30 White Rabbit

So it was that Hina, a hybrid of so many strange things, found herself seated at a café table with the man who used to teach her. They'd stopped at a clothing store, sensei's treat, and so Hina had gotten changed into modest black pants, a warm burgundy sweater and running shoes, her other clothing now stowed in a simple backpack along with Kitsune's Fang. The waiters here... well, this was where Hina had once worked part-time to buy what she wanted or needed. Some of these waiters and waitresses, she knew by name... and some were new hires, entirely unknown to her. All of them, though, would never in a thousand six hundred and two years recognize who it was that sat at the table- and they wondered. Hina couldn't help noticing the stares at her hair, streaked black and white, or her ears, or the tail that flicked behind her, or the deep green eyes that bespoke somebody foreign. Well, at the very least, they'd be right about the foreign part, she supposed.

"Hina," sensei spoke softly. "Do you remember my name? You haven't said it, yet."

"Ha... I'm sorry, sensei, I don't. There's so much I've forgotten; it was mentioned that being summoned addles your mind to make your adaptation easier, so I'm afraid a lot of things that I'm not even aware of have probably slipped at this point."

"I see... so, you were kidnapped and brain washed for the purpose of serving others?"

"Yes, and it went wrong, left me stranded in the woods, hunted, and... like this," Hina murmured, gesturing vaguely toward her face. "So, I suppose... it's nice to meet you, my name is Hina... Emilia. Hina Emilia."

"Hina Emilia... well it's a pleasure to meet you as well, young miss. My title is Sensei Ishika, but you, I would prefer that you call me Haruto, my first name, since you've given me yours. Where are you from, Hina Emilia?"

"Oh, you know, somewhere distant, far off... you can call me foreign, I suppose."

"I'm certain I can, yes- and, Hina, I suspect that in your far off home, you've seen worse things than I or most on Earth will ever be able to compare with. It's a relief to see you sitting here strong." The Badger Girl smirked, biting down a laugh.

"I suppose you could say that, Haruto. So... shall we order, my new friend, I guess?"

"I'd like to think so," Haruto answered without specifics.

~~~

So they left the cafe, the two of them, not what one would expect to see walking down a general avenue toward the nearby parking lot. The middle-aged man born somewhere between the seventies and eighties of the past century. His hair was still sleek and black, and he had aged well, passable for twenty-eight or thirty when he was approaching double that... but there was wisdom in his brown eyes. This was a man who'd seen the world, who stood tall, and who would tackle any challenge the world threw at him.

Beside him strode a young woman of perhaps nineteen years or so, but her appearance aside, she was a sight. Those green eyes did not carry strength, but rather a brokenness and a deep-seated, perhaps even unknown hatred. What was it, that she hated so? Did the strangely-dressed character hate a boyfriend? A parent? Or perhaps, did a hatred for humanity burn in her belly, for the disgusting creatures who took and took and shoved their way around, playing at god just to gain a leg up, needing to be put in their place even though it never seemed to happen? One so young surely couldn't have trauma to justify this, no...? Yet, something about that gaze belied horrors untold.

Was it not a sad reality, that the young of our world are so regularly subjected to worse than ever they should have to? So repeatedly battered and broken, yet kept in the shadows, forced to watch and let their hate fester for those in the light, whose biggest concerns are little more than sex or money or a car... and some of these people break, vanish into the night and never return to the waking world. A child forced to grow up may not even realize the unjustness of their life, not for a while and maybe not ever... but from the outside, it would be more than obvious to one who only looked, and while some people could not possibly care less... some of us realize that occasionally, mere children see more, worse and faster than even most war veterans could compare to. A sad world, but it is one that we live in, and humans won't change, not in the important ways... so we are doomed to repeat until we end, damnable as most of us are.

Yet, it was not a sad gaze that cast on that old house that Hina hadn't seen in nearly a year... it was a frightened one.

"Do you want to go alone, Hina?" Haruto, Sensei Ishika, smiled and paused at the bottom of the path. "He's your father, and I'm just homeroom teacher."

"I think I'd like if you came with me," Hina answered truthfully, her tail unwillingly starting to twitch about. The sky was dark, now, not many stars to be seen here in the Tokyo area... but lamplight glistened on her glossy hair, reflected in emerald eyes that feared the trip to the door. For the moment, Hina was not a god-slayer or a warrior... just a timid child about to see her father again.

"Of course I will, then," Haruto answered kindly, beginning to walk to the door with Hina, even going so far as to knock and stand there, probably so that the first thing her dad saw when opening the door wasn't alarming- at least, not in the way a beast girl would be. After a few long moments, he answered the door... a simple Japanese man, average in every way, the cliché that narrow minded people, idiots and racists think of when they hear "Japanese man." Yet his face was not neutral... he was tired, so very tired, and Hina for now, held her tongue, unable to speak even should she want to.

"Ishika-san? What are you doing here? Who...?" He was looking tiredly over Haruto's shoulder, to Hina.

"Nakano-san, may I come in with this young woman? I swear to you that it will be worth your time. Ah, and if we may use first names, it would be appreciated; tonight is not one for formalities."

"Ah, alright, sure..." Hina's father, a man called Akihiro, though she'd never used the name much even under his roof, turned and led the way inside. For him to let an entirely foreign stranger inside so easily... was he too tired to mind what happened, or was he simply that trusting of Haruto...? Either way, Hina slowly seated herself with her old teacher on a couch, watching Akihiro step for his favorite seat, a soft green armchair, and stop midway.

"Do either of you need drinks?"

"I'm alright, thank you," Haruto spoke, smiling warmly. "I suspect Hina here would love some coffee, though, would you have anything sugary and fattening?" At these words, a dark look passed over Akihiro's face, but he nodded.

"I... do, yes. I'll be right back." Headed to the kitchen, he returned and passed Hina a bottle of just the sort of sugary desert coffee she'd always loved as a teenager... just like her father to keep these things around even if he personally hated him. The badger girl wanted to speak... but she couldn't manage; she felt choked, almost strangled, and Haruto smiled, patting her knee.

"I can start the story, Hina. So, Akihiro... this evening I was sitting in my classroom grading English papers when I noticed her sitting at a desk where surely she hadn't been a moment before. Obviously, you can imagine my surprise... I mean, look at her." Haruto chuckled softly, and Akihiro watched passively, almost warily, likely unsure where exactly this was going. Who could blame him?

"Yes... she was at a desk in front of me, and this young woman calls herself Hina Emilia. She told me a crazed tale, truly... a magical world of half-humans, demons, wicked kings and undead sorcerers... it doesn't sound like something that could be believed, right? She even said that she's met the angels of the Christian God, and formed an alliance with our own Inari... but Akihiro, would you be so kind as to guess where this story began?"

"I'm sorry, no, just keep going?"

"Not a problem. It started with ten 'summoned heroes' who were suddenly guided to their deaths by an unknown force from this other world. Started... with death in the world they came from."

"Namely by... subway stairs," Hina murmured breathlessly, staring at her father without realizing her own intensity. What if he didn't believe her? At the thought, her heart beat harder than it already was.

"Subway... stairs...?" Akihiro paled, slowly sitting up a bit straighter.

"Indeed," Haruto agreed. "I believe Hinata and Aika fell down those stairs together, did they not? Oddly enough, this girl has shown up with tales of herself, and among others, a brown-haired girl who was summoned at the same time as her, of Japanese origin, who is, to be blunt, almost certainly Aika. If this girl, Hina, is telling the truth, and she was killed in her original home in a way involving subway stairs... where do you think that leaves us, Akihiro?"

He, Akihiro, could only stare for the moment it seemed, gripping the arms of his seat with force enough to whiten his knuckles.

"I know it sounds outlandish, Akihiro, bu-" Haruto began, trying to help more, but Hina cut him off now, speaking in a wavering little voice.

"My mother, was an American. You married her in spite of what your friends said, thinking that she was... just being targeted by racists. However, she tried to kill me, again and again, without you knowing... and you did eventually find out... she threatened to kill you, if you told on her... and you did, so the police came, but not fast enough to stop her trying to k-kill us both... you killed her, to s-save me, said it didn't matter if you l-loved her, I had a life to live. I worked at w-white rabbit cafe, and I vented to you, said I never managed to feel emotions like others..." Hina's eyes stung, and Akihiro was staring blankly even as he teared up, a fat tear hitting his left cheek.

"It was White Rabbit that I worked at... I had a weird obsession for that European story, Alice in Underland, so at first the job was a tired humor... I had good grades in school but no passion for academics, I told you it was just to give myself a better sh-shot at a... at a good job later on in life. You keep these sugary coffees around because I love them, I always did, and I said that black coffee tastes... disgusting to me, and I'd jokingly threaten to pour a bunch of cream into your coffee when we ate together o-on the weekends..." Hina took a breath, glaring at her father, demanding his attention as she steadied herself, continued.

"You were proud of me, and you reminded me of that every day. You don't like praise but you always told me that I... was enough," Hina finished, suddenly sagging a bit, resting her chin on her hands, eyes halfway closing. "I can't force you to see truth... but this isn't an elaborate prank. It's been quite a ride, these past months, let me tell you that... but it's me, and I didn't really fall, I was murdered and kidnapped."

For a moment, there was only silence, Akihiro no longer leaking tears but eyes watery nonetheless. Eventually, Haruto slowly stood, smiling tiredly.

"I'm happy, more than, Hina. Do visit me again when you get the chance, but for now I'll leave you and your father to catch up. Akihiro, you're a traditional man, you believe in the kami, no? They've messed with your son, but that's her. Have a good night, the both of you, and thank you for your hospitality." Waving and then offering a small bow, Haruto slowly made his way into the hall, soon leaving the house, door clicking softly shut behind him. Neither Akihiro nor Hina looked that way though, they simply stared each other down for a moment... and then, slowly, lips twisting, the man who called Hina son- or rather, daughter- and spoke softly.

"Well... it's been a while... Hina, was it now? I think... we've got some catching up to do. Maybe I'll have one of those coffees too, to make sure I don't get too sleepy... I've quite taken to that sugary junk in the past few months, for some reason..."