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  Chapter 22: Impostor Syndrome

  Food was only so strong a motivator. Outside, on a bench right by the door, Lei-rei settled down on one side, and Craft’s butt landed on the other. He sighed.

  “That’s not a good sound,” Lei-rei said, monitoring the creases on his face. She’d thought he’d be happier to get an excuse to do his Hobby.

  Craft looked at her for a moment, glancing away as he considered whether to drag her into his mess.

  “Is it about what happened before?” she asked. “It’s also my concern. Spill.”

  “Well, since you’re insisting.” He sighed. “The impostor’s still bothering me.”

  He recalled how Lei-rei had pointed a blade to his neck, claiming he’d stolen a statue’s head. It was clearly a case of stolen identity, and who else was capable of assuming his? Why wouldn’t he think something big was going on in this town?

  “You even said something about a statue’s head,” he continued. “It was the one in the plaza, wasn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t actually care much about that.”

  He jerked back in surprise. “I thought this’d be more serious. And you were about to lop my head off over it.”

  She glanced away. “T-that wasn’t the issue.”

  He chuckled. “Right.”

  “No, well, it’s still part of my duties to look out for it, but even if I don’t act, the others will pick up the slack. And it’s not a big issue in the first place.”

  “It’s…not?”

  She shook her head. “These things resolve themselves without anyone doing anything special, even with a perpetrator involved.” She paused. “They could just have a Hobby of stealing. Such people usually return the item since they don’t have a Hobby of keeping.”

  “I mean.” He turned away. “Technically.” He shook his head, a little more distraught about the logic than he expected to feel. “What if they have both as a Hobby, though?”

  Lei-rei hummed. “Generalists aren’t common, but they aren’t rare…”

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  “See?”

  She shook her head. “Even so, the head emits mana waves. Unless the thief is magically-skilled, my comrades will find it that way.”

  “Mana? What, like radio waves?”

  “Radio?”

  The two tilted their heads at each other.

  “Ah, I remember such a concept now,” Lei-rei said. “A man in a gas mask once explained it to me. If radio is energy that travels through the air, imagine mana to be a similar kind of energy which sticks to ‘things which flow.’ It is an energy that follows water currents and is blown away with the wind. At the same time, mana itself flows, hence it affects other mana around it. It’s a complex energy, but that’s the gist of it.”

  “What if the head stops moving?”

  “There’s something inside which continues moving.” Lei-rei gestured dismissively. “ ‘Mana circuits’ — or whatever. It’s something only mana users understand, and for our face-lifting thief, it’s unlikely they are using mana to change identities. I have had someone complain to me how inefficient the equivalent mana-based magic is to maintain.”

  “I see.” Craft mulled over it for a moment. “So they’ll find the head anyway.” He nodded. “So the impostor isn’t really a problem. Yeah.”

  He still had a look of worry.

  “Will you continue to think about that person?” Lei-rei said. He didn’t answer. “All the more reason to distract yourself, then,” she continued.

  “Heh.” He shook his head. “It sounds like you want me to use a distraction on another distraction.” Although he didn’t look her in the eyes, he smiled. He did appreciate her poking him with a verbal stick.

  “That’s how focus works,” Lei-rei claimed.

  “I’m not sure that’s how it does.”

  Lei-rei smirked. “You’ve been forcing my hand a little too often, Craft.” She stood up, and Craft watched her, half-expecting another spoonful of defeat to assail him.

  “Craft — help me with a Hobby.”

  “Eh.”

  A subzero wind blew past Craft’s face right when he’d complained. By his years spent in artificial realities, he knew it hadn’t been natural.

  “Don’t tempt the angels,” Lei-rei said. “They’ll be happy to flick you in the forehead on the next offense.”

  “Right…sorry.” Craft scratched his head. “It just sort of slipped out.” He looked at her with a slight squint. “Wait, I thought you wanted me to” —

  “Craft.” She smirked. “Generalists aren’t rare. I might use swords for work, but for play, I use the bow.”

  He had been happily boxed in. “You’re an archer?” he asked, but in hindsight, people like them were multitools when it came to wielding weapons. It was difficult to survive alone otherwise.

  Lei-rei shrugged. “I’m out of practice.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “There’s not much novelty when it comes to bows — at least, not that I’ve encountered until now.” She held her gaze on him, and he chuckled.

  “I’m not sure I can meet that expectation, but I’ll try.”

  “No pressure. This time, I’m really just curious. I’ve never seen a bowyer at work before.”

  “So you have seen them?” Meeting one would be a new experience. Besides himself and Rafflesia, he’d never even met one before, and he felt like he still had a lot to learn.

  “Once in Contest. It’s a city west of here.”

  “Mind showing me the way?”

  She waved one hand and sat on the bench again, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms, looking out towards the road. “I could tell you if you get your hands moving.”

  He chuckled. “Right, right.” As soon as he stood up, however, the smile from his chuckle disappeared. Even after all of that, he still couldn’t fully put his mind off of the impostor.

  “Craft,” Lei-rei called out. He turned around and met her gaze. “You’re not alone this time.”

  She always knows what to say. He smiled and nodded, and as he went around picking through bushes and leaves, he jealously guarded the blue dots in his mental radar, making sure they wouldn’t be covered over by the chaff of an uncertain adversary.