The Meeting from Hell

I wouldn't say I hate my job.

But when you're sitting in a blindingly white, air-conditioned corporate tomb, still covered in dust and reeking of burnt seafood, while your boss glares at you like you personally set fire to her life savings, it's hard to justify showing up.

Especially when she starts listing your crimes like a judge at a public execution.

"You crashed through three buildings."

I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. "Technically, it was two and a half."

Kanna Sakuragi, my supervisor and an enemy of my peace, doesn't even blink. "And then exploded a car."

"Okay, that wasn't my fault. The Aberrant threw me into it."

She scrolls through her tablet. "And you punched a city train off its tracks."

…That one makes me pause.

I scratch the back of my head. "Listen. The train was in the way. I was moving at Mach 2. I had two options—go through it or derail it. I took the more ethical route."

Kanna slowly lowers the tablet, her expression blank in that murdery kind of way. "How the hell is derailing a train more ethical?"

"No passengers. Only cargo." I shrug. "Some imported seafood got a little… scattered."

Long. Dangerous. Silence.

"Seafood," she says flatly. "Got scattered."

"Yes."

I can hear the gears in her head turning, running the numbers, calculating how many millions of credits just went up in smoke because of me.

Honestly? Not my problem.

Kanna slowly exhales through her nose, the kind of deep breath people take before committing a felony.

"Ryo," she says, voice tight with exhaustion, "do you even understand how much damage you cause on a regular basis?"

"I mean," I shrug, "I get emails about it."

Her eye twitches.

She rubs her temples. "Right. Well, lucky for you, the higher-ups think you need 'better synergy' with your squadmates. So, congratulations—"

She claps once, slowly, like she's about to deliver the greatest punishment known to man.

"—you're getting a new partner."

I immediately sit up. "No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not, I work better alone. You know this."

"Too bad."

A horrible, sinking feeling pools in my gut.

And then—

"IN THE NAME OF LOVE AND JUSTICE, I HAVE ARRIVED!"

The office door explodes open.

A storm of glitter and light floods the room, momentarily blinding me.

And standing in the doorway—one hand on her hip, the other dramatically pointing at the heavens—is a nightmare I am not prepared to deal with.

No.

No. No. No no no no—

"FEAR NOT, FOR STARLIGHT ANGEL SHALL CLEANSE THE DARKNESS WITH THE PURITY OF FRIENDSHIP!"

There she is.

Amane Hoshikawa.

The walking magical girl fever dream. The human embodiment of a radioactive Lisa Frank sticker.

She's glowing. I don't mean metaphorically—she is literally glowing.

I grip the arms of my chair so hard I hear the metal bend.

Kanna, this absolute demon of a woman, just smirks.

"Meet your new partner."

I stare at her. Dead inside.

"I quit."

"Rejected."

I slowly turn back to the walking highlighter still posing in the doorway.

Her eyes meet mine. They shine.

Oh no.

She gasps like she's seeing a long-lost lover.

"So! It is YOU, my eternal rival!"

"No, it's not."

"It is our fate to battle evil side by side—"

"It really isn't."

Kanna checks the time, already done with this conversation. "You two are now a unit. Your next mission starts tomorrow. Dismissed."

I slump back, staring at the ceiling as Amane strikes another pointless heroic pose.

"With the power of justice, we shall—"

"I'm going home." I stand up and walk out.

"H-Hey! Wait for me!"

She follows me. Of course she does.

I should've stayed in bed.

No—scratch that. I need the money.

I just hope they don't cut my pay.

…Wait.

She's still here. And people are staring. I hate stares.

That's right—Amane is kind of famous. Not just for being strong, but because she's one of those childish women who attract stupid men.

Yeah, she's kinda beautiful. But I'm more of a personality guy.

…

I'm rambling again.

The elevator doors close—or try to—before Amane pirouettes inside, trailing stardust and the faint scent of cotton candy. I jab the "lobby" button like it owes me money.

"So!" she chirps, bouncing on her heels. "What is our first bonding exercise? Synchronized combat drills? Oath-swearing under the blood moon? Braiding each other's hair—?"

"Silence," I mutter. "And turn off the glitter. You're violating OSHA."

"But sparkles are mandatory for morale!"

"My morale is currently in a landfill."

The elevator dings. I bolt into the lobby, but she materializes in front of me, arms spread like a neon prophet. Employees scatter, phones already out. Of course. Amane's fanbase treats her like a hybrid of a pop star and a deity. One guy drops his coffee, mouth agape.

"Behold, citizens!" she announces. "Your protectors stand united!"

I sidestep her, ducking behind a potted fern. "We're not united. I'm being held hostage."

She gasps. "Your heart is shackled by cynicism! Fear not—I shall liberate it with the warmth of camaraderie!"

"Liberate this," I say, flipping her off as I push through the glass doors.

Outside, the city's a jagged tapestry of skyscrapers and scaffolding. The aftermath of my last fight still scars the block: a crater where the seafood truck had been, construction drones buzzing like metallic wasps. Amane skips up beside me, unfazed.

"Your destructive flair is… unique!" she says, admiring the chaos. "But imagine if we combined our techniques! My Starlight Barrage with your—" She squints. "What do you even call your fighting style? Reckless demolition?"

"Survival." I spot my bike—a battered cycle with more duct tape than paint—and swing a leg over. "Don't follow me."

Amane tilts her head. "But our destinies are intertwined!"

"Destiny's a scam. Go bother a traffic cone."

She doesn't move.

Five seconds pass.

"Why are you still here?"

Her smile doesn't waver. "I don't know where you live."

"And you never will."

"Kanna gave me your address."

So... does she know where I live or not...

Wait...

My blood freezes. "She what—?"

Amane whips out her phone, showing me a map. "It's marked 'Ryo's Hovel of Despair.' Charming!"

I consider veering into oncoming traffic.

Instead, I gun it. The bike lurches forward—but a pink streak latches onto my back. Amane clings like a radioactive koala, her laughter ringing in my ears.

"ADVENTURE AWAITS!"

We fishtail into the street, nearly clipping a billboard advertising Kanna's least-favorite energy drink: Aberrant-Ade! Now with 200% More Regret!

"Get. Off."

"Never! Partnership is persistence!"

I take a sharp left, aiming for a pothole the size of a meteor strike. The bike bucks violently. Amane's grip tightens.

"You're adorable when you're petty!"

"I'm practical when I'm petty—!"

A proximity alarm blares. My watch flashes red.

"Aberrant detected: 200 meters. Risk Level: C."

Amane's grip shifts, her voice suddenly steel. "Turn right. Now."

I don't argue.

We skid into an alley as the ground quakes. A block away, a six-legged monstrosity made of molten asphalt peels itself off the street. Civilians scream.

Amane leaps off the bike, her glow dialing from "annoying" to "blinding." "Ready, partner?"

"Not your partner." I crack my knuckles. "But I'll take the overtime pay."

She grins. "Leave the glitter to me!"

"Leave the survivors to me," I mutter, charging forward.

The Aberrant roars.

So much for going home.

The Aberrant's roar rattled the alley dumpsters. Six molten asphalt legs punched craters into the street as it lurched toward a crowd of fleeing office workers. Its body rippled like a heat mirage, dripping globs of tar that hissed where they landed.

Great. Another Monday.

I cracked my neck. "Fuck it. I'm popping Express Train."

The train whistle screamed in my bones before I even finished the sentence. My jacket—Iron Conductor, according to AetherCorp's pretentious naming department—shimmered to life, glowing rail lines snaking down my arms. The gauntlet on my right fist hummed, kinetic energy thrumming in my veins like a live wire.

Amane twirled beside me, her Celestial Wand already sparking pink. "Fear not, citizens! Love and justice shall—"

"Less talking, more shooting!" I barked, launching myself forward.

The Aberrant swiped a claw. I ducked, asphalt talons shearing through a fire hydrant. Water geysered into the air as I revved my fist back. Momentum Rail lit up, gears whining.

Rule 1 of Express Train: Once you start moving, you don't stop.

I charged.

The world blurred. My boots left glowing rail lines in the pavement as I zigzagged, building speed. The Aberrant pivoted, molten eyes tracking me—until Amane's starburst blast smacked it in the face.

"Distracted, beastie!" she sang.

I hit Mach 1.

The gauntlet connected. Kinetic force detonated in a shockwave, ripping the Aberrant's front legs clean off. It screeched, stumbling back, but I was already careening past it. Shit. Express Train's downside: no brakes. I plowed through a chain-link fence, a parked sedan, and half a brick wall before skidding to a stop.

Amane floated down beside me, skirt fluttering. "Your technique lacks flair."

"My technique lacks health insurance," I shot back, shaking debris off my jacket.

The Aberrant wasn't done. Its oozing body knitted itself back together, tar bubbling into new limbs. Amane gasped. "Regeneration? How unfair!"

"Risk Level C my ass," I muttered. NeuroSync's threat assessments were always 24 hours out of date.

The creature lunged. Amane slammed her staff down, a glittering barrier erupting between us. The Aberrant recoiled, hissing as its claws sizzled against the light.

"Now, partner!" she yelled. "Strike its core!"

"I'm not your—!" I bit back the retort. Priorities.

The core glowed faintly in its chest—a pulsing orb of FLARE energy. Of course. This thing had gorged on someone's panic attack, probably a stockbroker mid-meltdown.

I crouched, rail lines flaring. "Cover me."

Amane nodded, her staff blazing. "By the cosmos' grace—!"

"Skip the monologue!"

She fired a barrage of starbursts, pinning the Aberrant against a storefront. I exploded forward, gauntlet charging. The whistle shrieked.

Rule 2 of Express Train: The longer the sprint, the bigger the boom.

I'd cleared three blocks when I hit critical velocity. The gauntlet's gears screamed. The Aberrant's core swelled in my vision—

Crack.

My fist shattered it. The creature imploded with a wet gloop, splattering the street with harmless sludge.

I slid to a stop, steam rising off my jacket. Amane landed daintily beside me, wand sparkling.

"A victory forged in teamwork!" She struck a pose. "Our bond is unstoppable!"

"Our bond is a HR violation," I grumbled, flexing my hand. Three fingers dislocated. Again.

She leaned in, eyes wide. "You're injured! Allow me to—"

"Don't you dare."

Too late. Her staff glowed. My bones snapped back into place with a sickening pop.

"Ta-da!"

I gagged. "Warn me next time!"

"But surprises build trust!"

AetherCorp drones descended, scanning the battle site. One beeped at the shattered storefront.

Casualties: 0.

Property Damage: ¥8,420,000.

FLARE Tax Deduction: ¥7,000,000.

I scowled at the hologram. "There goes my paycheck."

Amane peered over my shoulder. "Oh! We qualify for a teamwork bonus!"

"We qualify for a lobotomy."

She skipped ahead, oblivious. "Next time, let's coordinate our finishing move! I'll summon a rainbow vortex, and you—"

"Next time, I'm calling in sick."

The drones whirred, tallying the damage. Somewhere, Kanna was smirking.

I pulled out my phone. One new message:

"AetherCorp HR: Mandatory partner bonding exercise added to your calendar. 8 AM tomorrow. Bring glitter."

I considered throwing myself into traffic.

Amane twirled, her skirt defying physics. "Onward, rival! Destiny awaits!"

Destiny, my ass.

But the train whistle echoed in my ears anyway.