Toy Soldiers

One crisis averted.

I was still on edge as I walked through this crazy rich Asian version of real life.

A culture of the most opportunistic, some of the most intelligent, and most deeply religious people in the world coming together in the same place.

Fast forward many years with a whole lot of money and a melting pot of cultures and…

Well, you get it.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

To sin.

Trading debauchery like tokens. Masquerading it all in this opulent version of fake nobility.

I watched them as I moved through this decadent palace of flavors and excess. Watched them eating some of the most supple dishes money could buy. Sampling both the simple and the complex. A riot of flavors freshly sliced from the pork barns outside.

Chefs prepared to make you anything on any of four different menus. Why? Because they were clones. Slaves trained to do one thing and one thing well.

Their entire bushido was making one dish. Taking advantage of our desperate want to be useful and turning it into a simple luxury.

Literally having their every dumb desire fulfilled by somebody who had nothing.

It sickened me.

And I watched each perfect plate come out on a server’s tray. Watching clone eyes light up under bands of black light.

Green, blue, green, blue, green, blue… repurposed, beautiful war machines stuck in a life they didn’t choose. Because if it wasn’t for their beautiful face or perfect body, they’d be toast. Last shift at work.

Each and every one of them casting looks at me that made sense now as I passed.

My beautiful amber eyes flashing off and on under bands of blacklight. My confident stride as my rare eyes looked them in their more common eyes. My rare beauty beyond their exceptional beauty.

And I was a free clone. Moving without restraint. No collar.

That explained Vincent’s instant engagement.

It explained the way every clone eye went from fake-happy to impotent rage looking at me.

I was everything they weren’t.

And everyone knew I belonged to the Oyabun.

They hated me.

And it wasn’t a good feeling. It was pressure-claws around my collarless throat.

If I didn’t perform… if I didn’t give Dvar what he wanted…

The Silence would at worst kill me. At best? Send me out into the world to eat everyone’s hatred without protection.

I was truly, utterly fucked. The only way out was through.

And I’d better be the best marionette in the play…

Like every other clone here was trying to do. Trying to survive.

Stuck playing the game. Left, right, left…

Like toy soldiers.

I was a pretty thing. A feminine keepsake in the opulent feminine side of the world now. Away from the brutality here in this place of wealth. This extension of Sunless on Thread.

A dark moon casting a dark, beautiful shadow dripping over this district of Thread.

A thick miasma of strangling, twinkling beauty.

And the further out from this decadent sore on the city you got, the harder and more masculine the world became. Where losers like me came from.

A pretty face living on the wrong side of the ownership triangle. Owner to seller to product.

And to think, this was just a god damn meat house. Where they keep meat.

Say that with a straight face, right?

Fuckers were sitting around marveling in the fact that they could eat whatever they wanted while some people weren’t eating at all.

It honestly made me want to cry…

The cruel part about it was I couldn’t.

I had to walk around looking at the opposite end of my bell curve and wonder what it must have been like to grow up with all of this…

And not care that someone else grew up with none of it.

The reality of knowing someone else had these memories.

But all I had was my memories.

That would never change.

And it wasn’t fair.

Damn.

And I became aware of it on Dvar’s terms; not my own. Forever locked out of heaven—stuck knowing it exists.

That’s real life.

I respected it now, walking among manufactured perfection, looking for a place to choke down a meal.

I found my way to a dinner place. I just wanted some place quiet to blend in.

My senses were already overrun with smells and sounds. With people and perfume. With the tittering sound of laughter as people necked in the corners or exchanged stories on the conversation floor.

The place I found had a casual sign above it.

I smiled the moment I recognized it.

“Oda’s Hindu Ramen!” I said, almost too excited as my eyes tick-tocked around what, to me, was a heaven I could understand.

It was a quiet shop. No one was around. No one in line. Maybe the food wasn’t upscale enough for the ritzy crew? Who knew. I didn’t care. I loved the sight of its Indo-Japanese tables, the kitschy mandala chairs.

I smiled at the statue of a lucky dragon swirling in the middle of the restaurant as I walked towards it, making my way into the wide open restaurant.

It looked fairly empty. I slowed to a casual, easy pace. Remembering to mask my excitement. Trying not to let my eyes light up too much at the smells hitting my nose.

There was one other patron. A lady, sitting at a table by herself. She was wearing a black and gold kimono-dress suit situation. It was elegant. Professional, but elegant. Through my Third-Eye she was glimmering softly like a golden god.

She felt warm. Comfortable.

She reminded me of what NORA would look like. A smart, mature woman who still had a youthful flirt in her wise eyes.

I slipped over there and had a seat.

Every other place I’d passed by, people were sitting together. I just figured I should blend in.

She didn’t seem bothered.

“Hi…” I said, without making eye contact.

She seemed intrigued.

She was older, but beautiful.

Older clone beautiful, I noticed, when I finally looked up at her.

Blue eyes glowing under the blacklight in the restaurant.

That meant mine were too.

I looked at her business suit, then up to her blue eyes.

Big girl. In a lot of ways. But shapely. Strong…

Like fit, strong. Not bulky, just … she worked out.

“Are you done?” She asked.

“With?”

“Assessing me…?” She offered, her tone unsure.

“Hn? Oh, no,” I smiled, “I was just noticing you.”

“Noticing me?” She squinted, sitting upright in her seat, “And what did you notice?”

“Safe answer or the actual answer?”

“Both,” She answered evenly.

I nodded, “Okay. You’re very strong.”

“And the actual answer?” She asked, smiling.

“You got really big titties,” I said without hesitation.

We both cracked up laughing. Though in fairness, she had a far more dignified laugh than me.

“I did ask for the truth. Is that what I received?”

“I mean don’t get me wrong,” I said, “I was agnostically noticing your titties. I’m actually kinda starting to think I like dudes…? That’s a whole situation…” I squinted, “Why am I telling you this?”

“I have that effect on people,” she nodded, leaning forward and patting my hand on the table.

I nodded. “I guess so. I’m Uno. Kelevra,” I said, that name sounding weird in my mouth.

“Lady Poison.”

“Lady- I’m sorry what?” I blinked rapidly and stared at her.

“Lady. Poison. Of the three clans of Sunless. This is my reserved restaurant for the hour.”

That’s when the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

Air quit working.

I sat at the table of a ninja clan member? With the distinction of Lady?

I started to pay more attention to her.

And her pale skin.

And that she said three clans. Not two.

“I’m pretty sure that what you said means a lot somewhere. I don’t want to downplay that… like, at all… I just… can we just—if I did something stupid here… Can we just be cool about it? It would really mean a lot to me if you were just cool with that. Please.” I said nervously swallowing, my pretty eyes pleading with her.

Undignified? Yes.

Best shot in my bag? Yes.

Pretty Privilege. Please save me.

She seemed like she was in ecstasy enjoying my desperation. Her face was delighted. In that subtle way a woman of nobility would be.

“Mm… I’ll make a deal with you,” she flirted the words out. Then let her tongue slide from her mouth to tease at one of her canines.

They elongated with the slowness of my eyes widening.

Oh shit.

She wanted my blood?!

“Your name is Lady Poison,” I swallowed again, “I’m guessing this is gonna suck.”

My blood.

“No… I don’t feel like being cruel. And I came here for food. Not drink,” her fangs shrank again, “I want to win the game fairly, you see. You may call me, Lakshmi Nobunaga. Of the Nobunaga Clan.”

“Motherfuck me sideways.”

That’s what came out of my mouth in my head.

In reality.

After I realized all the many layers of things Dvar never fucking told me.

I took a moment to assess just how much shit I’d gotten my feet firmly planted into.

Lakshmi Olmedo was sitting in front of me in all of her venomous beauty.

And not only was she a Syndicate leader of the only member of the Chaebol still remaining who refused to be one with the Naga Gita…

It was because she was a clone. Who married into a clan of vampire ninja clones.

Sweet.

Fucking. Sweet.

I just swallowed and said, “Well, yeah… that’s about how my day was going… that makes a lot of sense,” I nodded, my mood suddenly dry, “That’s…uh… that’s really on brand for me.” I bit my lip, my eyes retreating from her.

She was smiling wickedly when I looked back.

Right before someone else joined us.

A gold eyed girl with bright blue hair in pigtails on her head.

Her hair had black stripes in it. The wrong way.

And her gold eyes slowly started to glow orange.

Like mine.

Well this shit just keeps getting better and better.

Everything about her looked like a live action cosplay. The way her neon lit up under my Third Eye made her seem hyper real.

But she had an edge.

She looked like one of those really sweet girls that used to be a real sweetheart.

Only she was the after.

After hell.

She had Yakuza tattoos up her arms, inky black lipstick, a vest on over a sports top.

She was a slim little hard-bodied cutie, dressed like a goth Yakuza thug.

With a rack.

Not big. But a rack.

Slacks, sneakers, and a rack.

And a deep. Seething. Hate on…

For me.

Because her gold eyes looked like they wanted to project razor blades at my face.

“Well. You’re here in time to meet Two-Three. Dos Tres Kelevra…”

“Dos Tres…” I repeated, looking at the hate filled little woman across the table from me.

That wasn’t the filing clerk I used to know. I almost didn’t recognize her.

Then she greeted me.

Exactly like a pissed off Yakuza Murder Clone would greet me.

“I’mmonna fuck you up,” she declared with the finality of the angel of death.

She had a boyish voice. But it was deadly serious. So was her face.

Face like that? She’s had long talks with the devil.

I nodded slowly, honestly kinda weirded out by her glare.

“Two-Three,” Lakshmi corrected her with that soft tone.

“That’s… That’s good to know. Listen, I’m gonna… just…” I started to work myself out of my seat.

“Ah-ah…” Lakshmi tut-tutted, “Stay. Please. For dinner.”

Jesus tits fuck christ.

“… Y… yeah…” I said, sliding back down into my seat.

Dvar was gonna kick the shit out of me.

I took a steady breath, accepting this timeline I had surfed my way onto, and looked at Lakshmi.

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“I could eat,” I nodded.

Hey… guess I should get a last meal in.

Since I’m dead anyway.

“Two-Three?”

“Yeah, mom…?” She was still dead pan. Angry.

“Play nice for mommy.”

Two-Three’s eye twitched as she glared at me, her tongue sliding over … her right fucking fang as they extended.

Like she saw me as a warm drink of blood instead of a person.

Rolled her eyes, and straightened up.

Her entire demeanor changed.

I watched her third eye throb from her forehead tension before her face settled. Beautifully.

“Hey, Uno. Glad you could make it for dinner. Brother of mine.” she said like a perfect little Indo-Japanese daughter should. Ms. Two-Three Nobunaga.

Dos Tres Kelevra.

Her eyes exactly like mine, only far more Asiatic in shape.

And her smile was dominated by symmetrical, doll-like carnivore’s fangs.

She was that rare kind of cute-beautiful Indo-Japan spawned after full on cultural collapse.

A light cinnamon doll-face.

Just like mine.

I glanced down at the black rings on her middle fingers.

She was a Dharma Yog.

If the rings didn’t convince me, the wooden bracelets she wore did.

Eyes back up, I watched her retract her fangs.

Unsettled.

Even with her hardware put away, I could still see tiny little points in her beautiful smile.

Exaggerated canines like her owner. Lakshmi.

Figures Dvar’s daughter would be a free clone.

How the hell did Lakshmi have rights?

All I could do was stare at Two-Three… realizing I was dealing with someone as twisted as Dvar after witnessing the horror of that beautiful smile on her face.

She was a barely legal murder doll.

Pretty as a picture.

Hemavore through and through.

Two-Three Bad Dogs.

Yeah… Dangerous as Two-Three rabid bitches.

Clever, Lakshmi.

She trained her dog to hate her own kind.

How?

I. Don’t. Know.

But somehow, as I turned my attention to Lakshmi Nobunaga with horror, I realized this woman made my own flesh and blood want to tear me apart.

Whatever she did to that girl… looking back over at that sweet smile I could tell it wasn’t good.

I was looking at damaged goods.

The mirror of what I could have been if someone worse than Dvar bought me.

Staring at Lakshmi, the weight of her cruelty was palpable without words. It was painted all over Two-Three’s smile when I looked back at it.

Like a bloody car wreck I couldn’t turn my eyes away from.

Goddamnit she could smile so sweetly.

For a split second, I almost could believe she really was my little eighteen-year-old sister.

Lakshmi created the devil…

An actual. Vampire. Ninja. Devil.

“Thank you… for having me,” I said, staring at Two-Three.

My eyes ticked right, out at the traffic outside of the restaurant. Then to her…

Then over to Lakshmi.

I needed air.

But I had to play the game.

Goddamnit.

I took a deep breath and sat up straight.

“So where did the Lady Poison title come from?”

“Apart from my sprawling Pork Estate… I also maintain control of a little moon you might have heard of… called Sunless.”

“Oh, yeah… I think your brother mentioned it was run by two clans or something.”

“Three… now… I had to step in to settle age old chaos.”

I looked over at Two-Three.

Her eye twitched again.

She tightened her jaw, then went back to seeming chipper.

“Lady Poison used her immense power and wealth to… settle our family dispute for us. During a time of… great difficulty,” the murder clone said. Her tone fawning.

It was gross.

“Dos? Is it? Like Dos Tres?” She nodded, “… Can I call you Dose?” I asked, changing it from the Spanish inflection to the word of measurement.

“I prefer it… Dose. Is.. my name,” She said tightly. Unable to hide irritation, “But I don’t mind Two-Three. That’s my…”

“I know,” I cut her off. “I’m-…”

“01Delta… I’m aware,” she said sharply.

I stopped poking at that wound.

“Your hair’s cool.”

She bristled for a moment. More like she was blindsided, blinked, and did that thing I do when the mask cracks.

Her eyes tick-tocked around, then snapped back to me.

“Thank you,” she said slowly.

It read confused.

I didn’t know what to say back to that.

Thank God the waiter saved my fucking life.

“Madam Nobunaga, I didn’t know you’d have guests. I’ll prep for two more.”

“Thank you, Kabir,” she said as she should. Divinely. Like a corporate temple maiden.

“I can still take your orders now though if you’re ready.

“I am,” She said. Which meant we all were.

“We’ll have butter chicken, basmati rice and…” She squinted at me as my face lit up, her eyes playful. “Aaaand, Hakata style, Tonkotsu ramen,” She nodded.

My heart skipped a beat.

“I take back anything bad I’ll ever have to say about you from this day forward.”

She smiled and let out a little laugh.

“Liar,” God damn she was charming.

She had cool mom energy.

I grinned and relaxed a bit, appreciating her coolness about my mistake crashing her dinner.

“No hard feelings me crowding your spot?” I asked, lip curling nervously.

“Yet to be seen,” She said cryptically, looking over to her left, “Mm…” at Dose.

The blue haired girl who had a look on her face the entire time that was half-hate half-fake smile.

She noticed me looking at her and prettied up her fake smile into something genuinely…

hauntingly…

authentic.

I was never more terrified to see a smile in my life.

I was about to have the meal from heaven at a table in hell.

“Is this your first time eating here? At Mookie’s Hotpot Ranch?” Dose asked me.

And the weirdest thing in my life happened then.

She stomached it.

Ate it all. Hard.

I could feel it. But not in an unsettling way.

She had learned to mask so deeply that I genuinely felt alright with her.

Like we were suddenly cool.

A level of mastery in this fake world I’d never possess.

And she talked to me like a human.

She looked engaged when I opened my mouth to speak.

“No… I’ve never eaten here. Is it good?”

“It’s so good,” she added emphasis on her words, coming alive. “The first time mom brought me here was… I dunno, maybe… two years ago? Might have been three. She adopted me from Meridian.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, as naan bread arrived at the table with a series of sauces to dip it in.

“I remember you from Meridian. You kept coming to work though.”

“Well… I disappeared for the first couple years. I get it, time kinda blends together for us,” she said, tearing a piece of her bread free while I did the same.

“Yeah… I’m like 78 and I still feel like a fuckin’ kid.”

She nodded, “Same. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing most days.”

Lakshmi let us talk. Let us dip naan bread, laugh about clone humor. We had a real moment…

I actually felt like I had a real sister. It was so cool.

And Lakshmi was just there. Quietly. Like a mom watching a play date.

I knew Dose wasn’t on my side. But I didn’t care.

I just enjoyed being normal.

And I kinda felt like she did too.

Even if she hated me.

“How about you? When did you get picked?”

“Not really sure… y’know… the memory thing.” I said, “I think I was like… the end of a whole lot of picks. Y’know?”

“I get that… Guess I got kinda lucky there. I actually got to grow up,” she nodded, “Mine was a long time ago… I kinda just remember training with Mido Khan. Then I was a filing clerk.”

That thought struck me as odd. Surely he didn’t train every ghost, right?

How’d he have time? How did she grow up and train with Mido Khan in… what, seventy? Eighty years? Technically she was younger than me so… less?

Unless…

The sickening thought hit me, but I swallowed it down as she spoke.

The fact that we had all been spoon-fed the same training script…

While we all actually got our own beatings.

“How’d that go? Filing.”

“Honestly? I really, really liked it… Something felt really fun about it. Making sense and order out of chaos. Being useful, I guess?” She said, and her eyes really lit up talking about it.

It was weird seeing this tattooed Yakuza babe nerd out about clerking files.

I noticed her rose-tinted shades hanging from her vest pocket.

My attention moved back over to Lakshmi who was still calmly watching me.

Studying my face.

“Pretty Boy, your face really is striking.”

It was only then that I realized it.

I didn’t find Dose attractive at all.

Because she looked like my sister.

Then I remembered what Dvar said about his daughter, Lakshmi.

She wanted another me.

Suddenly I recognized the look in Dose’s eyes.

The look of a woman who had been someone’s pain toy for decades.

She was my sister. My actual sister.

Perverted into the thing Lakshmi wanted most.

Myself…

In this Wild Petal jacket. Perverted into the thing Dvar wanted most.

Both of us pretty little broken toy soldiers.

And I had to pretend I didn't care.

I blinked my eyes away from Dose to look at the monster of a monster.

Lakshmi.