Emiko tries to reconnect with the "big eight" to overthrow Hell-- with lousy results.
September 1st, 1960.
"Did you have any dreams growing up?" Sumire asked. Emiko looked over at her in the moss.
"Hm?" she asked.
"Did you have any dreams when you were a kid?" the other woman asked. The butch demon shrugged.
"Maybe..." she replied. Sumire puffed up her cheeks at her.
"What?" Emiko asked.
"You're doing it again!"
"You keep giving me the run-around!"
Emiko chuckled. Sumire frowned.
"What?" she complained.
"Okay, okay," Emiko said. "What do you want to know about me?"
"How did you die?" her friend asked. Emiko's face went grim.
"Oh," she said. The butch demon paused for a long moment. She couldn't dodge it in the end. Emiko took in a deep breath.
"I was murdered," she admitted. Sumire eyed her for a second.
"Emiko..." she murmured.
"No, listen," the butch demon cut in. "It was fifteen years ago. The war had just ended. I was twenty-nine at the time. I was quite popular at the time. Both in a good and bad way."
"So what happened?"
Emiko bit her lower lip. "There was this guy. He was an American G.I. Real creep. Kept groping the women. Well, he took an attraction to me. He kept trying to sleep with me. I said no.
"He wouldn't give up. I had to deal with him for two weeks. Finally, I had enough. I told him off one more time. He asked why. I told him I was gay."
"He didn't like that?"
"No. Took a knife to the liver as a result. Died before I could get to the hospital." Emiko chuckled in a mocking way to herself.
"I died for being a dyke," she said. The butch demon noticed her friend's face.
"Oh..." Sumire mumbled. Emiko forced herself to smile.
"So, what were your childhood dreams?" she asked. Sumire took her time pulling herself together.
"Well," she murmured. "I wanted to be a folk singer when I was young."
"No!" Emiko gasped.
"Yeah," the other woman admitted.
"Can you sing?"
"A little bit."
"Will you sing for me one day?"
Sumire's cheeks colored pink. "Uh, well..."
Emiko giggled. "Maybe some other time."
January 23rd, 2010.
Emiko quickly shook her head. I can't get lost in the past. She took in a deep breath.
"Right..." the butch demon mumbled. She picked up the phone and began dialing.
"Hey Kumaraji! Haven't heard from you in a while. How have you been? You doing anything now? I really need you to help me overthrow Hell again. What? You're too tired? But, I need you for this! You'll think about it?" Click.
"Hey Kiku! How have you been? Want to overthrow Hell again? No? Why?" Click.
"Mytho? It's me, Emiko!" Click. The butch demon frowned at the phone.
"Asshole," she mumbled.
"Hello? Is Con there? Great! Get him on the phone. Pause What? He won't come to the phone. Why? Well, can't you make him?" Click.
"Okay then..." Emiko mumbled.
"Hey Sam..." Click. Redial. "Sammy!" Click. Redial. "Hey pal!" Click. Redial. "Hey!" Click.
"Bastard!" Emiko mumbled.
"Hi Suda! It's Emiko again. Change your mind yet?" Click.
"Gee thanks, jerk!" she hissed.
No one picked up. Click.
Progress out of those eight calls? Only two agreed to help. Emiko sat back and sighed. She looked up at the ceiling.
Sumire-chan, this'll take a while. Hang in there. You too, Hoto-chan.
Meanwhile, Ai went to go see Kida-sensei.