A common problem in card-flipping circles was card compatibility. As long as it was rigid enough to flip and undamaged, anything worked — big or small, round or square, even metal, paper, or plastic.
With such a broad range, the gameplay aside, the art styles printed on the cards might be completely inconsistent. For instance, the cards Yimi had won recently were all monsters mixed with SD-style Pokémon, but what she won today were even stranger: bootleg cards.
Thousand-Eyes Jellyfish. Clumsy Short Egg. Pot of Greed... Cards that should have been paper were printed on plastic stock. In Japan proper, this sort of thing would earn you a lawsuit.
Even the cat herself didn't like them — much less using them to trade with Yoshino-nee-chan for Reiryoku.
"Squeak squeak——"
The two large gray rats huddled shivering in the corner made their presence known. Since Origami had asked Yimi to mop the floor before she got back, she'd gone out and spent some time catching two mice to mop with — though the results hadn't been great.
The cat picked them up by their tails, leaned out the window, and peered down at the street ten-odd meters below to check for pedestrians, ready to benevolently release them.
"Host Advisory: throwing objects from height in a major city is highly unethical behavior. Even if there is no one below, this is not recommended."
Yimi nodded, quietly put the mice in a lunchbox, and carefully hid it under Origami's bed.
Then she turned her attention to the System portal. Energy had accumulated to roughly 150% — spending 20% would allow another draw. The cat wasn't great at arithmetic, but even she could calculate that, excluding what was needed for world-travel, she had enough for at least two pulls.
She counted on her fingers.
But if she drew something like last time's achievement notification — that was trading 20% for 5% back. Way too steep a loss.
"I'm home." Origami returned early — she'd only been at school for about twenty minutes.
With the afternoon basically free, and it being swim class on top of that, an early departure had been easy to arrange.
The girl rubbed her backside and looked down at the little girl now circling her three times left and three times right.
"Where's the fish?"
"Going to buy it now." Origami noticed that Yimi still looked just as grubby as before, and took her small hand.
Amid vigorous foot-dragging resistance, she hauled her toward the bathroom.
...
She'd never paid close attention before, but whether by coincidence or the First Spirit's whimsy, all the Spirits who had appeared so far seemed connected to numbers. Tohka Yatogami, Miku Izayoi, the Yamai Sisters, Kotori Itsuka, Yoshino, Kurumi Tokisaki...
Origami, who had always charged at Spirits on sight, was finally calming down enough to study patterns. Yimi's name had no connection to numbers in Japanese — but if you went back to the original Chinese characters, it was nearly homophonous with "one."
The number had nothing to do with power ranking; she wasn't sure how many Spirits there were in total, but following this pattern, she might be able to locate Spirits hiding among ordinary people.
On second thought, she realized the pattern was pointless — there was no reason for Spirits to hide near her or Shiori. But if there was ever an opportunity to pit a Spirit against a Spirit — for instance, if the one who had directly triggered her defenses could crack an opening in the First Spirit's defenses too...
One line of thought had already led this far. Keeping a Spirit around for research purposes was clearly very useful for her revenge.
"Weakling, weakling."
The nearby noise pulled Origami back to reality. She was currently using her free time to take Yimi shopping.
Helping her bathe and getting nothing but grief in return — every last "pervert" comment had come from her.
It was also through bathing Yimi that Origami had noticed the girl's entire wardrobe was apparently modeled on whatever passersby happened to be wearing. Since underwear was invisible from the outside, the result was that the little girl had none — not even socks. This was not acceptable.
"Weakling... mm... good fish."
Origami stuffed a lollipop in her mouth. Instant silence.
She led her by the hand to the women's underwear section at the shopping center. "Pick something you like."
Yimi stood on her tiptoes, grabbed a black semi-transparent style from the sale rack, and held it out. "This one."
She'd tried it last time she came here with that weakling Shiori — this one had the best elasticity. You could stretch it really far.
"That one won't work." Origami took it back without changing expression.
"Why?"
"It's inappropriate."
"But you have one in your drawer." The cat pointed at her nose accusingly.
"You're imagining things."
"No, I'm not."
"You're imagining things." Origami dragged her over to the children's section and stopped asking for input altogether, picking out several items she judged comfortable and dropping them into the basket.
It wasn't like anyone was going to see them anyway.
Although that tail is definitely going to be a problem — she'd have to make some modifications when they got home.
Origami also picked up a few hair ties.
"What kind of socks do you like?"
"Those ones." Yimi pointed to a pair of leopard-print stockings in the corner that absolutely no one would ever glance at twice.
"Understood." Origami walked straight past them and picked out a standard long pair for elementary school kids that would at least not clash with Yimi's current outfit.
The cat had figured it out — even when the big cat asked for the little cat's opinion, she wouldn't take it into account.
She let her face droop and hugged her own shoulders in a bunny-like pose, hoping Origami would notice her unhappiness and offer some comfort.
The girl paid her small sulk no attention whatsoever. After paying, she pushed Yimi straight into a fitting room, crouched down, and unpacked the newly bought socks. "Lift your foot."
Yimi obeyed.
"I didn't say step on me... watch, so you can do it yourself next time." Origami got the socks on her.
"Why do I have to wear these?"
"If you wear shoes without socks, your feet will smell."
"Kitty doesn't smell." The cat held up a paw.
"Is that right?" Origami sniffed the hand she'd just used to put on Yimi's socks.
Actually no smell at all. Even after that walk, which hadn't been short. Some Spirit peculiarity? How enviable.
She looked at the unopened children's underwear in her hand, mentally revising her approach, and informed the little cat, who lacked basic common sense: "From now on, this will be one of your most 'precious' possessions."
"Mew?" Yimi didn't follow.
"Please refer to [Basic Privacy Knowledge for Human Girls] for clarification," the System helpfully explained.
The cat thought about it. Privacy knowledge had told her that girls couldn't show boys their underwear.
The cat thought further. Between girls and girls, the taboo wasn't nearly as strict.
The non-freeloader had said this was something precious.
The little cat had a sudden epiphany and formulated a plan. "Give the underwear to Yoshino-nee-chan — trade it for Reiryoku."
"..."
Origami rapped her on the head.
She pulled her aside and, under the store clerk's expression of sympathetic amusement, delivered a lecture.