The silence in the kitchen was the heavy kind, the kind that lingers after you've said too much and don't know what to do with what was said. My breakfast was still in front of me, barely touched. The bread had gone cold, and the coffee was lukewarm, but I didn't mind. My attention was elsewhere.
On them.
Rory ate as if there were no tomorrow, or as if every bite were a small revenge against the world. The way she drank her coffee—that instant coffee she liked so much—was like a Viking after a battle: enthusiastically, eagerly, with zero manners. Next to her, Tamamo was the complete opposite. She nibbled on her piece of bread with a borrowed delicacy, her movements measured, almost mechanical, as if her body were still a little foreign to her.
But her golden eyes weren't on the food. They were somewhere in the middle, thinking. Processing.
I wasn't doing any better.
My hand moved from the plate to the cup and back to the plate, not really hungry, just from the impulse to do something. My mind was still stuck on Rory's confession, on that night I had wanted to forget, on the edge of the rooftop, on Tamamo's words that had brought me back to life without her knowing it. How did you continue after something like that? How did you talk about normal things after putting someone's suicide attempt on the table?
Was it fair to leave that burden on her?
Thank God—or the goddesses now having breakfast in my kitchen—it was Tamamo who broke the silence.
She set her cup down on the table with a small, dry thud and turned to Rory. There was no more shyness in her posture. There was curiosity. That feline curiosity I knew so well from the game, that tilt of the head and that gleam in the eyes that meant she was analyzing something, the anime girl with a new adventure.
"Well, I can say without a doubt that having breakfast with a giant is an experience," she laughed nervously.
"........."
"Hey, Rory."
"Hmm?" The self-proclaimed goddess of refined manners looked up from her feast with her cheeks puffed out with food like a squirrel.
"You said you've been alive for a week, right?"
Rory chewed, swallowed, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
"I've been living here since Cesar moved in. I've been with him for years before that." She paused dramatically, pointing at me with her tiny thumb.
"If you mean this moving around and being alive thing, yes, one week."
Tamamo nodded slowly.
"Well, yes, that's what I mean." Her fingers played with the edge of the cup, a nervous gesture I didn't remember seeing in her version of the game.
"By any chance... do you know what we are?"
Rory blinked.
"What, what we are?" She let out a small laugh.
"Well, anime figures, right? I think the size is obvious."
She pointed to herself, her twelve centimeters of gothic lolita with a monstrous Halberd. Then she pointed to Tamamo. Then to me, as if I were the living proof of the difference in scale.
But Tamamo shook her head.
"That's not what I mean. I mean..." She searched for words, her fingers drumming on the table.
"To clarify it further, if possible."
"Clarify what, exactly?"
Tamamo took a breath.
"Well, then... if we are anime figures who know the past of their series and believe we are goddesses." She paused. Her blue eyes locked onto Rory.
"Or if we really are those goddesses, and we are simply using these figures to interact with this world."
Rory set her piece of bread down on the table. For the first time all breakfast, she seemed genuinely interested in something other than eating.
"Oh. I get it." She crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in concentration that I had seen before, when she was plotting something.
"That's... a good question."
"Any ideas?"
"Well..." Rory raised a hand, looking at it from front and back as if she expected to see something new on it.
"I don't know. I feel pretty goddess-like, I think." She clenched her fist firmly.
"I'd never thought about that other option before."
She shrugged, a gesture as small as she was but loaded with absolute certainty.
"But the truth is, I really don't care. It doesn't change anything."
"No?" Tamamo tilted her head.
"No." Rory pointed at me, again with her thumb, as if I were a piece of furniture that happened to be there.
"I'm here to be with him. Goddess or not, I'm going to stay here. I'm going to stay by his side. I'm going to keep being a nuisance." Her smile twisted into that mischievous grimace that already gave me chills.
"Hehehehe"
"That's not going to change even if they tell me I'm a rag doll or the girl with the biggest case of dissociation known on this planet."
"Sorry," Tamamo hurried to say.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. It was just genuine curiosity."
Her tone changed. She leaned forward, her hands now clasped on the table, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of the Tamamo I knew from the game: the strategist, the analyst, the one who always looked for a solution even when there seemed to be none.
"Don't you think... if we are the version where we are goddesses, it would be better?" Her voice sped up a little.
"It would mean there's a way we can become full-sized again. That would help us so much! We could protect him better, we could..."
She stopped when she saw Rory's expression.
"What?"
"Well..." Rory scratched the back of her neck with that lack of manners that only a war goddess could afford.
"I get that it would have its benefits, no doubt."
"But?"
"But also... I don't want to be big." She raised a hand before Tamamo could protest.
"We shouldn't be. At least not right now."
Even I was surprised.
"Huh? You don't want to be big, Rory?"
She looked at me with that expression of "do I really have to explain it?" that she had perfected with me in just one week.
"Don't get me wrong. I know it would be great and all that." She stood up on the table, walking to the center like a general addressing her troops.
"Imagine: Rory Gremory, goddess of war and death from her anime Crimson Covenant no less, in her full size! Enemies would tremble! Armies would fall! I could crush whoever I wanted!"
She paused. Her voice lowered, losing the theatricality.
"But this isn't the best time."
"Why not?"
Rory sighed. She turned to Tamamo.
"Tamamo. You arrived yesterday. Have you seen anything of Cesar's life?"
Tamamo looked at me. I looked away towards my plate.
"A little," she said cautiously.
"Have you seen how much he earns? Have you seen the size of this apartment? Have you seen that he barely manages to support the two of us, and that's because we're small?" Rory gestured, her tone increasingly intense.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
"We're two twelve-centimeter goddesses, and he already eats less than a sparrow. Can you imagine if we were full-sized? How much would we eat? Where would we sleep? What clothes would we wear?"
"Do you think Japanese royal goddess kimonos are cheap on this side of the planet? Just look at my clothes; this very thing, this thing was expensive in the Victorian era when it was easy to get, and even then, look at the sexualized details they added in the anime; they would have to be handmade by a tailor. Gothic Victorian lolita clothes aren't cheap; they cost a fortune."
"What I'm wearing was designer clothes; an anime artist spent months deciding the height of my miniskirt so it would be sexual enough without getting the series cancelled. My boots and stockings took a group of about 15 people and four meetings."
"I know because I watched my documentary, and I also saw how I look on the novel cover and that I'm wearing totally different clothes.This was made new for the anime."
"The only time Cesar paid a designer was for an artist to draw the protagonist of his novel to have an eye-catching cover, and even then he had to beg for a discount, or we wouldn't make it to Christmas alive."
"Well, maybe I could lend you my clothes," I suggested- big mistake.
Rory immediately spun around with fury, at the same novel with a face of total disgust.
"The last thing I'm going to wear is your clothes. Do you think I don't know the disasters you've done with them?"
"With how often you wash them? That mustard stain on that shirt is over two months old, the last time you had the money to buy a couple of hamburgers."
"They're from two weeks ago..."
"Two months!"
"And unless you have beautiful lolita girl clothes, I'm not borrowing your clothes."
"Get them without ending up homeless, and then we'll talk about sharing a wardrobe."
Tamamo opened her mouth.
She closed her mouth.
"Oh," she said, as if the word explained everything.
"Exactly." Rory nodded with the satisfaction of someone who has won a debate.
"Cesar is in a very tight spot. He barely survives. If suddenly two full-sized goddesses appeared, with full-sized needs... he'd die. Not from excitement, but from hunger. And bankruptcy."
"That was... very pragmatic, Rory."
"I'm a goddess. Pragmatism is a requirement." She crossed her arms.
"Besides, I don't want to rush anything. I take it step by step. First, make sure this idiot survives. Second, make sure we survive. Third, torture him a little." She shot me a smile.
"And then, much later, maybe we talk about sizes."
Tamamo was quiet for a moment. Then, very slowly, she smiled.
"Understood."
"Understood?"
"Understood. I'll take it step by step with you. I won't rush." Her smile twisted a little.
"Although I must say, Rory... you talk a lot about torturing him, but everything you've said is to protect him."
Rory stiffened.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course not."
"I'm here to annoy him. It's my vocation."
"Unfortunately, she's good at it, just look at her size and the proportion she annoys."
"What did you say, you damn brat! You're nothing but a mosquito compared to me! I'm a thousand years old, a Goddess!"
"An odious one, you mean! Besides, are you sure you're a thousand years old? You look like you're only 12."
"Oh, now I'm really going to kill you!" Said Rory angrily, launching herself at full speed against my fingers and biting one of them hard.
"Ahhh, you damn rat!"
And then, without warning, Tamamo let out a small laugh.
Rory and I stopped dead; the goddess of war smiled back; it seemed her shadowy plan had worked.
"And since we're talking about taking it step by step..." Rory turned to Tamamo with a highly feigned innocent face.
"When do you plan to stop acting so surprised and scared?"
Tamamo blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm serious." Rory put her hands on her hips.
"You've had that 'everything is new and terrifying' face since you woke up. And yes, I understand it's a lot to process. But this isn't you."
"Oh, no?"
"What do you think I'm like?"
"No." Rory pointed an accusatory finger at her.
"I've seen the giant there licking your boots too much to have a pretty good idea."
"Tamamo-no-Mae, the evil Moon goddess, the nine-tailed fox."
"The one who deceived emperors. The one who massacred armies when she got bored."
"If we follow anime stereotypes, you would be what they call a Trickster, right?"
"The evil goddess who learned to be good." She tilted her head.
"Playful, cheerful, detestably kind and friendly with everyone, but who hides a terrifying cold-blooded manipulator who only shares her most intimate privacy and real personality with her beloved."
"We've seen enough of the cold, melancholic manipulator, but where's the other cheerful half? The one who sold that big child there the idea of continuing to live?"
"Where is that Tamamo?"
Tamamo was silent for a moment. Then, very slowly, a different smile appeared on her lips. It wasn't the shy smile from before. It was something sharper.
"Well"
"I was too busy having an existential crisis over my own death. But I guess I can try to have a more laid-back life."
"That's the attitude."
"After all," Tamamo continued, and now there was a glint of amusement in her blue eyes,
"If I'm going to be trapped in a twelve-centimeter body, I'd better learn to enjoy it."
"Exactly!" Rory raised her cup as if toasting.
"Welcome to the Pocket Goddess Harem Club."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Pocket goddesses?"
"It's a technical term," Rory said without flinching.
"It is not."
"It is now. I just invented it."
Breakfast continued with a lighter atmosphere. Little by little, Tamamo began to release that personality I knew from the game: the sharp curiosity, the quick intelligence, the subtle humor. There was still some caution in her movements, but it was no longer the paralysis of shock. It was more like... adaptation.
"I have another question," Tamamo said after a sip of coffee. Her expression had turned thoughtful again, but not in the tense way from before. More like someone putting together a puzzle.
"Go ahead," I said, grateful that the conversation was staying on non-traumatic ground.
"All this technology..." She made a vague gesture with her hand, encompassing the kitchen, the apartment, the world.
"It's very primitive."
Rory laughed out loud.
"Primitive?"
"Compared to the space era I come from, yes." Tamamo frowned.
"In Star Fantasy we had starships. Interplanetary travel. Instant communication across solar systems, print for weapons or food. And this..." She pointed to my phone on the table.
"This is... a communication tablet?"
"A phone," I said.
"A phone," she repeated.
"With invisible wires."
"Radio waves."
"Radio waves." She nodded, as if filing away the information.
"Primitive. But it has its charm."
"Charm?"
"Everything is more... tangible." She reached out a hand and touched the wooden surface of the table.
"In my time—well, in the game's time—almost everything was holographic. Real textures were a luxury. Here, everything has texture. Everything has a smell. Everything is..."
"Real?" I suggested.
"Real," she confirmed.
"It's overwhelming. But it's also... pleasant."
I was quiet for a moment, processing what she had just said. Tamamo came from a world where reality was more advanced but less physical. Where textures were a luxury. And here she was, touching my kitchen table as if it were a precious object.
"If you want," I said before I could stop myself.
"We can go out for a walk."
Tamamo looked up at me.
"Go out?"
"Outside. The neighborhood. The park." I gestured vaguely towards the window.
"So you can see more things... real."
Her golden eyes sparkled.
"Can I?"
"I guess so." I got up, picking up the plates.
"But you have to go in the backpack. Like Rory. You can't let yourself be seen."
"I understand."
"And you can't make weird comments in public."
"I'll try."
"And if you get scared, let me know."
"I won't..."
"Tamamo."
She fell silent. Looked down.
"Okay," she said quietly.
"If I get scared, I'll let you know."
Rory smiled with satisfaction.
"Welcome to the club," she said.
"The club of goddesses who pretend to be anime figures in public. First rule: don't kill anyone. Unless they deserve it."
"Rory..."
"Second rule: Cesar carries everything. Literally."
"Rory."
"Third rule: if someone discovers us, the plan is to blame Cesar."
"Rory!"
She shrugged.
"It's a good plan."
Tamamo, to my surprise, let out a small laugh.
"I like this club," she said.
The preparation process was more elaborate than I expected.
Rory, as always, insisted on riding in the front pocket of the backpack, where she could peek out without being seen. But Tamamo was new to this. I had to teach her how to settle in, how to hold on if the bus stopped suddenly, how not to stick her head out too far.
"It's like an infiltration mission," Tamamo murmured from inside the backpack.
"Welcome to my life," Rory replied from her pocket.
"I've been an undercover agent for a week. It's in my blood."
"You're a goddess of war, not a spy."
"They're first cousins."
We left the apartment. The morning was cool, the sun just beginning to warm the streets. It was Sunday, so there wasn't the hustle and bustle of weekdays. Some people were walking dogs. Others were carrying grocery bags. An elderly woman was watering the plants on her balcony.
"Is that a dog?" Tamamo asked in a whisper, barely peeking out.
"A dachshund," I said quietly.
"They're long."
"It looks like a tube with legs."
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Fascinating."
We kept walking. We passed the bakery, and Tamamo asked about the smell. We passed an auto repair shop, and she asked about the metallic noises. We passed a mural painted on a wall, and she was quiet for half a minute.
"I've never seen colors like that," she finally said.
"Really?"
"In the game, everything was very... clean. Cities had defined color palettes. Everything fit. This..." She pointed to the mural, a chaos of blues, oranges, and greens depicting I don't know what.
"This is a mess. But it's a beautiful mess."
Rory poked her head out of her pocket.
"See? I told you it was worth it."