running shoes, a purse and phone, and an umbrella. I showed her the city, showed her a world that didn’t need to fear the night. Didn’t need huntsmen. Everything she’d dedicated her life for didn’t matter here. Then we went home and I put in Die Hard so she could see Spruce Willis. She laughed, she cheered. She commented on the differences, how Alan Rickman wasn’t a faunus here. How faunus were considered cutesy costumes here.

“This world is so different,” she finally said.

“Yes, that’s pretty much so. There are a hundred languages spoken, humans evolved here, and we have proof. I’m pretty sure than Remnant is a space colony, one that lost touch with Earth. Probably thousands of years in the future. Maybe more.” I pointed out the window and she looked out and up at our one unbroken moon. She put her arm around me to steady herself.

“It’s really true,” she whispered. Her other hand rubbed her belly. It was time for dinner. Komachi was making it, giving me a gimlet eye. I’d put Pyrrha on a guest futon in my room. She would probably wake from nightmares, knowing her sleeping habits as I did.

Dinner was good, as usual. Mother and father arrived home later. I would have school tomorrow. Pyrrha awoke several times crying out in fear. I offered her my hand to hold, which she took for a moment, then released. It wasn’t Jaune’s hand. I don’t have his calluses from working with a sword and shield every day. My hands are smaller, used to typing, to studying, to my usual contempt for human frailties, for all that was worth. For as little as that was worth, I mean. The reality of my life is a slap in the face to my expectations. Teenagers are always so certain that they understood how things really are, and spend the rest of their lives finding out they are wrong. I suppose that’s the true curse of my travels. I see more than anyone.