Yurui The Cursed One

I resist the urge to lean toward the window and check where we’re turning. Miss Maevis is already watching me through the rearview mirror like she expects me to try something.

“I’m glad,” Miss Maevis says, glancing at Yashiro in the rearview mirror.

Yashiro’s eyes narrow immediately. “Why?”

“I was beginning to think you would make it through all five years at the academy without making a single friend.”

“We are not friends.”

I already knew that. Obviously. Every interaction we have ever had has involved Yashiro tormenting me for her own amusement. Only a complete idiot would mistake that for friendship.

Nevertheless, it still stings to hear that spelled out loud.

“You could at least pretend the idea isn’t unbearable.”

Yashiro turns from the window. “You just accused me of harassing you.”

“Accused?” I stare at her. “You say that like I made it up.”

“Fine. Then why do you care? Your harasser doesn’t want to be your friend. That should be good news.”

“You know, now might be a good time to bury the hatchet. Let bygones be bygones. Start over.”

There. An olive branch.

Personally, I have always thought the whole forgive and forget thing was a load of crap. Still, we are trapped in the same car, heading toward God knows where, and this may be the closest thing to a peaceful conversation we have ever had.

Who knows? Maybe it truly is that easy.

Yashiro stares at me as though a cockroach has crawled into the seat beside her and started talking. I shrink deeper into Maevis’s jacket, painfully aware of the remains of my uniform underneath.

“Just forget it.”

So much for that. Of course it wasn’t that easy. Nothing ever is.

Her mouth opens. For the first time since Maevis mentioned friendship, Yashiro seems to actually consider what she said. Her gaze lingers on mine, and for a moment, some of the usual certainty leaves it. Then she turns back to the window without actually saying anything.

The car turns sharply to the right, pulling my attention back to the road.

A pharmacy with blue-tinted windows slips past as the car enters a narrow two-lane street. I memorize the turn automatically, although there is no longer much point in pretending this could be part of the route to Security Force headquarters. We should have continued straight toward the Central District. Instead, the buildings crowd closer around us, and the Miracle Inc. logos I had been seeing every few blocks gradually become fewer until they disappear altogether.

Whatever Maevis has planned for us, it had nothing to do with Security Force headquarters.

The ache in my chest gives way to a much colder feeling.

I glance at the door beside me. It is still unlocked, but that no longer reassures me as much as it did a moment ago.

“Well,” Miss Maevis says, without so much as acknowledging that we’ve just taken a completely different route. “If Yurui isn’t your friend, who is? I was joking when I said you might spend all five years at the academy without making one, but surely there must be someone you get along with.”

“No one,” Yashiro answers bluntly.

“What about the three stooges?” I ask.

Maevis chuckles. “The three stooges? And just who might they be?”

“You know. Sophie, Sophia, and Kamila. Those three.”

“They are not my friends,” Yashiro cuts in. “We occasionally spend time together, that’s it.”

By spend time together, she means tormenting me for their own amusement. What a wonderful foundation for a lasting friendship.

“And Kika?” Maevis asks. “The two of you seem close.”

Yashiro’s gaze drops briefly toward her clasped hands. “We are closer to enemies than friends.”

A small smile spreads across Maevis’s face. “Ah. I see. A rival.”

Yashiro turns toward the window without responding.

Maevis’s eyes shift toward me in the mirror. “What about you, Yurui? Do you have any friends?”

Usually, a question like that would leave me fumbling for some vague answer that did not sound quite as pathetic as the truth.

For once, I have an answer ready.

“Yes, for the matter of fact. I do.”

“Oh?” Maevis’s eyebrows rise. “Tell me about your friend.”

“No.”

The answer leaves my mouth instantly.

There is absolutely no chance I am going to start blabbing about Violet to someone with such close ties to Miracle Inc. God knows what they would do to her if they found out about even half the crap she pulled, and that is only what I know from when we were kids. I can hardly imagine what she has been up to since then.

Maevis watches me through the mirror for another moment. “That was rather quick.”

“My friend prefers her privacy.”

I regret saying the word her the instant it leaves my mouth. Maevis’s interest sharpens, but thankfully, she does not press the subject.

Instead, she glances toward Yashiro. “Perhaps Yurui could teach you something.”

Yashiro looks genuinely offended by the suggestion. “About what?”

“Some social skills wouldn’t hurt, for starters”

I laughed inside a little. The notion of me teaching Yashiro was pretty amusing, if not downright tempting.

“I do not need lessons from her.”

“Well, you certainly need lessons. I wouldn’t be too particular about who gives them.”

“I have no interest in making friends merely because you think I should.”

“Oh, what about Yurui ?”

“No.” Yashiro’s eyes settled on me. “Do not even think of trying to make me friends with that.”

That. She spoke of me like I was a pile of garbage somebody had dumped by the side of the road. The tightness in my chest twists painfully, and I lower my gaze to the shredded pleats of my skirt brushing against my legs beneath Maevis’s jacket.

“Don’t worry. I’d rather lick the floor of a public bathroom than be friends with someone like you.” I reply sharply.

It wasn’t true, but I wasn’t about to sit there and take every insult just because we were stuck in a car headed God knows where. Besides, I was pretty sure I was a fair bit stronger than her now. The days of bullying good old powerless Yurui were officially over.

“Knowing where you live, I doubt licking the floor would bother you too much.”

I could feel my face burning.

My fingers curl into the fabric. Any hope I had of us starting over dies a quick and well deserved death.

“Yashiro.”

Maevis does not raise her voice. She does not need to.

Every trace of warmth vanishes from it. Her eyes remain on the road, one hand resting loosely on the wheel, but Yashiro’s pointing hand immediately falls to the seat. Her back straightens, and the irritation disappears from her face, replaced by a carefully controlled blankness.

“I was joking,” she says carefully.

“That’s no excuse for cruelty.”

Silence.

I couldn’t believe it, the devil herself was defending me. Apparently.

Maevis glances into the mirror.

“Apologize.”

Yashiro’s jaw tightens.

For a moment, I expect her to vehemently refuse. I’ve seen her command entire rooms without blinking and stare down people who could snap her in half as though they were insects crawling too close to her shoes, yet now her hand trembles where it rests on the seat between us. The movement is slight enough that Maevis probably can’t see it from the front, but sitting beside Yashiro, I notice immediately.

“I apologize,” Yashiro says, her voice perfectly steady despite the trembling of her hand.

I have imagined Yashiro being forced to lower her head more times than I can count. Sometimes I was the one standing over her as she begged for mercy. On especially difficult days, the fantasies became inventive enough that I should probably never describe them aloud.

So this should have been satisfying. Someone had finally made her swallow her pride and submit, yet all I feel is a tightness in my stomach as she keeps her face perfectly composed, even while the trembling in her fingers gives her away.

I know that trick. Keep your face calm, keep your voice steady, and hope nobody notices the fear leaking out somewhere else. Apparently, Yashiro and I have at least one thing in common after all. Who knows, maybe she even learned it from me. Glad to know all that bullying wasn’t entirely for naught.

“Mis Maevis,” I say quietly.

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror.

“It’s fine.”

Maevis shakes her head.

"No, it's not. You deserve some respect."

Look who’s talking. Out of everyone who’s made my life miserable lately, she’s easily one of the worst. No—scratch that. She’s probably the worst.

I just shrug.

“I don’t really care”

“That doesn't make it okay to verbally abuse you."

I know that damn well, you dumb bitch, I’m only trying to be polite.

“No, it doesn’t, but if she had to apologize for everything she’d done to me, we would be here until nightfall.”

Yashiro looks at me, and I cannot tell whether she is offended or surprised. Possibly both. Maevis studies us for another second before her expression softens. “Very well.”

The tension in the car finally starts to ease, though Yashiro’s hand is still trembling on the seat between us. Mine stays tucked beneath the jacket where it’s nice and warm, and honestly, that’s where it should stay. Her being scared for once doesn’t suddenly make her the victim, not after everything she’s done to me.

Even so, I pull my hand out and leave it on the seat beside hers. Yashiro glances down but says nothing, and after a while, the trembling starts to fade.

When the car turns again, her hand slides across the leather and brushes mine. I wait for her to move away. She doesn’t. I probably should, but instead we just sit there like that, staring anywhere but at each other while unfamiliar buildings drift past the windows. It means nothing. I haven’t forgiven her, and we are definitely not friends.

Then Maevis pulls into a parking lot and our hands jerk apart like we’ve both been shocked. Any embarrassment disappears the second I notice the dark vehicle near the entrance and the two men standing beside it. Neither of them is wearing a uniform, though that doesn’t prove much. If Maevis really is handing me over, Security Force probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to send uniformed officers to meet us in public.

My gaze sweeps across the parking lot. One vehicle exit, a narrow alley running alongside the building, too many windows facing the street, too many witnesses for anything to happen quietly. Fuck. Exactly the kind of place they would choose if they expected me to lose control in public.

The car slows, and my hand closes around the door handle. Then a wash of pink light spills across the windshield.

I look up.

NEA’S glows in enormous pink letters above the entrance. Beneath them hangs a painted bowl overflowing with scoops of ice cream, complete with sprinkles and a smiling cherry. Through the wide glass doors, I can see pale wooden tables, brightly lit display cases, and several children pressing their faces against the counter.

I stare at the glowing sign, trying to figure out how an ice cream parlor fits into whatever Maevis has planned. Then again, if she wants me relaxed before handing me over, the giant smiling bowl above the entrance is almost suspiciously perfect for the purpose.

Maevis pulls into a space beside a painted cutout sign of a smiling strawberry and switches off the engine.

“Where are we?” I ask.

Yashiro looks at the enormous ice cream bowl above the entrance. “A weapons facility.”

I glare at her. “I wasn’t asking you.”

Maevis unfastens her seat belt. “I thought we could get something to eat before heading to the Security Force HQ. They’ll need at least an hour to prepare the paperwork, and this seemed preferable to sitting in the car while we wait.”

I could feel my heart beating against my ribs.

“So this isn’t Security Force HQ ?”

Yashiro scoffs. “Of course it is. Didn’t you hear? The Security Forces replaced their insignia with a giant bowl of ice cream last week.”

I choose to ignore her.

“And no one from the Security Forces is meeting us here? No one is going to stroll over and say, ‘Oh, Maevis, what a coincidence. Since you’re here, would you mind if we had a look at the girl you brought with you?’”

“Not unless they happen to want ice cream.”

I search her face for some indication that this is a joke. Maevis calmly gathers her bag and opens the driver’s door.

“Why?”

She pauses halfway out of the car. “Because you have both had a terrible afternoon, and I thought ice cream might make the next hour a little less miserable.”

“That’s it?”

“Should there be another reason?”

Yes. There is always another reason.

People do not stop halfway through an abduction to buy their victim dessert. They do not lend her a jacket, leave the doors unlocked, or ask what flavor she wants before delivering her to the same organization that had already kidnapped her once before.

Maevis steps out and closes the door behind her while Yashiro reaches for her seat belt. I stay exactly where I am—right until my stomach growls loudly enough for her to hear.

Apparently, the hunger I’ve been ignoring all afternoon has finally had enough. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and even then, I barely had enough to call it a meal. At this point, I’m running on little more than adrenaline and paranoia.

“You are not coming?” Yashiro asks.

“I am considering the likelihood that this is a trap.”

“It is an ice-cream shop.”

“That does not exclude it from being a trap.”

“You think my sister arranged an elaborate ambush inside a café?”

“I don’t know your sister that well.”

A lie. I know her well enough not to rule it out.

Yashiro looks through the windshield at Maevis, who is already walking toward the entrance.

“Neither do I,” she says quietly.

Before I can decide what to make of that, Yashiro opens her door and gets out.

I watch her cross the parking lot. Maevis reaches the entrance first but waits beneath the painted sign, one hand resting on the door. When Yashiro joins her, they exchange a few words, though I am too far away to hear any of it. Then Maevis heads inside alone while Yashiro turns back toward the car and folds her arms, making it painfully obvious that she is waiting for me.

I still do not trust Maevis, but refusing free ice cream while I am already starving would probably only make me easier to abduct. With that comforting thought in mind, I finally let go of the door handle and climb out.

Whatever comes next, I would rather face it on a full stomach. I can only hope I do not end up regretting that decision.

“Hurry up!” Yashiro shouts from across the parking lot, her scowl visible even from fifty feet away.

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