“…Yummy.” The eyes of the ’Copper Blade’ shimmered as her long nails skewered a fresh anchovy from the red sea beneath her, lifting it high, perpendicular to her open mouth, and letting her prey fall. “…YUMMY!” The Naturian lady exclaimed as her sharp fangs pierced the fish, devouring it so wildly that a red storm splashed over the two young men sitting beside her. “…fish…tasty!”
“My dear sister,” Sahel muttered as he wiped the sauce of the bouillabaisse off himself—a fish stew bathed in tomato sauce and seasoned with olive oil, rosemary, and basil, renowned for its wide selection of tropical fish provided by the warm water of the Pacific Sea. “Could you please use a fork?” The ’Tin Blade’ grimaced as he watched his sibling’s hands, mouth, and nose all smeared with tomato, then glanced away in shame as she ignored his plea, diving once more into the red sea to snatch new prey. As the ’Copper Blade’ swallowed it, she surrendered herself to the many pleasures the renowned Auxerine cuisine offered to the tongue—her expression was at the very peak of bliss.
“C’mon, bro, how could anyone be mad at someone with that expression?” Despite seeing her every single day for almost two weeks, it was the first time Jacques had witnessed anything different than her usual inquisitive gaze on that petite face. “Stay still for a moment, Oshira.” She didn’t move as Jacques took a napkin and gently dabbed at her lips, prompting her wide amber eyes, confused yet unblinking, to lock onto his gentle beam. “See? You’re cuter this way.” With his free hand, the ’Javelinist’ began patting her short yet thick mass of hair—Oshira’s gaze now fixed on the spotless floor of the Blue Bird Experience. “Safiye, bring another stew, and don’t worry—I’ll pay whatever price I must to protect this smile!” For some reason he couldn’t quite explain, Jacques found himself unable to stop caressing the black fur of the little black cat, while the girl was now so red that her bronze skin seemed on the verge of melting.
“Here are your orders.” EE-Class ’Birdwatcher’ Safiye Farabi balanced a tray on her left palm, elegantly pirouetting before placing Oshira’s new stew in front of her. “So, Jacques, who’s this little boy? Your cousin? Did one of your uncles find love in Naturia?” She pinched Sahel’s cheek, prompting him to quickly present his documents, which confirmed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was, in fact, a fifty-year-old Barbarian woman. “You really shouldn’t take things from your mother. You might get her into trouble!” Safiye giggled, gently caressing his bald head before sliding a new plate of Breaded Vipers in front of him. Still seething, the ’Tin Blade’ furiously chewed them—they tasted just like crunchy chips.
“Safiye, since you’re alone today, why not sit with us?” Jacques suggested while taking a bite from his mortadella sandwich—three thick slices of pink sausage nestled between two halves of a sliced baguette. Due to the bread’s oblong shape, the round mortadella slices kept slipping out at the edges, and Jacques had his fun trimming the excess with his teeth.
“I’m still on duty…you know…what if Mr. Fritz comes back and sees me?” She curled the ends of her hair, which barely reached her shoulders.
“C’mon, girl, who are you trying to sell food to?” The azure walls of the Blue Bird Experience were kissed by the morning sun, its rays shimmering on the surface and scattering into a thousand glittering stars across the café. Yet, no one but the waitress and her three clients was fortunate enough to witness the proof that Everdreaming Industries hadn’t exaggerated about its breathtaking wallpapers. “Anyway,” Jacques continued. “I just wanted to have a conversation about my team—”
*WHUMP!*
Jacques stopped mid-sentence as Safiye hastily sat down, leaning forward with excitement booming in her indigo eyes.
“You want to ask me if I like Derserk, don’t you? AAAAAAAAH—did he send you to test the waters? I knew it!” Safiye squealed, clutching the round tray to her chest.
“Ahem…you might very well think that, but I couldn’t possibly comment.” The ’Javelinist’ scratched his cheek, whistling innocently. “Nevertheless, before you interrupted me, I was still going to ask you about Derserk. Recently, he’s…well…I know that, as his friend, what I’m about to say might sound unfair, but…” Jacques joined his hands together and leaned forward, now resembling a desperate beggar. “Can you please tell me what the fuck is happening? Why is he so clumsy?”
“Hehe, he’s always been like that.” The Birdwatcher chuckled, although her serene expression quickly faded. “When we were kids, I saw him fall from his horse hundreds of times, shatter his mother’s precious plates, or hesitate when ordered to torture spies in Rouge Nox’s dungeons, and you can’t even imagine how violently his father had punished him—a slap for every mistake, and a punch for the most grievous ones.” She paused, lips curling into a bittersweet smile.
“The more pain he endured, the more his will to live withered. Instead of risking his father’s wrath, he slowly refused to do anything at all, limiting himself only to the tasks he knew he could succeed at, even if those were the most soul-crushing for a child.” Sahel and Jacques exchanged a glance, both gasping at their powerlessness to change the past. “Stop making that face. You should be happy!” Safiye’s voice suddenly brightened, her eyes shining. “If Derserk is now willing to risk shame and endure those painful memories in front of you, that means he wants to change—it means he considers you a dear friend!” She burst with joy, hugging tightly. “Thank you, Jacques. Thank you with all my heart for rescuing the Derserk who’s been imprisoned by himself for far too long.”
The ’Javelinist’ immediately averted his gaze—his soul was too corrupted to endure such a pure light.
Ahhh…okay, Derserk, I forgive you. I just wish your clumsy mistakes didn’t always put my life at risk…but I suppose you can’t have everything in life.
He let out a weary sigh, grimly remembering how that very morning some workers had tried to cement the shower’s trapdoor because Derserk had asked them to fix the shower.
As Jacques calmed himself, he reopened his eyes and noticed something hanging on the wall—an object that reminded him of another conversation topic. “Safiye, I also wanted to ask you about this painting.” The Class F students’ table was located beneath a large oil canvas—abstract around the edges, yet hyperrealistic in the features of a young lady in a wheelchair. Since the first time his eyes fell on that painting, the ‘Javelinist’ had been tormented by her smile, conveying neither sorrow nor delight, yet somehow both at once—two emotions coexisting in a single expression. The paradox unsettled Jacques’ binary way of thinking, and his brain began to torture him with a relentless demand for the truth, as painful as if a nail had been stuck into his skull. However, before starting any investigation, one needed the most crucial clue—a name. “Somehow, her face feels familiar…any idea who she is?”
What was meant to be an innocent question shattered the brightness of Safiye’s smile, twisting it into a grotesque one that echoed the one in the painting. The ’Birdwatcher’ took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with unstable rhythm, then she pressed her hands together in a gesture of blessing—a lone tear falling down her left cheek as she silently mouthed a prayer.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Jacques’ words evaporated into the air as the now-crying waitress suddenly rushed toward the stairs, vanishing into her room on the second floor of the Blue Bird Experience. “What…?” The ’Javelinist’ was bewildered. He knew he had a special talent for saying the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment, however, this time, he couldn’t even understand why.
“Great job, Jacques, now who’s gonna bring us the drinks?” Sahel muttered, his mouth still stuffed by the Breaded Vipers. Jacques heavily sighed before moving behind the counter to take them. “Wait, our religion forbids alcohol. So, just two sodas for us.” Oshira backed her brother’s proposal with a vigorous nod—even the most brainwashed terrorist of the Hivemind couldn’t resist indulging in the sweet marvels brought by their Euralian overlords.
Jacques, however, glanced at them utterly disgusted, and instead of sweetened poison, he returned with three glasses of fresh milk. “Nothing produced by a lifeless factory should ever enter your body—NEVER!” The Marian chauvinism for food was always difficult to keep at bay. For example, the only Marian representative ever to set foot inside the pigpen had once proposed a motion declaring Starfolk cuisine a crime against humanity, which narrowly failed by just three votes—costing Afledt Von Sternenstaub so much political capital that he lost his reelection bid, ousting him from the ’HRE’s’ government for three full years.
“…Soda sweet…sweet good…soda good.” The ’Javelinist’ could hardly argue against Oshira’s flawless logical argument without first consulting multiple studies conducted by independent experts. So, he backed down, raising his glass.
“We’ve known each other for less than a fortnight, but I’m already feeling strong vibes from our partnership. Hence, let’s toast to a bright future together,” Jacques proclaimed as he and Sahel clinked their glasses. Oshira’s, however, remained untouched.
It was firm on the table while the ’Copper Blade’ drank her milk…by licking it—her tongue moved back and forth, slowly emptying the glass. The moment she noticed the baffled stares of her classmates, she froze, then hastily grabbed the glass with both hands to drink in a more civilized manner. Yet, in her rush, half the milk spilled from her mouth, mixing with the tomato sauce already smeared across her chin.
Sahel covered his cringe with a cough, while Jacques once again leaned in and wiped Oshira clean with his napkin.
It seems my little black cat hasn’t lost her habits.
“Jacques, I have a question.” The ’Tin Blade’ knew perfectly well he couldn’t waste such a unique opportunity. “Have you ever desired to des—” Sahel abruptly cut himself mid-sentence as his entire body froze, as rigid as a statue, while his irises vanished, leaving only white eyeballs.
“Ahem…are you okay?” A perplexed Jacques waved his hand in front of him a few times, but got no response. Then Sahel’s mouth widely opened, casting a blinding ray of light across the opposite wall, like a lighthouse. Then, his body slowly levitated into the air.
*POOOOOOOOOOOP!*
In an instant, Sahel’s clothes burst apart, scattering hundreds of scraps through the Blue Bird Experience like confetti. One by one, strange tattoos appeared across his naked body, all depicting drawings of animals or letters from exotic languages—each glowing and shifting across the full spectrum of color.
”Ahem…not to be that one guy, but…is this normal in Naturia?” The ’Javelinist’ asked the ’Copper Blade,’ but received no reply. Instead, from his brother’s open mouth, an entire galaxy poured forth—a storm of colored dust that engulfed the café, separating the three from the rest of reality, and on every side, Jacques could see nothing but thousands of stars burning in the void.
Sahel uttered thousands of words per second in a deep, rough, and almost robotic voice before descending as softly as a feather. He landed back in his chair, the glow fading from his tattoos and the galaxy disappearing from the place. When he finally regained consciousness, the ’Tin Blade’ clutched his temples, groaning in pain, yet succeeded in giving an awkward smile at the ’Javelinist,’ and after murmuring something in his mother language to his sister in their own tongue, he turned to Jacques. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. Could you keep an eye on my sister for the rest of the day? Thanks.”
Without waiting for a reply, he rushed outside—still naked—running with such urgency that it seemed his very life depended on it.
“Wait a minute…now who’s going to pay for his food?” Jacques barked, glancing at Oshira’s innocent eyes. With a weary sigh, he scribbled a note on a dirty napkin—’Sorry, Mr. Fritz, but we’ve got to go. You can deduct the bill from Jerkserk’s paycheck.’ He tucked it under the plate, then looked at the Naturian Lady.
“So, Oshira, do you want to visit the city?”
