Me: If you've played Fossil Fighter Champions... you'll remember this character. I just. I can't.

Trikko: -Since when could you can?-

Me: JEEPERZ CREEPERZ, TRIKKO.

Trikko: -_-

PS- Oyasuminasai: OYA(a as in father) SUMI(like sumo wrestler) NA(as in claw) SAI(as in sigh).

The Alone Champion

Chapter 3: Oyasuminasai (Good night)

?

It is silent in the snowy terrain at the vainest peak of night. Fighters, at least, the wiser, know the importance of resting at night and waking at dawn for their help. And once more, I struggle and attempt to become comfortable on this expensive seat, which is actually quite impossible. I squirm for a moment and decide to ignore the stiff back and bottom of the aqua blue chair. My yellow orbs bore into the window once again, listlessly flickering upon the screen displaying quite the array of a sight: ocean and billowing boughs of snow whacking upon whatever it finds uncouth. The billowing powders collects upon the jet, but the driver easily flicks on the windshield wiper. And with that, the snow's life is ended through the swift cutting of gilded plates merely marring it open.

I'm not bored, per se, in this clamped chamber. My eyes find themselves entertained through watching the driver of the ship, a character not even much older than me, his spiked, blue hair unkempt beneath goggles and whatever else my father placed on him that he found the simple servant would need to drive for my latest Fossil Fighting Tournament. Nowadays, I happen to find that these pall with each pass, further retrench me through each listless battle, each listless cup, each listless tournament, as they drone on. There's nothing new about this whatsoever. No joy whatsoever. Merely... purpose. And this is my purpose. This is what I do.

Simple reasoning and planning brought up why we are traveling to this new cup at night: quite obvious... the fans. People have come far and wide to see me in action and know that I am the champion of fossil fighting. I have racked a fair number of fans that want to take a blinding flash photo of me or want a lock of my hair, which are both outrageous and simply daunting. A few have even asked me to sign their arms; as if I would do that. As if I have reason to find myself among the petty humans in this earth. Besides, nothing changes, save the landscape.

The windows shielded amongst the golden jet plane give off their own reflections of myself, and I find is a nuisance to peer through a section not offering a portion of myself to see. It's easier to stare out into a landscape that I know I won't recall anyways through the two-to-three-months this longer tournament was announced to go on for. I would rather not see out through my own self. Besides, the coiling sense of snow has begun to interest me.

My eyes blankly note as the private jet begins a steady descend, sending soft hums across the gilded, golden surfaces. As posh as this jet is, I still cannot find a way to ensconce in this stubborn seating. Wind scrapes against the glass windows, but does not find a way inside either. The dark sheen of twilight has covered the small island I am descending to like a blanket. After a few moments of hesitation, the private jet lands onto what I believe is snow with a soft, slightly-wet thump. I quietly exit the aircraft, landing my elaborately-designed, brown boots into the substance.

Slowly, I turn around for one last look at the jet. It's a dark, pure sense of gold, but some areas are a hazy way; harder to see, just in case insane people try to track me in another plane. So far, that hasn't happened often, but when some human comes floating on the wind, nearing, it is hard to get away safely.

My boots crunch white, frosty bits. I was right about the snow. Glancing further lets me slightly notice the single building set up in this "town," covered in shadows at the moment. The cold air nips at me past the posh, red coat and puffy, red-and-white-striped pants, but despite that I know this will be a nice place to stay. It is too bad I will leave after winning the Caliosteo Cup. I could enjoy this place if it were possible to live here, though I still doubt this whatsoever. I have a single home, and that sense of an expensive mansion is enough. Coattails trudge past me as I move on.

Blank, harsh, yellow eyes traverse through the small ice town. I remember it being called Ilium Village, if memory serves. The rather large structure ahead of me is a tall dome, easily swamped in the shadows of night I'd seen before. I can make the assumption that it is of light wood since the moon shines coldly to reveal a somewhat wooden and awkwardly-angular shadow. A smart touch to the dome is the ring of stained glass windows, colors numerous and bright. The dome is smaller than the mansion my father keeps me in, but suitable. Although, I have never seen a room that could trump my... home.

There are no sense of pathways in the snowy terrain. Simple. Though before the islands had been finished readying for people, I do recall being sent here by my father to "check out" the place- allow humans to see me before another tournament eats into my time. I had found a few suitable areas in this white-filled lair, I recall, that were intriguing and filled with no one but me. It was nice, I suppose. Quiet, surely. I continue walking along the crunch of ice and snow as it attempts to bite at me.

Once I get myself into the wooden, rainbow-windowed doors, a blue room greets me. I can tell there is a varying assortment of blue throughout the room; see a few couches placed neatly together to the left of me; two staircases lining the sides; a long, aqua-colored booth; and some hallways. A lady bores into the booth she sits behind, spinning aimlessly in a chair, but she does hold a calming air to her, so I walk up to the blue-clad female. "I believe I am staying here, at Ilium Island," I murmur.

Her blonde hair spirals along as she busies herself in finding a card which I assume leads to the room I was registered to sleep in. "Yes, yes, of course, Rupert," she responds, still in search, not even peeking up at me. "There's only one other person staying here, so it's kind of obvious this is you when the female has already arrived." Her words chill me. My father... he blundered in this, usually sending me to a room without a single person whenever I do have to stay in my own hotel for a night, and I've never spent a night or so with another person in the same room. Already...

"Geez, I'm guessing you don't like the looks of that. Well lucky you, the girl was only just registered by a lady who wouldn't even give her a last name, so who knows, maybe she's actually entertaining for ya." I ignore her obvious intent and accept the card she hands out. "Well, good luck out there." I was correct about her initial, calm attitude, but I know well enough that the moment her break is off, she'll be elated to tell her little friends about how she met Rupert Oyasuminasai early in the night, and how he was staying in a bedroom with a female. It would interest me to not think of whichever rumors could be spun from this. Humans... such nuisances. Such... nothings, honestly. With what speed I can, I find myself atop the midnight-blue staircase and into the room to the top-left, labeled "1A" for my simple convenience.

The room is small, but contains a homey or quaint feeling. The walls are a deep blue, matching the blankets sprawled across two beds. Each are pushed against the left or right wall. The left one is occupied. The carpet is a light cyan. There are a few shelves and a wardrobe or two scattered about, leaving not the largest amount of space. Although admittedly, the room gives off a somewhat homey atmosphere. Comforting in sorts. My gaze lingers upon the occupied bed, nearly filled-to-bursting by a small female and her two companions, who appear to be vivosaurs of shrunken proportions: a red-scaled creature with a fan stuck to his back and a blue creature with a fanned face and blankets hastily wrapped among him. What further intrigues me in the situation is that in fact, the blankets happen to be completely used by the tricera in question, the girl not even seeming to note the fact that her vivosaur has robbed her of the multiple coverings. Although the bundle of red scaled beside her seems to possibly emit a heat or sort- he could be a fire elemental. Not that I would know; he happens to be one of the few species I can't recognize.

Wandering into the room quietly, I shut the door lightly in vain hope the girl who could be anyone does not snap awake through sound and deposit my ideal baggage upon the bed. A wide array of stars and colorful ribbons of light happen to occupy the sky outside, leaving enough starlight filtering through the balcony and room so that I can rummage into the items I brought and apply them in their own spaces throughout the wardrobe, leaving enough space for the luggage the girl obviously doesn't own. There is nothing on her person, no forms of bagging lying in wait, and nothing in the drawers. She owns absolutely nothing besides whichever clothes are on her back and the vivosaurs with her..? With my own supplies folded away, I reckon it couldn't hurt to check over the girl. She did appear cold, without the proper coverage in such a dark room, nice as it is. I... I wouldn't know. It's not like I have shared a space with another person like this before. Solitude was much simpler on me, admittedly.

Gently, I step a path through the warm, wooden flooring and glimpse, once more, over the female. Her skin... yes, I was right, it is quite an unsettling pale; her hair is mostly pulled through an elastic, a wide majority of her lightly-orange waves pinned up, though stray bits cascade over her face and bangs overlap her eyes. She has not one, but both arms tied around the shrunken vivosaur beside her, and has herself curled around him. Here... I see that... there is quite an abundance of patches littering among the thick, blue jumpsuit she wears. Not the ideal clothing, I would imagine, though she seems to not mind...

Or is she..? The girl is muttering incoherently in her sleep, struggling against her vivosaur and twitching inhumanely through a slow and methodical notion. It's unnatural, her shaking movements and sudden squeaks of voice. And there... over her cheeks... is that... are there tears running down her face? Is the girl... what is she..?

It's unnerving, either way. Forcing a step away from my apparent, new accomplice, my yellow orbs snap shut as a sudden THUMP demolishes any sign of a peaceful moment. I open my eyes once more and stare at the wreckage among me as the blue-scaled tricera proceeds to be flung directly past me and land on what I believe was supposed to be where I slept this night, even if I'm not tired. The packing of blankets among him explodes upon contact, sending five, six, seven covers to shoot across the room in rumpled motions. The girl, I realize, is wide awake now, her eyes wide and a soft, shaky brown. She may need help up... her vivosaur, the red one, has fallen atop her. If the girl was mumbling before, her set of stutters must be a possible improvement.

"...aH-! I...Iiii... I-I. Ummm.. um... ah... wh-wh...wh... ooph..." The red tail of her shrunken vivosaur lands squarely upon her face, alighting the pale cheeks and expression with a flush as she eyes me. "Eekk..." And her voice utterly snaps.

"kK-" I've gotten to the ground by now, and merely watch her for a moment, unsure of how to respond to her. With ragged breath, the girl seems to be attempting to recover from her startle and breathe. She slumps again, though this time fully conscious, breath haggard.

Her vivosaur's eyes snap open, revealing a startling yellow not unlike mine. DAMMIT DINA WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED WHERE THE HELL AM... His eyes land on mine. Oh. Shit. It's a person. Hi, person. Oh. Hey. Stop looking at me like that, it's not li- oh. Oh it is. I'm sitting on Dina, I see... and... shit. Wow, Trikko. Wow.

Shut up, you nefarious dimetro.

Well, fuck you too. It seems that her vivosaurs have no trouble speaking their minds. Hey. Dude. Okay. Yeah. You caught us at a bad time. Forgot Dina was supposed to get some sorta... what was... roommate. Yeah. And he's a guy. And obviously, you're a guy, too. Uh. Excuse the mess.

I am not a mess, Torn!

Are too.

Are no-

The creature, Torn the dimetro, seems to remember he's sitting on top of the girl. Dina, was it? He nimbly leaps from her backside and begins nosing around her pale self, attempting to waken his dear fighter. Shiiittt- no wait. She's okay. Agh. Sorry, Dina. It takes a good minute or so before the girl pulls herself up once more, sitting on the ground and sucking in a final, shaky breath before opening her eyes again.

The first word that stumbles out of her soft voice is "Sorry!" She apologizes profusely. "I am.. I... S-sorry... I am so so so... s-so... so sorry... sorry... Ah... I am sorry, s-sir..." Her face flushes thickly. "Sorry. I... I really, truly am..." Though her eyes are shaken, she sees me. And yet it's like she's refusing to call me as... me?

For a moment, I am silent to the female who, under further thought, although she's physically small, has to be close to my own age. Also, she... she was apologizing to me. Odd, considering the fact that I don't think anyone's ever done such before. "Do you not recognize me..?"

"I-I... s-sorry..." She shakes herself. "I guess maybe I should, then..." The dimetro by her side, now silent, gleams daggers into my own eyes, as if it's my fault she doesn't recognize.

Either way... no one has ever done this to me... I suppose it would be rude to leave her like this. Besides... I find an odd liking to this girl... "Most people do. My name is Rupert," I start, and when her gaze wobbles over me awkwardly, as if to say that she still can't place a finger on my name, I finish quietly, "Oyasuminasai... Rupert Oyasuminasai. And you..?"

She squeaks. "I... um... I am Dina. J-just Dina." The dimetro does not ease his glare, but whispers angrily toward his... Dina. She seems to shake her head rapidly in response, as if disagreeing to whatever the dimetro has spoken of. His sail shivers, upset. "I... um... t-truly, I am sorry about the whole... mess..." she mumbles a final time prior to hastily standing on what I observe to be heavily-scarred-and-calloused toes, devoid of any footwear, plucking her numerous blankets and slapping them to the bed in a rumpled heap, and taking her leave. The two vivosaurs, still short, rush on after her like chubby toddlers.

Brushing myself off, I stand, the fact dawning on me that I never forgave the nice... the nice girl for her apologies of fervor, and soon find myself setting the blankets on her still-warm bedding, murmuring to the blankets that, "I forgive you... Dina."

Dina

After meeting Rupert Oyasuminasai, I had left the room, feeling too restless for another attempt at sleep. I may decide to forget sleeping and try to stay awake on my own. Then I could avoid people better and not have to pester Rupert if I have another nightmare. I would not like to be so rude to the boy... I quickly hop down each step and walk towards the blue booth, blinking toward the lady running it. She appears to be similar to the other lady from yesterday, but her light blonde hair is thicker and the lady is older. She still wears it, though- the blue suit.

"Hello Dina!" the latest staff member chirps. Her head swivels to the side and she glances at a clock on the wall. "Say... it's around midnight. Past midnight. That means the first dig site of the tournament has opened!" The lady snorts. "Joe thinks there are fossil fighters that wait until now for dig sites. Well, guess he was right for once." This woman smiles widely at me, flashing bright teeth. "The first site is called Treasure Lake. Take the copter to Ribular Island. There's a pathway now open to everyone. A staff member can show you." I slowly nod and exit the many-shades-of-blue-room, feeling somewhat unsettled on the inside as my vivosaurs catch up to me and form medals in my hand.

With a peacefully sluggish fervor, I plow through the path of snow, facing a small pang of weariness. But it is better than having another nightmare, in case that happens. The lady must have called for a helicopter, because one of those sharp-bladed, huge, black vessels starts narrowing down upon me. Quickly, my feet make a path to the right, in case the beast does not see me. I wish to not be crushed. But it turns out I was safe; the helicopter lands in a large square with a long, white "H" printed on, where I guess the black vessel goes. After a few short seconds, the long, thin blades above the roof shorten to a stopping point.

It is without glancing back but simply toning into the voices in my head that I make my way up a short stair to the tall doors of the helicopter. I slide in side noiselessly and sit on the cool floor, watching my breath fly away in white billows. "Say, young lady, ain't ya little bit cold?" a man with a heavily western accent questions me. My eyes travel to my single jumpsuit and glove. Am I cold? I do not feel cold. The weather feels more to be a refreshing air: pretty, also.

"No sir," I mumble at the floor. Footsteps echo, leading further away as the man prepares himself to start the engine. I slowly glance out the window, to the blizzard accompanying Ilium Island. A soft, rumbling noise enters the silence and consumes it, until the only sound I can hear is the soft guttering of a vibrating engine, humming to life. The crystallized snow flakes swoop near the entrance, quietly tapping upon the black sides of the heliport and welcoming themselves in. A loud crunch. The helicopter floats up, into the breeze. After a final shove, the ground is left behind and the large vessel only touches air and snow.

Unlike last time, I watch through the door opening as flakes whirl betwixt us, inside and out, in silent, elegant swirls. A cool chill wraps around the air like a gentle and loose ribbon. The dark surroundings outside signal of a new day to come. The colors I had seen earlier are now shadows of their selves; deep blue walkways, foreboding black doors, small rainbow windows. My eyes catch a light mix of colors in the distance and my mouth hangs open. Colors with the appearance of rainbows string the dark sky in harmony. Light pinks; frosty light blues; mellow greens; creamy yellows, in thin, delicate strokes as if a painter had lain their canvas in the sky.

My gaze travels to the free flakes, guided by the wind and brought inside the copter. One significantly smaller than the other magnificent crystals sails past my nose. Before it is lost to the outdoors, my pale fingers stretch toward the sparkly white surface. For a moment, I feel the cool chill; then it is gone. My fingers tingle with the wondrous touch of a simple fleck. A simple fleck that, in a way, reminds myself... of me.

A long, long stretch of deep blue ocean goes by underneath the helicopter. At first, the water had been covered in thick sheets of ice. Next it broke apart at certain points: the temperature rising. Now there are no frozen waters, only warm seas. The float of the vessel bumps slightly, the engine running slower. The soft hum it crafted dies down, growing quieter, leaving the driver and I in blank silence. Once the engine has quieted, a new bump follows, and we land on stone. I quickly exit the plane and slide onto the beige platform. My feet hit land; the helicopter stops, dead. The man from the helicopter finds this a great time to scuttle off- to bed, possibly? A welt of guilt ties in my throat for wishing to leave Ilium Island at such timing.

The pathway that is straight to my right does not have the gate anymore. It must be the open dig site. A long, tall sign sits in front of the pathway. It reads "Treasure Lake" in bright, sky blue letters. A large head fossil with sharp teeth is painted on the letters with a pale color.

Hey, hey Dina! An adventurous, youthful voice fills my mind. That where we're going? Because I think we've got other plans first. Like, I dunno, what I said about forgetting that Rupert guy forever? Yeah? Because humans are terrible? I can imagine a pair of lemon yellow eyes sparkling at me.

"Yes, Torn, that is our destination," I murmur.

Trikko butts in on my conversation. That place looks terrible. I see his pale-striped nose wrinkling up in disgust, the point of a horn on his face twitching in white annoyance. We should ditch the whole Caliosteo Cup and see this Rupert guy we're speaking of. I liked him. Yes, I guess that he would fit well with the other boy... But I do not wish to disturb him even more. Quietly admiring the sight, I wander around the dark night of Ribular Town, recalling that this town should burst into light of morning sooner than the other, hoping my foster brother is to be here soon and unable to rest as he is sometimes. He used to tell me about these exotic vacations his parents would take him on, and that he could never sleep at night in the new environment.

"Dina! What're you doing here?" A chipper voice interrupts the words Torn is about to use. I was right... An odd bit of a smile touches my heart. "I thought you had to live in Ilium Island from now on!" I snap to the left; a shorter boy, though taller than me, in a medium-sized, green jumpsuit skylarks up towards me from the fountains. He clutches a beige hat, which must have fallen off again. His brown eyes sparkle with new-found excitement.

My eyes wander toward the ground. "Um... I... h-had another... um... n-nightmare," is my gentle response, knowing my voice could snap in any given moment as it often does. "And... well... I... w-wanted to geta-a-away..." Tone soft and shivering, I turn to Todd, curious for his own response.

"Well, I was sleeping in my room, when I met... my roommate," Todd shudders, and quickly covers his light brown hair by putting his beige cap back on. "I asked her a few questions like where she came from and stuff; she sassed me! And her face is hideous! I don't know what it really looks like, but her mask is frightening!" Todd shivers again. "I only know her name is Pauleen. Then I got sick of her and came over here. The fountains aren't gonna tell me off, are they?" A goofy smile replaces his quivering. "And you aren't rude like her. Like, you're so so so so nice! I let her know that, too, because she's so stupid and you're so awesome!" Oh... h-how... I am sorry, Todd...

My thoughts scatter until I realize why my foster brother is staring so intently, almost like his freckles are about to pop out of his skin. "M...my roommate is a boy... n-named Rupert," I mumble, "and-"

His warm, brown eyes widen. Todd clenches his hat in exasperation and confusion. He nearly stamps his feet. "Are you telling me your roommate is the all-time famous Rupert Oyasuminasai, while I get stupid, scary Pauleen?! How fair can the world get?" Todd sighs, awaiting my response.

"I.. ohh.." That must be why the white-haired boy thought I was going to f-freak or something... I recall that his hair was somewhat long, down to the edges of his face, perhaps a smidgen longer, the bangs nearly splitting the cold, yellow eyes. It was... peculiar. And... hi-his coat, the richly-red fabric with the navy blue collar and cuffs... it was so nice... it looked so nice, at least. They had coattails, also, and the coattails looked nice... and so did the puffy, white pants with the red stripe... and his boots were so... s-so elaborate. "So... so this is... w-why he was... so... nice... l-l-l-...looking?"

I watch in awe as Todd stops fuming. He places his cap on his head, ceasing the stamping. Brown eyes light up with relief. His transformation usually is funny, like changing from ice to lava. "Good. I don't want you stuck with someone rich, snobby, and mean like him. But if he wasn't being all like a jerk and looked cool to ya..." Todd smiles and quietly squeezes my hand, like an older brother would. He makes me wish he actually was, even if he is younger. A brother alone... it would be nice. "Maybe we can meet our separate roommates later!"

The moment of care is released. His tan hands fly towards the sky. Todd woos and shouts. "Now that that's over: we're so gonna win the Caliosteo Cup, Dina! We can beat Pauleen in round one and I will beat you at the very end! That'll be great!" I smile and nod to Todd. His youth is one of my favorite of his attributes. It is fun to have someone like Todd that never gives up. He is a strong optimist. It is nice for someone like... me, I suppose. I do not know...

Todd dashes to the newly-opened pathway, kicking up dust in his wake. I keep still and watch him until his green jumpsuit has disappeared from sight. Slowly, I walk over his path, my bare feet sore from the abundance of walking whatsoever. I glance down. My feet are not in ruin thanks to long years without shoes, but small bruises still fleck the edges. I cringe at the look of my toes, but merely know to accept this in stride and keep going. Todd is probably waiting for me at the dig site already. I steadily quicken my pace, until a lush, green clearing opens from the walkway.

The grassy plain is darkened with night, but sunshine should not be too far off. Possibly. A darkened figure stands in the middle of the plain. I can already tell it is Todd, though. He is impatiently floundering in place, his green shoes a grassy mess. When my friend gets a look at me, he smiles and races north, to the ending of the peaceful plain. His head disappears after stepping down the hill. I do not run, though... I am not as strong to maintain such distance, either way. But is there not... other items to be found here? Like... what were... um... the f... the fossils. Yes, that is it. The fossils.

I grasp my metallic-colored sonar from a pocket and touch a small, round button on the right edge. A quiet ping goes off. A glow-in-the-dark green line swoops from the top center of the circular disc, slowly rotating around the deep green, gridded background. A new, louder beep sounds as the line hovers over a bright green dot. I create two steps foreword. The green dot stands in front of me. I undo the ties on my pickaxe and swing at the ground.

A small dent in the dirt. I slide to the ground and pound once more. The dirt caking around my target loosens. I thrust foreword another time. And again. And again. A thin hole forms. My left, gloved hand reaches slowly into the small opening. It fits, sliding deeper into shadow. My hand brushes against ancient rock. I conceal my odd sense of excitement with a calm smile and lock the rock in my fingers. I tug slightly, moving more dirt from the original spot. My palm crawls out, a dusty, dirt-covered, brown rock in hand. White specks stick out. I have found my first fossil.

I-I have found a fossil.

Too excited to contain, I tuck the rock under my arm and run to the start of Treasure Lake, too eager to wait until later for my fossil. My... my fossil. On the way to Ribular Town, my body collides with another. I trip and scrape the ground. I feel my knees wobble and I take in a shaky breath. Another pair of eyes lock with mine. They are hateful yellow, much darker than Torn, filled with emotions on indescribable hatred that sends my heart rattling. I can feel myself reeling in place until the person heaves themselves up with a feminine, "Ufft." The girl stalks past me, stepping on my hand with the soles of a shoe. I bite my lip to keep in an idle squeak. I stumble closer and feel my rock. A long, thin line wraps over it. I sigh, upset at myself for fumbling into the girl, and pick myself up. I trust my rock is not too badly damaged. Possibly I can still clean it into whatever it wants to be.

My hand slightly throbbing in new pain, I clamp fingers onto my rock and walk into the town. I hurry myself into the wooden doors of the Ribular Town Fighter Station. Scuttling on, I dash my way into the hallway on the far foreword and right, and carefully place my rock on the stand of green. I suck in a determined breath and take the small, dull-colored drill from my bag, and lean over the new fossil.

A peaceful whirring permeates the cozy chamber. I silently dig into the fossil, alone, watching specks of dirt slip from the bone. The bone is evenly sliced in half from the top-left tip to the bottom end of the bone. Seeing the broken chips forces a dizzily clumsy sense onto me. I hold back the bitter thoughts and worry on fixing the bone. Checking the meter reveals that the red bar from the top has nearly sneaked past the success line, thanks to my cumbersome work. The drill buzzes harder into rock as emotions fill it.

The small, gray tool weighs down my pocket once more. I stare at the new fossil, an attempt to identify it. The bone appears shaped as a fat oval. Three long claws draw from the paw. The only part I dislike is the clean cut, running through the palm and part of a claw. It adds to a fossil mess, but I do not exactly mind. Of course I am clumsy; it is... it is just me, I suppose. Hefting the once-again large-but-not-particularly-heavy calcium mold, I enter the arm pieces in the slot to the far right. The bones are dragged into the machine.

Staring, I slide to the side and watch the bones be evaluated. Soon enough, a voice crows from the depths of the technology. "Tricera arms- fifty-six points." I stand, confused. I honestly, absolutely have no clue what should happen next. My toes restlessly spring upon the green flooring. The machine waits, whirring and committing to nothing of the sort that I think could help me. After moments drag on like boulders, the machine speaks up again. "Please enter Trikko." I slowly blink. "If not entered in one minute, tricera arms will be transported to storage section of Vivosaur Management Machine." To this, I fumble for my tricera, as explicitly mentioned by the odd machine. My fingers touch blue glass. The medal is shoved inside the revival machine.

The robotic voice speaks again. "Tricera. Points added to body- fifty six. Along with arms." I listen to a long ramble of numbers and codes, silently staring at the revival machine for an answer. The symbols are bland and do not combine well in my cumbersome head. I slowly blink. "Trikko has been upgraded by the bone placement, and shall be upgraded." The machine is quiet again. A small, blue medal pops out of the machine, staring up at me with visible hatred displaying that while he knows what happens, I did not and place him inside the machine anyways. I attempt to ignore that aspect and calmly walk out of the cleaning room, hoping Trikko and Torn will not set off in another flaming battle.

In the end, I decide to examine the other shop. I navigate myself out of the green, meadow-like room and walk down the steps. A sign tells me the brightly-colored room to my right had opened at midnight and will most likely stay out for the new tourists and the like for a time. I heed the written words and slowly crack open the glass doors into the room.

A shop. That is... um... that is... So... What is there here... There are three booths: one to the front; one to the left; and one to the right. The one in the middle contains assortments of numerous letters and notes. A chubby, hearty man stands at the booth, a letter clamped within his palms. A sign directs this booth as "News." The one to the left has stocks of goods kept in many long shelves. A tall, thin lady works there, holding small golden coins. G, our currency, was it not? I assume this is the actual shopping area. And the booth to the right has shelves of... masks: rubber folds of vibrant colors to hide faces. A short, stocky woman stands there. Her face is concealed with a rainbow, expressionless mask.

Unsure and wobbly, my mind leads to the middle, where the baffled man awaits. He has stick-like brown hair, and dons a beige apron. A tacky sweater is rolled up to his hairy elbows. The man sizes me up, slowly nodding. "Heeeey ya!" he calls out. A shaky, pale finger rises for me to point at myself. "Yah. Ya look broke. Can ya help a shop-mahn out?" The words slightly sting- his spit stabs my face; I brush the globule back and quickly nod, somewhat shaking. "Good. There's a package ova there." The man points to a box next to his booth. "Ah'm busee here. Can ya go an sort those ta the shop ladey there? She'll reward ya nice." I slowly nod, and lean over the box. Inside are fossils. Many different heads, arms, spiky oval-shaped pieces, and long curve-like structures I think are legs. My eyes narrow, attempting to read through the jumble of bones for a sign. "Ohp, may wahnt thaht." A large book plops to the ground near me. The cover reads "Vivosaur fossils," if I am not mistaken. I blink hurriedly and happily, now with a reference, flip open to the first page: pictures and captions. This entire book... that is nice. That is good.

My fingers slip into the box, pulling out a rigid head. It has a small beak and wide eye sockets. I start to flip each page of the heavy, thick book. Each paper reads a vivosaur name, and shows pictures for the fossils. Each fossil is white and elegantly curved to shape the vivosaur into the fully-fledged beast. If only the book contained pictures or sketches of the live creatures... That would be quite interesting, I daresay.

I softly turn page after page until a small, beaked creature appears on the paper. "Nasaur," the book reads. I compare the two skulls and blink, sighting the similarities. This had taken not too long. If I keep going at this pace, it could be well after noon tomorrow before I finish. Although I do not mind such speed... it will be peaceful in this corner. I grab my small drill and lightly push in the words "nasaur- head" near the top and place the fossil near the box. I give a shaky smile and place the head in a separate box before turning around and curling myself into the wall. My hands search the first box for the second fossil.

I fall into a laborious, though peaceful and quiet, pattern. Tug out a bone; identify type; search pages; label. The task is long, but I feel that giving help is the one aspect I can do. Also, this is quite... fun. The peace is evident. Also, there is not another soul here. How... quaint. Although, I wonder who else would help a shop man label fossil pieces? I know Todd would not. With my loss for words, I drill another name inside a spiky, oval-shaped piece. I know know it is called a body piece. Ribs, mostly. Though not each time.

The surroundings are hazy. I feel bumpy, thick bone under my fingers, see the dull white of the vivosaur remains, the small, lumpy face, long rows of sharp teeth. pointed toes. spiked, awkward shapes. I drill tiny letters into the base of a foot. Slowly lift the soft, old paper to turn a page. Run through rows and rows of old bone. Every once in awhile, the welcoming voice of Torn greets me, cheering me on and hurrying me to finish so he can battle others. I numbly place a long, thin claw on the ground. Trikko snorts at this for a reason I remain unsure of.

I can see lines of yellow beams flow into the room- blearily check the box. Stacks and stacks of bones. I rub at my sore eyes and grasp a recognizable foot. One without a slice through. I give a small smile and drill the mandatory "tricera- arm" easily. The bone is pushed with the other lines of labeled pieces. Voices around me. People moving; buying, selling. I drone out the sounds and work. Once I finish, I may have some money, which I will need in order to move on as a fighter. No money means being a sore loser when failing at a fossil battle. No money means looked down upon. And it means my sonar cannot be upgraded- vital in finding fossils. Also... did my roommate not have money? What... how can I be of use without..? Is money... important, though? I want to know how it is important, but I guess first I will need some of it.

"Dina?" A voice. I hear it, but feel clueless to the owner. Cannot remember. At a short loss. "It's me... Rupert. Would you want any help?" I feel my cheeks grow warm at the thought of help. His voice comes back to me: cool, considerate. I recall him now. To answer, I softly shake my head no. Do not need help. Go away. "...Dina, that is quite a pile you have going, but please, let me help you. This is insane, and you appear ready to drop at any rate." Tenacious. He will not give up easily. I blearily nod, feeling a stuffy head totter over my shoulders.

I blink, and turn to my left. The boy with the white hair leans down beside me, a second drill clasped within his palm. I cannot help but wonder why he wants to assist. It is early. Most people do not use mornings like this. It is wasting the time of peace, I think. I do not know. I am Dina. But he pulls a clean fossil from the stack and quietly flips a page to the book. Slowly, I take a new piece of bone and skim the pages as he flips. We work together, slowly diminishing the towering pile of bone. It amazes me how well Rupert had caught on, and just simply the fact that he wanted to join me is just... th-thank you... Rupert...

Clumsy and bleary, I reach a hand for a fossil and grapple onto a musty scent of air... Wait does that... it does. Done. Slowly, we scoop the fossils and place them in the box. We had not taken as long as I had previously predicted. Now we can claim the reward- Rupert will not wheedle himself out, after the work he had decided to assist me with for no reason I identify other than the reason he actually wanted to truly, genuinely... help me.

Tired, it would be quite easy for me to step upon a coattail in front of me, though I do not know how since they do not directly tap ground. My bleary head feels as if I could though. Almost as if sighting this, the boy seems to stop for me and I somehow manage to not blunder into him, or anyone, for that matter. Upon seeing the lady with the fossil and the money and... and the G... Rupert places the box on the desk. "Oh, thank you!" the girl I can hardly keep in gaze states. "I'll send you a Paleopager text when we're ready for you to learn some new digging techniques from a man named Nigel Scatterly. That's the plan, at least." I am so oddly sleepy that the lady could tell me we were to be devoured by vivosaurs and I would not even realize.

Unsure where else to go, I trundle after Rupert into the Ribular Town center. It is nice that he is nearly my height, and not too much taller or shorter. He slows down to match my pace as we near the bubbling fountains. "I was wondering if you would like to join me at Treasure Lake later," he murmurs, yellow eyes ablaze. "Mornings are my favorite time of the day, and... you interest me, I suppose. I've never seen a person who apologized as much as you."

My eyes cross for a second, the second it takes for me to realize that he is talking to me and that my eyes are crossed. I shake myself, face warming. "Um... I... I would be happy to oblige, I think... y-yes... that would be ni-"

Before I can hear a response, a louder, more childish voice erupts from beside me. "Dina! Your roommate is Rupert?" Todd. I can already see his beige hat fly off his head as he rushes towards me. "The Rupert Oyasuminasai? He's a child prodigy, you know!" I feel Rupert stiffen beside me, and my eyes wander along.

"You are a... um... a-a... p-prodigy, w-was it..?" I whisper. I do not feel curious, only wondering aloud. "...In.. what? I-I mean... if you do not mind me asking..." The stiffen Rupert has is released, and he sighs, sounding relieved. I glance at his pale face and burning yellow eyes, confused.

"It's nothing... really..." Rupert shrugs. He takes one glance at Todd and his running. "I guess I should go. Don't wish to be a bother to you." I watch him walk ahead of me, too fast for me to hope catching up. To the pathway on Treasure Lake. I feel his presence gone. And await Todd.

That was awkward, no? Trikko laughs in his doubting tone. He raises his pale-and-blue-striped head in triumphalism from his medal.

Me: Yay! Rich boy Rupert has joined the fray! :P And do you wanna know why I used his last name to mean "Good Night" in Japan?

...NOT TELLIN YA! Read for yourself and find out! ^ ^