Backlash

Chp 48

I should have been focused on the video call. Instead, I was dealing with what I suspected was a full-body stress headache. It was all I could do to rub my temples and focus on not throwing up.

It reminded me a little of when I coughed up the boon, an acid feeling of something not right about to happen. Only this time, it was much milder, and nothing ended up coming out. I’d profited from it but wasn’t interested in developing a gacha-based gag reflex.

Dawn was handling talks with the Catkin Felix. She had a talent for leadership. It had only taken a brief conversation about the negotiation’s goal for her to grasp what to do.

“I don’t understand why his map data for a few weeks is worth so much,” Henry said. He’d been with me since the incident with my core. At the moment, he was letting me borrow his thigh as a pillow while I laid on the couch. The desire to go curl up around the traitorous rock was still strong but manageable.

Or at least I kept telling myself that. The pain had started after I refused to give in for a while. Now my only solace was I wasn’t alone as I couldn’t even float naturally. As if sensing I was in low spirits, Henry gave my hand a squeeze, and I felt a little better.

“He’s patient zero,” I replied. There was a long pause in the wake of my words.

“What the fuck is a zero patient?” Chris asked loudly, sending a lance of pain through my head. I didn’t bother scolding him, knowing by this expression it was an accident. When he meant to do something, he did it proudly. When it was a mistake, he looked away like nothing had happened and would rather die than admit to guilt.

Like Henry, he’d been staying with me for hours on end. He’d only left once when Andrea came and pulled him away after he ignored a summons from her. It was sweet, even if he was a surly brat most of the time.

“It’s the first person to contract a disease. He had to get it from the source, which is likely near Dr. Satan’s dungeon if not part of it,” I explained. That disturbing little nugget of information had been listed like a fucking achievement in Felix’s data.

“That’s… I thought diseases would come from polluted air,” Henry said. It took me a moment to focus as a stronger wave of nausea rolled through me. They were coming less often, which I took as a positive sign that the urge to go to my core would die down too.

“Air can’t spontaneously become disease-bearing. For it to spread disease, it has to come from an infected person. It starts from their lungs and contaminates their breath,” I explained. The conversation reminded me of that awful children’s song about the black death. At least one school of thought at the time had also suggested it was caused by bad air.

“It can carry poisons, though,” I added. Chris gave a sage nod. I suspected his knowledge was work-related rather than academic. With my mini-lecture over, Henry and I settled in to continue watching the negotiation.

I could hear Chris fidget but didn’t think much of it. He was too high-energy to remain in one place long unless he had an activity. That he was fighting his normal instincts to keep me company was sweet.

I had a window open so we could all watch the negotiation together. It wasn’t the most entertaining thing, but Felix kept it from being boring. Chris would probably have preferred a league match, but there weren’t any scheduled for the week due to our visitors.

“Why does it even matter?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. Felix had some odd requests for his side of the deal, but they weren’t anything I couldn’t supply. I hadn’t stopped to consider any deeper meaning to them because of that. A bad habit I was developing since I didn’t operate on standard scarcity principles.

“It might…” I started but fell silent as I looked over at Chris. He was glaring at me, and I doubted it had anything to do with the Catkin’s requests. He looked away, but I couldn’t miss the tense posture now, even if I hadn’t seen his expression.

“Henry, could you give us a minute?” I asked. Henry hesitated before helping me to sit up. Despite doing as I asked, he didn’t let go of my hand until the last moment.

Henry pointedly didn’t look at Chris. I had to wonder what was going on. It was strange. As if he was angry but not quite.

Chris looked over and did a double-take. He watched Henry leave the room as if he was witnessing something miraculous.

“Hold on-” Chris said, shocked. Once Henry was gone, Chris looked from the door to me like he was expecting a scolding.

“Chris, come sit with me,” I said. He hesitated, looking back to the door again. Finally, he compromised and came over to stand close to me. I sighed but was grateful I wouldn’t have to raise my voice. Calling him had left my head ringing for a few moments.

“So, I’ve done something to upset you,” I said at a tolerable volume.

“No,” Chris said immediately.

“Bullshit,” I replied without hesitation.

“Right, I’m the one who’s full of shit,” Chris shot back sullenly.

“Meaning what?” I prodded.

“You’re still worried about that disease,” He replied, jaw tight as he spoke.

“Yes?” I said. That much was common knowledge. Why he had a problem with it, I didn’t understand.

“Even after getting worked up over, it caused you to… get sick,” Christ started angrily. It was toward the end that his voice cracked, giving away something more complex. I hadn’t expected him to have thought the matter out to that extent. I’d assumed I’d he was upset I wasn’t well and lashing out. I was too stunned to reply.

“You want to make everything fun and help people, but what the fuck happens if you disappear? What happens to us!? I like it here! I don’t want to end up somewhere else because you died!” Chris continued, tripping over his own words. It was his default to lash out or run away when his feelings overwhelmed him.

Listening to him, I felt a little heartbroken. I understood feeling overwhelmed by uncertainty.

“The hounds said they were freer once their Master disappeared. I don’t want it to happen, but even if it does, I’ll make sure this place is-” I said, wanting to reassure him. If the dungeon were well designed, it would stand for some time even if I weren’t there at the helm. Chris dropped to a knee in front of me, his hands slamming down on my shoulders to interrupt me.

“Fuck that!” He shouted. For a moment, I thought he was going to shake me. I realized a beat late his arms were trembling. No matter how complete an illusion of life was, it didn’t include things natural to a living person. Tears and shaking breath would always be missing.

Chris looked almost composed, despite the pain his expression had contorted with. Fuck, I was stupid sometimes.

He was worried I’d die.

Yet I’d been trying to comfort him about the dungeon’s layout. I wasn’t used to him expressing something like fear in such a raw way. I had no idea what I could say to him. I looked at him, almost like a younger brother. That he’d grown attached to me in return wasn’t something I’d expected.

At least not to such an extent. Yet I couldn’t deny it as Chris stayed still and didn’t try to crack a single joke.

“I-” I started talking without a plan but didn’t get far. My hand reached for Chris’s shoulder to comfort him when he stood up as if scalded. He looked at me with a blank expression that crumpled into something uneasy.

He’d flinched the one time I’d hugged him before. I hadn’t given it a lot of thought at the time, but now something occurred to me. He’d frequented prostitutes and lived with a nihilist death cult during life. He wasn’t used to being consoled or touched platonically, for that matter.

“I swear I won’t let anything happen to myself or this place without a fight,” I said finally. I didn’t know all the rules. I suspected it wasn’t even possible, so it was the only promise I could offer. Or rather, the only one I felt like I might be able to keep.

“Really?” Chris asked, tone weak, though he was trying to demand answers.

“Seems like you’d rather play hero,” He added harshly. I wanted to sigh but held it in. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t the moment for nuance. He was anxious, not looking for a philosophical debate.

“Chris, this place is my home. You, and everyone here, are my family,” I said. My role and the degree of influence it gave me over others was suspect, but it didn’t change how I felt. Not saying it aloud because I was scared hadn’t made things better for anyone. It was time to stop getting caught up inside my own head.

“I’m not going to abandon you. Not to play hero and not to… whatever this is,” I finished.

“… Why’d you do it anyway? Did it feel good or something?” Chris asked, looking away from me.

“No. It was a sense of disconnect, one I thought would let me calm down and gather my thoughts,” I explained. Getting stressed out on my own in an attempt not to worry others wasn’t productive. It might even have triggered the incident with my core. Even if it hadn’t, though, it was the wrong way to handle things.

“I thought it would be like sleeping,” I admitted. I almost laughed at that idea. I’d have been correct if you used sleep as a metaphor for death.

“Oh,” Chris said and looked a little sympathetic now.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I had no idea,” I said, holding my arms out to invite him for a hug. He looked at me in confusion until I moved my hands to suggest he come over. He was hesitant, but I trusted him to object. Or stab me. Both were possible if he got uncomfortable.

In the end, he walked over and sat next to me. I put my arms around him, and he didn’t flinch this time. He didn’t hug me back either, but after an awkward moment, he rested his head on my shoulder.

“Okay,” He mumbled, still sounding unhappy. He didn’t endure it long. Like a cat, when he was done, he wiggled free and turned to go. Not so much as a goodbye, but I let him off since I could see his face was scarlet with embarrassment.

My solitude didn’t last. Henry hurried over to check on me almost as soon as Chris left.

“A-are you al-alright?” He asked as he sat beside me. I nodded, my condition roughly the same as when he left. I slumped against him but didn’t lay down like before. He took my hand all the same and ignored my tail wrapping around his leg.

“You-you s-said th-this hap-happened before. The-the ur-urge. Did p-p-pain f-for not-not g-going to-to it?” Henry asked softly.

“No, I shook it off, and nothing happened. This could be withdrawal… Like aching for a drug you stopped talking,” I said cheerlessly.

“Th-that’s the-the n-name o-of that fe-feeling?” Henry muttered. I nodded, and he changed his position. He went from sitting to half reclining in the crook of the couch’s arm and back.

He let go of my hand to pull me into a hug. Resting against him was comfortable. I’d been tense since the incident, but having him with me was reassuring.

“M-m-may I-I?” He asked. I had no idea what he was asking permission for but nodded anyway. A moment later, his hand was gently running down from my head to my back. It seemed like he was a practiced hand at soothing people.

The feeling was enough to distract me a little and helped me feel better. It was a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but I appreciated it like most things he did.

“Hey, Henry? Earlier, I told Chris everyone here is like family to me,” I said. He gave a small murmur of agreement. I couldn’t see his expression but felt his hand pause for a moment before he continued.

“He’s like my kid brother,” I added. That won a chuckle from Henry.

“C-can’t s-say I see the resemblance,” Henry said dryly.

“I’m scared that because I’m the dungeon master, my feelings influence everyone else’s,” I admitted. It had been bothering me for a long time.

“W-why?” Henry asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“... You have to listen to me, and I think everyone likes me. That’s not exactly normal,” I said, knowing it sounded pessimistic. Even so, it was odd I’d come up against so little friction. I was dealing with sapient beings with diverse personalities.

Henry didn’t have a quick answer. Silence stretched between us for a while.

“42,” Henry started, then stopped. I sat up a little to look at his expression and found it was an awkward one. He gave a few false starts before sighing, his expression turning distant. I recognized the look, and a little later, a text from him arrived.

[42,

I apologize, but since you are worried, I feel compelled to tell you things I wouldn’t usually. It’s true we must listen, but we are not denied our own thoughts on the subject. Few would bother to bring it up to you, but there are times they dislike their orders.

Also, not every skeleton likes you. Please do not take that to heart. They are malcontent by nature. Aaron is a significant example, and Katrina is a close second.]

I looked at the message and laughed despite how much it hurt. It wasn’t long-lived, and by the end, I was leaning against Henry again. I rested my pained head on his shoulder.

Henry’s words didn’t put my fears completely to rest, but they were comforting. That I was comforted by being disliked made me bite my lip to keep another round of laughter in.

“I don’t think I’ve had much to do with Katrina. I wonder why she doesn’t like me,” I asked. I’d need to talk to her about it, but that didn’t mean there would be an easy solution. If there was one at all. Sometimes you just didn’t like someone. I could live with that.

“Uh… H-her re-reason is-is...” Henry stumbled over his words and stopped.

“She likes you, doesn’t she?” I asked, and the way he blushed told me I was right. She’d given him a piece of her glassware and had a not so mysterious dislike for the person he spent a lot of time with. It wasn’t rocket surgery to come up with a reason why.

“Sh-she… yes,” Henry said finally. I recalled the night of the ball. He’d been looking at the champagne flute she’d given him, but I couldn’t read much in his expression at the time.

“Do you like her?” I asked. There was no sense in trying to guess or pry the answer loose in a roundabout way. I wasn’t savvy enough for that.

“No,” Henry replied to my surprise. Even if he didn’t return her feelings, I hadn’t expected him to be so direct.

“Does she know that?” I asked.

“The-the cham-champaign f-flute was a proposal of-of s-sorts. S-sending it-it back was-was a refusal… B-but I-I a-also talked to-to her,” Henry said, adding the last part on quickly.

“Oh, then she’s gonna hate me,” I said, giving a humorless laugh at the end.

“Why?” Henry asked, astonished by the idea.

“Well…” I started only to fall silent as I realized what I was on the verge of saying. Looking into Henry’s eyes, I found myself unable to continue.

I like you.

The words were simple, but the meaning wasn’t. I’d gotten swept up in the moment and had almost said them carelessly. If I was going to say them, it wouldn’t be while Henry was metaphorically holding my hair back.

“Any w-word fr-from S-Steve or-or Agony?” Henry asked. I shook my head, but a few moments later, I had a message. A message with an attachment symbol.

“But Mina just came through,” I said happily.