Yurui The Cursed One

For once, the silence between Yashiro and me is not awkward. She sits beside me with her hands folded in her lap, looking through the windshield, and I am content to sit quietly beside her and do the same. Neither of us seems particularly eager to speak, but unlike before, the quiet does not feel like something I need to escape. If anything, it is almost peaceful, giving me a brief reprieve from the nerves that have been steadily building since we pulled into the parking lot.

I can see the large red letters stretch above the entrance.

MIRACLE INC. SECURITY

I have spent most of my life hating Miracle Inc. Deservedly so, I might add.

For years, Miracle Inc. had represented everything that existed beyond my reach. Money, power, blessings—the things that kept Miracle City bright, its streets clean and its people safe, while Mom and I watched from the outskirts and learned to make do without any of it. I had spent so long blaming them for everything that was wrong with my life that the idea of willingly becoming part of their Security force should have felt like some kind of betrayal.

Instead, sitting here and staring at those doors, I find myself wanting it badly enough to make that resentment feel oddly uncomfortable. I want the uniform, the money, the safety and power that comes with it. More than that, I want to walk into a place like this without feeling as though someone is about to notice I do not belong and throw me back out. I still do not trust Miracle Inc., and I am nowhere close to forgiving them for what they represent, but apparently those feelings become much harder to hold onto when they finally offer me a place on the side I spent my whole life looking in at from afar.

Still, it is hard to know what to make of any of this when Maevis has been strangely nice to me ever since we left school. She fed me, gave me the jacket currently keeping me warm, arranged all of this with Security forces and, somehow, even managed to smooth things over between Yashiro and me, at least a little.

The thought leaves me more conflicted than I would like to admit. I still have every reason to hate Miracle Inc., yet sitting here in front of their headquarters, I cannot pretend I do not want what they are offering me.

Before I can dwell on that contradiction any longer, a knock against the window beside my head makes me jump.

Maevis stands outside, motioning for me to come out.

Well, here goes nothing.

I reach for the handle, only to hear the seat shift beside me. Yashiro is already moving to follow, but Maevis stops her before she can get out.

“You stay. I’m only escorting her to the entrance.”

Yashiro pauses halfway to her feet, her fingers tightening around the edge of the seat before she slowly lowers herself back down.

“All right.”

Maevis turns away without another word.

I climb out and close the door behind me before falling into step after her. From here, without the car window between us and the building, Security Force headquarters feels considerably more imposing. Dark glass covers most of the building’s front, broken up by broad stretches of pale stone and concrete, while the silver hand-and-star emblem of Miracle Inc. hangs above the main entrance like a seal stamped onto the building itself.

People in black uniforms move steadily through the entrance, carrying equipment cases and all sorts of gear I don't recognize.

A broad-shouldered woman with horns curling behind her ears pauses beneath the small canopy above the entrance to light a cigarette. Nearby, two men in dark Security uniforms argue loudly beside a vending machine, their voices carrying across the lot. Most importantly, not one of them seems particularly interested in me. Nobody reaches for a weapon, calls for backup, or even looks twice in my direction. Safe to say, I probably am not getting arrested today.

That should make me feel better.

Instead, the closer we get to the entrance, the more aware I become of how badly I stick out. Everyone around us is dressed in dark uniforms and moves with the easy confidence of people who know exactly where they are going. In comparison, I must look like a complete mess. I am still rocking the same school skirt, scuffed shoes, and Maevis’s oversized coat, looking less like a newly recruited prospect and more like some stray student who accidentally wandered in off the street.

My pulse quickens with every step toward the entrance. Whether that is excitement or nerves, I honestly cannot tell anymore.

Maevis, meanwhile, walks beside me without the slightest hint of concern, as if there is nothing unusual about any of this.

“I spoke with the people who make the final call on new appointments.”

I glance at her.

Something about her tone immediately puts me on edge.

“And?”

“They weren’t particularly happy about giving a complete rookie an officer rank.”

I almost miss a step.

“An officer?”

That is the first I have heard of any rank. Maevis told me she could get me into Security Forces, which was already more than I had ever imagined possible, but becoming an officer right from the start is an entirely different story. Then the rest of what she said sinks in. Of course they weren’t happy about it. I have no training, no experience, and until this morning my biggest responsibility was making it through another school day. There is no sensible reason anyone should just hand me an officer’s rank.

Still, for something I never even knew was on the table, losing it is surprisingly hard to swallow.

“It’s fine.”

Maevis gives me a look.

“I mean it.” I shrug, hoping it hides at least some of the disappointment. “I never even dreamed I’d be able to join Security in the first place, let alone as an officer. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.”

I look up at her.

“So… thank you. Really. For everything.”

Maevis’s brow furrows.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Giving up the second someone puts a wall in front of you.”

I blink.

She sounds genuinely annoyed.

“I said they weren’t happy about it. I didn’t say you weren’t getting the position.”

It takes me a second to take it in.

“What?”

“They rejected the appointment at first.” Maevis slips her hands into her coat pockets. “I made a few calls, reminded some people of favors they owed me, and they reconsidered.”

I stop walking.

Maevis makes it another couple of steps before looking back.

“You’re still getting the officer position.”

For a moment, I can only stare at her.

I had already resigned myself to starting at the bottom, only for Maevis to tell me she had somehow taken their rejection and turned it into an approval.

“Wait. You actually got them to approve it?”

Maevis nods and starts walking again. “I told you, I called in a few favors. Some of the people involved owed me quite a bit, and fortunately for you, they weren’t in much of a position to argue.”

I hurry to catch up with her.

“Miss Maevis, what exactly do you mean by ‘quite a bit’ ?”

“Enough that nobody upstairs is going to give you flack over this.”

That does not reassure me nearly as much as she seems to think it should. If anything, it makes me wonder how deep in Maevis’s debt someone has to be before handing an untrained seventeen-year-old an officer position starts sounding like a reasonable idea.

“Miss Maevis, we’re going to get into so much fucking trouble.”

Being fast-tracked into a career I never thought I could have is exciting right up until I start thinking about what happens if someone decides Maevis pushed things too far. If this blows up in our faces, I am probably the last person equipped to deal with the fallout.

She just laughs and reaches over to ruffle my hair. My shoulders tense before I can stop them, though Maevis gives no indication that she noticed.

“Relax. Nobody is going to come after you over this. The people I spoke to had the authority to approve your appointment, and after a little persuasion, that is exactly what they did. Unorthodox, perhaps, but hardly illegal.”

“Sounds pretty corrupt to me.”

“Networking,” Maevis corrects with a smile. “You’ll learn the difference once you’ve been here long enough.”

I am not convinced there is one, but arguing about it feels pointless when the result is standing directly in front of me.

Me–an officer.

Even now, the idea refuses to settle properly in my head. I glance toward the entrance again, watching another pair of black-uniformed Security personnel disappear through the glass doors. Until a few minutes ago, wearing one of those uniforms had not even been something I knew I was allowed to imagine.

Now, for the first time, I can almost picture myself in one.

The thought has barely settled before Maevis speaks again.

“There are a few caveats.”

I turn to her, and the small amount of confidence I had managed to gather immediately starts slipping away.

“Caveats ?”

Maevis answers with a faint smile that does absolutely nothing to reassure me.

Of course there are. For a second there, I almost forgot who I was dealing with.

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