Sandwiched between elementary, middle, and high schools was the central district—the most expensive, most worth prioritizing for development in the whole school zone.
Between them, on the route to the elementary school, lay a sandpit. That was where Yimi had won her cards yesterday. In the corner, a stack of concrete pipes—just like the ones from Doraemon's vacant lot—served as Yimi's latest hideout. When she was sleepy, she could crawl to the middle of a pipe and sleep with a real sense of security. On lucky days, students would stop by to feed her.
Right now she was back in human form, lying stretched across the top of a pipe, turning the beautiful cards over and over in her hands—with hands that surpassed almost any animal's.
Yimi had discovered a new pleasure: reading the tiny text on the cards was interesting, even though she could barely make out most of the words. And the monster illustrations—some of them were quite engaging. She arranged them by personal preference. Specifically, which she would most like to eat.
"Thief—give them back!"
"Mew?"
A disruptive voice from below. The little girl sat up, confused.
It was Zhenjun from yesterday, with the buzzcut boy trailing behind. The consequences of not finishing the job had made themselves known immediately.
Yimi looked at the cards she had just neatly organized and pocketed them. "I won these."
That successfully turned Zhenjun's neck red with fury. "You stole them—you hit me yesterday and now you're pretending it didn't happen?!"
"Zhenjun, it's embarrassing to get beaten by a girl—don't bring it up again." The buzzcut boy was still delivering commentary from the side.
"Shut up!"
"Hmm?" Yimi didn't understand. She produced the decisive card from yesterday and pointed at its skill text. "It told me to."
Only then did Zhenjun remember the rules he had invented on the spot the day before.
"That didn't count—there are no skills in slam cards, you can only slam!"
What a baffling person. He was the one who said skills were allowed, and now he was taking it back. Yimi resolved never to become such a poor excuse for a person.
She jumped down from the concrete pipe, card in hand, and pointed at the skill text. "Play again."
"Violent girl..."
Zhenjun swallowed hard. His head was already starting to throb, but he couldn't swallow his pride either.
He produced a sealed pack of cards. "Fine—this time, no skills. Dare you?"
"Rua~" Yimi immediately lost interest.
But she caught sight of the new cards he was tearing open—ones she didn't have yet—including one with a little cat on it.
...
Ten minutes later, the tail pinned under the waistband of her shorts twitched involuntarily. Yimi bit her thumbnail without thinking, her other hand clutching the last three cards she hadn't dared to play.
"Ha—I won again. Are you any good at this?" The boy crowed with immediate satisfaction.
"Zhenjun, it's not that impressive to beat a girl who's never played before..."
"Shut up—whose side are you on, anyway?"
Though his smugness had been deflated by his friend, the self-satisfied expression he'd worn just now had rubbed the cat the wrong way.
"Next round—my turn." Yimi gathered up her cards and glanced around. No sign of Shiori.
She slammed down hard, then released a quiet pulse of the thin trickle of Reiryoku she had recovered to nudge the card over.
"I win."
"Lucky shot... nothing to be proud of winning once."
Slam again.
"I win again."
"Hmph. Decent luck."
...
"I've won them all." The little cat tidied the thick stack of cards in her hands with deep satisfaction, eyes narrowing until her mouth was almost a little three-part cat mouth.
She pointed at the boy who had been taunting her and gave it right back to him: "What a small fry."
"Sm—small fry?" The boy's voice came out small as he repeated the insult, a flush creeping up his cheek—from anger, most likely.
"Zhenjun just got cleaned out of all his cards by a first-time girl!" The buzzcut boy pressed the attack.
"One more word and I'll hit you!" The boy rolled his fist, face flushed, jabbing a finger at Yimi's nose. "Today was just luck—just you wait."
Buzzcut: "Classic last words from a villain..."
"You—!"
"The small fry ran away—small fry." At those words from Yimi, the boy's steps visibly faltered—but he ran off without looking back.
The defeated enemy had fled.
The System hadn't been entirely right. Not finishing someone off might just mean they'd keep bringing you card packs.
"My, my~" A distinctive verbal tic rang out from directly behind Yimi, making her jump.
In human form her sense of smell wasn't nearly as sharp, and with her ears muffled under the cap, she hadn't noticed anyone approaching.
It was one of those many identical women—but only one today, wearing her hair over one eye.
"That was Reiryoku just now, wasn't it—little guy?"
Kurumi Tokisaki hadn't actually come to find this possibly-new-Spirit child specifically. She had mainly heard from her clones about a cat somewhere nearby that let them pet it without fleeing, and had taken a detour to look. She had even bought a bag of sausages on the way.
But she had been circling for three rounds now without finding the cat—only to stumble onto a Spirit child bullying other kids with Reiryoku, which was entertaining in its own right.
"I did hear there was a new Spirit in Tengu City... well, you must have met Shiori already, yes?"
"Mm-mew?"
Something about this woman's speech pattern was strange—and oddly familiar.
Yimi tilted her head back, rummaging through her memories. Barely over a year old, she didn't have much to search through, but she quickly surfaced the relevant fragment.
Watching TV with Mom—the little people trapped inside the black rectangle sometimes made a sound that went ara mama.
Then the person who swept the floors every day—the maid—had walked past and said something.
Most of it was gone now. But because she had heard certain words before, a few details still lingered.
The maid, sweeping: "Miss is watching a Japanese magical girl anime now? But please don't copy the verbal tics—going around saying 'ara mama' all day would make people think you're an idiot weeb. Back when I was in school I had a phase like that... pfft! Please forget that sentence. And the one after it."
Most of it was gone—but those few words she still remembered.
Yimi pointed at Kurumi and repeated the maid's label: "Idiot weeb."
"Congratulations, Host, for unlocking the achievement [Equal Opportunity Insulter]. System reluctantly awards 5% portal energy and does not encourage this behavior to continue."
"...Little guy, did I do something to offend you?"
Yimi relayed the maid's reasoning: "People who go 'ara mama' are idiot weebs."
"...Heh." Kurumi's smile didn't reach her eyes as she reached out to pinch Yimi's chubby cheek.
She truly felt like taking a bite out of this child.
"Nightmare." An out-of-place voice arrived from the side.
Right—about the time high schoolers would be finishing their day.
Kurumi tilted her head. "Ara... Tobiichi-san, wasn't it?"
Origami didn't respond. She glanced at Yimi standing next to Kurumi—Shiori's distant cousin, or at least that's what Shiori said—then produced her phone and photographed them together.
"What are you doing, Tobiichi-san?"
"Showing Shiori that Tokisaki-san preys on children."
"Ara, that's a misunderstanding. Tobiichi-san does dislike Spirits, doesn't she?" Kurumi gave Yimi's head a light pat. "It seems you don't yet know... well, mm. That does sound amusing."
She turned and walked away. With no Spacequake alert triggered, neither side had any justification to initiate a confrontation in the middle of the city.
Origami stepped forward and looked down at Yimi.
Yimi looked up at her.
Oh—it's the freeloader idiot again.