My Dinner With Julia

[January 20th]

It has been some time since Julia / Mint Condition was actively in this narrative since her first appearance in Arc 5.5, and much more was left unhinted at of her in that summer. To renew your memory: Julia Bates was an astonishingly ugly redhead, a fourth-year now, with a Revenant named Manufacture: two metal rods that could spark electricity and control magnetism. She had also recently quit smoking.

She was often anecdotalized as an *artsy type* by those who saw no difference between her and the other bad lesbian poets she was usually forced to deal with in her course at Urasaria. Think the poetry of her dead protege, Markus, the moral scold gay man who felt the purpose of art was to preach, compared to Julia who felt it was communication in its highest form; she felt that at a certain level of difference in artistic quality, so too did its creation become a different activity.

That should give adequate background on Julia and what a miserably snobbish cretin she is. Onward!

Serena & Naomi & Kate had waited outside of the airport gate for Julia & Yuruko, the latter of whom Serena ran up to and kissed when she saw her. Julia looked over at them, and was reminded of the time she had met a girlfriend in-person for the first time, yet she-- and then was cut off by Kate introducing herself and taking her Winchester back from Yuruko.

The five went around with their introductions of both names & Revenants, and Kate suggested Naomi & Julia and Serena & Yuruko pair up, leaving herself as the loner -- a position she was accustomed to, and one suited for Split's fleeing capabilities. She felt it would be best to attempt non-lethal capture of a host, and to mostly mill around until one attacked them (as they usually did).

As it was near evening, so Serena & Yuruko decided to find somewhere to eat. Yuruko was usually busy with her classwork to become a Revenant reearcher, but the start of this semester had not been too difficult, though she still studied as she sat with her girlfriend Serena.

Urasaria's Phantasmology program mimics doctorates at traditional universities in its difficulty; the program has been deliberately designed to be filled with weed-out classes, and accelerates through a combined degree of microbiology & chemistry mixed with Revenant-specific knowledge. Exams are often revised the day before with new discoveries, and Phantasmology students are expected to keep themselves updated on how the field develops. The dropout rate was once 50%, until a rogue Revenant researcher you will later learn of, afterwards which the program was designed to be even more difficulty & loyalty-testing: its dropout rate is currently 90%, and Yuruko was already the sole student left of her class.

When their food came, Yuruko set her notes aside and talked with Serena about their usual topics; recent videogame releases, gacha game updates, and anime. Serena felt that she should mention to Yuruko that she had made sure Kate did not call Inky, who the couple knew as Evan. He was Yuruko's first mentor and was mostly an otaku of the subhuman variety Matoi mistakenly believed Yuruko & Serena to be; the type who in Japan ejaculate on their palms and shake women's hands. He would often explain things to Yuruko and place his hand on her thigh, or try to get her to move in with him & the likes.

"Aimee acted so weird about that whole thing, though." said Yuruko. "You know, I reported him three weeks in. I'm expecting to just get a new mentor, that's it, but she starts going on about how it's not my fault, that if I need help she's there for me, I shouldn't feel ashamed of what happened to me and shit."

"Um, he was sexually harassing you. Like, didn't he used to rub his crotch against you?"

"Yeah, if he needed to pass by me. He was creep, but sexual harassment? I dunno, that sounds melodramatic. It's not any worse than the shit my mom did to me. Plus, who's Aimee to be giving me this advice? I know she's Mia's girlfriend, but she just has that type of personality where she wants to solve other people's problems 'cause she can't solve her own. At least back then, anyway." said Yuruko. "Then she starts shittalking men in front of me. What's with lesbians doing that? Some dude's a dick to them, and instead of just writing it off as one guy, they make up a whole theory about how men suck, instead of moving on."

Serena shrugged, and resumed her meal. "I just hope Naomi'll be okay with Julia. Kate said she's fine, but..."

"Yeah, I've never seen her around campus before, but that Julia chick kinda has that face that looks like it caught on fire and was put out by an axe."

Serena did not laugh.

Yuruko grinned.

"C'mon."

"N-No."

Yuruko placed her face against Serena's.

"C'mon."

"N-N-No."

"Hey, Serena. Did you know her foster parents put her up for adoption?"

Serena said nothing.

"They moved a lot, too, but she always found them again. When she was born, the doctor slapped her mother. Parents tell their kids to go out for Halloween dressed up like her. She opens the door and kids give her candy."

Serena was stoic, then started to laugh; a cymbal crashed, and in the next instant -

- the two were blasted against the wall; grunting & wincing, Blackburn's fog & tentacle formed as Yuruko's gloves swept back -

- and turned the wall to water; a second shockwave blasted them out to the sidewalk, two dripping as they stood again, seeing their foe standing on one table inside, cymbals in-hand fifty feet away. A second crash tore every civilian to notes of gore, two wincing as they swept against the remaining wall, and in the next instant -

- a dozen spikes of concrete burst out of the wall -

- and the two swept away just in time for the sharp ends to only slash their skin, more cymbal crashes from inside, spikes erupting out and being carved towards them -

" - Medicinal!" shouted Yuruko, gloves catching every last -

- and turning them in to water, Serena whispering as fog refilled their wounds. With no time to waste, Yuruko held on to Serena, swift sweep of tentacle bring them up to the wall; up they climbed, more spikes erupting below & cymbals crashing as they came to the roof. Taking her cup out, Serena planted it face-down at the center, and as Yuruko dipped a finger inside -

- the acid within corroded a clear hole through the roof, more liquid rushing down&inside -

- but the two sighed as they saw their foe sweep aside below, cup disintegrating & falling down, another cymbal crash blasting it away -

" - parry this, you fucking casual!" shouted Yuruko, Serena laughing as a revolver formed in her glove -

- and the hollow point of six completely useless bullets entered the man's chest, grunting as he staggered back and out of sight. Yuruko reformed a new cup as they stood again, handing it to Serena -

- and the two swept with the speed of light back as another spike jut out of the building; another cymbal crashed, and in the next instant -

- the shockwave blasted through the roof from below; sudden footing lost and starting to crumble, the two started to fall -

- and Serena didn't refill the roof as they fell down in to the restaurant again, forty feet separating them and their foe still, shotgun forming in Yuruko's hands as the two stood again -

" - parry this, you f-"

- the two swept right again to dodge another spike, and as Yuruko fired -

- the fucking casual parried, another cymbal crash blasting the slugs back in to the two -

" - Blackburn!" shouted Serena, fog filling her jacket & Yuruko's coat -

- and the two turned their backs in to the reflected projectiles, more cymbals crashing as they started their rush left & away, left wall of the restaurant ahead.

" - got an idea." whispered Serena as they ran, Yuruko laughing as she relayed it -

" - seriously?"

" - I mean, it worked in the show!" said Serena, relevantly; Yuruko laughed as she threw a mini-grenade down, streams of fog flying underneath her boots, two grinning as they heard the man in pursuit behind, and as they came up to the wall -

- streams of fog filled it with acid; in to the hole swept the women, new & empty restaurant within as they rushed inside, and as they came to the opposite wall -

- the two stifled their laughs as they turned, foe running in oblivious pursuit & on their line, and as he came up to the mini-grenade -

- a single crash blasted it away - " - you thought a pitiful trick like that would -"

" - you should've spent more time on the streets!" shouted Yuruko, relevantly -

" - take a look at that grenade!" cackled Serena, relevantly -

- and the man's blood turned to ice as the thrown grenade pulled out the fuse of the other hundred planted underneath the floor -

- and the enormous explosion of sleeping gas claimed the entire room, swift sweep of Medicinal & Blackburn clearing the vapors from their nostrils, laughing at the unconscious man ahead as the pink mist cleared -

" - secret Kunst technique!" shouted Serena, and Yuruko laughed beside -

" - uh, the Joestar technique was running away -"

" - yeah, but it's different -"

" - sure." laughed Yuruko. "Got the bitch."

"Got the bitch."

"Let's call Kate before anyone comes."

Yuruko called Kate, and the hairwoman towed the unconscious body for Revenant removal & the rest of the day guarding Dr. Fujishita.

While they had ate & fought, Julia had asked Naomi out to dinner; that she did not specify platonically worried Naomi. Julia was presumably a lesbian, but Naomi straight, and admittedly, Julia had the appearance of a gremlin. There was no part of her that could be called attractive: she moved like a millipede. Naomi naturally associated such grotesqueness with sexual predation or stalkerdom.

That she thought this all in two seconds after Julia asked surprised her, and made her feel like her thoughts were not her own; rather that they were another's that had intruded into her brain, but presented themselves as her own conscious choice. Humans tend to overreact to things at first, and perhaps this accounts for some of it.

"So, have you been here before?" said Julia. "Nevermind, t-that's a stupid question, obviously you haven't."

"No, I haven't. ... I guess I could have been here on a contract, though. A different contract."

"Have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oh."

They sat with silence. Naomi read over her menu. "It looks nice, at least."

Their waitress came over and asked what they wanted for drinks, and if they were starting with anything. Both answered water and said they needed time with the menu. Still they sat.

"...so, where are you from?" said Naomi.

"Louisiana. What about you?"

"I... don't really know where I'm from. I'm an amnesiac. See, in August, I woke up in Urasaria's infirmary with no memory before thag. Serena had found me dumped outside, unconscious, and she took me in and healed me. We found out somebody had been planting bombs inside me, breaking my bones, maybe to activate my Revenant, but even afterwards, I still have amnesia."

Julia stared at her.

"Uh, but I decided it would be best to just be a student. Since I had a Revenant and everything, already."

"You're really baring your whole, uh, life story here, a-aren't you? I mean, I ask you w-where you're from, and you've got all these deeply intimate personal details for me."

Naomi felt Julia was trying to offend her, but subtly enough that she could embarrass herself if she called her on it: so she did not.

"...Serena's your mentor, right?"

"Yes, she wears her leather jacket everywhere."

"Your waters, Miss Students. Do you need more time to look over the menu?"

"No, I'll have the cajun pasta."

"Cajun pasta sounds good."

"Alrighty, I'll have your orders out soon."

Julia watched her walk away. "'Miss Students', really? What an o-odd way to say it. You know, they act like that b-because they're so used to male students complaining nobody respects or coddles them. They're like Marines who demand you thank them for their service."

"Well, we do risk our lives, don't we? It's one of the nicer things I've gotten called as a student."

"But if you look at the bottom 20% of students, those students hardly contribute at all. You know, this is just not a situation akin to garbagemen, where if they all went on strike the streets would flood with litter in a week. To say n-nothing of how respect needs to be earned, not granted, a-as with anything that has meaning or import. Otherwise, it's d-devalued."

"Alright, but I was just saying I would rather be thanked than some of the things I've had said or thrown at me. Especially in a restaurant."

"Well, I'm not saying I-I haven't used the Urasaria discount many times myself. I say, before I take a sip of water t-that I'm sure someone spit in. ... I always get nervous on one of these." Julia looked away. "You know, there's a specific combination of people here that'll never be repeated in one place again. They all have their own reasons for why they ended up here. Do you, u-uh, y'know, ever think about that? Things like it?"

"I do, actually. You know, I was thinking lately... I know you'll probably think this is silly. But there seems to be a lot of women at Urasaria who, maybe they, uh, aren't any type of religious, but they have spirituality, or they believe in fate, or something like that."

"The astrologers."

"Yeah, exactly. But doesn't it seem silly to you? I mean, is it fate that this exact combination of people is here, at this specific time, like you said? Why would things need to be that detailed?"

"Well, do you think fate requires a designer?"

"Doesn't it? I'm not saying I believe in fate, just to be clear."

"The absence of free will, which i-is what fate is, doesn't require it to be pre-designed. Let's say that I, through some... mystical Revenant, could manifest myself inside you. I have your exact brain chemistry. Your life experience, your amnesia. Even your digestion. If-If I was given the same stimulus as you, could I make a decision you would not make?"

"But I can still make my own choices. ... No, I don't think you could make a decision that I wouldn't make, but maybe you would choose a different one."

"Could I? Because that would require you not to be strictly biological, and s-subject to those impulses. And, at that point, we're back to spirituality. The idea of some essence that *you* are, separate from your physical body, w-which under our scenario, would just be a shell we temporarily occupy."

"...well, then you're saying the reason everyone is here is because there couldn't not be everyone here. Because of their biology."

"That's the logical conclusion, yes. But then, fate wouldn't require a designer, i-it only would require biology. It goes from something that would need to be infinitely complex, to something very streamlined."

"But at that point, how could we have any responsibility for ourselves? Any idea of being an individual or a person? You said earlier that you don't think some students deserve respect, which I'm not sure I agree with, but... it just seems dehumanizing, the idea that people are nothing but biology or fate."

"But think through it, and y-you can certainly see that, if I ask you think of a book, you have no choice over which book comes into your mind. Think longer, and t-there's more books, yes, but they all present themselves as your choice. There's no pre-thinking a thought."

"Maybe, but I'm sure you understand why that's terrifying. It would mean we're essentially bits of wind with no control over ourselves. How could anyone judge anyone?"

"Well, the theme in a lot of my artistic w-work is cosmic indifference. Human judgment, or responsibility, or ideals, they're a-attempts to make sensical something very much without structure. I don't entirely a-agree with what I'm putting forth, here, or live by it. It seems to me someone c-can make different choices, limited as they might be, and even affect their own brain chemistry. The movement of particles, genetic mutations, electrical impulses -- none of those are e-entirely deterministic."

"So you agree that people can't be strictly explained by their biology."

"Yes, and so we've arrived back at spirituality or quantum physics."

"I would prefer the latter. I think it's all too silly. But it just seems like fate existing, whether spiritual or biological, would be..."

"Alienating?"

"Yes, alienating. It would be incredibly alienating. Not only about what I said earlier, but in how much of our life -- all of our life -- would be pushed into motion by forces we can't control. Which is why it honestly frightens me, a bit. I don't know. ... But I do feel a bit alienated from my class."

"Well, then let's talk about that. I-I don't have much empathy for people, either. I see so many people who cause their own issues, whether in how they deal with life, in certain w-ways, or how they limit themselves. Then when suffering the consequences of their own actions, they swear it couldn't be any other way. They, you-you know, they rationalize and deny, or they couldn't go on living.

Just the other month, someone walks into me on campus. Literally, she walks into me. She had just left another student's house and was on her phone, texting. She had come up with something in the fifteen seconds she had left the house and decided it c-couldn't wait until she was back home. And texting, of all things. Now, I-I am not saying text cannot affect people strongly, obviously, but compared to a voice, it's a v-very alienating form of communication. Some people prefer that ease and loneliness."

"I've seen that recently. Serena bought me a phone, which I do appreciate -- I can call her when I need to -- but I always see her texting her girlfriend in that same way. They'll sit next to each other, but be typing to the other. I don't understand it."

"Paradoxically, the internet has provided much easier communication and far greater loneliness. I don't use social media. I despise it. It a-angers me, actually. The internet provides many useful things, especially to an art-artist, and so few people avail themselves of it. I-I have gone on dates with women who are essentially cabbages. They use YouTube to watch shallow television, and the sum of all hi-historical literature to pirate novels for children."

"I don't know, I don't think that's such an awful thing. I know it's a little ironic to say it, given we're students, but... some people have much more stressful lives than us, and they don't have energy for much else. I can't say I haven't just sat on my phone for an entire day."

"Well, t-that's a better answer than when I'm called an elitist." Julia sipped. "And it seems to me the internet has started to make physical bodies more superfluous. People throughout time have been impressed by physical feats and physiques, a-and in some way they still are, in a way I'm certainly bitter about, I might add. Now they want knowledge. That's certainly good, but too often it's a desire for *more*, whatever it. There's the c-cliche that wisdom is not knowledge, but the application of knowledge, and one t-that is true nonetheless. Especially in the arts, I have dealt with so many social wannabees who want to appear smart to others rather than be intelligent. Really, I see more terrible art than ever before, e-even when there has been no better time to access all great art of the past. And most of it is from this unusual need to ascribe d-depth to things that, being as shallow as they are, can never be more than their personal opinion. Their personal attachment to a work s-supercedes all objective evaluation in it."

"But you don't think that's just nostalgia? I've heard people say they're born in the wrong generation before, about music or movies. I've even heard Yuruko apply it to anime and videogames. I usually believe all bad things in our past get leveled, in some way, and... if we do remember things, we usually romanticize them."

"Well, memory is certainly never wholly objective, which is a v-very useful thing. But no, there has never been a time where bad art has been so widely published, rewarded, lauded, the good more difficult to find. There's an obsession with this... t-this spirit of democracy, and the 'democratic soul of art', where not only does everyone have a right to their opinion but for it to be recognized. Of course, allowing every work to be published is not really democratic, and *that* is a distinction most c-critics haven't yet realized. Matters aren't so simple.

Really, I-I read contemporary novels and they have so little realism, wordplay, t-they have no love of craft or humor. Their characters are zombie-like and shamble from poorly written jokes to the next trite cliche. There is no s-sincerity, engagement with depth, because it would mean putting their cock on the c-chopping block. It wasn't very long ago even a factory worker could easily understand philosophy or literature, w-which was usually very enjoyable. Now they write it for people with degrees to analyze. What seems to have happened is that people above us have decided to give us the slop they believe we secretly craved. But, I still demand a better caliber of art. It portrays reality so I-I might see it better, and it's the only method humans have of time travel. Shouldn't everyone demand so?"

"...well, maybe, I-I don't know." Naomi looked away. "But I do feel a little familiar with that. I'm not sure where I went to middleschool or highschool, but there's times I've mentioned something to Serena or Yuruko, and they didn't know what it was until I explained it to them. So, I think, maybe it was more upscale, even more than their families, who still live nicely. But it just seems to distance me more from other people."

"'There is a tenuous thread of protoplasm, stretching backwards into time, that forever links you to a beach whose sands have long since hardened.' ... It's a quote from Loren Eisely's essays."

"...and I love Serena and Yuruko. They've always treated me well, but I can't go to them for deeper things. God, I once took Serena to an art gallery with me, but she seemed so disinterested in it all. I felt so embarrassed. And even moreso because I was, admittedly, hoping I could find someone a bit more intelligent there -- a man."

"I would suggest against that. You know, you get with some of these male artists a-and their idea of collaborating on a project with you i-is trying to produce your first child."

Naomi shuddered.

"But I'm noticing you seem almost angry over it."

"A little bit, I guess."

"But why? Serena -- that's her name? -- is happy, or so she seems."

"Right, but can't her life be fuller than that? I've been worried that when I'm older I'll find something I should have been filling my life with, but she doesn't seem to have that same urgency."

"Well, her life could be fuller, but I've tried n-not to be angry over how others live, unless it affects my own. She's happy, she has that cute girlfriend of her's, a job. People say her mentor acts like a second mother to her. I wouldn't know, I-I've got a thing against tall women, I'm afraid of them. An examined life is not always what you want. For all of my proclaimed smarts, I have zero romantic prospects, a dead protege, zero publishing deals. G-God, I'm like a Steve McQueen protagonist. 'I have done all manner of dishonorable things to survive, and for all of them I have ended up here, no better than if I had stood up for myself.'"

"But there is something... I mean, you seem self-aware as to why. At least then that means your obstacles are self-created. There's something good, righteous to that."

"Or stupid. How many righteous people are happy?"

"Well, but life isn't always about happiness, is it?"

Julia smiled. It seemed an alien thing for her. "Oh god, I just realized you said you were looking for a guy. What are you doing? Are you lonely? They have a pill for that."

"I'm not a lesbian, I'm... I'm straight."

"A straight host."

"Yes."

"How did you get stuck with that?"

Julia laughed and Naomi did not.

"I'm sorry, I don't really find that funny. I... let that slip like around some other students in my first few months, and I get - y'know, bullied and harassed and insulted by pretty much every lesbian in my class."

"...well, I didn't hear about that."

"Yeah. But I'm glad you know, at least, so I'll know now if you have a problem with it."

"To be honest, I-I have deeper things to care about them who you bed with. I feel bad for you being harassed, though, that isn't right."

"Well, it actually stopped, recently, and I didn't even know why until..."

Over the winter break, I stayed with my mentor and her girlfriend at Serena's mother's. Serena's mother, she really is this image of giving. Partially because she's fat, and her daughter also would be if not for all the running we do together. But, once we were on our way back to Urasaria, I asked if I could do my own grocery shopping, since Serena and Yuruko have a very... weird diet. They always buy these different flavors of potato chips and ramen, and they're all so inedible.

I stepped through the gate and where the street is, and I guess I sensed something, because I summoned Avalanche's arm carrying my bag and some girl tried to shove my arm away. Instead, she smashed her own fingers on my stone. She had two friends with her, and one of them told me: "Hey, watch where you're going, Naomi."

I usually try to shake it off, but they cut me off, so I asked: "What do you want?"

"Hey, I just asked you to look where you're going. What's in the bags, huh? Something for that busted face of your's?"

Another told me: "Haha, yeah. Your foundation doesn't match, either, by the way. All you do is beg for attention from men, and that's still the best you can do? You try so hard to look good and you still end up like that?"

Whenever I tried to walk, they kept cutting me off.

"Where are you going? We weren't done talking."

"Yeah, that..." She said something I won't repeat about my mentor, but she said she could wait. "God, I can't wait until President Matoi expels you and that fucking freak-"

And it was then I heard someone say: "Hey, what the fuck's amatter with you?"

A female student walked in between me and the lesbians, and she told them to lay off of me.

"Oh, god, now you've got this piece of garbage sticking up for you." One of the lesbians said. "I bet Matoi's gonna slice your head off with her lasers soon, one of these days. You're one sick fuck. Naomi, you know the type of shit she does?"

I didn't find out until later what they were talking about, but she laughed. They asked her what was so funny.

"Because I know Matoi isn't going to do that, you dumb pimple-faced fuck. Who do you think has the top kills outside of her little group? Who calls me in when she needs hard shit done? Hey, what's your hero name, anyway? I'd like to look up your rank and see how much you fucking contribute around here." Then, she pulled out her tablet. "Oh, huh, rank 96. Guess that's why I'm the one who lives in a mansion and you're out here bullying some chick to get your pussies wet. I'm not a saint, but even I don't do shit like that, harassing somebody for no reason. What's she ever do to you?"

"Hey, maybe while you've got your tablet out, you can check how far Mia is ahead of you." The lesbians start giggling. "Oh, what's the matter? You're getting all r--"

Then she summoned her Revenant. It looked like a spiked metal baseball bat. "I'm giving you five seconds to get out of my fucking sight after that little remark. I'm not gonna tell you twice."

"Ah, God, I know who you're talking about." muttered Julia. "And the bat. She u-used it on a civilian once. *Once.*"

They ran away, and both of us seemed happy over that.

"God damn, there's some sick shits here. Ugh. Lemme... walk you to your house. Make sure they don't come back."

I didn't know her, obviously, but I agreed, and she asked me how long it had been going on for. I told her a little bit about that, and I remember: "They like to gather up and giggle like hyenas. Most people around here are fucked up like that. They like to make you feel bad. Don't listen to any of those cunts. Someone tells you a story about anybody, especially me, listen to it five, ten, fifteen times and suss it out. Otherwise they'll have you rooting for the people you should hate and hating the people you should like."

"And actually, I understand why she did it, since I later learned who she was. It wasn't because she really cared about *me* getting bullied."

"Well, i-in an offhand way, but yeah. I know her."

"But they did stop harassing me. She hasn't said anything to me since then."

"I wouldn't expect her to. She's a walking bag of testosteronic bile. If I-I were to write a story, based on Urasaria, she would certainly be the lead -- she's the most conventionally interesting person I've seen."

"But she's a complete psychopath. Some of the things people told me about her..."

"Pathology is always fertile artistic ground. I could see her introduction now: 'I always felt Kirihara was like a character trapped in a perverse Samuel Beckett play. So much of what we would deem wrong with her came from this dissonance between herself and the species we share.' Now, that one is not a quote."

"I suppose now I'll be in a character in one of your stories."

"Well, you might. But I typically write poetry, which is much harder t-than prose. ... There's something I did want to use, r-recently, actually, now that we're telling each other deeply personal details. I mentioned my dead protege."

"I picked up on that. I'm sorry to hear that."

Julia shook her head. "I was clearing out my phone, recently, and it's been a while since he died. He was, um... a real m-moral scold. He wrote atrocious poetry about gay men, offending me first as an artist and secondly a-as a homosexual. One of the reasons we never got along is he had that order reversed. But, I found a picture we had taken together the first day we were assigned. I thought perhaps i-it would be a memory I preferred keeping frozen, but of course, the more I attempted to do so the more it thawed. I realized I hated him, and I-I was glad he was dead, because he was so goddamn annoying. Perhaps that's petty, but pettiness is a human emotion, and n-not one I can claim to be above."

"...well, but that's good in some way, right? You know what you are."

"Change comes. I won't necessarily file it under good or bad."

"I guess. ... I've had this feeling latch into me for months now. Maybe you would know more about it. This... difficulty with meaning, and feeling relevant. Admittedly, you're probably the smartest person I've talked to in a while, and I can't really go to Serena on Yuruko on things like this."

"What, with your art museum boyfriend?"

"Yes, with my art museum boyfriend. I mentioned that I felt embarrassed about it, as if was exposing some role I was playing to another person."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure why. Maybe I was scared she would ridicule me."

"Well, there's no need to feel ashamed for wanting to i-improve yourself. I still get shit at diners because I read alone. You have to realize that most- fate does exist for many people, and-it doesn't have anything to do with biology. T-They simply, for one reason or another, h-have no ability to be anything else than whatever hand life deals them. It's how things like racism and homophobia and prejudice stay. There's logically no reason behind it, but people grow up in environments where it's normal and refuse to travel into that strange area beyond it."

"You know, Serena tells me- um, she... she, um... tells me how bigoted some people are on campus towards bisexuals. But I just can't imagine acting like that towards another person. You know, I'm treated awfully by a few of the lesbians in my class, but--"

"But if the other, y'know, dykes in your class know what's going on, aren't they culpable? I didn't know, but I'm a fourth-year."

"Well, if I started placing people who abide certain things on the same level as people who do said things, I don't know how I could live without despising everyone. But I've met lesbians, like you, who sympathize with me. I couldn't imagine having any actual prejudice towards lesbians. If I knew I was raised to dislike gay people, yeah, but I've... found that I'm more accepting than other people of certain things. I don't have any real memory of being conditioned in certain ways. It's hard sometimes for me to temper myself because of that, with no strip of memory I can use to remind me to be humble or to comfort me when I'm feeling depressed. You know, I wonder if that's why I have to analyze things so steeply, because I only have these last six months."

"I don't understand it either, bigotry. Or, r-rather I do as needed, but humans h-have very arbitrary laws governing our likes and processes. For bisexuals at Urasaria, especially, I have this theory that prejudice operates very differently under a 5% or so threshold. I've certainly never met any."

"Under 5%?"

"Well, you and I travel, and we meet many people prejudiced against lesbians and students. But the bigots who've encountered students before, who, by the way, somehow know shit about Urasaria even I don't, yet expect me to -- they're very aggressive. Then, there are bigots who have never encountered a student or a lesbian before. They believe anything I-I tell them about us. Right now, there is a family in Idaho who thinks every student has a self-detonating microchip in the event of their death. Bigotry works differently under a certain threshold. God, I forgot what we were... oh. My book reading."

"Oh, right."

"I was at a contract in Texas, recently..."

Now, I had been given the choice between Texas and California, and while California, and the ocean, always represents to me an edge of imagination, Texas also represents freedom -- which is an attractive trait for a writer. I always hope to pass by a Junkosaurus Wrecks, as it makes me think of evolution and creatures who are now extinct, and something of that size naturally places me into a continuum of things. I often find insects do similarly for me.

But there was nothing so artistic as that day. Through decisions I am not proud of, I had ended up at a Waffle House and was reviewing a book I have of Herman Hesse's poems. The waitress came by and asked me: "What are you reading for?"

"What are you reading for?" said Naomi.

What I am reading for. Now, I could understand what am I reading, but I have never been asked what am I reading *for*. I don't know how to answer that. To expand my horizons? To not live a life of quiet desperation? To not end up at a fucking Waffle House again?

Before I could respond, the man ahead of me turned to me and said: "Well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a reader."

It was then I looked outside and saw a couple, walking their dog and child. The dog was not wearing a leash: the child was. I couldn't handle it. I left immediately.

"Ah, God, it was fucking horrifying. I thought that type of degeneracy was only reserved for San Francisco." muttered Julia. "B-But that was when Kate called me."

Naomi nodded. "But back to what I was saying."

"Yes, go ahead."

"I suppose I feel embarrassed because it... I hunt, I play videogames with Serena and her girlfriend, and I kill criminals. But what's the point, really? It all seems so silly." Naomi frowned. "I can see why some people believe in religion to give their life some meaning, or to serve something supernatural."

"Well, but w-we both know it isn't true, which I suspect is why you bring it up. It's ridiculous."

"From what I know about it, yes, but as a ... way to live or a moral framework, religion makes more sense than the alternative of abstract nothingness with zero consequences for anything we do in this life."

"It's still false. Y-Y'know, I'm sorry if I get a little testy about it, I had an atheist phase growing up. I've had every argument one can have on it. It's v-very humancentric to say that humans' idea of meaning is so valuable *to* the universe that it *created* the universe, rather than the other way around. There's no proof for it, to which they say it's not about proof but faith. And, a-after enough pointless debates, i-it no longer interests me to disprove religion with science, it interests me as to why it remains despite that."

"I can agree with that, at least. I wasn't saying I thought God created Revenants or anything like that. ... And if he did, I wish he had also given me a better-fitting tracksuit."

"I see the left sleeve is cut off."

"Yes, you noticed that, along with every single guy in my class. That's their idea of a pickup line."

"I'm surprised that's where they're looking."

"Oh, they look everywhere else, too. It would make me be a little nervous if I wasn't one of the better first-years. Actually, when you asked me, I thought... nevermind. But, I only meant that it could give structure to my life.""

You can't force yourself to believe in something."

"You don't think we need something to believe in or to tell us how to live?"

"But l-look at how tautological and broad that argument is. That's the argument people m-make for it, yes: that humans need religion b-because there have always been religious humans. Go back two thousand years, and humans have a need for slavery. Three hundred years, the genocide of Indians. Arguably, genocide is an older constituent of our makeup than religion. But i-it's a bilious sort of logic that becomes very apparent when applied to anything else."

"But without a divine force like that, doesn't that mean what we do in life is essentially meaningless? What's the point of having this conversation with you, or doing anything, for that matter? I'd almost prefer we be someone's... I don't know, someone's video-game or computer, even if that would mean our lives have little value. There's knowledge, there, at least, that the stupid universe was intended to include us."

"Why do you think a simulation would make life less valuable?"

"What's the point of happiness if it isn't real?"

"Well, now we're back to righteousness. But, one of life's joys is our ability to imbue it with meaning. The non-existence of a god doesn't make it immanently empty. Philosophy and art, they're... they're attempts to imbue it with meaning, and o-obviously I can introduce you to that. But some of what you're feeling is normal. Humans are the only animal who question their existences, and why they live certain ways. We try to make the universe work in our benefit, which we sometimes succeed at, but in the end we can't entirely evade it."

And so Naomi continued her dinner with Julia into the night, and throughout the year, Julia's voice seemed to emanate in her mind from a further place than others. She would return to certain observations, and felt there was something deeper to many of them, even it was her own imbuement. Yet she did not wish to fully undress them, but rather broaden her ignorance through knowing what she did not know. Life soon was no longer globs of a lava lamp that flowed in & out towards her, but something she could construct, even if, as in the parable of the blind men, she could not feel the entire elephant herself.