Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Kantei ❯ Shrimpy Princess ( Chapter 4 )

My current nom de plume is Ebina Hina. I use a different name to write manga. In a prior life I was traumatized by scenes of death, around 10,000 times, bombarding into my child brain. I’d been a clone of a certain super-hero in middle school, only I was a deliberately stunted and more childish version, decanted before full growth. The doctors fixed that after several important events involving our Savior, but that’s a rather complicated story. To be fully honest with you, dear readers: he is the only man I will ever love. My love for him is so all encompassing he is my personal God. No other boys matter to me.

As a joke I make Boys Love manga, just enough to show my classmates and maintain my cover. I employ some artists to make the actual manga I pretend to sell at Comiket, but that’s not my real job. My real job is following around and cleaning up after our resident cynic’s younger sister. Yes, that’s right. Hachiman the Narcissist has a sister. A cute teenage sister who has been semi-randomly killing animals. And not just any animals. That’s not the random part. The random part is they talk first. And when they do she loses her mind and stomps the hell out of them, throws them into traffic, off bridges to drown in the cold sea, or stands on their necks until they stop breathing.

I was worried when Hachiman saved Yui’s dog from getting run over, but it turns out its just an ordinary dog. Not the talking variety. If it had been a talker? The mayhem would have probably made the news. Komachi is strong. I’ve seen her flip small cars when she’s angry. And she never remembers what happened. And I, and my crew, cleanup the mess, repair the damage, keep the neighbors quiet so they didn’t see anything.

I am not sure what the cause of her rage attacks is, but there’s a theory that she’s a former magical girl and she’s got PTSD after some kind of magical animal betrayed her. And a single name: Madoka. It is fortunate it is a pretty rare name in Japan, but even hearing that has put her catatonic and I’ve had to rescue her, get her home. She just turns into a zombie. It would be bad if some creep tried to lay hands on her. I think I’d need to use my other skills on him. My perfect man used to call oldest sister Biribiri. It was a pet name, and probably a warning. She knew how to deal with men who didn’t keep their hands to themselves. I can do the same.

Looking after Miura by distracting her from her temper with carefully trained nosebleeds has been part of my cover long enough I can flex a muscle in my nostril to tear the last scab open. The fountain of blood does require cleanup, and I’ve been bribing the janitor to handle it. No sense leaving behind DNA evidence, right? Finding excuses to change the batteries on the cameras along Komachi’s route home has become pretty routine, and the CCTV in her school is on a recording system, monitored by the Agency and they notify me by text with GPS markers. Go to the marker with some cleanup towels and a couple bags to hide the animal, or if its big, call the city to deal with it. A small bribe to dispose of the animal hit by a truck, which people always believe, and it is handled.

I think maybe being part of a group mind was important to me, and I find myself feeling so lonely now, with only the memory of all those deaths… my Agency provided therapist, who is trained to deal with war veterans and traumatized aid workers and recently the survivors of the tsunami in Fukushima. She said I have PTSD like many survivors, and I’m going to have to accept each and every violent incident I’ve witnessed, all from first person including the pain of injuries and the abrupt ending when Accellerator got bored of torturing us. Living with him, as a cripple caring for a child (me), was beyond surreal. That I didn’t wakeup screaming is a testament to my fear of antagonizing him. His expressionless psychopath’s face was a result of injuring his only friend in childhood, whom it later turned out to the Savior. He touched so many lives, saved so many people. Stopped wars, and was forgotten through the act of God, all to save the world from apocalypse and divine retribution. We knew he was our savior when he ended the genocide of the Sisters. We did not know he would save everyone. Several times over.

I have not run into his reincarnation yet, but if I do I will properly reward his current host’s body with all I can give him. Until then, these boys with their first world concerns have no idea what heroism is, and have no real concept of devotion or sacrifice. I can spend these spare hours helping a girl from going more insane, and keeping the stress off of our lonely cynic and his sudden unquestioned popularity.