“Are ya dies done cuddling and hogging the way?” a voice reverberates through Nirma and me, it’s distant though. Surely it isn’t calling out to us. “Yahoo~? Dang, you guys are all caught up in your sweet and cutesy world, huh? Welp…”

  Cute? Funny, I think I’d like for whatever retionship I’ve with Nirma to be counted as such, things you’d see in a lighthearted Yuri manga. The ones that are more of a bait than any actual retionship. As, that is far from the truth. If only—

  “Hwah—!” Cold water spshes us both, ultimately waking us up from the dreamy state we were in. Rude! But I guess we were the ones ignoring them anyway, so it’s fair. Who was it anyway? It doesn’t sound like that geezer’s wife, a bit too high-pitched. Ah, it’s his daughter.

  Now that mystery is solved, the first thing I check is Nirma, she’s… undoubtedly pissed. Strangely enough, her deathly gre doesn't break the girl before us. She’s standing there, arms crossed, looking at us with a smug face. Scary, Nirma’s face would terrify any person, yet she stands strong. Perhaps the people from this realm are that powerful? Though remembering the spark her mother had with Nirma… perhaps it just runs in the family.

  She’s cd in an adorable bck and white maid outfit. Giving us a small, graceful bow, she proceeds to… scoff at us? “Save that energy somewhere else, girly, pretty sure you’ll pass out soon, I can sense you’re drained. You are strong, but seeing your pitiful state, I can say with utmost confidence that I'll win.” Mia— the name her father called her with —funts her hair, eyes sparkling with glee.

  The girl is definitely looking for a fight, if she can sense how powerful Nirma is, and still provokes her… yeah, she just wants trouble. Quite possibly, the thrill, too.

  Click, click, click…

  That sound is trouble brewing. I look to the side, and Nirma is ready in combat mode. Her wing, once soft to the touch (despite how it looks), is now glistening like a metal sheen has covered it. She stands and brandishes her lone wing, eyes locking on the girl.

  Shit, I have to do something.

  “Stoooop it, you two!” I throw myself in between the two of them like a human meatshield. “Nirma, she’s not worth it! She’s just a brat begging for your attention!”

  “Haaaa?”

  I keep going. “I don’t bme her, I’d get jealous seeing a divine being being oh so sweet and majestic to a lowly and disgusting mortal. I would’ve done the same, be all jealous and wished it was me instead.” I exaggerate with a few nods to myself, as if I’m making a scientific hypothesis.

  “Excuuuse me???” she interjects, her tone offended. “At the very least, you know your pce, but calling me… that is simply unacceptable!” Aaand now she’s stomping her foot, throwing a tantrum. She’s appalled to even say the word, damn is she a professional at being what she denies being to be.

  I finally turn my attention to her. “Okay, look, I’ll deal with you ter, alright? Just be gd you two didn’t kill any people!”

  Both of them paused, looking at the crowd, then back at me.

  The brat’s mouth fps open, but no sounds come out, not even a groan. Instead, she crossed her hand and huffed away… silently. Nirma scratched her cheek, her gaze nding on the floor.

  Good. They know what they did wrong.

  Walking towards her, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze as tightly as I can. “You okay? It’s not like you to get carried away like that.” It really isn’t. How do I say it? She has been a little… off ever since we’re here.

  I understand there’s an underlying reason she’s like that when we first saw the city, something that locks her body into pce. But that’s exactly why I’m worried about this stubborn girl. If she’s pushing herself to be here with me in the first pce, I’ll try to return her to her realm and give her a firm scolding. A huge one.

  “Yes. Sorry.” Liar. She’s not telling the truth. I don’t have any proof, but I’ve got my gut feeling to back me up. Which is why I won’t pry, I’ll let her be for now. Ever so slowly, she returns the embrace, and her wing starts to return to its usual grace.

  I crack out a small smile. “I’ll be having a talk with you about this ter.”

  She nods, making no protest. “Me too. On why you degrade yourself like so.”

  “That’s… y’know what, fair enough.” I let out a small chuckle.

  No defending myself there. It’s quite an odd habit that I’ve— well, considering how I am, everything about me is odd. Anyhow, back to the topic, at times when I talk about someone else, I’ll slip up and I’ll end up talking about me. But it isn’t the usual narcissistic stuff, I always badmouth myself, think terribly of myself, or loathe how useless I can be.

  This proves to be more… troublesome to deal with. It forces people to either agree, which in turn makes them look bad, or to sympathise and cheer me up with words. They barely work, and I don’t feel any better after a long talk. Understandably, they get tired and silently drift away from me. It is the best for both parties, or so those are the words I fool myself.

  I’ve yet to find a clear reason why it just ends with me. For something so trivial and selfish, you’d expect the answer to come knocking on your door and prepare itself for you. But… I always felt that the answer that I am merely a narcissist is cking. I guess that already speaks volumes about what I am.

  It could be that I’ve never grown since the day I killed my sister. I was a professional at being an annoying, attention-seeking brat. I suppressed the feeling when I awoke to my whole family dead, and now I search for that feeling in other shapes.

  At least I’m self-aware, does that count for anything? I would say something to switch the topic, preferably before I run my mouth again, but I guess even that job has been fulfilled by someone else.

  A certain sm the sliding door open. The noise was harsh; it snapped all three of us awake. “What’s taking so long, Mia?! I ordered you to fetch them thirty minutes ago!”

  “Y-yes, Father, I apologize. You two, head inside.” After muttering the words, she rushes to her dad.

  “What the hell is that geezer made out of?” I say out loud, fbbergasted.

  “Someone powerful. In terms of sanity, that is. Maybe a high mage,” Nirma answers, clean and concise.

  Yikes, if even she says he’s strong, then we might’ve treated him too harshly…?

  “Fret not, I did not sense any particur mana within him.” She ruffles my hair. “To put it frankly, he has reached his expiry date.”

  “Pfft, even you can crack up jokes, huh?”

  “Was I? I am merely making an observation.”

  Hah, she’s even doubling down too! “Alright, let’s just go, I don’t wanna get sprayed by the old man’s words again.”

  “An exceptional pn. I shall follow.”

  The moment we step foot into the house, our senses are once again assaulted by many things. A huge dining table is set up, complete with home-cooked meals. Fresh out of the kitchen, too, some are still sizzling, smoking, hell, some are even still boiling.

  What surprises me more is there’s a damn AC just chilling on top of the dining room. As well as a television pying what seems to be a drama. So we’ve ended up in a realm where things like these exist. Makes sense, the photograph shows a family wearing modern-ish clothes.

  It’s nauseating to go back to the world from which I’ve rid myself; it is clearly not the same, but the simirities make me sick with something I can’t quite put my finger on.

  “You okay?” Nirma asks in a silent whisper.

  “Not really, no. I’ll tell you ter once we’ve some alone time. Just… hold my hand, please.”

  “Mhm, I got you.”

  The squeeze from her anchors my mind back to normal.

  Let’s go back to the real world.

  There are five chairs around the table, three on one side and two on the other. Now it can be assumed that those two are for us, but I’ll just… wait until someone tells us to sit down. Don’t like to self assume and don’t wanna be rude. So now me and Nirma are just standing awkwardly on the hallway door.

  “Oh ya gotta be jokin’ right now,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Sit down, ya two! Who do ya think these are for?” Well, that’s the confirmation we needed.

  “W-well, I thought it’d be—”

  “If you think you are being nice and humble by refusing our hospitality,” his wife begins, her tone scarily cold, “then you are simply rude and disrespectful. Go and enjoy the meals my daughter prepared.”

  Ouch, her words are cuttingly painful. “Y-yes ma’am…”

  “Hm.” Nirma, on the other hand, isn’t fazed at all.

  We settle down on our side of the table, and Mia pours a gss of bck tea. “Do enjoy our specials. On the house.”

  “Thanks, we appreciate it.” I smile at Mia, whose bratiness has vaporized into thin air.

  “Yes, what she says,” Nirma follows up, not wanting to say the word out loud, or she still holds a grudge towards her.

  “Noted~!” Giving us one hell of a dazzling smile, she turns and resumes her duties. She’s a good waiter outside of her smug fest.

  Nirma is already grabbing a pte for herself, I on the other hand is still stuck on what I should choose. There’s so many that it's dizzying. Compared to what I’ve had during my past life, which consisted of instant noodles and a bottle of water, this is way too complicated.

  “You can grab a little bit of everything, or at least the ones that are appetizing to you,” she whispers beside me after she’s done with her pte. Sure enough, she pretty much grabbed little bits of all the food. “Just make sure you finish them all.”

  “Noted, I’ll do that now.”

  I ended up with three different fvours of rice, a little braised meat that tastes simir to pork, and a lot of vegetables. Now I don’t know what counts as a veggie here, but they look like pnts and they’re green, so I’ll take it. I’m not a big fan of meat anyway.

  “Wha?!” The taste is even better than it looks— it’s bursting with fvours and I did not know rice alone could be this tasty.

  “Yeah, this is pretty good.”

  If it impresses Nirma, then this food is heavenly.

  “Heh, that’s Mia for ya. She outdid her mother’s cookin’ since she was ten, and her mother was considered the best cook in town!” Gramps let out a rumbling ugh, smming the table as he did so. He then proceeds to gush about his daughter for the next twenty minutes, occasionally a random object from the house would fly out from Mia’s room when he shares embarrassing secrets, barely hitting the old man.

  Apparently, Mia’s happily in love with her girlfriend who lives next door. I find it adorable, but Mia finds it irksome that her father is sharing moments where they got caught kissing in the bathroom. While I understand Mia’s frustration, being that bold means you’re just looking for trouble.

  There seems to be more to this household than meets the eye. Gramps did a few slip-ups, saying how he isn’t really from this world, but rather somewhere far away. I highly doubt it’s the same pce as mine, as he has mentioned doing some guild’s work when he was ten years old.

  Nirma never made any comments throughout his stories, forcing me to stay engaged with him. Small talk is not my special skill; hell, any kind of ‘talk’ isn’t my specialty. Luckily, he doesn’t really mind it as long as he can gush about his daughter. Another thing I learned about the old geezer; he’s a great father, not that I know what qualifies as one, but I find myself smiling from story to story— that gotta mean something right?

  With one st drink of his beer, he sets it down on the table, nearly toppling it over. “Haaah! Thanks for listenin’ bout my family. I hol’ 'em real close to me, you see.”

  “I can see that your family is lucky to have you, I am sure of that.”

  “Pah! What’s with the sweet words now, dy? Ya that easy to win over? You were talkin’ quite badly of me y’know.”

  Ouch, well if you weren’t to be the stereotypical stubborn grandpa we wouldn’t treat you like trash— Right, I can’t say that. “Well, about that… I’m sorr—”

  “Bahah! This ol’ man is pyin’ with ya, don’t sweat it.”

  “Oh, is that so? I see… ahaha…” I can only follow up with a half assed ugh, corporate ugh some might say.

  The day is starting to weigh me down, I feel my sore body aching for a mattress to y down on. Nirma is starting to get bored too, her hand is now idly squashing and booping my hand under the table, sometimes she pulls in my fingers to make them pop. Owie, but it does release some pleasure so it is nice. Bonus points for her being absolutely adorable.

  “So, I take it ya done with the food?” he asks, cracking his neck.

  I nod, not waiting for Nirma to answer. Her pte has already gone crusty from the grease and rice. Safe to say she’s not going for seconds.

  “Alright then. Mia, mind boxing these foods to go?”

  There was a lot of food left on the table, and I’m gd we get to keep it. Even more so that I don’t need to ask for it. Phew. Mia comes running from upstairs, now in her pajamas. I feel bad that she still needs to be working overtime— on her own home no less.

  “Uh, hope you’ll be giving her extra cash,” I sheepishly suggest.

  “Hah! Fine, fine, since ya asked so nicely.”

  “Really?!” Mia lights up, her hands working faster, and I can’t help but smile at the adorable sight. “Oh thank you so so much! I am so using that money for—”

  “But that money will be taxed. Hence ya will be earnin’ less than usual for this table.”

  …Oh.

  Her hands stiffen, then she returns to doing her duties, albeit sulking a little.

  “Sorry, Mia.”

  “It’s okay, worth a shot…”

  Agh, I wish I had any money to tip her! I don’t like seeing her sad, especially when I am the reason for it. Okay, a little selfish, but you get where I’m going with this.

  “Cheer up, ya will also get a whole day off to spend with your girlfrien’, she comes home tomorrow no?”

  “Wah?!” And in an instant, she’s all beaming again. “Thank you thank you thank you!!!” With that she runs to her room again, giggling as she thinks about how she’ll spend her time tomorrow.

  The meals are now tucked away inside a bag that is perfect to carry with one hand. I think someone as frail as me can lift it up no problem. Mia’s handyworks is amazing.

  “Alright dies, I do need yato answer one more question before I let ya free to the city.” He sits back down, feet on the table and legs crossed. “Just what are ya really here for?” he inquires, lighting a cigarette up before taking a drag of it.

  Nirma stops her idle pying, but doesn’t part her hand away. I narrow my eyes at him, taken aback by the sudden change.

  Before we get a chance to answer, he goes on. “Ya two aren’t from this world are ya? Those clothes, who the hell even wears a leather robe in this era? One that’s covered in dried gore too.”

  “So you knew,” Nirma remarks, eyes piercing his soul.

  “Bah! Anyone would, anyone that originally wasn’t from this world anyway. Another drag. At least he is respectful enough to not blow the smoke on our face. “Look, this ol’ man is just worried for ya two alright?

  “Expin,” she commands, loud and clear. But her posture is easing into ‘non combat mode.’

  “Well, I don’t come from around here. I still remember gettin’ thrown to this worl’ just like that. Had nothin’ on me, just a sword I always carry.” His gaze falls to the polished wooden floor as he reminisces the bitter memory. “Luckily, I met my wife on a random desote buildin’.”

  By now Nirma has lowered her guard down… and was back pying with my hand again— completely ignoring his story. I swear this girl, I gotta teach her some manners soon.

  “Witnessed the end and a beginnin’ of a new era, pretty wild huh?” One st drag, and he puts the cigarette out by throwing it inside his gss of beer.

  “I can imagine, me and my partner here are on the same boat as you then.”

  “That’s enough from me don’t cha think? Now’s your turn, your story— or well, your goal.”

  “Ah, yes. Thanks for sharing, it puts us both at ease knowing that someone has been in the same situation as us,” I say, rummaging through my pockets for the framed photo. It’s the only thing that we can give for more clues really. We’d be lucky if he knew the origins of this photo. “As to why we’re here… we want to visit this family.”

  I slide the photo across the table.

  His eyes rake across the photo, and just for a split second his face turns grim— despair. I gnce to the side and she gives me a nod. Okay, she noticed it too, I wasn’t imagining things.

  After a few minutes, he exhales a shaky sigh, forehead sweating. Like the photo had just taken him from hell and back.

  “...Are you okay?” I ask, noticing his breathing getting a little messed up.

  “Yes, I am fine. Just some bad memories.” He rubs his chest, taking deep breathes as he does so. “Bad news dies, parents are already dead.”

  That is… not a surprising fact. On the other realm with porcein statues— the maiden’s parents were also dead, and so was the maiden. Please, I hope we’re not te in saving her this time.

  “The daughter, is she alive?”

  “Did I mention her dead yet? But she is alive…” he trails off, scratching the back of his head. “Only problem? This girl lives at the heart of the city. Which should take you five days to get there.”

  “I see… thank goodness.” Relief washes over me as a weight has been lifted off my shoulder. The guilt from failing to save her still lingers, but I won’t make the same mistake. Not here— not in this realm.

  “This much food would only st you a day, two at most. Not to mention water, you need it for your travels. Heard the journey there isn’t as simple as it seems, lots of terrain issues.”

  “Why does she live so far away anyway?” I ask again, determined to get some more answers. He has provided us with a lot of valuable information— but we need every bit of info we can get.

  It is… difficult to do when there’s a fluffy wing with eyes boring down your soul covering half of your vision. While me and the geezer was having a tense conversation Nirma right now is hugging me all to herself. I… am not compining, but my heart is running so fast i don’t think I can feel my own pulse. In front of others… how bold— and super adorable.

  “Beats me, heard she's scared of us people who live on the outskirts. Something with us being brazen and loud. Usual nobles, tch.” I can taste the disdain the man has for the maiden. It almost pisses me off that he’s treating her like trash, but a squeeze from Nirma— intentional or not —calms me down.

  People often see things through one side, perhaps the man is right, perhaps there’s also another reason. So stay calm Sera.

  “Anyway,” he excims, getting up and cracking his back. “Follow me, you need more supplies.” A gnce at the leftover foods, then he starts walking— presumably where the supplies are. He is rushing it though, which is… odd. But I shrug it off as him wanting to get this over with quickly.

  “Careful,” Nirma mutters after forty minutes of her cuddling me. Great, now I’m on the edge again, but her insight are nothing to be doubted with.

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  She ruffles my hair. “Mhm.”

  The three of us entered an underground bunker located in the house’s backyard, with me and Nirma leading the front and the geezer on the back. He says he can’t really navigate stairs well, and would only slow us down. After that interaction there, we three just stayed silent.

  The air grew heavier with each step, getting staler.

  A lot more walking and we finally see the bottom floor.

  “Finally… my legs feel like breaking soon…” I gasp out, leaning half of my bodyweight to Nirma’s. She doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Oh you young dy, what’re those things made out of, noodles?”

  “Ugh, don’t start geezer.”

  I am too tired for any banters right now.

  “Thanks though, really.” But I am grateful for the things he has done for me.

  “Ey, don’t sweat it. Us otherworlders gotta take care of each other y’know? Supplies are boxed over there. Just take as much as ya can carry, alright? If ya waste any I’ll be pissed.”

  With that we make our way to the boxes.

  The pce was pitch bck, but now there’s a faint blue light from behind us. I suppose it’s the old geezer’s doing so we can easily navigate the pce. But there's a strange charging sound, like a turbine spooling up...?

  …

  Nirma freezes. So do I. Her face is likely trying to figure out where this sound is coming from.

  BANG!

  Something went off behind us, and Nirma yanks my arm so hard that my shoulder rips from its socket. “Aah?!”

  The ground where we stood seconds ago is a smoking crater, molten rock bubbling at the edges.

  “Agh, damn... getting old,” the geezer grunts, standing a few paces back with a bulky weapon in hand. The barrel glows red-hot, smoke curling off it. “Didn’t think she’d start pulling backup like you. Guess she’s getting desperate.”

  “What…?” Was he the one— no, of course he tried to kill us. What is his goal? We were having friendly banter just now. He loves his family, he’s a kind old geezer— why did he do that? It was intentional— why, why, why, why???

  As my mind tries to regain its footing, scrambling for something that would make sense, something that would justify his actions, Nirma has recovered.

  “You okay?”

  The question barely registers, but I force a nod.

  “Well then, dies, no second chance this—”

  A blur. All I see is a glimpse of a lone wing.

  “—time…?”

  His head makes a sickening squelch as it drops to the ground, sliced clean from the neck.

  Nirma stands behind him, wing held up high with bits of flesh and long ribbons of blood clinging to her wing.

  What… just happened?

  Zenovia