I wouldn't say I hate my job.
But when you're sitting in a sterile, white office that smells like melted plastic and recycled air, still covered in dust and scorch marks, while your boss stares at you like you've personally sunk the company's quarterly profit margin, it's hard to stay optimistic.
Especially when she starts listing your "financial infractions."
Kanna Sakuragi, my supervisor at AetherCorp's FLARE Operations Division, scrolls through a holographic tablet with the slow, deliberate rhythm of someone reading an obituary.
"You caused structural damage to three buildings," she says without looking up.
"Two and a half," I correct, reclining in my chair.
Her tone doesn't change. "You also incinerated a delivery vehicle."
"That was the Aberrant's fault. It threw me into it."
Kanna's expression doesn't move, but her eyebrow twitches, just barely. "And you punched a city train off its rails."
That one makes me pause. Even I can't spin that one into something noble.
"Okay, in my defense," I say, rubbing my neck, "it was in the way. I was moving at subsonic speed. I had to pick between going through it or derailing it. I chose the ethical route."
Kanna lowers the tablet. "Ethical. How is derailing a train ethical?"
"No passengers. Just cargo. Some seafood got... redistributed."
She blinks. "Redistributed."
"Yes."
The silence stretches like elastic about to snap. I can practically hear the corporate budget hemorrhaging in her mind, numbers bleeding out in slow motion.
Finally, she breathes in through her nose. "Ryo, do you realize your last mission cost this department 12.4 million credits?"
"Good thing I don't handle the accounting," I say.
Her sigh could power a turbine. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "You're lucky you're still funded. HQ decided you need to 'improve inter-unit synergy.' So, congratulations."
She claps once. "You're getting a new partner."
I sit up. "No."
"Yes."
"I work better alone."
"You work loudly alone. There's a difference."
I open my mouth to argue again, but the door explodes open.
A blinding light floods the room, glittering particles raining down like the apocalypse decided to wear sequins.
"IN THE NAME OF LOVE AND JUSTICE, I HAVE ARRIVED!"
Oh no.
Standing in the doorway, posing like she's auditioning for an anime opening, is the reason caffeine pills exist.
"FEAR NOT, FOR STARLIGHT ANGEL SHALL PURIFY THE DARKNESS WITH FRIENDSHIP!"
I grip the arms of my chair. "No."
Kanna smirks, cruel satisfaction glinting in her eyes. "Meet your new partner. Amane Hoshikawa."
I stare at her. "I quit."
"Request denied."
Amane points dramatically toward me. Her eyes sparkle like she's found a long-lost soulmate. "So! It's you, my destined rival!"
"It isn't."
"Our souls are bound by fate to battle evil side by side!"
"It really isn't."
Kanna checks her watch. "You two are now officially a unit. Your next mission briefing is tomorrow. Dismissed."
"Wait—" I start, but she's already turned away. Discussion over.
Timeskip
The elevator ride down is the longest thirty seconds of my life.
Amane hums beside me, her hair shimmering with residual FLARE energy, leaving a trail of glitter that'll probably violate three sanitation codes. I'm pretty sure she's one strong sneeze away from committing a war crime under AetherCorp's "Energy Containment Act."
"So!" she chirps. "What should our team name be? The Starlight Express? The Justice Comet? The Friendship—"
"Silence," I mutter. "And deactivate the glow before someone files a complaint."
"But sparkles boost morale!"
"My morale's dead."
The elevator dings. I step out like a man leaving purgatory, and she skips after me. AetherCorp employees barely look up; they've seen worse. One guy sips coffee as Amane strikes a pose next to the vending machines, wings of light spreading behind her.
"Behold, citizens!" she announces. "Your protectors stand united!"
I sidestep her. "We're not protectors. We're underpaid janitors for supernatural messes."
She gasps, scandalized. "Then we must cleanse the world with hope!"
"Cleanse this," I mutter, brushing glitter off my sleeve.
Outside, the city hums with mechanical rhythm. Drones buzz between skyscrapers, scanning the streets for FLARE leaks. Neon billboards flash advertisements for "AetherEnergy — Powering the Future, One Soul at a Time."
The irony doesn't escape me. AetherCorp funds FLARE Users like me, but only to regulate and tax our powers. The stronger your FLARE, the higher your "usage fee." It's like being fined for existing.
Amane skips along the cracked sidewalk beside me like we're on a field trip. "Your fighting style was incredible! I heard they call you Express Train?"
I grunt. "Because I don't stop once I start moving."
"How poetic!"
"How taxable."
She tilts her head. "You're very cynical for someone supported by AetherCorp."
"Supported?" I bark a laugh. "I'm in debt to them. They just pay me enough to keep me from quitting."
Her smile softens. "Then I'll bring light to your darkness!"
I stop walking. "Don't."
She beams. "Too late."
My wristwatch blinks crimson.
> ABERRANT DETECTED — 200 meters north.
Risk Level: C.
Authorized Response Unit: Ryo Takamine, Amane Hoshikawa.
Amane's cheerful voice turns sharp. "Direction?"
"North," I say, already revving my FLARE gauntlet. "Let's make it quick. I've got rent."
We cut through an alley as the ground trembles underfoot. The air warps with heat. The Aberrant emerges from the pavement: a six-legged monstrosity of molten asphalt and twisted rebar, its body glowing like a furnace.
Civilians scatter, screaming. Drones mark off the area, broadcasting the usual corporate warning: "Please remain calm. Your panic increases FLARE contamination risk."
Amane lifts her staff, light rippling along its edge. "Ryo!"
"Already on it."
My gauntlet hums to life. Electric-blue rail lines crawl across my arm, connecting into the metallic gauntlet on my right hand. The familiar whistle builds in my bones.
Rule 1 of Express Train: Once you move, don't stop.
I launch forward.
The Aberrant swings one massive claw. I slip under it, the gauntlet charging. Asphalt cracks beneath my boots as Amane's blast of pink energy slams into the creature's flank.
"Your form lacks elegance!" she shouts.
"My paycheck lacks zeroes!" I shout back.
The Aberrant's chest pulses: a FLARE core, unstable and glowing like a dying star. Perfect target.
Rule 2 of Express Train: The longer the sprint, the bigger the boom.
The gauntlet peaks. I hit critical velocity.
Impact.
The explosion rattles the entire block. The Aberrant crumples inward, then collapses in a splash of liquified tar. Steam rises. Car alarms wail.
I skid to a stop, smoke curling off my jacket. My right arm feels like it's been dislocated in four places. Again.
Amane floats down beside me, glowing like a walking victory screen. "A flawless success! Our bond is unstoppable!"
"Our bond is a tax write-off."
She twirls her staff, entirely unfazed. "AetherCorp will be pleased!"
AetherCorp drones descend, scanning the wreckage. Holographic reports flicker in front of us:
> Casualties: 0
Property Damage: ¥3,280,000
Mission Fee Deduction: 85%
FLARE Tax Applied: ¥42,000
I stare at the numbers. "Figures."
Amane peers over my shoulder. "Oh! We qualify for a synergy bonus!"
"We qualify for a lobotomy."
The drones beep approvingly anyway before flying off to file their paperwork. I rub my shoulder, trying to pop something back into place.
"Your technique has potential," Amane says. "But it lacks sparkle."
"My technique lacks health insurance."
She laughs. "You're funny, Ryo."
"I'm tragic."
Fifteen minutes later, we're sitting on a curb beside the smoking crater, waiting for cleanup crews. AetherCorp policy requires "post-combat evaluation" in case an Aberrant left emotional residue or trauma. I mostly use the time to breathe.
"So," she starts, twirling her staff idly, "how long have you been with AetherCorp?"
"Since I could afford the implant."
She blinks. "You mean your FLARE link?"
"Yeah. Express Train's built around my nervous system. AetherCorp modified it to convert momentum into kinetic blasts. Sounds fancy until you realize I pay interest every time I use it."
"That's awful."
"Welcome to capitalism. Though, at least I can kind of store the potential energy without frying a nerve."
She frowns, tapping her chin. "I don't like thinking of justice as taxable."
"Then don't think about it."
We sit in silence for a while, watching drones suck molten tar off the street. AetherCorp logos shimmer on their sides. Every cleanup is just another data harvest. Every fight, another report.
Amane suddenly perks up. "Hey, I forgot to ask, do you like parfaits?"
"What?"
She grins. "There's a café two blocks from here! Their parfaits are divine! I heard sugar helps FLARE regeneration!"
"I'm not regenerating anything but regret."
"Then I'll pay!" she insists, grabbing my wrist. "Come on!"
"Wait—"
Too late. I'm dragged off toward a pastel café that looks allergic to my entire personality.
Timeskip
The café's name is Sugar Nebula. Everything inside sparkles. The walls are pink. The air smells like diabetes. A digital TV above the counter blares a news segment:
> "In other headlines, NeuroSync researchers claim Aberrants are evolving. AetherCorp has yet to issue a statement."
Amane orders two parfaits shaped like galaxies. I order black coffee, because dignity still matters. She sits across from me, chin in her hands.
"So! What do you do when you're not fighting?" she asks.
"Sleep. Occasionally breathe."
"That's so... sad."
"It's cost-efficient."
She pokes her parfait with a spoon. "You're strange, Ryo Takamine."
"Compliment taken."
"Do you ever smile?"
"I try not to."
She laughs softly. "Then I'll make it my mission to change that."
I look at her, half tempted to respond, half too tired to bother. "Good luck. HR couldn't."
An hour later, I finally escape. She insists on walking with me back to my bike.
"Next mission, we should coordinate attacks!" she says. "Maybe you could run along my light trails, and we combine our—"
"I'm calling in sick."
She ignores me entirely. "Also, Kanna said we have a partner bonding seminar tomorrow morning! Isn't that exciting?"
I stop dead. "What."
She pulls up her phone, showing the schedule. "'Mandatory Partner Synergy Workshop.' Starts at eight. Bring glitter."
I stare at the sky, praying for divine intervention. None comes.
Amane smiles. "See you tomorrow, partner!"
She waves as she skips off, leaving a faint trail of sparkles in her wake.
I stand there for a long time, trying to decide whether to throw myself into traffic or the nearest FLARE containment pit.
The watch on my wrist hums, flickering faintly with residual power. The faint whistle of Express Train still echoes somewhere in my bones.
Another day. Another debt.