165 – Pokora the Weeb

I sighed while standing up. “What manner of curse have you brought upon this land?” I demanded, holding back laughter.

The Elf lifted her chin and glared at me. “Memes, Natasha,” she replied with disdain, like what she was saying was obvious. Her eyebrows rose, her eyes widened and, while rising a hand and making a fist, she exclaimed, “The DNA of the soul!”

I closed my eyes and covered a smile that formed against my will with a hand. The laughter going up my throat prevented me from speaking, so I simply nodded while letting out a shaky hum. “Huuu...” I let out a long breath to calm down, then looked at her.

Pokora was smiling and her shoulders were shaking a little.

The two of us burst into laughter at the same time, then bent in silly ways as joy made our bodies shake.

“Haaa...” Pokora sighed and relaxed her shoulders. “I needed a laugh. Today's been crazy.”

I nodded and sighed through my nose .”I bet,” I muttered and walked to her, then gave her a hug. “You did great. I can't imagine how that felt.”

Pokora returned the hug, stood on the tip of her toes, and took a deep sniff off my neck. “Thank you. I don't understand how any of this doesn't bother you, Natasha. Danuva has, like, a million eyes all over her body, and the only thing on her face are eyes. No nose, no mouth. That's some horror nightmare fuel. I can't even describe Saravia...”

I nodded while caressing the back of her head. “It's my mind,” I explained. “Gods don't seem strange to me, but their shapes were still a surprise at first. I'm just... built different.”

The Elf chuckled. “But you get me, right?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“I do,” I confirmed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I'm not socially or emotionally retarded, Pokora,” I added with a laugh.

She sighed and hung her head. “You love that word, don't you?” she accused me in a defeated tone. “Retard this, retard that.”

I shrugged. “You have to admit it is pretty useful here and there,” I chuckled. “To me, retard is about consciously being stupid. Like Yugulari and the Changelings. Stupidity that becomes malicious, or something like that. Maybe it's maliciousness born of ignorance?”

Pokora released me and took a step back. “Whatever,” she sighed while shaking her head. “It's not the worst you do on the regular, anyway. I just don't like it.”

I nodded and pinched her cheeks. “It's completely fine if you disagree with the way I express myself, Pokora. I'll care for you just the same as before, and you will benefit from my privilege just the same, and I will protect you just the same, and I will-”

“Alright!” the Elf sighed and put her hands over my mouth. “You're fucking evil, Natasha,” she told me while staring into my eyes with a suspicious face.

I squinted my eyes at her, then hugged her and spun a few times. I put her down and gave her a tight hug. “I know I'm a complicated bitch, Pokora,” I whispered into her ear.

“Yeah, I know,” she whispered back with a tiny chuckle. “Just taking the piss.”

“Hoo?” I arched an eyebrow and raised my chin. “Aight. Bet.”

Pokora's face turned confused. “What? Bet what?”

I turned around and produced my piano, then the stool. After opening the lid, I locked it and turned to the Elf while sitting down, then patted the spot next to me. “Come sit,” I told her.

The woman's eyebrows rose, then her eyes squinted. “I'd rather not. You're going to make me cry,” she revealed having seen through my plan.

I shook my head. “I'll play relaxing pieces,” I lied with a straight face, denying the wild claim. “You said it was stressing to train under a Divine being, right?” I questioned with a smirk. “I know a few anime openings and shit like that, too,” I added as bait.

Pokora's eyes twinkled with excitement. “Can I make a few requests?” she inquired, having fallen in my trap.

“Sure,” I accepted, hiding an evil grin by turning around. “If I know it, of course.”

“That's class!” she gushed with a big smile and sat next to me.

Heh! I laughed in my mind, but kept my face calm.

I got us to a comfortable position, making sure my arms reached all the keys on the instrument. After a few adjustments, we were good to go. “Alright, shoot,” I told her.

“Uh....” she uttered while thinking. “That one where it's like classical music but turns into that hip-hop song... I forgot the names.”

My eyes rolled so hard I almost damaged my corneas. “Why do people always go for that?” I wondered with a defeated sigh, then started playing Moonlight Sonata. Some twenty seconds after playing the piece, I slowly converted it into Still D.R.E. as requested, then reluctantly added for flavor, “Guess who's back!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Pokora bent over and supported herself on my arms. “Yoooooo! HAHAHA! Amazing.”

I sighed, not understanding what was so funny about it. “Alright, what's next?”

She nodded while chuckling, then produced a notebook and opened it.

The thing had pages full to the brim with words. From top to bottom, black ink covered the pages with very little empty space. Names of shows, music, characters, brands, memes, and more were written down in full detail.

What is that? I wondered with raised eyebrows. Some meme codex? It's all about Earth. Wow...

The Elf flipped the pages for a few seconds. “Let's see,” she muttered and ran a finger over the lines. “Shingeki no Kyojin, opening one theme,” she decided and turned to me. “Do you know that one?”

I gave her a confused look. “Like, the full thing, or just the opening version?” I asked.

“The opening version,” she replied with a big, serious nod.

I shook my head, sighed, and started playing.

Pokora hummed along with a big smile, giggling every few seconds.

After I finished, the woman checked the notebook again and requested another one. I played, biding my time for my evil plan to come to fruition.

“Why do you know all these anime songs?” the Elf inquired with curious eyes while I played Merry Go Round of Life.

“Dated weebs,” I simply replied with a shrug. “I was never too big into anime, but read some comics so we had something to talk about when it came to that stuff.”

“Manga,” she corrected me. “They're called manga, Natasha.”

“They're called fuck off,” I retorted with a scoff. “Don't be that weeb, Pokora. Comics, cartoons, manga, anime...” I shrugged to annoy her. “Same shit.”

“Oh, come off it,” she sighed. “A comic has different style. You should know this, right? You're an artist. Get your shit sorted out.”

“I don't really care what you call your cartoons, to be honest,” I shrugged it off with a chuckle. “A sequence of images, drawn or not, that tell a story are called comics in the language we are using to communicate at the moment,” I pedantically pointed out with an annoying tone and smile. “It doesn't matter where they are from.”

“Not that your opinion matters, anyway,” Pokora boldly ignored my words. “Now play Giorno's theme.”

I chuckled and played the thing.

“Did you watch anime often?” she asked while I played. “I mean, you watched v-tubers so I assume you watched some.”

“I watched a few cartoons, yeah,” I replied while moving my hands over the keys. “But I was more about the comics than the cartoons mostly because of the art style.”

“Fucking...” she whispered, then complained, “At least call them anime.”

“Fine,” I giggled at her annoyed face.

“Which ones did you watch?” she insisted. “What's your top 10?”

My eyebrows went up and my eyes widened a little. “Ten? I don't know if I watched that many.”

“Are you having a fucking giggle?” she demanded, grabbing my shoulder. “Ten is like, the introduction to anime. You can't really enjoy the medium if you don't watch at least 30 shows. Besides, you know the themes and songs...”

“Learning a piece to surprise a boyfriend doesn't mean I watched the whole damn show,” I explained. “I watched the ninja one. The one where this blonde kid screamed his friend's name like every 3 episodes.”

“Naruto? Okay, that's decent,” she approved with a nod. “A bit mid, but one of the classics. Fits your age, too.”

“Was pretty meh,” I summarized my experience, deftly ignoring her comment about my age. “Pretty good for little children, though. A friend made me watch it so I never really cared much about it.”

“Hmm...” she hummed and nodded. “What else did you watch?”

“Sailor Moon,” I recalled. “That one was pretty fun.”

“Did you watch Madoka?” she asked with an intense look in her eyes.

“Nope,” I replied with a shake of my head. “What's that one about?”

“Argh!” she leaned back and groaned. “That's like, the quintessential show about magical girls and the hubris of being one. It bleeds Urobushi Gen's influence out of every orifice. Studio Shaft's distinct style goes hand in hand with the show, even reminding the audience of Hidamari Sketch, which brought forward such a delicious juxtaposition of themes since both shows touch the transition from swee, innocent childhood to the bitter weight of adulthood.”

I nodded along, understanding how passionate things make us. I had no fucking clue what she was talking about, but her eyes told me it was important.

“That show could easily be pointed as a masterpiece that changed the medium,” she continued, balling a fist and raising it up in the air. “Grrrr! I wish I was born before to experience it firsthand! The union of everything that made the show was the apex of the industry at the time, Natasha. And the voice acting, aaahnn~! Chiwa Saito was perfect for Homura. The way that woman made me cry, my God! I can't even begin to explain it.”

“So... what was it about?” I asked again, a little interested in how she described it.

“I'm not going to spoil it,” she denied with an insane look in her eyes, as if I had spat on God.

“We can't watch it,” I pointed out. “It doesn't exist on this planet, Pokora. You're the only one alive that knows what happens in the show.”

“And?” she scoffed. “I don't have the story-telling skills to appropriately convey the events of the show.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Alright, then,” I muttered and started playing Gymnopédie No.1 by Erik Satie since Pokora hadn't requested another song.

The Elf let out a long sigh, then put her head on my shoulder while she ranted about anime.

My fingers moved over the keys and I glanced at Pokora.

She had a big smile and gave me a playful wink.

I guess the plan has changed, I concluded. No reason to make her cry with sad music.