Chapter 15: Power Of Friendship

Hazel found herself at her doorstep before she knew it.

Liam had to use his magic to teleport Chester’s body back to the headquarters along with Luca and Ava, leaving Hazel to find a way back on her own. Still, the walk back was nowhere as long as she wanted it to be. Her mind had barely even begun organising her feelings; it was still in too much of a daze.

Metal jingled in her hands as she mechanically twisted her house keys in the door lock. She could feel everything; the cold wind on her skin, the harsh metal pressing back against her palm, the lonely twilight darkness surrounding her.

It was… unpleasant.

“Welcome back, Hazel— What’s wrong?”

Hazel ran forward, throwing her body against her grandfather’s frail body. She sobbed uncontrollably into his chest for a good few seconds.

“You… were right. I couldn’t… save them…” the girl wheezed between spasms. “I was so useless, pops…”

She babbled incoherently. The shock was beginning to ebb, leaving grief and helplessness to take turns swallowing her words. If Grandfather was puzzled, he was keeping his confusion at bay. The man remained as still as a tree, waiting patiently for his granddaughter to finish spilling her emotions.

“Is this… Was this how Mum and Dad felt?” Hazel wiped her tears pointlessly. “My friend, Chester… He was killed. But I knew. I was the only one who knew, and I tried to stop it! But… But what’s the point of knowing what’s going to happen when you don’t know what to do? I feel so… powerless.”

Grandfather bowed his head knowingly and pulled a chair out for her.

“Fate cannot be fought. The bill always comes due,” he said. “As clairvoyants, we only have the power to decide when to pay it. But sometimes, that isn’t enough. We are not in control of life’s grand flow, my dear. We can only see its currents.”

“Is that it, then?” Hazel sobbed. “Is that all we can do? To be mere audiences to our own story? You’re right; our gift brings nothing but pain.”

“That’s—” Grandfather hesitated for a brief moment before his face fell. “Yes. Yes, it is. Now do you see why I kept your memories locked away?”

Hazel nodded. “I… I’m tired, pops. I’m going to head to bed.”

“Just a moment, Hazel.”

The girl turned back.

“You used the gun, didn’t you?”

Hazel froze for a moment, before reaching for her backpack. “You slipped it into my bag last time, didn’t you? You sly fox.”

Hubert Chekov chuckled softly. “What? I thought you liked tricks.”

“Thank you, pops.” Hazel threw her arms around her grandfather again. “It saved my life, although it wasn’t enough to save…”

Her voice trailed away as tears welled up in her eyes again. Grandfather put his hand on her head affectionately, blinking a few times as a yellow glow flickered in his irises.

“Everything will be just fine from now on, my dear girl. Everything will be just fine.”

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The next Monday afternoon was a humid one; the kind of day where you can sweat a whole river but not feel even a bit of difference.

In other words, a normal school day in summer.

In fact, it couldn’t be more normal. There was the occasional thud of a badly aimed basketball smacking into the side of a school block, the shrill yelling of some middle-aged teacher for a James Collins to ‘Come here right now’, and the laughter of students fleeing back into their classes. Nothing had changed.

Nothing except for the two empty desks beside her.

Hazel packed her things with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner of war digging her own grave. The bell had rung ten minutes ago, and the school was already deserted in five. It was the last day of school before summer break, after all.

The girl picked up her returned assignment. There was a neatly marked ‘seventy-six out of one hundred’ score on the top right side. Her hand slipped as she put it in her bag, and another paper dropped to the table.

Hazel picked it up, staring at the ‘eight-one out of one hundred’ score for a moment. It seemed that her teacher had accidentally wedged Chester’s assignment between her paper.

She sighed softly, putting his paper into her bag as well. Everything was over so quickly. Tomoko had skipped the last day without even the slightest explanation to anyone, and Chester…

Well, Missus Rogers simply informed the class that Chester’s parents had requested special permission to withdraw from the school and bring him back to London. Everyone accepted it without question, although a few of them seemed a little down.

Hazel wasn’t surprised. Chester Watson wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but most people knew him. And if they knew him, they liked him. He was a little loud-mouthed, sure. But he more than made up for it with his infectious energy.

Besides, no one could’ve guessed what truly happened. He was too much of a clown to be involved in anything dangerous, wasn’t he? He was too lively to even understand how to be a corpse, right?

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He just… wasn’t that kind of person.

It was nearly five in the evening when Hazel found herself facing the worn-out doors to the journalism club room.

For better or for worse, the hype over occult articles had died down in less than a day due to Hazel’s slow response. It meant that she had lost her chance to be popular, sure. But writing about the supernatural world left a bitter taste in her mouth, now that she knew how ugly it really was.

Metal jingled lightly in her hands as Hazel fished out the Journalism Club Room key once again—

“Oh, you’re still here?”

Hazel turned back. Liam was standing behind her, hands in his pockets. His eyes were puffier than usual, as though he hadn’t slept the night before. Actually, he probably didn’t.

“Liam.” Hazel addressed him with a wry smile. “What’s the matter, interested in the journalism club?”

The boy stared at her for a few seconds before breaking into a soft laugh.

“Maybe I am,” he said. “It’s a peaceful life; that’s for sure. Far better than fighting Wendigos and monster cats.”

The smile slipped off Hazel’s face. “How’s…”

“Chester’s parents decided to store his body within a pill of eternity. Pointless, I know. But I can understand the sentiment. They’ve been quiet through it all. No fight, no shouting. Just… silence. And they’re dropping the migration project.”

Hazel’s shoulders dropped further. “What about you?”

“I don’t object, even though there’s still the problem of the Rokurokubi that managed to escape in the commotion of our battle.” Liam shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m probably also going to have to answer for killing my best friend’s murderer when HQ comes for me.”

“What are you going to tell your superiors?”

“That I quit too,” he said, bitterness spilling from his voice. “What’s the point of trying to save the world when you’ve already lost everyone you loved? I’m done with this rubbish about ‘duty and responsibility’. I’ll stay a Magus, of course. But House duties? Count me out. That stray Rokurokubi can roam free and kill people for all I care.”

“I… I have something to tell you. I just found out that I have Magus blood in me too—”

“Yeah, I know. Alden told me,” Liam said. “He also advised me not to bring it up in front of you unnecessarily, just in case you’re still sensitive about your family history. Guess you’re a lot tougher than he thought.”

“What’s the point?” Hazel replied bitterly. “I wasn’t of any help at all.”

“No, you were. I don’t know how you got hold of a gun imbued with Kitsune magic, but that helped loads against the Nekomata.”

The girl stared at Liam blankly.

“You didn’t know?” Liam said. “Kitsune magic is extremely potent and recognisable; even the Western Magus know about it. I’d ask you how you got acquainted with a Fox God, but you technically aren’t even a Magus. You probably just inherited from your family, didn’t you?”

“Acquainted with a Kitsune…” Hazel repeated in a breathy tone as revelation swelled rapidly in her mind like a balloon pumped up at a party.

“That’s it! Not everything is lost!” she exclaimed.

Liam frowned slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“We can bring Chester back to life with the help of a Kitsune. Death isn’t absolute in the world of magic!”

“But it comes at a hefty price. Forget it, Hazel. Just let it go,” Liam muttered, his voice rising in agitation. “C’mon, it’s painful to even think about it anymore. This is just like that bullshit where we discuss our answers after the exam, knowing damn well we can’t change them. Why are we even torturing ourselves trying to fix what’s already over? If only I was faster… If only I paid more attention… I could’ve saved him! But dammit, I didn’t!”

He closed his eyes painfully. “Don’t give me hope, please. Let’s just accept that Chester’s gone. This is the consequence of my incompetence, and I accept it.”

“Look, it’s easy to simply say it’s our fault and cry about it. But that doesn’t make it true, and it’s certainly not the end,” Hazel said. “No matter how you feel about it, you did nothing wrong. You may be able to ride clouds, throw fireballs, or turn things invisible. But you’re only human. We are only human. And humans fail all the time, but we don’t give up. Come on. We have a chance of success, even if it’s just a sliver of a fraction. Isn’t that worth fighting for? Isn’t it worth a try?”

The boy pursed his lips, breathing heavily. Hazel stood her ground with clenched fists. Tension simmered in the air.

And then Liam broke it with a soft exhale.

“Y’know, you’re a lot less timid than you normally act.” He smiled slightly. “Chester was like a brother to me, especially after I lost my whole family. You’re right. I owe it to him to try. So what’s your plan, Hazel?”

Hazel clasped her hands together, organising her thoughts. “Alright, you know I’m from the House of Adams, right? And you know how my House disappeared one day?”

“Yes, Alden told me that he was re-assigned to my House because of that,” Liam mused, putting a finger to his chin. “Nobody knows the details, though. Do you?”

Hazel nodded. “It’s a long story, but the important thing is that I died when I was six.”

“What?!”

“The only reason why I’m still here is because my parents took a favour from a Kitsune to bring me back from the dead,” the girl continued. “They did so by expending all their life force to keep the afterlife gates long enough for it to bring my soul back. I don’t intend to lose my life bringing Chester back, don’t worry. But if we have enough Magus, the load should be lesser on each of you. That way, no one else will need to sacrifice their lives needlessly.”

“That’s unheard of. The power to reverse death…” Liam breathed. “It’s a bold idea, but that plan would definitely work, magically speaking. Here’s the big question, though. Where are we going to find a Kitsune?”

“Back at the tent, I overheard Chester’s father talking about an eight-tailed Kitsune they still had locked up in its container. If we get its help, we can do the same for Chester.”

“Get its help?” Liam said with enough scepticism to convince a television medium to give up the gig. “You mean convince it? With words?”

“With emotion.” Hazel nodded firmly. “One of a Kitsune’s traits is empathy. It takes on the emotions of people close to it. I believe it’ll be able to sense our sincerity to save our friend.”

“Never really was one for the power of friendship. The power of magic and violence is where it’s at, speaking from experience.” Liam shrugged. “But I suppose this is the best we can do. We have nothing to lose, anyway. I’m in.”

“Fantastic!” Hazel pumped her fists enthusiastically. “Let’s head to the tent now.”