Season 1, Episode 4 - The Microwave XXXV - "The Tsundere"

That same Sunday night, a few hours after the raid.

With the whole district in disarray and under curfew, and with school cancelled tomorrow because of it, that could only mean one thing.

“Sleepover!” Audrey proclaimed as Isaac and Reed entered her apartment, holding big boxes of VHS tapes in their hands.

Esther sat next to Audrey on her sister’s couch. Esther missed her own bed, and she really planned to be back in her own building and room by now, but...

Life seems to give you unexpected opportunities sometimes, she supposed. You can’t always plan for them. And maybe you shouldn’t.

Much louder than Esther’s quiet thoughts were Isaac and Reed, arguing as usual as they lugged the boxes over toward Audrey’s television.

“I can’t believe you made me carry all these tapes this entire way,” Reed complained.

“Oh yeah, it was a tough walk, the five seconds from my room to here,” Isaac muttered. “And I carried half of the tapes anyway.”

“Half?” Reed questioned. “Isaac, how are we in the same algebra class? There are seventeen tapes, you carried eight, and I carried nine. Nine whole tapes. I’m not a rocket scientist, but nine, that’s greater than eight, right Esther?”

Esther meekly nodded, unsure of who’s side to take, or if she was supposed to take any side at all.

Isaac groaned.

“You’re something else, Reed. Really something else.”

“Well, that’s why you keep me around, right?"

The two found a clear space and set their boxes down. “By the way, to answer the question from earlier,” Reed began. “If the right conditions were met, then sure, I’d be a magical girl.”

“Right conditions?” Isaac asked.

Reed nodded. “To be a magical girl, you gotta sign a contract. And sign a contract? That’s something professionals and athletes and professional athletes do. If you’re gonna sign a contract, you gotta approach it the right way.”

She held a finger up. “Before you become a magical girl, you gotta get a lawyer.”

“...a lawyer?”

Reed took one of the VHS tapes in her hands and examined it. “You bet. Some wackass random animal mascot comes up to me one day and says I can be a magical girl if I sign his contract, I’m sure as hell not looking through it myself. You need a lawyer to do that. That way, you’re not tricked. I’ve seen too many magical girls get tricked over the years, Isaac.”

“...I’m sure you have.”

Reed rummaged around the box, ignoring Isaac’s protests to be careful. “And, assuming my lawyer says their terms are alright, that’s when I present my counter-terms. And if they accept them, then I would sign the contract.”

Isaac tensed as Reed slid a finger around one of the reels on the back of a tape. “What are your counter-terms?”

“Well, you see, this whole magical business thing seems like a job, right?” Reed explained. “I mean, I guess it’s awfully convenient that these monsters seem like they only attack after school, but that just means you have to always be available after school. And on weekends, too. That’s not something I want. I can’t work under conditions like that. So my first condition would be having weekends completely off. Let someone else in the magical girl organization handle issues on Saturday nights. I also only want to do a four day workweek. Working on Fridays is for squares, Isaac.”

Reed counted on her fingers as she listed her demands. “So, if it’s gonna be a job, I want a salary. I don’t consider the magical girl powers a salary, that’s just a signing bonus. I want sick time, vacation time, a company car that is officially referred to as the Reedmobile. I want a Reed-Signal, too. I’m gonna be fighting a lot, so I want health insurance. Dental, too, while we’re at it. And good worker’s comp. Since the magical organization might be shady, I want one of them anonymous whistleblower hotline things those companies in Germany have. Let’s see, let’s see...I want the occasional company lunch, a vacation once a year to Martha’s Vineyard, full rights to any sort of Reed animated character - including the ability to be my own voice actress, the right to play myself in any Reed live-action movies, and a tsundere.”

“...a tsundere?”

Reed nodded in complete sincerity. “I want one in my magical girl squad. They amuse me.”

Isaac crossed his arms and looked Reed over. “I go to school with one full-time. The appeal sort of wears off after a while.”

Reed pointed at herself in faux outrage. “Me? A tsundere? You couldn’t be farther from the truth, Isaac. Tsunderes are girls who hide their feelings by getting angry, shouting things like ‘Protagonist-kun no baka!’ and then stealing his lunch money. Have I ever stole anyone’s lunch money?”

Isaac grunted. “You strong-armed me for a quarter at the vending machine yesterday.”

Reed smirked. “Aw, Isaac, I didn’t strong-arm nobody. I just happened to make great use of your lack of spine.”

Steam came out of Isaac’s ears. “Alright, you know what? I know what kind of tsundere you are. You’re not the violent kind. You’re the kind that acts all sour on the outside to hide being flustered when her real feelings come up. You don’t hit people with your hands, instead you hit them with your words. You’re more attached to us than you’re willing to admit.”

That made Reed's real feelings come up, so she spoke in a sour tone. “Christ, take me out to dinner first before analyzing my character like that.”

Isaac hid his feelings by getting angry and shouting. “Reed, you idiot! Give me back my quarter!”

While the two went at it, Audrey raised a hand. “Hey, you guys!”

Isaac and Reed looked at each other. He removed his hands from her shoulders while she removed hers from his ears. The two forgot that the Adzinoki sisters were sitting on the couch, watching the whole thing.

“Me and Esther were talking,” Audrey explained. “And based on that last conversation, we agreed that you two...are incredibly lame!”

Audrey let out that cheerful laugh of hers, while Esther had a confused look on her face.

“What are you guys even talking about?” Audrey asked, take a deep breath to collect herself. “I don’t know what a lot of words mean, but I know that I especially don’t know what a lot of those words mean.”

Reed grinned. “Oh, you will, Auds. You will.” She proudly pointed to the two boxes of VHS tapes. “You are in for a treat, Adzinokis. It’s currently eight o’clock right now. Assuming we stay up until four AM, that means we can watch...Esther, do the math for me, eight hours divided by episodes of twenty-four minutes.”

“That would be twenty.” Esther felt a little taken aback by the number of tapes. “But, um...what are we watching?”

“Only the second greatest Japanimation series ever produced,” Isaac clarified.

Reed nodded in confirmation. “The greatest Japanimation of the 2040s, Watashi no imōto to watashi wa, gendai no seishin kari to shite umarekawaru koto wa dekinakattadeshou!”

The Adzinokis looked at each other.

“That Chinese sounded flawless,” Audrey said.

“...that’s Japanese, Sis...”

“Oh...what does it mean in American?”

“My Little Sister and I Couldn’t Have Possibly Been Reincarnated as Modern-Day Spirit Hunters,” Isaac enthusiastically translated.

The Adzinokis glanced at each other.

“It’s about these siblings who die and are given a second chance at life as monster hunters,” Reed explained. “You know, they’re like spirit detectives, soul eaters, demon slayers. All in modern Japan, but modern as in pre-Great Asian War Japan. That twilight of an era feeling is all in there. You can feel the soul of a nation as it stands on the brink of an all-or-nothing conflict."

"Unfortunately, Japan got nothing in the war, so they didn't even get to adapt the whole manga," Isaac added.

Esther supposed she would add that last bit as a footnote in the casualties section of her research notes on the Great Asian War.

“Well, that sounds cool!” Audrey exclaimed, whose knowledge of Asia was limited to the menus at the Chinese restaurants she ate at. “Can we watch it in English?”

Reed eyed her for a moment. “I’m gonna pretend you never asked that.”

The phone suddenly rang; Audrey leapt off the couch and grabbed the receiver off the wall. “Hi! Audrey Adzinoki residence! Oh, I see!”

She held the phone out. “It’s for you, Isaac!”

Reed and Esther glanced at Isaac; he shrugged and grabbed the phone.

“Hello? Oh, hey, Dan...yeah, I’m not home, smart thinking on your part, calling Audrey’s...no, it’s not like that, you freak...the Wampanoag game? Nah, they’re playing Vermont College. It’s gonna be a blowout...what? Tie game? A minute left? Thanks, Dan, gotta go!”

He put the receiver away. “Quick, someone put the Wampanoag college basketball game on!” Isaac exclaimed. “It’s tied!”

Reed held up the VHS tape. “What about Spirit Hunter?”

“It can wait two minutes.” Isaac gestured at Audrey, who gestured back at him, pretending to not understand.

“But I want to watch Spirit Hunter,” Reed complained, reaching to turn on the VHS player-

She exhaled slowly.

And relented.

“Alright, okay.”

Reed sat down in front of the television, holding the tape in her hands, wondering why she relented. She felt like she would’ve just turned the dial, without any thought at all, only a few days ago.

“Life comes at you fast,” she mumbled under her breath.

Isaac made enough hand gestures for Audrey to finally crack a grin and change the channel to the sports station.

Isaac sighed in relief and jabbed his finger at the screen; only a few seconds remained. “Alright, last possession,” he exclaimed. “As long as Wampanoag gives the ball to the point guard, we win, easy as that.”

On the grainy black and white screen, the four watched as both teams got into position for the final possession. The referee looked everyone over, then blew his whistle and handed the ball off to the tall Wampanoag player on the sideline.

“Let’s go!” Isaac cheered.

The player looked right, looked left, then passed the ball right. The point guard slipped past a screen, caught the ball, jumped and shot, the buzzer noise sounded, the ball approached the rim-

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO AIR A SPECIAL BROADCAST FROM THE PRESIDENTIAL ADMINISTRATION.

Isaac choked as the basketball game switched to a gray screen filled with static, the above words stretching across the television.

Audrey gently patted him on the back. “It’s alright, Isaac.” She grinned. “I don’t think it was going in anyway.”

Isaac sighed and slumped on the couch in defeat.

“I wonder what the broadcast is about,” Esther said.

The other three all looked at each other. They were interrupted, after all, by something hot off the presses, straight from the Presidential Administration itself.

Isaac nudged Reed awake.

The screen suddenly switched to a man sitting solemnly behind a desk. From what they could see of him, he looked rather thin and tall, with short black hair and a thin mustache. His eyes looked empty. The wall behind him featured three items: the pine tree flag of New England, the seal of the Presidential Administration that mixed the moose of President Pulaski’s former Aroostook Army Group with that of the New England eagle, and lastly, most ominous of all, the seal of the New England State Police, a simple arm raised, sword in hand.

“Good evening, people of New England,” Chief Emich Amien of the New England State Police greeted the entire country. Any special broadcast from the Presidential Administration would dominate all airwaves, whether it be television or radio.

Everyone in Audrey’s apartment swallowed nervously. Chief Amien himself didn’t look all that imposing, but all the arrests, all the imprisonments, the “logging” camps in Piscataquis, the midnight knock at the door, all of that spouted from the man currently displayed on their television screen.

Before today, Elizabeth Pond seemed safe from it all. But the State Police essentially broke in, robbed the place, killed multiple people, and very nearly captured the four themselves.

All in all, the four were just kids. Strong together, maybe, but Chief Amien...he and his system was power incarnate.

“For the past week, Chairman Stockham of West Narragansett Technical Academy refused my peaceful attempts to negotiate the surrender of known dissident Yasuhiro Beskov,” Amien explained, his voice neutral, his eyes narrowed. “Professor Beskov was wanted by the Presidential Administration on account on treasonous and seditious acts, in violation of our great Constitution, as drafted by our even greater President Pulaski.”

Audrey grasped Esther's hand with her own.

“Harboring a known criminal could be seen as treasonous itself, with the entire district and all its citizenry guilty by association of harboring him, but I am a man of mercy,” the man in charge of the logging camps proclaimed. “For his prior service in the War of Yorkist Aggression, I will allow Stockham to keep his post. The people of Elizabeth Pond may sleep a quiet peace tonight, for I am giving you the chance to repent your sins.”

Amien’s voice was full of a tranquil sort of fury. There was no slamming of his fists, no beatings of his chest, just cold words. “But I could not allow such a transgression against the Presidential Administration to go unpunished. All within the state, nothing outside the state. Chairman Stockham erected his walls, believing himself to be safe within them...but nothing is outside the grasp of the Presidential Administration and State Police.”

The kids looked at each other, not saying anything.

“So, I tore down his walls. I simply issued a command, and justice was delivered, all within the span of two hours. The State Police found Professor Beskov, who resisted our peaceful offers of surrender. This resulted in his demise. As for the rest of his district, whose citizens seem to hold the belief that they were independent, we found a society that should be named alongside Sodom and Gomorrah as symbols of decadence. While the common citizenry of Narragansett toils in service of the state, Elizabeth Pond enjoys luxuries unknown to the rest of New England, displaying their ill-gotten wealth opulently, forgetting the struggle that the rest of us, those outside the district, have had to endure. Chief among these items were illegal contraband, smuggled in from New York, used by the citizenry without a care for the blood spilled in the three years of warfare. We even found an imported Bren light machine gun from England, as if to mock the starvation caused by the English blockade.”

The four eyed the empty spot on the counter where Audrey’s New York Minute once resided.

“This also deserved punishment,” Amien continued. “So we delivered further justice. We smashed the symbols of their decadent Rddhi-capitalism, and we shall shortly redistribute those symbols to the deserving workers in the rest of the city.”

Amien’s eyes gazed at New England. “Let this be a lesson for all. The Presidential Administration has carefully managed our society and economic system ever since the National Awakening ten years ago. We cannot allow the twin evils of Rddhi-capitalism and centripetal-communism to breach our nation. Both diseases feed off of each other. Every decadent display gives strength to the communists, and every new member of the communist conspiracy only inspires the robber barons to push deeper in the pursuit of profit. And who suffers the most from this?”

He went quiet for a moment, letting New England soak in his words. “The silent majority of the New England citizenry. The farmers in our fields, the workers in their factories, the soldiers on the border, the petite middle class. They all simply earn their fair share and then righteously give up the excesses to serve New England. Both the Rddhi-capitalist cabal and the centripetal-communist conspiracy wish to steal that hard-earned wealth for their own purposes. This is something I will not allow."

“So let this be a lesson,” he repeated. “Despite the walls you may build, despite the mistaken feeling of security you may have...nobody, anywhere or at any time, is outside the watchful gaze of the State Police. We will not allow the Rddhi-capitalists nor the centripetal-communists to seize our nation and our wealth. That is my goal. Justice will be delivered to all who oppose our banner of a quiet peace under liberty. No evil may escape. Not the communists...”

Perhaps his last words were directed at Stockham himself.

“And not the Rddhis.”

Amien disappeared and the gray static returned, the New England anthem blaring triumphantly across the screens and radios of the entire nation.