"Exusiai, cover our Defenders as they retreat!"

"Apple Pie!"

"Exusiai, aim for those incoming Junkmen!"

"Rock'n Roll!"

"Exusiai, our Vanguard is having some difficulty with those drones. Can you take care of them?"

"Apple Pie!"


"—and so concludes the recommendation for our next battle. Exusiai's combat prowess as of recently has been nothing short of spectacular, so I believe that we should take measures to utilize this method with utmost haste."

Kal'tsit leveled a steely look at Doctor, her expression showing absolutely nothing but the slightest hints of incredulity.

"So let me understand this… You believe that Exusiai's lifestyle is equivalent to her skills as a Sniper. And, if I might add, you are confident that apple pie and rock music—"

"Rock'n roll," corrected Doctor. "It's important to say it like how Apple Pie says it."

"..." Kal'tsit took a moment to sigh, too tired to continue pushing that particular discussion. "—As I was saying, you believe that apple pie and rock music specifically, are the main reason for her advanced combat skills?"

There was only a nod from the Doctor as he pulled out another apple pie from the oven, it's crust gold and practically glistening in the ambient light of the kitchen.

"And because of this reasoning, that is why you've used the entirety of your salary, plus a little extra from Rhodes' own funds, on apple pie AND a family-wide subscription to a Victorian music station?"

"Yes."

He was lying. Kal'tsit knew him too well to know if he was hiding anything from her.

"Is that really the truth? Or are you just lying in order to save your own hide?"

At that, Doctor stopped cutting another apple. There was a bit of silence afterwards, before Doctor spoke once more.

"I understand if you are angry for my actions. I won't make any excuses. But…" Doctor gestured towards the cafeteria. There, the few Ursan refugees Rhodes had managed to rescue amidst the ruins of Chernabog flocked about, intermingling with Rhodes Island Operators. Despite the smiles and words being exchanged, it wasn't too difficult for Kal'tsit to realize some of the refugees still wore haunted looks, the memories of events that had just been only a week ago still fresh in their minds.

...It didn't help that most of these individuals were middle schoolers. So young, too young to be forced to witness events that would give any unprepared Operator PTSD.

Just like Amiya, who held the lives of thousands in her hands.

There was an unspoken conversation between the two doctors in the confines of Rhodes' recreational kitchen, the white-haired woman's fierce glare meeting the mask of her colleague. For a moment, there was a slight flicker of something behind Kal'tsit's expression, an unreadable feeling behind her stern eyes.

"You understand, even if your intentions were pure, using funds dedicated for the benefit of patients of Rhodes for activities like this is tantamount to a crime. You could be stripped from your rank in Rhodes, even if Amiya wishes otherwise."

"If necessary," Doctor said, his tone uncharacteristically somber. "I will submit myself for disciplinary action. Even if Amiya protests, I won't take advantage of her kindness. Just, for the moment, let the children be children. Don't blame them for this."

...the same as ever. Almost like he was still here.

Why did he have to be so damn earnest, even as an amnesiac?

"...No. That won't be necessary. After all, Amiya wouldn't be very happy with me if I followed through with any form of punishment for you."

She turned around, walking towards the exit.

"Just remember to clean up after this. I don't want to see even a single crumb left behind. Make sure to let Lancet assist you. I doubt you could do a proper job by yourself."

Before the Doctor could say another word, Kal'tsit left, her duties calling her to take care of the budding partnership between Rhodes and Lungmen.

...that didn't stop the ghost of a smile from appearing on her face.