Tragic Trains and Strange Spouses [Job]

Spoiler:

This woman scared Mao, there was no way around it: something about her just made the mage…uncomfortable. Try as she might to accept that people would have exotic interests at times, this one sent shivers up and down Mao’s spine like a bullet train. This room of torturous devices, some with fuzzy liners seemed a little too out of the norm even as the woman gushed and explained each one while they awaited her husband. The man, eager to find a job, was dressing to impress and pulling out all the stops, and apparently he had a small knack for matching any woman’s “getting ready” time period so…

…his wife was entertaining the guest until then.

”Here, you can borrow a few of these, you might need them to keep that silly, silly man in line! I really don’t know what his issue is with trains and the like, it’s not as if he has any slayer type magic! Or…is that weakness more geared towards Dragon Slayers only? Do you know if God or Demon Slayers suffer from different weaknesses? Oh what silly people!”

”I’m afraid I don’t-“

The woman waved her hand, laughing before Mao could finish a sentence, another reoccurring theme during their entire conversation for the past half-hour. For the most part she tried to stick to small noises and nodding or shaking of the head, but when the woman looked at her expectantly for an answer it was hard not to try and say something. Staring down at the objects now in her hand however, she silently thanked the woman because it would never make it past the woman’s incessant babbling.

Finally the man of the hour came down looking quite smart in his business suit, hair slicked back, and confident half-smile in place as he went through a few poses for his catcalling wife. He almost started removing his jacket when she accidentally screamed “TAKE IT OFF” before the pair jumped in time to stop him. After all it’d taken almost forty-five minutes to get dressed, they couldn’t afford another second wasted. ”We’ll just save that for when you return triumphantly sweetie,” she smiled so gently at him Mao momentarily forgot about the collection of ropes, whips, and cuffs she’d been subjected too. The woman was the perfect picture of a sweet and loving wife as she kissed her handsome husband on the cheek, ”Good luck, I’ll be thinking of you the entire time!”

As they left the abode Mao watched as both husband and wife waved to one another until they could no longer see the other, and even then the man continued for a few seconds more. ’What a curious trait…is this “marital bliss” some books boast?’ She arched an eyebrow when the man sighed in obvious happiness, a clenched fist resting over his heart as he closed his eyes and turned his face skyward. To some he might’ve appeared as a truly content man sick with love: to Mao he might as well been looking to trip on something.

”So, what did my wife give you?”

”Snacks.” ’Among other things…’

”Can we please continue to the place? I really can’t stand the train station…gives me the willies.”

”Just a moment, I need to get something out of the bag and then we can move on.”

”Must be important…”

”You have no id-oh, here it is. Its’ for you,” Mao’s casual voice distracted the man away from his horrific thoughts, relief spreading through him as he turned around.

And was subsequently handcuffed.

Not just any handcuffs mind you, ones with bright pink fluff around them. Turn off the lights and they might even glow in the dark, though standing out in broad daylight it’d be hard to test that theory. Neither of them said anything as he chose to stare down at the cuffs as if they might vanish with the blink of an eye, his escort staring at his face without readable thought in place. They stood silently for all of two minutes before his brain finally reacted, ”WHAT THE HELL?!”

Shrugging, Mao replied honestly, ”Your wife said this might be the only way, or at least an easier way. Come along, we need to board soon so they don’t leave us behind seeing as the interview’s a few towns over.”

”WHAT?!” he bellowed, the squirming already beginning as Mao pulled on the short chain of the cuffs, ”She said it was in town!”

”No, the job is in town. The interview is elsewhere.” ’Though I think I see why she failed to mention the interview’s location.’ The man all but devolved into turning into a wiggling caterpillar in his attempts to escape. At this rate people would think the short-statured woman was escorting a mental patient or a bounty somewhere with all this kicking of legs and dancing about. Needless to say, people gave them quite a wide birth while staring at the spectacle.

If not for a note of explanation and a quick phone call, they might not have made it onto the train in time. One of the station conductors became a little suspicious no thanks to the man’s loud display and certainly gave them a skeptical look when Mao claimed this as a normal escort request. No, it wasn’t an arrest or anything of the sort, and no he wasn’t some deranged lunatic that shouldn’t mix amongst the masses. After the note he’d detained them for a little longer, just to give the misses a call to double-check their story. By the end of it he looked more confused than anything, apparently unable to believe this man wiggling, waving man close to frothing at the mouth to be one and the same people he greeted almost every day. Sure he’d seemed uncomfortable passing by the train station, but he’d looked much saner when he tipped his hat and scurried by fast.

During their rest in the office Mao took the opportunity to further fortify the restraints, so by the time they sat down in one of the little rooms the man was almost mummified in strange, bright pink rope and wraps of fabric. Anyone who opened the door to possibly join them in the compartment quickly shut it after a few seconds of mental questions, none of which made it past minor babbling noises from the strangers. It was as if they’d never seen someone helped to face their fears!

”Why do you hate trains so much?”

It had to be asked, and it certainly distracted the man from trying to wriggle out from under her tail. For reasons she really couldn’t understand, the man wanted to leap through the window to apparent safety. Face-meeting-brick was, for whatever reason, more desired than sitting on this comfy bench.

”Because I’ve seen what train wrecks can do, the damage they not only reap on places, but the people as well! All it takes is a carriage stuck on the tracks or a dark wizard and bam, so many lives just ruined! Never mind how it affects people…I’ll never, EVER get over that one guy puking on me! I don’t care if he was a slayer or even a wizard saint: I WAS FIVE YEARS OLD FOR GODSSAKES! FIVE AND COVERED IN VOMIT! THE SMELL DIDN’T LEAVE ME FOR DAYS!” By the end of his speech, one Mao thought might end with some tragic story of a family member or loved one dead by train wreck…ended with him crying about a sad past indeed. Not the one the girl initially believed, but a tragic one for any child nevertheless so as he bent over in obvious distraught as the train began to move she did the one thing she could in this instance.

She patted him on the back in sympathy, or as close as she could get to it.

Happily the woman held no recollections of suffering such a fate, but it was not an experience she desired to bear. Eventually the man sobbed himself to slumber, one that managed to last until they reached their destination where she could finally release him from the plethora of bonds courtesy of his beloved wife. Due to his earlier flailing about and general hysteria there was a little fixing to be done in a station bathroom, frazzled hair returned to a slick-backed state. Some breakfast and distance from the reminder of a horrible past also helped reduce the panic in his eyes and face until she could almost imagine the past half-day or so never happened: he was back to that confident man ready to strip for his catcalling, supportive wife.

They parted with a small bit of waving, the man not waiting until she disappeared as he walked off with the travel bag and a promise to take a carriage ride home. It wasn’t until halfway home that Mao wondered if she shouldn’t have returned to bag of ropes and fuzzy cuffs to his wife rather than let him take it to the interview.

’Oh well, so long as he’s not stupid enough to open it there, no harm no foul.’