"What are you two doing at my place?" Aokiji asked, looking up. "Finished your discussion?"
"More or less," Tatsumaki said evasively.
She landed gently on the ground with Fubuki.
Fubuki had changed into a new outfit; the previous one had been torn during the fight.
The new set looked more like everyday loungewear.
"My sister and I talked a lot. At first we disagreed on plenty, but following your advice—'meet each other halfway'—we managed some agreements."
Fubuki finally relaxed enough to show her usual confidence in front of Tatsumaki.
"My sister won't interfere with my hero career or restrict where I go."
"The conditions are: I must never refuse contact, always put my safety first, call her the moment there's danger, stay home if my power stops improving for too long, and hole up after any fight I can't win… until I get stronger."
Fubuki rattled off the long list in one breath.
To secure even the most basic freedom, she'd clearly agreed to plenty.
"Well, that's about it," Tatsumaki said, sounding only half-pleased.
Aokiji glanced at them both, still baffled.
"Since you've sorted things out, why not go home for a reunion dinner, trade sisterly secrets, take a bath together, then share a bed and greet the new day?"
"What are you doing here?"
Tatsumaki turned her head away, clearly not intending to answer.
Fubuki had to speak up.
"Because… one of the promises I made was to keep improving…"
"My sister… really isn't good at teaching."
Tatsumaki hunched her shoulders, uncomfortable, but didn't deny it.
She honestly didn't see what needed teaching.
All the tricks other Espers spent years refining were nothing more than inborn knacks for her.
Apart from technique,
Psychic Power's strength and capacity were fixed at Awakening—decided by talent.
Improvement came only through meditation-style Cultivation,
or… through body modification and Monsterization—crooked paths.
Tatsumaki would never let Fubuki near those.
So they were stuck.
She wanted to teach technique,
but couldn't.
How do you explain something you've always known?
It's like raising your hand.
People do it without a conscious thought; it just happens.
No one thinks about
which muscles to contract, joint angles, or nerve signals.
Talent's gap is brutal.
Fubuki needed to understand the process to master it.
Tatsumaki simply could; the process was irrelevant.
Technique couldn't be passed on.
Psychic Power itself, apart from talent, only responded to grinding.
Tatsumaki still couldn't help.
Psychic Power
isn't Qi or Internal Strength;
you can't shout "This is my last Esper blast—take it, Fubuki!" and hand it over.
"Got it," Aokiji concluded.
"You still want me to teach you."
Fubuki nodded earnestly.
Tatsumaki folded her arms and declared haughtily,
"Just so we're clear, it's not that you're better—just… I'm busy and don't have time!"
"Let me be clear too."
Aokiji reached out, grabbed the backs of their collars, and hoisted them up.
Despite the height gap between the sisters,
they both dangled well off the ground in front of him.
Tatsumaki and Fubuki were too stunned to react.
Never in their lives had anyone lifted them like naughty kids.
Their brains short-circuited.
Aokiji carried the bewildered pair outside.
Their outfits were nearly identical—skin-tight.
Hoisted by the collar, their curves pressed against the fabric, slim frames accentuated.
He deposited them outside the villa gate.
"I never agreed to teach, and I'm no good at it. Bye."
With that, he shut the door.
A long moment passed.
Finally recovering, Fubuki's face flushed as she smoothed her crumpled clothes.
It pinched… She peeked sideways at her sister.
Surely Tatsumaki would be furious—huh? She looked… dazed.
Tatsumaki asked, rare uncertainty in her voice, "Fubuki, what did that guy mean?"
"He… refused to teach me, I guess," Fubuki said, deflated.
"No." Tatsumaki clenched her fist. "I mean grabbing us like that—what did that mean?"
"A joke, just a joke between friends!" Fubuki blurted, desperate to calm her.
Tatsumaki tapped her cheek, musing aloud, "Friend… joke… He thinks we're friends? Friends act that obnoxiously? And with a girl…"
Fubuki tried to explain: "Friends relax around each other; they're not after something."
"He'd do that to a female friend?" Tatsumaki frowned.
"Usually people keep a bit of distance," Fubuki admitted.
She had few real friends herself, but drew on what she'd seen.
"So normal opposite-sex friends wouldn't do that."
"Right…"
Fubuki felt something off.
Tatsumaki's reaction was odd.
Normally she'd have exploded with Esper power by now.
Instead her expression was complicated—what was she imagining?
"If it's not something ordinary friends do, then…"
Tatsumaki's face flickered through pride, irritation, certainty—"He has special feelings for both of us?!"
"Sis, what are you saying?!"
How did you jump to that conclusion?!
Fubuki's vision dimmed; she clapped a hand over Tatsumaki's mouth.
"That's totally wrong!"
Tatsumaki pulled the hand away. "Why wrong?"
"If he felt something special, he wouldn't have thrown us out!"
"Perfectly normal," Tatsumaki shrugged.
"He was about to Cultivate; interrupt me during battle and I'd toss you too. No conflict."
Fubuki was speechless at the twisted logic.
At last she weakly said, "Let's head home; I'll explain on the way."
"No!"
Tatsumaki's eyes sparkled with mischief.
With her petite frame she looked like a cheeky little fox.
"That guy keeps provoking me; now I've got leverage—I'm going to mess with him!"
Fubuki covered her face, mortified.
She only hoped that when Aokiji learned of the misunderstanding,
he wouldn't laugh too hard.
...
(Throw some stones)