Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Spanish Rhapsody ❯ Conversation Over Tea ( Chapter 3 )

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THREE: A Conversation Over Tea

 

Another day of classwork, another lunch with Taishi, another afternoon of homework and preparing dinner for my brother, or whoever is using his body right now. It’s not like kidnapping, though the location beacons I sewed into his uniform have helped me find him when he wanders off. I went to the library during lunch and found that I do actually speak Spanish, German, and Swiss Romanche language, which is neither German nor French but similar to both and Latin. It is curious to just know things you didn’t know before. My English is good now, and I also speak Old Norse, apparently. I put down the foreign language books and went back to class before the lunch bell rang its end. Afternoon classes with Modern Japanese and world history class was on the Greeks during their classical period. Far more interesting than China, with their competing governance systems. The Spartans with land ownership primarily with women, leading to warfare as a population control measure and means to retaining power over their men. And the Democracy of Athens, and how it fell after losing some wars and voting itself things it couldn’t pay for.

“So then Socrates looks at the empty cup in his hand and says his last words: I drank what?” explained the history teacher with a big grin. He was a foreigner, so this was both world history and English class combined, one of the perks of this school. I laughed. The other students were trying to translate the words in their heads and eventually laughed, mostly out of social pressure.

“Hikigaya-san, can you explain the joke to the class please?” ordered the teacher. I stood up and did my best to explain the language used in the joke in a way that makes sense in Japanese.

“And the greater meta-irony of the joke is that it is in English and only works as an English language joke, despite being about the ancient Greek Philosopher who invented Logic and the Socratic Method, so only English speakers who are educated to know this fact about Socrates drinking poison will get the joke,” I finished explaining. I only knew this because niisan had explained it once when he was studying to get into Soubu.

“Very good, Miss Hikigaya-san. You can take your seat,” sensei congratulated me. Considering my language skills I probably will qualify for the International Class, like Yukino-sempai. Niisan is a very gentle boy and it troubles me endlessly how girls tend to abuse him. His travels are toughening him up, and broadening his horizons. I think most people do that during or right after college, not overnight while attending high school, but niisan has always been a very emotional person who expects a great deal from the world.

Part of me feels like I’d been the hero in my story in a prior life, and then was betrayed and forced to kill my best friend to save the world. That sort of thing leaves a mark on a soul, and it isn’t a light one you just overlook. Magical girls have it really tough.

History wrapped up and PE class got me changed into teeshirt and buruma, running laps around the field with the other children. The girls were running slowly, as usual, and the boys were goofing around with a soccer balls they were kicking around and passing back and forth. I ignored them, managing my heart rate into a good pace. Eventually I was very sweaty and exhausted and slowed down. When the PE teacher blew her whistle I hit the showers and rinsed off all the sweat. Back in uniform I collected my things and headed for the supermarket near home, a couple of bus stops away. It is fine to walk to school, or ride on niisan’s bicycle, but with his body getting borrowed so often, few of the visitors could ride a bike, nor did they know where they were going. The number of missed days at school were giving him problems, which seem to have gone away recently. I suspect some kind of intervention, probably divine or something like that. I purchased food with my family credit card, entrusted to me by Papa, so we could eat properly. I returned home, laden with shopping bags and found a red headed girl, a foreign girl with stunning good looks that would fit on a greek statue, with an uncomfortable smile of greeting and small bump on her belly. My magic activated, noting the life there. She was pregnant, several months along.

“Ah, hello. I am Pyrrha Nikos,” said the girl in clear English. Really.

“Ah, welcome to our home. I presume you know my brother?” I responded in English. This is a good opportunity to practice speaking it. I bowed politely, then proceeded to the kitchen to put away food. Looks like I’ll need to adjust menus. More leafy green vegetables, more folic acid. Maybe some wheat bread?

“Ah yes.. Jaune. Hachiman and Jaune. It is confusing,” she admitted, rubbing her belly.

“Would you like some tea?” I offered, filling the kettle and starting it heating with the push of its button. Electric immersion kettles are very quick, a very handy device.

“Ah, yes please. And a nibble of something? I find myself hungry often these days,” she admitted. I found some cookies and plated them, placing it before her and poured her a cup of green tea. Then myself and I sat down before her.

“Niisan told me about you. He cried when you died. Cried for weeks. I am pleased to see you alive, but I wonder how this is so,” I addressed her.

“Ah, well, I was facing the foe, and she shot me, and the arrow started to flow around my shield and then he pulled me backwards. I ended up dropping my weapons and lost my tiara, but I was suddenly here,” she said. Not a great explanation. “He said he was Jaune, that I was his first time, that he and Jaune are the same person sometimes. I don’t understand it.”

“Niisan takes over the bodies of heroes when he sleeps. He is able to do things as them, and wakes up when they go to sleep, back here as himself. He fell asleep and woke up as Jaune, apparently with you, in bed together. Jaune is filled with doubts and shyness. My brother is more… hmm. Assertive. In Jaune’s form he understood his love for you and acted on it. I think that’s the best way to explain.”

“But he’s not Jaune. My Jaune is sweet,” complained Pyrrha.

“So is my brother. He’s just had his heart broken. He found a woman to love, and then lost her to a tragic battle, and then found a way to save her. He wouldn’t have cried if he didn’t love you,” I explained patiently to the pregnant woman. I do understand her confusion. Niisan doesn’t look like Jaune Arc, after all. Jaune wouldn’t have been able to execute Adam Taurus, or reattached Yang’s arm in the middle of battle. Jaune isn’t a healer. He’s a hero, and heroes must suffer loss to gain strength. Somehow I knew this far too well. A certain German flight mage muttered in my head about retirement. And reminded me about chocolate and coffee. I sighed and rose from my seat.

“I am going to make coffee. Do you want some?” I asked her. She looked at her cup of tea, winced, and agreed with a nod. I snagged the small sack of grounds I’d picked up a few days ago from the grocery store. It was a local roaster, and I’d ground them at the shop so the coffee would be relatively fresh. Not as good as roasting yourself and grinding immediately, but I don’t have time for the full process. I added the grounds to a French Press and poured in the hot water from the carafe, placing the top and then moving it to the table. I retrieved my phone from a pocket and set the timer app for seven minutes count down. Then I got a couple mugs.

“Cream or sugar?” I asked her. She answered yes to both so I added them to the cup. Then I got out my precious chocolates from the back of the fridge. Being nearly summer they would suffer in the heat, so fridge it was. For some reason, the German mage was obsessed with chocolate and coffee, and also accounting for some reason. I felt compelled and irritated when forced to fill out forms, and the Japanese people love forms. It is probably a hold-over from the War. And a way to waste time rather than invent new and efficient ways to do things like the Americans were doing constantly. It was embarrassing.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” I asked her.

“I don’t have anywhere to go. Hachiman rescued me a few hours ago, and got me this outfit from somewhere.”

“It was mothers. She probably won’t mind.”

“Where are your parents?” she asked nervously looking around.

“They work full time. Niisan said your world isn’t very populated?” I confirmed. She nodded.

“We’re near a city Tokyo, with a population of twenty million. This city is called Chiba, and has a million people,” I explained. Her eyes widened.

“That’s twice as many as my home country has,” she gasped in shock.

“Well, we don’t have monsters that leap out to eat you, so there’s around seven and a half billion living here on Earth. Also, your moon is broken? Ours isn’t. Would you like to see a map of the world?” I offered. She nodded. I went upstairs and got my tablet and returned, logging into it and then selected Google Earth. It spun up in front of her.

“We’re here in Japan, which has 170 million people,” I explained.

“That’s more than ten times as many as Remnant,” she gasped.

“We’re not a huge country, but we like to think we offer a lot to the world. Over here is America, where they speak English, the language we’re using right now. They’re currently the dominant country in the world. They have around 330 million people. Europe over here is where Greece is, this nation of islands down here. Your armor and home language is probably similar to them, around two thousand five hundred years ago. Greece today just went through a tourism boom and then airline ticket prices went up and people stopped coming, so they’re in a depression again. Most of the people there think that since their ancestors created civilization’s roots, they don’t need to work or learn anything new. This makes them poor and largely disliked around the rest of the world. They’ve also been invaded several times so not many Greeks look like you today. Your red hair is unheard of in Greece, though you can find it in Ireland and Scotland. They speak English and Gaelic there, so you will be able to get along. If you go to America you can probably get work as an action movie actress after the baby is born.”

“Ah, you noticed,” she sighed, rubbing herself again.

“Yes, well, I am a young woman myself,” I agreed. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Seventeen,” she answered. I considered. Not really scandalous if they’re married. She can’t get her family permission, obviously, and the baby will be blonde or redheaded, even though its Hachiman’s child, sort of. This body thing is really confusing.

“Hachiman is almost seventeen. Jaune is sixteen, right?” I confirmed. She nodded.

“Ah, that brings up another point. Did Hachiman explain that your world is entertainment here?” I asked. She frowned at unwelcome news.

“What?” she asked. I snagged the tablet and poured our coffee, finding streams for RWBY online. I found episode one and hit play, the spun the tablet to face her.

“Hey, that’s Ruby!” she exclaimed, then sipped her coffee. “Mmm. Good coffee.”

“Have a chocolate,” I suggested, pushing the plate her way. She picked one up and lifted it to her mouth.

“Are you… robbing me?” said the tinny voice of Ruby Rose. “Kyaahh! SMASH.”

“Get her,” suggested the villain. A very cute scene. The music played, the action sequence progressed. There was a rooftop battle, interrupted by the arrival of Glynda Goodwitch, who appeared to be daughter of Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood, then the villains escape.

“Hey! That’s the woman who shot me!” complained Pyrrha.

“Cinder Fall. Yeah, classic femme fatale with a dark backstory as an orphan who barely survived the fall of Mountain Glen, and was trained by the Dark Queen herself as a tool of vengeance against Vale. It’s a whole character arc. She got your Fall Maiden power too, so she’s even stronger. Oh, wanna see what happened after you got shot?” I offered. I selected the episode at the end of Season Two and hit play, the advanced through the battle sequences until the top of the tower.

“That’s not right. Where’s my wedding? Jaune and I never said that,” she pointed at the mistake in the video.

“Ah, well, see that’s where things with my brother comes in and messes up your original death scene. In Greek, Pyrrha is from Pyrrhic, as in a victory at the cost of ones own life. You were doomed by name. Hachiman changed your future first by giving into your affections and then leading your marriage to Jaune and the baby you’re carrying, and then rescuing you. If he hadn’t been involved, this is what your life would have been.” I hit play and watched the arrow go around her shield and pierce her heart, leaving her paralyzed. Then ripping the power out of her and dissolving her into motes of burning ash.

“That’s horrible. I almost died like that?” Pyrrha asked me. I nodded.

“Very tragic, and incredibly dark for Jaune, since he loved you and never recovers from it. In season 3, Yang has a robot arm and Jaune uses your weapons and tiara to upgrade Crocea Mors to honor you. It was a pretty big deal, since he goes on to eventually fight the minions and face the Dark Queen, all his friends dead along the way. I think that’s the plan, anyway. There’s a lot of seasons yet to be made and the original author died during production. Peanut allergy, forgot his epi pen. Very tragic.”

“But I’m here. I’m alive. I’m pregnant,” she responded.

“Yes, and you can’t go back to Remnant. You’d probably evaporate into ashes. The power of the maiden leaving you is supposed to be fatal,” I said. “At least that’s what seems to happen. When Amber gave her power to you, she evaporated, and there’s some other maidens that do the same thing. It looks to be consistent. Besides, this is a much easier place to raise a child. Just be careful crossing the street. There’s these box trucks everywhere and if they hit you, you get isekaied to another world and have to fight the devil king. Happens pretty often.”

“Eesay kied?” she asked, confused.

“Ah, a Japanese word. It means spirited away to another world,” I explained.

“That’s a very specific term. Is that common?” she asked.

“Well, three people were hit last week, two of them teenagers and the last was an office lady who’d worked overtime. They are probably waking up in different worlds and told to fight the devil king.”

“Devil King?” she asked.

“There’s always a Devil King. Unless it’s a queen. You had Sable, though I suppose you could consider Ozpin a Devil King. Your entire planet’s big problems are due to their bad divorce. Ozpin and Sable used to be married, then some stuff happened and they got cursed with immortality and all the grim since then are part of their custody battle for Remnant. All the people who die are part of the collateral damage.”

“That’s awful. Is that really true?” Pyrrha asked.

“Yeah, I mean, its entertainment. It is a cartoon meant for teenagers. Look at the bright side. You got to retire from being a magical girl without having to kill your best friend or save the world in the process.”

“Do you listen to yourself?” she accused. I considered.

“Okay, sorry. I worded that badly. Happened to me that way,” I apologized, thinking of life as Madoka. What a terrible world that was. I sipped the last of my coffee and wondered what, if anything, I could say. Pyrrha is the equivalent of an Olympic athlete, trained in a very specific sport that doesn’t exist here.

I let her watch the fates of her friends in RWBY and began preparing dinner. Pyrhha was cheering them on in their battle against the weird centaur monster when Jaune began to glow white, repelling the monster and causing it to catch fire and start burning to ash. The wounded huntsman Qrow Branwen examined his rapidly healing wound, regaining color as the poison was cleared from his system.

“Pyrhha… I love you,” he whispered.

“Oh Jauney,” cried Pyrrha to the show screen, trying to touch him. He looked right at the camera. Remnant magic is seriously weird.

Hachiman returned home from school at that moment, carrying some groceries and a look of worry. He approached Pyrrha and hugged her gently. She stiffened at his too-familiar touch, still having trouble accepting the body switching aspect and his genuine feelings for her. This has to be tearing him up. They looked at the screen, end of episode and Jaune’s gaze staring back.

“Took a nap in club an hour ago and managed to save a bunch of villagers from some grim. Jaune knows you are alive, now,” he promised.

We ate dinner together, with Hachiman talking with Pyrrha most of the time. I got a bath, relaxing a lot of tension I did not realize I had. It was good to relax and come out feeling properly clean. I did what little math homework I had easily, now possessing knowledge from the genius scientist, and was able to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

I managed to miss the arrival of our parents, and their discussion about the pregnant girl in their home and Hachiman’s part in that. They were both gone for a few days after that, presumably to properly elope and sign a marriage license. Pyrrha being basically destitute and Hachiman a student, their options were limited. He pulled some strings and used some gold coins to make certain problems go away. I don’t know how that works, but reports in a district of Tokyo with a bent tower and some terrorists seems to be linked. I did not ask.