Three months had passed and Riki was stuck at a Showing Party with numerous other pets. Riki couldn't keep his disgust hidden, even though he knew he was digging himself a hole with each glare and each complaint. Although Iason hadn't actually given Riki strict orders to keep the peace, he knew he should try anyway. Perhaps he would benefit from having a friend, even if it was a pet.
The music playing softly in the background made Riki cringe. Out of habit, he felt his pocket, only to realize that Iason had taken his own personal music player away; not that it had any great music on. The slums had little next to no music, and the music that was supplied here was conformed into a cheesy, old-school tune which only satisfied Riki because it drowned out Iason and the rest of his situation. Now he was forced to listen to the endless conversations of the pets and masters. Pointless chatter.
Riki swirled his drink around in the glass. He knew from regrettable experience not to trust anything he was given, but he also knew he had to act normal. As he watched the green liquid splash onto the perfectly polished floor, he could clearly hear a conversation, no doubt about him, held by a small group of female pets that were sitting at a nearby table. Pretending he couldn't hear them, he continued to examine his drink as he listened.
"There," one girl said. It was as if she was trying to make him hear her. "That dark-haired one next to Sir Iason. That smart ass looking guy is the slum mongrel, for sure."
The girl next to her nodded in agreement. "What's with him? He's not pretty at all. I can't accept that someone so tasteless could be a Blondie's Pet. Right, Mimea?"
But Mimea, pet of Lord Raoul, watched Riki with great interest. "He has such a striking appearance. However you look at him, you can tell instantly."
"Of course you can," retorted her friend. "He's a slum mongrel."
Mimea kept her eyes locked on Riki. He could almost feel her gaze burn into his head. "I don't mean that. How can I say it?"
Riki had decided he'd had enough and, without telling Iason where he was going, he left his drink on the table, shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way towards the girls.
The girl beside Mimea ignored her question and hesitated, wondering if they should make a run for it before Riki approached them. "He's coming this way," she hissed.
Before any of the girls had chance to make an escape, Riki had approached them. He didn't give them time to speak before asking, "Can I sit here?"
It was his best shot at being polite, but when they all ignored him Riki quickly realized it wasn't worth the effort.
"All perched so high," he snapped. "Now you're all ignoring me?"
"Hey, you."
Riki's attention was quickly diverted from the girls to the pet that stood behind him. He remembered his voice: Enif. If Riki's night was ruined before, it was now.
"Hm," Riki turned around. "A pet of that gaudy bastard from earlier."
"What do you mean, bastard?" Enif snapped, obviously offended. "Sir Kyle is a great man. Watch your mouth."
Riki suppressed a sigh of annoyance. "You have some business with me?" He made no effort to make his voice sound tired.
"Hah – can't you tell by looking? That's a special table. I'm sure you'll stink like the slums up there. Slink back to the corner like a good mongrel!"
"Stop yelping, you noisy bastard," Riki snapped. "Aren't you talking to the wrong person? If you want to show your face off so badly, why don't you go lick the asses of those guys lounging over there?"
Enif's eyes widened with disgust as Riki kept his cool, another reason why Enif hated him.
"Do you, mere slum trash, intend to pick a fight with me?"
"I don't mind beating you," Riki shrugged. "If you don't mind letting that pretty face of yours get dirty, that is."
"What?"
Riki wasn't at all surprised when he was struck by the obstinate pet. Despite the murmurs around him that noted Enif's courage and strength and how Riki deserved it, he grinned and clenched his fist, almost enjoying the attention.
"That didn't hurt at all," Riki laughed. "You're supposed to fight like this!"
Enif knew what was coming before Riki had forced his fist into Enif's face, piling such power behind his attack that Enif was forced to jump into the air and land onto a table filled with glasses that, upon his impact, shattered and, like a fountain, splashed around him. Riki folded his arms as he observed his handiwork although he made sure not to make eye contact with his master.
"B-Blood?" Enif muttered. "Oww… it hurts!" M-m-my face! Sir Kyle!!"
Iason and the rest of the Blondies had been watching and although Iason secretly got a thrill from watching his pet give Enif what he deserved, he was met by an angry Kyle, who demanded justice.
"Iason, how do you intend to take care of this?" He cried, watching his pet attempt to lift himself off the broken shards of glass.
"It was your pet that provoked and raised his hand against him first, Kyle," Iason noted calmly, not taking his eyes of Riki. "Isn't it obvious that whoever begins a fight is the guilty one? So if his teeth end up broken or whatever… you can only say it's self-inflicted."
"But still, there's a matter of the degree," a determined Kyle replied.
"I think the mouth of your prized pet was harsh enough to deserve it. Forgetting that he started it, even without the matter of force he still touched my pet. You paid a lot of money to get him didn't you?" Iason didn't have to ask. "Before you have them interact with other people's pets, maybe you should teach them how 'the mouth is the root of all troubles'."
Kyle could only growl in defeat. He knew Iason was right and his anger and pride forced him to watch his broken pet shakily pick himself up and walk past the angry mongrel, ashamed and bleeding profusely.
