Chapter Text
Fire possessed a destructive, breathtaking beauty that could only be fully understood when close enough to hear the crackling and smell the acrid smoke. Red, orange, blue, yellow, and white danced together across the fake doctor’s office where severings of innocent children had taken place. With a roar, the roof collapsed. It was nothing to worry about—no one was inside. No one left alive, anyway.
After the flames had eaten away the wood and corpses, the fire ran out of fuel, reaching only a cement parking lot on all four sides. With agonized hisses and pops, the flames died. It almost felt like magic, how fast an inferno could be reduced to mere embers. In its final moments, the fire screamed. Then even the last red hot coals faded.
Joel was not a pyromaniac like some social workers (cough the Nightmare Trinity cough). Still, he had a smile on his lips as he set down his binoculars. “Fire has a unique cleansing property, does it not? From the ashes, new life will grow.”
“More likely someone will build a new shopping mall than a garden.” Craig had never been the romantic type, as Joel had learned even in their relatively short friendship. His feet tapped against the plaster roof. “Just as long as it’s a regular mall that only wants to drain children of their allowances instead of their blood, magic, love, and lives.”
Both of them sat on the roof of a nearby building, watching to make sure the fire didn’t spread beyond what they’d intended. It was only responsible. Charizard (Joel’s senior in social services, founder of the Nightmare Trinity, and the original pyromaniac) had taught him so.
In Craig’s shadow, Ellory yawned. Joel’s face melted into a soft smile. “Awwwwwww.” Encouraged, Ellory leapt into Joel’s lap. Willingly, Joel stroked from the lizard’s head to the back. Ellory was the cutest creature in existence, with darting eyes and spikes like a beard. “Is it okay if I pet him?” Joel asked belatedly and shamefacedly. “And give him a treat?”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s okay, he jumped into your lap. You’re his favorite person—I don’t count, I’m a mere extension to him. You don’t have to keep asking every time. Consider yourself to have blanket permission.”
“In Paradisus, it would be rude not to ask.” Joel found a jelly treat in his pocket. Ellory gobbled it up, chirping happily. How was it even possible for a lizard to be this adorable? “Letting someone touch your shadow is a vulnerability, because many types of yanderes can use poison or other attacks through skin contact.”
“You don’t need to touch me to use your powers.” Craig shrugged.
The world ground to a halt faster than the fire had died.
“What,” Joel stated.
Craig misunderstood the shocked expression. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Honestly? I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you wanted to erase my memories, now we’ve finished hunting down Canada’s severing ring. With a coveted ability like yours, you have to be paranoid to survive. I’d never tell a yandere about you, even under torture. But if it would set your mind at ease, you can erase my memories.”
The problem was that Joel already had.
For the last month, Joel had made sure to use his memory erasure on witnesses only when Craig wasn’t looking. In retrospect, Craig had always been willing to step away…because Craig knew. He’d known the entire time and just never brought it up.
Blood rushed down Joel’s body, the tendons standing out on his neck. It did not precisely feel like fear. He’d been waiting for a long time for someone immune to his power, with a mixture of joyous anticipation and dread. But this did not necessarily mean Craig was immune. He could have been wearing a magical salve to block powers from being used on him. Joel had hooked up Miriam and Brandy with salves because of their daughter’s dangerous power, and Craig could have gotten access through them. The salves were insanely expensive, no normal person would go around wearing one in a non-yandere country for no reason. Except maybe someone as paranoid as Craig. Joel had been able to overcame weaker salves before: it was a complicated calculus of his power versus the power of the yandere who had created the salve versus how badly the target wanted to keep those memories. He’d become overconfident in his willpower. He could have been defeated by Craig’s stubbornness.
Why had Craig seemed to have forgotten Joel trying to erase his memories? If the memory erasure could even partly work, then it wasn’t an obsession.
Craig waved a hand in front of Joel’s face. “Are you okay? You’re blinking rapidly.” Ellory nuzzled Joel’s hand. “Sorry, I forgot that you don’t like to talk about your power.”
Was that how Craig had interpreted Joel’s usual “forget me, please” line? As him saying he didn’t want to talk about it? Then it was possible Craig had an obsession, but wouldn’t a yandere be more careful about hiding it? Joel’s eyes snapped to Craig’s purple jacket. When Craig had first copied the jacket, Joel hadn’t thought much about it, because Craig was undergoing shifting fascinations as a result of recovering from his severing. Had the jacket been a sign of obsession after all? But wouldn’t a yandere never let on about love without confidence in mutual feelings or a vault? Would someone born outside Paradisus be more open? But then, Craig was the most paranoid person Joel had ever met.
“Did you inhale smoke?” Craig asked.
Joel shook his head, snapping himself out if it. “I’m not used to talking about my powers.” That much was true. “Don’t speak lightly of torture, some criminal elements would go so far to get their hands on the ability to cause amnesia. I keep the information on a strictly need to know basis; I only let people know if they work with me on the job. Even York and Riley don’t know, because it’s safer for them.” And maybe a little because Joel didn’t want to admit to having accidentally erased their memories the first time. “Social workers accept risk as part of our profession. You’re working with me on finding severers, so you also have a need to know.”
It would have been logical for Joel to test if his powers worked again, perhaps trying to catch Craig after a rain shower or at home or some other time when he wouldn’t be wearing salve. Why did Joel feel so reluctant to do so? Which outcome was he scared of?
“As long as you feel safe,” Craig said. “Honestly, you probably should erase my memories now that our mission is over. But if you value our friendship too highly, then I will be paranoid on your behalf. No yandere will ever find you through me.” He grinned. “You’re too charming, if everyone knew about your special power too, then you’d definitely fit into the main character slot. That’s how you end up with a harem of yanderes after you.”
“Um.” Joel felt lightheaded. If it truly was an obsession, then Craig would try to find an excuse for them to stay in contact now they’d finished off the severers. It would be a subtle reason, as yanderes always moved carefully and feared rejection more than death.
Craig asked, “Want to visit a café with me tomorrow? I saw online that it has a famous lookout spot for taking pictures, so I need a second person to take a photo of me. The panda-shaped shaved ice looked adorable, I’ll buy yours if you come.”
“Ack.” What kind of straightforward madness was this?! Dizziness and blood rushed to Joel’s head. No one ever asked so casually if it concerned an obsession! What did this mean?
Craig peered at his eyes. “You seem dazed. Seriously, you should get yourself checked out for smoke inhalation.”
That night, Joel dreamt he wore that godawful collar again. The ones his foster parents (owners) always used to punish him. The chain attached to the ceiling, tugging on his neck so he was forced to stand on his tiptoes, on the verge of choking him to death.
Between gasps of air, he said, “Can’t we just put a stop to this already? Riley doesn’t love me.”
“But you love Riley,” his foster mother said. “You exist for Riley’s sake.”
“I don’t want to any longer.” It was a foolish thing to say with the chain running from the rivet in the ceiling to her hand, but he could not take it any longer. “I am tired of chasing after someone who only feels an uncomfortable guilt towards me. I give up! I’d rather you kill me here than die fighting for the love of someone who will never love me in return.”
“No true yandere would ever say that.” Eyes burning, she yanked on the chain. “No true yandere can change their obsession. You’re defective merchandise. Of course you couldn’t secure Riley’s love. Your real self is completely unlikable, you should have just worn a mask forever. No one will ever love you.”
His ears popped, drowning out the last word. His vision went next. His world narrowed to gasping, choking, teeth grinding. A second grinding sound came from the flowers ripping out of his neck. A scorpion’s sting lunged for her.
Even if he was a defect, he didn’t want to die without ever being loved.
Joel awoke gasping for air and staring up at the stained hotel ceiling. The rising sun slipped through a crack in the curtains. He muttered, “I thought I’d stopped having that nightmare.”
The café rested at the top of a windy road that had given Joel carsickness. The view, it must be admitted, was spectacular. Pine trees dotted two yellow cliffs with a waterfall roaring down the middle. Mist obscured the lake below. The pounding water was oddly in time with the pop music playing from speakers overhead. The café had a tall glass window directly facing the waterfall, with observation binoculars that required a coin inserted to use and a cardboard cutout of a headless seal. The lake’s claim to fame was having one of the rare freshwater seal populations.
Craig crouched a little so his neck lined up with the photo stand-in making it appear like he had the body of a seal. He made a peace sign, so apparently he was a one-armed seal. Joel snapped the picture.
“Your turn.” Craig held out his hand to take his phone back.
Yanderes definitely would never be so careless as to let someone else have their phones when they had obsessions, it might reveal their secret picture stash. Should Joel check for one? No, that would be a betrayal of trust. Joel would drive himself crazy if he kept thinking about this. “Nah, I don’t need a seal picture.”
“Are you sure?” Craig’s shadow was in humanoid form, yet still it quirked a finger to beacon him.
Joel was super weak to anything Ellory wanted. It was the adorable beard. “Oh, all right.” He put his head into the photo stand-in next.
After taking the picture, Craig held up his phone to display it. “Good?”
The background was admittedly lovely. The seal looked goofy. Joel winced to see the silver streak in his hair had grown a bit thicker. “Yeah, thanks.”
A teenage girl quickly took their place at the lookout point next. Her friend took multiple pictures in different poses. The tables were full of teenage girls. Looking around, Joel asked, “Did some influencer make this spot temporarily famous?”
“Uh-huh, that’s how I found out.” Craig claimed a seat at one of the remaining few tables, unfortunately not next to a window.
Joel sat across. “Two middle-aged men are very out of place here.”
“Who cares? I want to try the panda shaved ice. People of all ages can enjoy shaved ice.” Craig looked up from the menu. “I never got to try stuff like this when I was younger. Because…you know. Is it boring for you?”
People who had been severed then had their magic returned had to deal with the emotions of a younger person. Joel immediately felt guilty for saying anything. “No, it’s fun. The view here is great. Without you, I wouldn’t even do any tourism on my rare trip to Canada. I’ve always been overly focused on work.”
Craig’s grin returned. “That’s good. I can’t drag Miriam and her family everywhere, they’re busy preparing to move houses to be closer to Dinah’s new school. It’s convenient having a younger relative when I want to watch children’s movies, though. Would you believe I cried harder than Dinah last time? Children’s movies can be shockingly deep!”
When the waiter came, they both ordered the panda shaved ice. Joel got a hot green tea, and Craig water. When Craig asked if they could share loaded French fries, Joel hesitated—then agreed. It would spoil his appetite for dinner, but he could have a light dinner or skip it. How often did he get an opportunity to eat atop a mountain?
The drinks arrived first, completely open and easily able to be tampered with by the waiter or anyone passing by the kitchen. Joel hesitated, fingers on the cup. In a non-yandere country, this was normal. He had no reason to think that anyone would drug his drink. It still went against all his engrained instincts.
Craig pulled poison tests out of his backpack. “Want one?”
Joel glanced around. The waiter would think they were weird. But he wouldn’t be comfortable drinking without a poison test. They were already two old weirdos at a social media hot spot in middle of the afternoon, why care? “Thank you.”
The test came back negative, of course. Unless Craig was the person who’d drugged the drinks and the poison tests were fake…at this point, Joel would welcome such a development because he’d finally get a straight answer about what was going on with Craig. Besides, he was resistant to most drugs after building up a tolerance and he had confidence in his ability to escape any trap or prison. He took a sip. It didn’t taste like any poison he recognized. By the time the loaded fries arrived, he still didn’t feel lightheaded.
Why was that oddly disappointing?
After another poison test, they dug into the fries. Joel ate carefully because of the cheese and crumbled bacon on top, frequently wiping his fingers. Craig dug straight in. He ate so fast that his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
Glancing up, Craig slowed down. “Sorry, I won’t take more than my fair share.”
“It’s fine. I’m not very hungry.” Honestly, it was cute to watch.
“It’s a bad habit of mine to eat too quickly, because I used to not enjoy food.”
That was depressing, not cute. “How do you like the fries?”
Craig’s eyes narrowed as he took the question seriously. “Fun to try, but I think I like plain fries with ketchup more. These taste a bit oily.” He pointed with a sticky finger. “The shaved ice is the important part. I will be very disappointed if it doesn’t look as good as the people enjoying it in pictures made it seem. Worse, I’ll have dragged you all the way up this mountain for nothing.”
“I already had fun.” Perhaps it would be more accurate to say Craig’s enthusiasm made it fun. It had been a long time since Joel had been to a restaurant that hadn’t been an undercover mission. In Paradisus, restaurants were more expensive because of all the security precautions and the food was always prepared in front of the guest. As a result, restaurants were more favored by the rich, as the stage for battles of love and business dominance. It was never safe to relax.
Going to a restaurant in a foreign country was reckless. A lot of establishments would kick him out if they realized he came from Paradisus. If on his own, he would have just gone back to his hotel. He felt glad he had someone to drag him along on an adventure and jolt him out of the funk he’d been in since he’d woken up.
When the shaved ice arrived, Joel quickly licked the cheese off his fingertips when no one was looking. The shaved ice came in a white cup with black panda arms and legs painted on. Chocolate shavings formed the eyes, ears, and mouth, with half a round cookie for ears. At first glance it looked like plain white ice, not very appetizing, but on closer look it had been soaked through with milky pale sauce.
Joel took a bite. His eyes widened. “That’s unexpectedly good.” How had they shaved it so thin that it felt like eating snow?
Craig snapped a picture of Joel.
“Shouldn’t you be taking a picture of your shaved ice?” Joel tried to sound casual.
“You had a nice smile,” Craig said.
Despite the coldness of the ice, Joel’s body temperature shot up. Craig had delivered the compliment matter-of-factly, no trace of awareness about how it would have been interpreted in Paradisus. People in a yandere country were careful about physical compliments and even more careful about revealing their feelings. So saying that definitely would mean something. Surely even in Canada, that smile line would be considered flirting, right?
Craig did not act like someone who’d been flirting. Without even looking at Joel, Craig took a photo of his still untouched shaved ice. “The dessert looks exactly like the pictures online, I’m glad. They even decorated the cup. It’s just what I wanted.” Then he dug in.
Aargh, this was going to drive Joel insane! With Craig, it was impossible to tell his real feelings! He was so straightforward, it was a lethal weapon! The opposite of Joel. Surely someone so blunt wouldn’t hide a crush. But then why had Craig been able to resist the memory erasure? And what about that cheesy pickup line?
What answer did Joel want? How did he feel? He’d always wanted to fall in love, but it couldn’t be just anyone. Even though he was skeptical about Paradisus’ popular notion of everyone having a fated beloved, he’d always wanted to believe.
The first time Joel and Craig had met as adults, they’d mutually made the worst impression on each other. Since then, Joel had developed an intense respect for Craig for surviving severing and fighting bad yanderes. Working together had been fun. Craig brought Joel along to new and interesting places. It made Joel feel younger and more alive. He liked Craig a lot.
But he lacked the courage to love anyone who didn’t love him first.
Riley, lips compressed into a pout: “Stop being so fake. It’s impossible to be your friend if I don’t know who you are!”
His foster father: “You’re defective, unable to use your power properly. If you want to be worthy of love, then you need to be better looking, more charming, and smile more.”
His foster mother: “What kind of worthless yandere gives up on love because it’s unrequited? If you were a proper yandere born in Paradisus, then you would die before giving up on Riley.”
His latest ex: “You’re always holding back. A yandere loves with their entire heart. Are you sure you belong in this country? I think you got deported by mistake.”
Joel’s left foot tapped rapidly as the old memories came back. Even to this day, he didn’t know if he’d ever had any feelings for Riley or if it had all been an act to survive after he’d been purchased as a future beloved. York had been the first real friend Joel had ever made, and when he’d realized York had fallen in love with Riley, it had been easy to step back. A yandere never had an easy time giving up on love. He’d honestly been more worried about losing York’s friendship, the only bond in his life that felt real. By that point, he’d been exhausted trying to balance being what Riley wanted and what Riley’s parents wanted—two very different set of criteria. It had come as a relief to give up.
Next time, Joel desperately wanted someone to pick him first. He didn’t want to fight for the love of someone who viewed his heart like a dead mouse the cat had left on the expensive wool bedspread. He needed proof that he had value. He wasn’t able to open up his heart to anyone who hadn’t opened up to him first. Even if that most certainly made him a defective yandere. Yanderes didn’t care if their love was requited, they made their decision regardless and took what they wanted. It scared him, because maybe his childhood trauma had taken away his ability to love.
“Your shaved ice is melting,” Craig said.
Joel looked down. “Oh, right, thanks.” For some reason, he felt the need to tack on an artificial excuse. “I got brain freeze.”
“Mmm, make sure to take slow bites then.” Craig slowed his own eating.
The waiter interrupted them to put the check down on the table. “This is for when you’re ready, please take your time.” The paper had two heart-shaped dark chocolates on top.
After the waiter had left, Joel picked up a heart-shaped chocolate. “He thinks we’re on a date.”
“As long as we get free chocolate out of it, don’t say otherwise.” Craig put his chocolate on his half-eaten shaved ice.
What kind of a response was that? In Paradisus, people were very careful about love, especially because faking being in love could be a federal crime under some circumstances. It was also a common trope leading to real love. Was Craig playing it cool to hide his feelings? Was this normal behavior in Canada? Was Joel completely losing his mind?
Joel’s foot was tapping again. He made himself stop. “I’m surprised. Don’t we seem too old to be on a date?” He’d meant the question as a probe but ended up hurting himself with it.
“Speak for yourself.” Craig snorted. “People in nursing homes find love together. I’m barely past forty. Now that Rich has vanished and my ‘medical problem’ has been resolved, my future prospects are brighter than ever.” Neither of them would talk about severing in public.
“It must have been rough for you to date in the past. People in Canada aren’t as understanding about someone picking up an obsession.”
“I didn’t want to drag someone else into my issues with Rich, but I didn’t want to let Rich’s threats control my life. So I found a dating app that was exclusively for Canadians with yanderes hunting them. We all shared the same risk, and we understood the need to be cautious, unlike people who’ve never met a yandere. We would arrange hookups to be discreet. Even so, I killed eight yanderes who were targeting my dates.”
Eight?! Joel had only ever dated two people before giving up. This meant Craig had more experience. Joel felt shook, he’d just naturally assumed it would be the other way around. There had probably been more than eight, that was just the number of yanderes who’d found out. At least Joel still had the higher yandere kill count. No one except maybe Felix could take that away from him.
Craig poked his spoon at the last dregs of his dessert, scraping up every bit. “Except for the part where I got to murder some assholes less tough than Rich, dating was a miserable failure. I had my usual problem of never being able to ‘love’ any activity and never forming the barest emotional connection. I played with the labels asexual and aromantic for a while but never felt like they quite fit me.”
“I know what you mean. My attempts at dating failed because of all my baggage.” Joel waved a hand to indicate everything that Craig already knew about his past. “Do you want to fall in love, now that you can?”
Craig looked away. “I’m nervous about the—” he lowered his voice “—urges.”
Joel decided to take a chance, be vulnerable, and see what reaction he got. “I’d like to fall in love. Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve always dreamed about someone grabbing me from behind, pinning me up against a wall, forcing a kiss on me, and confessing their love.”
The spoon dropped from Craig’s mouth and hit the table with a clatter. Stress wrinkles drew together on his forehead. “That’s assault.”
The horrified reaction irked Joel for some reason. “It’s the fantasy of having someone want me so much they can’t control themselves.”
“That kind of person could also be an asshole who doesn’t love you but feels entitled.”
“Don’t interject ruthless reality into my daydreams! I already know it will never happen.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m too old. Joel phrased it more delicately: “Because it’s a silly high school fantasy. Adults don’t court like that. Adults don’t reveal their feelings until they have their beloved inside a vault.”
Craig’s gaze turned even colder and harder. “If anyone forced a kiss on my friend without consent, I’d throw a grenade at them. If someone vaulted my friend, I’d make sure they were dead.”
“Um, check with me first to see if I minded. Courtship is different in Paradisus.”
Craig did not say anything, but he had a hard, stubborn look in his eyes that meant no. His shadow stretched slightly longer at his feet. What did that mean? Was that possessiveness or someone who could not even understand yandere possessiveness?
“You know I can take care of my own enemies.” Joel reached for his wallet.
“No, no, I’m paying,” Craig insisted. “I invited you.” After a little argument, Craig agreed to let Joel pay the tip only.
Craig looked out the window one last time. His eyes sparked as he soaked in the view. That brilliant eagerness for life had not been destroyed even by severing and Rich. Joel had a sudden urge to kiss Craig, see what happened next, settle the question for once and for all.
A stupid idea. Craig had just been clear about how he felt about unexpected kisses.
After they’d paid, they headed for the car. Joel’s legs felt stiff as he stood up. It terrified him. These signs of aging told him that he had a limited time left to work in the field. He had nothing to live for except his job. Perhaps in the future he could switch to a managerial position—it would be his for the asking, because promotions in social services were dangerous, most his coworkers his age had already left, and most social workers wanted to be in the field not do desk work. Although he didn’t dislike the idea, it wouldn’t be the same. He relied on the adrenaline and near-death experiences to stop him from thinking about the yawning emptiness waiting for him back home. The home where he had no one waiting for him, not even a pet. He rubbed his hands together to ward off chills.
“Here.” Craig tossed over a hand warmer, the disposable type activated by air. “I brought one along for you, since your hands always get cold late in the day.”
It was astoundingly considerate, the sort of gesture no one made back in Paradisus for fear of seeming like an overly kind lemming. “Thank you.” Joel turned the handwarmer around, checking to see if it would be possible to poke holes into it and add a contact poison.
Except Craig had just said he didn’t believe in violating consent. It could have been a lie, but Joel believed the sincerity he’d seen in those angry eyes. Craig wasn’t the kind of person who would lie and hide being in love, either. He wore all his emotions out in the open. Since he had no interest in vaulting, he had no reason to lie about being in love.
Joel must have just been imagining everything. It must have been an aloe vera salve that had allowed Craig to avoid the effects of the Forget-Me-Not.
That was better than thinking even someone who overcome his power couldn’t love him.
Despite the handwarmer, Joel felt cold all over.
As soon as they got into the car, Ellory leapt out of Craig’s shadow and into Joel’s lap. “Careful, someone might see you!” Joel bent his body over to hide Ellory from the window. Ellory latched onto his fingers, curling around both his hands and the handwarmer.
Craig started the car. “It’s okay, I have tinted windows. Ellory must have noticed that you look cold too. I’ll turn the heater on quickly.” He reached for the control panel.
A few minutes ago, Joel would have tried to read into it, but he’d gotten over his melodrama. He rubbed Ellory under the chin. A good friend was also a rare and valuable treasure, not a mere consolation prize.
The next morning, Joel did pushups on his hotel floor until he’d worked himself out of his funk. Then he went online to look up interesting restaurants and views. He shouldn’t let Craig do all the work coming up with plans.
Over breakfast, he called Craig. “How do you feel about Asian-Italian fusion food?”
“That sounds like something I’d definitely try once,” Craig said cheerfully. “I love trying new food, thanks for suggesting it. I’m free tonight.”
A text popped up on Joel’s phone. “I just got a message from the Director of Social Services, give me a moment.”
According to his boss, there was currently a clash between two human trafficking groups occurring in Paradisus, near the Canada border. The Division of Social Services didn’t intend to interfere with their enemies fighting each other, but Joel had been asked to watch from a distance and report on the outcome. His power was good at making him unnoticeable, and he happened to be one of the closest agents. Social Services was overworked and overstretched, he should have expected a new mission to come in soon after he’d finished his last one. “Sorry, I’ll have to raincheck on dinner. I’ve been asked to go on a mission in Paradisus near the border. You can go without me, I’ll text you the restaurant name and address.”
“Nah, you found the place, I can wait for you to come back.”
“You don’t have to.” There wasn’t a guarantee Joel would be back any time soon. He had no further business in Canada. Not unless he lied about still looking for a child with a bearded dragon shadow. He was tempted—even though he knew he was more needed elsewhere. Returning home held no appeal to him. He’d go back to eating dinner alone, with his boring unskilled cooking. He’d watch the same mindless TV at night because going out was too much work. Even the opportunity to beat up traffickers no longer seemed as fun as it usually did. He gnawed on his lip. Should he ask Craig to come along on his mission? Craig had been willing to help him out before, it wouldn’t be unreasonable.
Craig said, “Good luck in Paradisus. No force in the universe will ever make me set foot in your insane country again. Even if I get deported, I will go into hiding first.”
Joel closed his mouth around his question. “All right, I’ll text you when I’m done my mission. Who knows, maybe I can even make it back by dinnertime. Probably not, though, customs is intense when it comes to entering Canada.”
The battle raged across a forest—privately owned, so the police wouldn’t even interfere. Joel had found himself a nice, tall tree with thick branches to hide in. If he’d realized the attackers were Cupid’s Arrows, he would have hidden further away.
The defending group of traffickers wore black suits and eye masks like typical organized crime. They were getting their asses kicked by only six people who dressed like they were attending an anime convention. The weirdos with the creative costumes and more power than common sense would be Cupid’s Arrows. These six members all came from the upper ranks of the organized crime family, so Joel knew them by alias if not real name.
Phantom, who wore a white half-mask, a suit, and carried a computer even onto the battlefield. His coral-colored oleander flowers slowly poisoned a dozen enemies as he typed notes on their death throes into his laptop.
Boho, named for the bohemian style of her floral jumpsuit. She didn’t have a power and she was paralyzed from the waist down, which in most law-abiding Paradisus families would have gotten her sold off as a beloved, but the Cupid’s Arrows crime family had armed her instead, then welcomed her as an equal. It gave Joel a strange, itchy feeling that an organized crime family had more acceptance of no power or weaker powers than his own foster family. She laughed maniacally as her wheelchair launched a dozen rockets. Dear gods, she was going to set the forest on fire!
Jester, who perched in a tree (fortunately not the same tree as Joel). He stood out like a giant fruit in his bright purple costume. The bells on the tips of his hat jangled in the wind. His black mask left his mouth visible, revealing his smirk as he watched the traffickers below kill each other under the influence of his power.
Priest in Catholic robes, who clasped his hands together and asked “Forgive me” every time he shot another person. The scent of agrimony drifted off him. He had suppressed the powers of every enemy yandere on this entire battlefield. A true agrimony wielder was even more dangerous than a clipping or salve, able to target the anti-magic.
Sheep, who for some reason wore a full body sheep costume despite (His? Her? Their?) hippo rampaged about knocking over trees and staining the ground with blood. Fortunately, the hippo shadow spotted the fire started by Boho and belched up a blast of water, smothering it.
Fangirl had cornered a trafficker with a broken leg against a tree. Her pink hammer orchid had formed the shape of a giant hammer over her shoulder. Just before her weapon swung down, she stopped it and yanked off his mask. She gasped. “A guy with facial scars, you have become my new favorite type! I think I’ve fallen in love with you.” She bounced up and down, hands on her cheeks. “I don’t mind betraying my family to run off with you.”
The scarred trafficker gasped in desperate relief, then put on a suave expression. “You’re so stunningly beautiful, I’ve fallen into an obsession with you too.” Behind his back, he reloaded his gun.
None of the other Cupid’s Arrows reacted to this proclamation of betrayal. Through his binoculars, Joel saw Boho roll her eyes.
Fangirl beamed. “It’s mutual! I just need to ask you a few questions first. Do you like anime?”
“Sure, love it,” he said in a desperate way that Joel clocked as a lie or at least an exaggeration.
She didn’t seem to notice the insincerity. “Sub or dub?”
“Isn’t dub clearly better? I’m a bit nearsighted, I have trouble reading the words.”
Her face contorted into horror equal to someone who had stepped on a cockroach with her bare feet. “The sub is always superior, you filthy casual!” The hammer smashed down, ripping his head clean off his shoulders. The blood spray struck Fangirl across her Eat, Sleep, Anime, Repeat T-shirt. She whirled around, giggling. “False alarm, it wasn’t love after all.”
Easily, Priest said, “We all understand, love must come before everything else.”
Fangirl raised her fists to the heavens. “When can I finally meet a decent man? I don’t have high standards. I just want a beloved who doesn’t have bad takes on anime. Is that too much to ask?” Behind her, the hammer continued grinding the rejected suitor into red pulp as flat as paper.
All members of Cupid’s Arrows were insane. Now, this might sound like hypocrisy coming from a social worker. But Joel was insane in pursuit of justice and protecting people who could not protect themselves. Cupid’s Arrows were a bunch of human traffickers who called themselves matchmakers. Their philosophy: nothing mattered except love. They would kidnap both powered and nonpowered people to sell to their clients, but unlike all other traffickers, they refused to finalize a sale until after an obsession had developed. Woe to anyone who abandoned a beloved who had been sold to them by Cupid’s Arrows, because they would be hunted down and tortured to death. They charged five times the prices of other traffickers yet still got business, because crazy though they might be, they had a rare gift for matching yanderes with the right person to trigger an obsession.
They fancied themselves idealists, fighting for love because no law should ever restrict love, and looked down on all other traffickers. In Joel’s eyes, though, all slavers were vile beyond redemption, including them. They would celebrate rape and torture as long as it came from love.
What on earth had them fighting this much more obscure group of traffickers? Given how they were slaughtering without letting a single person escape, Joel expected this to be motivated by revenge. Cupid’s Arrows was a family business that also included dozens of branch families and a huge number of employees adopted as siblings, such that they numbered in the hundreds. Some estimates even put them at a thousand, as they had bases across many cities. They possessed a rare and deadly ability that made them the most dangerous type of yanderes: the ability to work together. They loved each other like family. They helped each other like family. They hunted as a pack.
Most yandere families or “families” would collapse as soon as two people started fighting over the same beloved, but Cupid’s Arrows had a strange love where two members could fight to the death, the loser would be mourned, and they would accept the winner back with no grudges, only pure familial love. They lived in a hedonistic way, where any day could be your last so you always made sure to have no regrets. They did not hold grudges if one of their own died in pursuit of love because they considered it to be the natural cycle of life. But if their current enemies had killed one of their own for money or another unworthy reason, that might explain the massacre.
Just to make the Cupid’s Arrows family even more annoying, they had a history of hunting social workers as “top tier beloved material,” as they would say in the same tone that nonpowered would talk about marrying a doctor. The agape love of social workers was considered insane by most of yandere society. Cupid’s Arrows might not understand protecting the weak, but they found ferocity and devotion to protecting others to be beautiful. Social workers tended to be overworked, from traumatic backgrounds, and too busy on the job to form close personal ties—exactly the kind of people who Cupid’s Arrows believed needed some love in their loves. Sure, the social workers were also insanely dangerous and likely to murder anyone who targeted them. But according to Cupid’s Arrows, a yandere who died simply hadn’t been worthy.
Joel desperately hated Cupid’s Arrows for having taken some of his coworkers in the past. He would have been tempted to join the battle and help kill them, but this fight was too one-sided already and there were too many powerful players on the field. He knew better than to think he could solo a team with agrimony on their side.
He’d been about to slip down from the tree and vanish, when he spotted movement amongst the bramble. It was so distant, he could barely see through his binoculars. On closer look, those thorns were actually a cage created by a plant user. A tiny hand, the size of a child, tried to reach out. A thorn drew blood.
Joel hissed. This had just become his business.
He slipped down from his tree, moving in a wide circle so he stayed out of range of the agrimony. Upon reaching the thorns, he knelt down and sawed through with a military knife.
A girl perhaps eight to ten years old crouched in the cage. Her school uniform had been stained with mud, her wrists and ankles had been bound, and she’d been gagged. She glared with furious, untrusting eyes.
Joel flashed his badge. “I’m not with the traffickers. I’m Joel de los Santos, a social worker. I’m here to rescue you. I’m going to remove the gag, please don’t speak above a whisper.”
Her face melted into a huge grin. As soon as the gag came out, she whispered, “Whoa, I’ve never met a real social worker before. I heard you’re the most brave and beautiful people in Paradisus.” Two daisies sprouted from her earlobes.
This was a pleasant change of pace, most people saw social workers as cockblockers. “You’re very brave for surviving those monsters.” He cut through the rope binding her. “Be quiet and follow me.” He could use his power to make anyone who saw them immediately forget them, just as long as he didn’t get too close to that heretical excuse of a Priest and his agrimony.
As soon as Joel ducked out of the cage and stood up, a daisy latched onto his hand from behind. His entire body turned heavy. His plant tried to sprout, but he fell too fast. The girl much smaller than him managed to grab his shoulder and ease him to the ground.
Her white flower hadn’t been a daisy, it had been chamomile—a plant with sleeping powers. Joel should have realized she must be a member of the Cupid’s Arrows family. They were matchmakers, they never trafficked children, it only made sense for them to chase this girl if she was one of their own. Had he grown careless with his fretting over love and aging? In his defense, who would be stupid enough to kidnap a child from the Cupid’s Arrows Crime Group? Even for a plant with a valuable sleeping drug, they should have known they would all die.
The girl waved her arms in the air until she attracted attention. “Big brother! I caught a social worker as my first prey!”
Jester grabbed the girl and swung her up in a hug. “You little genius, you caught our ideal prey at such a young age, this sets a record. I’m so happy you’re not hurt.” He kissed the top of her head. Then he set her down. Kneeling, he took Joel’s pulse.
Joel fought to shake off the gloved hand, to activate his scorpion’s sting, but he couldn’t even twitch. His eyes felt as if ants crawled over them. Against his will, his lids closed, plunging him into darkness.
Sincerely, Jester said, “Thank you for rescuing our dear sister. We will repay you with the greatest gift, finding love.”
Joel tried to say “Fuck you” but his tongue had gone numb. With a mere “Fffffffffffffffffffffffff” he lost consciousness.