Daily Life of A Caretaker

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely a fanfic for enjoyment.

Cross-over from various games, books, anime, manga, and movies.

The familiar characters you see here belong to their respected authors and owners.

"Speech"

Arc 4: Experience the Story - Chapter 14

"Jin, I'm bored." Ruby whines from my back, squirming slightly as I give her a piggyback ride. "I thought there'd be something crazier after finding out about those students' class assignments, but nothing happened! It's already been, what, an hour or two?"

"Blame it on being so powerful that no one dares try anything against you." Octavia comments dryly, her tone almost apathetic. "There's a reason why most overpowered entities end up doing random stuff out of boredom. My mother, for instance, is easily bored and throws non-divorce parties regularly, just to stave it off most of the time."

"But...we're not that powerful." Weiss spoke up with a hint of caution. "I know Jin's strong enough to handle all of us put together; he could probably just think about it, and we'd all be done for. And yet, there are people out there even stronger than him. It terrifies me, honestly. Every morning when I wake up and don't see Jin nearby, I worry about what could happen."

With my free hand, I give Weiss a reassuring pat on the shoulder, using only my other arm to keep Ruby steady on my back.

"And why exactly did we leave those guys alive?" Octavia questions, raising an eyebrow as she stare at me.

In response, I shift my glance, first to Ruby on my back, then to Weiss standing beside me.

"I want to see who'll manage to survive among them, especially now that their class assignments are known among themselves." Ruby grins. "And besides, we're spreading madness. I want them to turn on each other, all that pent-up rage tearing them apart."

"Eh." Weiss shrugs, meeting Octavia's stare with a noncommittal look.

"But, why is she still tied up?" Octavia gestures pointedly with her index finger at Mayuko, who's been restrained yet again, mostly around her torso, her hands bound behind her back. A long rope extends from the knot, ending in Yuri's hand as she keeps a steady grip. "Wasn't the whole point earlier to show she couldn't escape or pose any threat to us? That was why she wasn't supposed to be tied up again, right?"

"Good questions." I look between Ruby and Weiss. "Well? Care to explain?"

The two exchange a glance, each seemingly waiting for the other to go first before Ruby finally shrugs with a mischievous grin. "She just looks good tied up."

This earns a snort from Yuri, who's holding the rope with an amused smirk.

"I thought it was for some kind of punishment or something." Weiss looks at Ruby in doubt. "Is that really it?"

Before Ruby can even open her mouth, the scene shifts abruptly. Everything—everyone around us, including Yuri and Mayuko—vanishes in an instant. We're back in the classroom, surrounded by familiar faces, both students and contractors, including those who had previously died. And standing before us, imposing and inscrutable, is Featherine.

Her gaze sweeps across the room, hard and unwavering, her presence infused with a noticeable aura of disappointment. She addresses us, her voice calm but cutting, each word precise and weighted.

"Children of man." Featherine begins, her tone frigid. "I have observed your attempts to grasp the Action Genre, and what I have witnessed is nothing short of abysmal. Were it not beneath me to feel shame on your behalf, I might even consider it. Alas, you have not earned the privilege of my pity. Failure of this magnitude is beyond you to comprehend."

She crosses her arms, a trace of disdain curving the edges of her mouth as she continues, her words sharp as knives. "In your misguided attempts, you have reduced the Action Genre to mindless violence, mere depictions of bloodshed without purpose or reason. Hear me well: Action is not a sequence of senseless killings or an endless parade of brutality. It is a genre grounded in conflict, yes, but with a foundation of story, intent, and consequence that gives those conflicts meaning."

Her voice grows sharper, each syllable resonating with severity. "Were it a mere slaughter feat I sought, I would teach you the Hack and Slash Genre, where such shallow spectacle might find its place. But the Action Genre demands more. It requires an understanding of motivation, a story behind every strike, and every conflict. Every battle is a clash of wills, a struggle driven by purpose and anchored in narrative. To reduce it to mere violence is to insult its essence."

Featherine narrows her gaze, her stare piercing as she surveys each of us with disappointment. "If you are to continue in my class, you will approach this genre with the respect it deserves. Should you fail to rise to this challenge, know that you have earned only my dismissal and the right to leave with whatever little dignity you may retain."

With that, she gives us one final withering look before turning her attention back to her notes, leaving us to think about her words.

A bold student rises from his seat—a figure resembling a veteran warrior with a greatsword strapped across his back. He frowns, his voice steady as he challenges Featherine.

"But some of us completed the assignments you gave us. Was our work incorrect?"

Featherine's gaze shifts slowly toward the student, an icy, amused smirk curling her lips. Her eyes glint with both intrigue and disdain as she addresses him.

"Oh? How... quaint." Her voice carried a dangerously condescending tone. "A lone child of man, daring to question me in the face of my displeasure, yet so hopelessly naive to the true nature of your failure."

She pauses, letting the silence stretch as her words settle over the class, each syllable heavy with scorn. "Let me clarify, for it seems you lack the insight to grasp what true accomplishment requires. Simply completing an assignment is far from embodying excellence. Merely putting pen to paper, typing words on a screen, or fulfilling the most basic of my instructions—this is not mastery. It is mediocrity."

Her eyes narrow, sharp, and unwavering. "Do you truly believe that sticking to the bare minimum—performing tasks without depth, without understanding, without even a trace of passion—deserves anything but my disdain? The work I have seen lacks nuance, purpose, and, most grievously, the very soul of the Action Genre. If you dare stand before me and insist that such insignificant submissions are worthy of praise, then I am more than disappointed; I am appalled by your failure to understand my instruction."

She lets out a cold, humorless chuckle, the sound chilling in its detachment. "Simply completing a task does not earn my approval. To gain even a sliver of it, you must rise above the ordinary, challenge the expected, and grasp the deeper truths I so generously offer. If you cannot achieve this... then perhaps your bravery is nothing more than foolishness wrapped in misplaced confidence."

She dismisses him with a flick of her gaze, turning back to address the entire class, her tone merciless. "If any of you harbor similar delusions, let this serve as a warning: in my presence, only the truly exceptional shall receive acknowledgment. The rest of you are but shadows, fleeting and forgettable."

In other words, cannon fodder characters serve little more than to add numbers, filling the backdrop of a scene where mere presence is required but true substance is lacking.

Featherine looks at everyone with an expression of cool detachment. Her gaze lingers, cutting through the class with a mixture of disdain and indifference. "It appears we have reached the end of today's... lesson. However, to call it such feels undeserved, given the lack of quality of your efforts. Let this day serve as a harsh reminder of the standards I hold and a prompt for you to reflect upon your... shortcomings. If you wish to remain in my presence, I suggest you strive much higher in the future." With a graceful wave of her hand, a faint light envelops her figure, and her form starts to fade from view. "Until next time, children of man. Strive to make yourselves worthy of my time—should you succeed, you may find the privilege of learning from me to be an experience that merits your efforts."

Without waiting for a response, Featherine disappears, leaving the room in a hushed silence.

"To the cafeteria!" Ruby shouts, tossing a Gold Ring and creating a portal in the center of the classroom.

Without a moment's hesitation, I scoop up Ruby, Weiss, and Octavia, making a quick dash through the portal.

To our surprise, judging by Ruby and Weiss's wide-eyed looks, we find we're not the first to arrive.

"Huh, you guys got here early. Class ended already?" Bayonetta asks, giving us a curious look as she sits across from Namine, both of them casually enjoying random cafeteria food.

"I honestly forgot you two were even here..." I mutter, earning a playful eye roll from Bayonetta.

"Hurtful." Bayonetta says with a smirk. "But I suppose I can't hold it against you. I imagine it felt like ages in there for you. Meanwhile, for Namine and me, it's only been about half an hour or so since you guys left." Her gaze shifts to Octavia, assessing her with mild curiosity. "Ah, so you're Stolas and Stella's kid, aren't you?"

Octavia nods, meeting Bayonetta's gaze with a calm, composed expression. "Yes, I am. It's nice to meet you, Lady Bayonetta." She then turns to Namine. "And it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Lady Namine."

"Likewise." Namine replies, offering a nod before quietly returning to her meal.

With a small smile, I place Ruby, Weiss, and Octavia back on their feet, letting them settle in at the cafeteria table.

"I'm going to try my luck in cooking something!" Ruby shouts, dashing toward the kitchen before any of us can react.

"Right behind you, Ruby!" Weiss calls, hurrying after her, leaving Octavia and me to sit down with Namine and Bayonetta at the table.

A nagging thought surfaces as I watch the two head into the kitchen. "I feel like I'm forgetting something…" I mutter, frowning slightly.

Bayonetta gives me an amused look, raising an eyebrow. "Those two are part of the Eldritch pantheon." She reminds me, her tone casual with her gaze filled with amusement. "So, don't be surprised if they end up creating food monsters that either—possibly both—kill or rape their victims."

I stare at Bayonetta, processing her words. She returns my look with a smirk, entirely unbothered. The realization hits, and before I can think twice, I leap up and rush toward the kitchen.

"Ruby! Weiss! Don't touch anything related to cooking!" I shout, skidding into the kitchen just in time to take in the chaos. "Oh, shit..."

The scene before me is ridiculous yet disturbingly intense. A massive roasted chicken wields sausage links like nunchucks, facing off against a colossal loaf of bread with sticks of butter for arms that are currently holding Ruby by her ankle. Meanwhile, Weiss dangles helplessly from the grasp of a giant cabbage with a gaping mouth, its tentacle-like leaves dripping with some kind of saliva-like liquid, slathering Weiss as it holds her high.

"Nope!" I snap my fingers, instantly using Boundary Manipulation to relocate Ruby and Weiss beside me, replacing them with a large sack of potatoes now in the grip of the monstrous food creations. Without missing a beat, I push Ruby and Weiss out of the kitchen.

"Right, you two are officially banned from the kitchen, something I just remember." I say firmly, watching their sheepish expressions as I turn back to face the absurd army of food beasts left behind. "Now, let's see what you've got." I brace myself, preparing for a fight with these unholy culinary nightmares.