Native Daughter

Kate had arranged for a student to guard Cheryl until she could hire a professional; depending on their gender it could be pleasurable or completely fucking unbearable.

By that night they had arranged a meeting with their FBI handler again, though they could never be quite sure if it was the same one. Iris relayed her current theory, but noted she had not yet gathered some final evidence for it.

She showed him the picture with Salvatore and he viewed it. "Do you need to know how I found it?"

"You've shown it before. Most likely recovered via Phantom's time-shift."

"Yes. We found out the man in the middle is Salvatore, the left is dead, and the right is his entourage. The woman's the only one in it who's disguised."

He examined it for a while. "…it's quite useful, Iris. More useful than you know." He looked away from it. "Natasha, leave."

"What?" Natasha frowned. "Why?"

He gave her an unplumbable, shifting look. She glanced to Iris and left when she nodded. "Explain how you recovered this. Obviously, through Phantom's time-shift, but explain it in detail."

"Phantom's primary ability is the manipulation of the time, but it also possesses a secondary ability called Timeline. I believe I mentioned it on my registration, but I, um..."

He said nothing.

She shifted. "In fights, I know what result I want; if I want to rot or repair I can do it instantly. In a crime scene, I reverse time more naturally and see what was there before. That is Timeline. By focusing for an hour, Phantom has enough time to lay its webs over a particular space. I can use that to construct a living timeline of an area."

"Then despite that it's December, you can see a room as it was in November. It reverts objects to where they were, hours or weeks before?"

"Yes. Outside of Timeline, it teleports them back in, so it isn't harmful."

"A criminal host carries a cellphone into an area. He leaves fifteen minutes later. What happens in your timeline?"

"It has restrictions. No sound and no host auras."

"And Revenants, presumably."

"Revenants, it depends on whether I can overpower them or not." She looked off. "Can I ask something? Why aren't you questioning Natasha? Meteorology is also a plenty powerful Revenant."

"Natasha only recently became of interest, and that she might achieve Meteorology's original destructiveness seems unlikely. Without it, she lacks utility. Her potential leverage is not in being hired, but in not being hired elsewhere." he said "That does not apply to Phantom. So long as you host it, agencies will always be interested in you: an enviable position for a student. You've now seen some benefits of government work. It would be prudent for you to examine closely any contract that asks specifically for you from here on: regardless of its supposed description."

"I'll consider it."

"Perhaps you will see more information soon. Leave."

With some discomfort, she left through the wall and went outside Kate's office to Natasha, who was checking her phone. "He wanted to ask about Phantom's Timeline."

"I guess that makes sense." Natasha shrugged.

Iris felt guilty for not sharing more, but she knew she needed to think of her own career. "I'm guessing they'll track one of them for us, and... I'd like to go by Little Alfredo's again, the one with the young woman and young non-host. There's something odd nagging at me since I saw that photo. It isn't how a father would act towards his daughter."

Natasha caught this and nodded.

"Tomorrow, though. I'm too tired for today."

"Yeah, too much time on your knees rooting around old pipes."

Iris snickered as they walked back to their house. Natasha ordered some delivery and took the time for ab exercise, talking as she usually did. "Sucks that place closed down, though. I know they'll be open in Spring, but damn. Now we have drink ourselves to death in our own homes, like civilian lesbians do."

Iris shifted some. "Natasha, I know we joke, but alcoholism's a bit of a serious subject with me. I'd prefer we keep off it."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

Natasha turned the television on, which was playing recaps of the Thanksgiving Day's Parade an hour or so from Urasaria, a type of mass-gathering typically ill-advised and which inevitably leads to a few deaths every year by a student reacting too slowly to a Revenant. She thought it odd how human homeostasis worked, to where even heightened death had become a leveled part of existence with Revenants.

She shrugged and was glad she was a host.

It was Christmas soon. In January it would snow, and she would change her snowy parka into drops of lava thick enough to melt tracks in the snow, yet thin enough to not hurt civilians. She asked Iris what her plans were for Christmas, who replied that she was looking forward to seeing her uncle, for now that she was no longer obligated to him she could leave if she wished. She was much like this; things became more enjoyable once she was no longer demanded to like them.

"Do you usually go home for winter, Natasha?" said Iris.

"No, I usually just stay here and deload with some pigging out. I don't spend holidays with my family."

Iris sensed why and was saddened. "Sorry, Natasha. I'd invite you to stay with me and my uncle, but I doubt that'd be much better for you."

"It's cool, Iris. I just don't talk with my dad much. He doesn't have much approaching a real understanding of me, but he still tries, not because he cares but because he feels like he should. You know what I mean?"

"I do. That's how it usually is with my uncle."

Natasha smiled. "You know, I feel like we're pretty similar, except people tend to like you more than they do me. You just gotta control your anger better, okay?"

"I feel like I've gotten better with that over the past months."

"You have. But, like with the restaurant manager. You've gotta learn that violence can be enjoyable, but it can also be a tool for information. If we played it a little different, just a reminder and not an exertion, maybe we could've finished up different there."

Iris nodded. "I understand."

"Good." said Natasha. "But, yeah, my dad... umm... he stopped trying once I came out as bisexual. I wanted to leave and I wanted a Revenant, so when a Urasaria recruiter came to my school, I talked up with him. They gave me Meteorology for free while I decided, partly to force me to choose, but it turned out well. Maybe I could've joined the military, since I've never been smart with much but murder."

"To Iran, though?"

"Nah. Maybe I could've gone to Japan on humanitarian missions. Sometimes I like to imagine myself holding back some tsunami in the shadow of a Fukushima factory..." She trailed off, and Iris watched as a single bead grew in the corner of her eye, then slid down her cheek and into her parka. "…well. But, I wasn't in a position to choose."

"Did your dad not take you coming out well?"

"Just doesn't understand it. He would ask me how I expected to find a boyfriend with these." Natasha flexed, held it for far longer than necessary, then dropped it. "And what he doesn't understand, he draws back into a base and instinctual reaction. Anything different he meets with ignorance."

"Did you ever date any men?"

"No, don't worry, I'm not stained. Mostly lesbian now."

Iris shrugged. "Natasha, it doesn't matter to me. I hate all of that gold-star foolishness."

"True, but at Urasaria I'd rather come out as someone who slurps feces than someone who'd date men." Natasha shrugged. "So, that was my dad's reaction. We don't talk much. Wanna hear about my mom?"

"Is she around?"

"Yeah. My dad's the one with custody of me, since she was only around for... few years before she left. Some small niggling defect of their relationship that made her initiate divorce. She always pulled the 'you've grown so fast' when I go see her, even though to me, it took forever to grow up."

"Well, to you, but think of it from the perspective of a 10-year-old. 5 years is half your life but a tenth of your mom's. Kids can fixate on something for months that an adult has too little space in their life to remember."

"Yep. I eventually came out to her, too. After my dad's reaction, I was anxious -- if the man that raised me didn't accept me, how would the woman who didn't? But to my surprise, she was pretty nice. Odd, but nice. I still don't see her more than once a year."

"By choice?"

"Mine, yeah. She's just... weird. She'd always give these odd gifts at Christmas or Thanksgiving. One time, she gave me a two-pack of guppies, still in the shitty little bag they put them in. I looked inside and there was only one in there. He escaped."

"Or she dropped him in her mouth and ate him."

Natasha giggled. "She'd promise to be at Christmas and just never show up. Both my parents are weird, but my mom, especially. Maybe she lacked enthusiasm for life, and that's why she left, after having a kid didn't... but, who knows? Could just be weird. This was a woman who had a lump on her breast she thought was cancer, and instead of going to a hospital, just had someone come over and hack it off with a knife.

But it might've been because of that lack of enthusiasm why she accepted me more than my dad. Maybe my dad's mind had an impression of me that refused to shift, while my mom barely cared what I was or becoming, and so whether I was a student or bisexual was arbitrary. Better she be apathetic than my dad interrogating me about being a whore."

Iris looked at her oddly. "Natasha, you dress like a woman in Saudi Arabia."

"Hey, offensive." Natasha winked. "Nah, I used to be more open. Never too slutty, though. Besides, it's not like I'm a virgin, I just... I don't know. If I hook up with civilian women, they seem frightened when I mention I'm a student, and it just makes me feel like shit. If I get with students, then not only am I exposing myself to rumors, but some of them have this intensity with sex that frightens me."

"Natasha, do you mind if I ask you something? I'm not sure if it's related."

"Sure."

"What was it that happened between you and Olivia?"

Natasha looked to Iris as if considering what to say, yet Iris could tell she had already decided to keep that unopened. "It's private. I thought I could scorn Viktoria, in a way, but instead she blamed Olivia for it and obsessed over me even more. I was weak and I hurt someone I treasured. But I do keep it private, because I respect Olivia." She shrugged. "Enough that I'm not gonna ask how you picked up on that, but anyway."

"She seemed regretful when I mentioned you during swap week. But I don't mean to prod."

"Hey, it's okay. I know I've asked you some uncomfortable questions too."

"Uh-huh." Iris grinned. "Speaking of uncomfortable questions, what do you think'll happen with Cheryl?"

"I'm hoping she doesn't request me by name."

"She said you looked like a man, so you might be safe."

"Hey, that was her student friend. But that's the biggest compliment a lifting woman can get. That and steroid accusations." Natasha snickered.

"I still feel she might have more information than she lets on. Can't understand why she seems... obsessed with students, given she isn't one or even a host."

"Well, maybe she can't host a Revenant and she admires students for what she can't be, or she's rogue."

"Not the way she reacted to that corpse." muttered Iris. "I understand why, but it was goddamn difficult to not shout at her to quit her wailing."

"She might be some weird pacifist rogue host?" said Natasha. "I don't know. I got my Revenant transferred from a corpse, so I don't know how birth Revenants work."

Iris shook her head. "Nah. It's a native desensitization; I experienced it within weeks of activation. Remember, I was a rogue host for six years, too."

"Were you, y'know, out? To other hosts?"

"Mostly, and given I told them I'd sign up for Urasaria eventually most never begrudged me."

"You ever get into any fights with them?"

"Frequently, yes. There's not much point in relating most of those beatings: they're usually the same, regardless of whatever reason I might've had for it." said Iris. "But I couldn't be a coward when I was rogue, Natasha. People would've taken advantage of me if I was, and I needed to make sure I could shut them up if they threatened to report me. I suppose that might've… scarred my reputation some."

"Then do you think some of it was an act?"

"I don't think it matters. Everyone becomes who they pretend to be." she muttered. "Emotions harden into habit and things flower upon themselves. I... I mean, it's not like I already haven't had an angry disposition. A year at that mechanic shop dealing with people so stupid they didn't know shit from syphilis. I fantasized weekly about going around and slamming a blunt instrument into the skull of everybody whose character it might improve."

Natasha snickered. "Hey, enemy hosts only."

"I've been better with it recently. You see how I am in fights, though."

"Yeah, you're aggressive. I'm the same way. You know, uh… I guess we both had a little instability in our home life. You went through much worse, but we both turned out alright. Most women barely survive their father anyway." Natasha looked to check if Iris was offended, and when she was not said: "And you know, somebody doesn't have to be male to be a father, either. Lesbians can be fathers, too."

"What?"

"At least that's why I think random women keep coming up to me and calling me daddy-"

"-stop it-" laughed Iris - "-god, I knew it'd be some stupid set up-"

"-and I especially don't understand why all of my children are twice my age and begging me to choke them-"

"-god damnit, s-stop." laughed Iris. "…i-if being called that was the criteria for fatherhood, we'd both be fathers."

"Damn, girl. Does Amelie call you that?" Natasha grinned. "Y'know, when you're..."

"No, I haven't asked her to."

"Do you usually need to?"

"Honestly, no, I just... I... I don't think it'd be very conducive." she muttered. "Not sure what I mean by that. I've noticed certain inhibitions I have with her that I haven't felt restricted by before. Maybe she's not purely innocent, but she is very sweet... part of me worries I need to tend myself carefully around her."

"I'm sure you're not gonna corrupt her, Iris."

"Maybe." Too much of this talk discomfited Iris. "You mentioned you used to live in Florida, right? My uncle's got a timeshare down there."

"Sounds right. It's a nice state for a week and most people get stuck there for years."

"Did you ever go hunting or fishing?"

"I don't hunt bears, I just want to look like one."

Iris snickered. "Well, possibilities opened once Phantom activated. I like both kinds of hunting. I remember when... my parents brought me out to fish, and my dad was showing me how to hook live bait. Small, at first, just worms. My mother winced whenever he hooked one, and only then did I realize those worms were in pain."

"Kids don't feel some things until they're conditioned to by adults."

Iris nodded. "Right. And I felt bad for them, then. But, when I told my uncle about that memory, he doubted that it could've been a real memory. My parents never took me fishing: they never had a license to do so. He thought it was possible I mixed it up with the time when we went to his timeshare, but... I just felt too disgusted to listen much more."

"Does it matter whether it was true or not?"

"Maybe not. But it annoyed me, being asked to subject a reality that gave me more of my parents underneath the greater that gave me too little of them. But, I still like fishing and hunting... and I prefer to use live bait now. I'd like to get out to Florida sometime next year."

"That's the first time anyone has ever uttered that sentence."

They laughed.

"So, did you live with your uncle while you were rogue?" said Natasha. "You were still 14."

"My uncle, yes."

"He didn't mind you being a rogue host?"

"It wouldn't matter what he minded. He had about the same tether to reality that he does now, although I suspect his relative lucidity now is only because he's become accustomed to his addiction. He's an alcoholic."

"…oh, that's why you... shit. I'm sorry, Iris."

"It's alright. I've mentioned before that it bores me, because... he's not an abusive alcoholic, mind you, but lazy enough that I still resent him." Iris sighed. "He starts drinking, sometimes he'll try to lower his intake. He fails to recover and he starts again. He comes home slurring his speech; even minor speech perplexes him. It wasn't so much the addiction that kept me out of the house, it was his awkward attempts to apologize for it. After a point I had no desire to see more of what that could become."

"But you did live with him for over five years. He gave you a job."

"What obligation does that give me to him?" she said defensively. "He's a drunken loser, like Amelie's mentor Claire. I just..."

"Maybe. I just wouldn't entirely cut off your family unless you're forced to. My dad's different, since he was the one who... but I think you'll find that even an imperfect family will be more reliable than most other students."

"I don't intend to rely on either."

"You don't feel you rely on me? Or Amelie?"

"That's not dependence, that's friendship, with you."

"But it is an interdependence. I understand myself better when I see myself reflected in the eye of another, as you do me. And I remember a magician Revenant disproving you... well, but you did solo it too. I guess what I mean is that over the months we've had together, you seem to view commitment as a weakness: that to form attachments is a trap."

Iris glanced down. "…I'm sorry, Natasha. I do consider you my friend, and I'm glad we were assigned together. I didn't mean to ever come off like I wasn't. I just usually don't express my emotions too strongly."

"Me too, Iris. But I wasn't referring to me."

Iris looked off. "…she hasn't asked me to."

"Why haven't you?"

"She's out on a contract until January. I couldn't ask her right now."

"But I know you still won't, Iris, even when she gets back. I know it isn't a fear of rejection. So why?"

"I will, I'll just..." Iris trailed off. She tried to think through her answer using logic, but she could not. She tried emotion. "…I suppose I'm afraid of the risk of being with her. She's always out on contracts or investigations. I feel she's too independent, that I wouldn't be able to control..."

"But she's a student. You can't blame her for that."

"Then she can't blame me for how I act."

"The way you react, though: it feels as if you think that she's led you on."

"She has." muttered Iris.

"How?"

"…I-I don't know."

"She isn't malicious, Iris. If she has led you on in some way, then I'm sure it isn't intentional. I don't think she's doing so to intentionally hurt or misdirect you."

"S-She hasn't asked me, either, but you're right that even if I feel like it's her fault... I-I don't know. She makes me feel this way sometimes with the way she acts and t-talks, a-and..." Iris was caught in a vague net of associative memory. She remembered recently a time where her and Amelie were having sex, and she felt that she had shamed Amelie by looking at her in a particular way. She felt confused. "…I-I just feel sometimes that I wish there was this strict line I could draw up between us, that I could put my dependency on one side of it and myself the other. B-But she doesn't discomfort me. Not at all. The o-only thing I hate of her is that power lingering; what my idealization of her has led over me."

"I understand, Iris. But there's nothing to be ashamed of not being able to control something. There's no weakness to that."

"I know that, but..." Iris wiped her eyes. "…I-I know I've no right to control it. It isn't an abusive urge that draws me. Amelie is her own woman; I understand that, even as this selfish urge sets me adrift from that rational shade of myself. But she's yet another part of my life outside of my control. I thought that when I joined Urasaria, I might avoid that feeling. I've tried to ignore it. I thought perhaps that if it were pushed back for long enough it wouldn't continue to haunt me. But... suddenly it's found me."

"What do you feel would happen, then? If you did let yourself be attached to it?"

"That it would then prove how stupid and foolish I was for doing so. I've… I've tried to ignore it again, for the past few weeks. Occasionally my hope turned outwards and towards Amelie as a means of rectifying it, even if it meant the risk of entrusting myself with another human being again."

"But do you feel it would be right to ask your partner to right what was inflicted on you as a teenager?"

"…for my entire relationship with her I've tried to have that conversation with myself." muttered Iris. "It's been difficult to think through it in precise words. I usually thought of it in images: of control, of anger and of selfishness. But after months of doing so and what I've revealed now, I feel this awful sense of deceit towards both myself and her, yet one that even now I still feel I have no right to be guilty over."

Natasha rubbed her shoulder. Iris seemed convinced she was right of this, and she knew it was not her position to say otherwise. "I don't think it's deceitful, Iris. Not in the main. You can only act towards her the way you know how."

They continued to talk, though soon her usual mode of existence reasserted itself and she retreated from discussion of Amelie. But slowly a part of her had been evoked and an essence of herself had been drawn out by Natasha's questions, a portion that could be extended to those in her life to be grasped, to allow them to breathe a further life into a clay not yet whole.

This hard, core consciousness unraveled in Iris, and she wanted to taste again what she had with Natasha. She felt as though she had been caught off guard. For a moment she felt defensive. Yet Natasha had a confidence that Iris had wished to grab onto and rise up with her, that there was more of herself she could understand by watching her. She regretted not having yet melded into such a moment with Amelie.

At the pinnacle of her feeling there was joy or despair; where the possible met the probable but it had not yet been decided which one. A strong counter-emotion waxed in herself, warning her to leave this newly-felt thing alone. But she felt her feelings needed to be woven into hate or hope; that there were limits to how strongly she could value herself and place her own sense of self otherwise.