Disclaimer: The rights of the settings and characters belong to Hypergryph. I only own the plot divergence and progression here.
This chapter is dedicated to Eyjafjalla's birthday, October 18.
An Ordinary Day in Rhodes Island (Part 1)
by Dr. Ren Otonashi
"Hah…"
Cold steel met the warm entrails of my body as I laid upon the doorway outside the Reception Room. Not a single beam of sunlight was present inside despite the clock striking the early hours of the morning, and the AC functioning was the only existent sound in the enclosed room aside from the ragged breaths that came from me.
My legs threatened to collapse itself from the overwhelming stress of attending a lengthy diplomatic meeting to garner support for the Revolution.
I inhaled a bit of air, closing my eyes to gain internal composure from the storm of feelings raging within me.
Exhale.
It was all meaningless.
I didn't even get anything, not even a team of specialized ops for our benefit. A total rejection from someone too naive and was blind to see the desperation of Leithaniens just because of my character and her doubts about my personality. My attempt to comprehend her words resulted in confusion; she said it was like I was hiding something.
I can't comprehend why—what am I hiding? How is my psyche related to the aftermath of the revolution? And the accusation of me hiding something was borderline rude, if it wasn't for the situation we were in.
That was ignoring how she pried into my mind without my consent, though.
And didn't she witness the horrors of the battlefield in my mind? One that provoked paranoia on every corner, and the stench of rotting flesh stretching beyond the horizon our eyes can see? A sight that lied against your intuition while common sense was a surefire way to suffer a horrible death. And regions in no man's land rifed with the promise of safety and salvation, only to disappear without a trace.
Anyone who wasn't affected by living through them was either a psychopath or downright insane to keep a straight face.
And then there's Kal'tsit, one of the deathless and a probable pioneer of Originum Research in Terra. She was against me the whole session. Didn't I express myself enough to get my points across? She might not know much about Leithania, but there's no doubt that she laid witness to the unspeakable horrors Terra's nations held that grasped the borders of what is real and what's not.
Ursus had the ominous 'Emperor's Blade' rumored to be bred from the gates of hell. A faction hidden under the turbulent history of the Empire that brought certain annihilation to those who were judged under their verdict. Yen had the Godslayers—and all tales from mouth spoke of seeing their immeasurable might, submitting deities long forgotten in legends of the old ages.
It was foolish to think that the Leithanien Revolutionary Wars proceeded without the intervention of forces equivalent to these myths.
She might have thought that Rhodes Island had nothing to gain but total destruction by being involved in the revolution, but our movement wouldn't have stretched to the capital's doors if our resourcefulness wasn't competent enough to cause a miracle.
But to conquer the capital itself was tantamount to suicide. It would be similar to Bonaparte who dared to go beyond Moscow without the intervention of outside forces. That hag might claim that Rhodes Island has nothing to offer in terms of firepower, but she's in the wrong impression if my only goal was firepower and support.
They had something else to change the tides of the war—Babel's Elite Operators.
Hazel eyes revealed themselves to the outside world, yet they were obscured by a layer of fog that concealed what lay beyond.
Thinking about what's already happened is pointless. It's time for me to go.
"... Ugh…"
My body refused to move, crushed by the weight of the expectations and hopes I carried when I embarked on this self-imposed mission as a last resort for the revolution. It seemed as if I was slipping into a world of false tranquility, and my soul felt no resistance as it began to sink into the depths of my consciousness.
A hand was raised to the air, reaching towards an intangible entity that appeared to be nothing in the physical world. So melancholic, yet so comforting that I couldn't help but grasp it—the manifestation of illusional hope.
The only thing I caught was nothing, but air. I closed my hand and dragged it over my chest. Nevertheless, the soothing sensation I felt permeated through my whole body and gave me a sense of comfort and security.
Guess I'll be staying here for a bit longer then before checking on the kids.
"May I enjoy my whole life…"
A faint, blood-red glow appeared to reflect from the walls for a moment, then faded without a trace.
11:30 AM \ Clear
Dormitory E01, 2F, Rhodes Island Baseship
May 6, 1099 — Approximately One Year and Three Months after Reunion Conflict
A sizzling noise came outside the pot while I poured water over the sauteed meat in the pot, bursting out a fume of herbal fragrance over the kitchen counter. Whiffing in satisfaction, I covered it with a glass lid to keep a closer eye on the boiling process while ensuring that the meat was tendered to perfection.
The fumes drifted to the other side of the kitchen, the smell emitting a delightful 'Un!' from a bear mincing green onions twice per stroke before a slight pause, ensuring that each portion was of equal length. The response sent a surge of pride into my chest, making me confident that this dish will be nigh-flawless to the smallest detail.
After an arduous time on Rhode Island's top deck, I was back in my assigned room, doing my usual daily quota for lunch. Some of my colleagues will be visiting later for the first time, so I started cooking a while ago joined by my two apprentices, notable operators of Rhodes Island with one having experience with Ursus breakfast while the other used to be a catastrophe in the kitchen.
"Teacher~! What shall we do after this?" said the enthusiastic bear.
"Hmmm…" I pondered for a moment. "Can you stir-fry the potatoes and carrots in separation? Then slice another batch of potatoes—four might do—then mix it in the bowl with some thyme, rosemary and parsley."
One of my favorite pastimes was to cook, a great outlet for stress whenever something kills my mood, may it be a failure, a loss of morale. Food was the universal incentive among all incentives, versatile enough to motivate even the coldest of hearts. And the fragrance alone can even convince stubborn individuals. Ironically, it's also one of the most essential needs for all living creatures.
But hey, no one would pass for a great dish without giving it a second thought, right?
"Maybe you should add some paprika if you want to. It depends on you." I added.
"Cutter, can you pass me the plastic container for my alternative stash of condiments?"
The Vulpo, codenamed Cutter, was an infected seeking treatment in Rhodes Island, notable for being the only individual in the organization's history to be banned from entering inside the cafeteria's kitchen, regardless of permission. I took pity when I heard about her case from another loudmouth Liberi during my early days in the landship.
"Uhh… wait." The Vulpo with a beige hairline scurried around the cupboards like a raccoon.
Naturally, due to morbid curiosity and my desire to understand others, I approached Cutter after her squad returned from the mission, as the HR Department was kind enough to direct me to her. After a period of sweet talks, dealing with her low self-confidence in regards to cooking, and bribing her with some dumplings, I managed to make her agree to be an apprentice under my liege, and it was supposed to be a great end for a happy end.
If she just didn't cut my chopping boards as if she was wielding one of Blacksteel's thermite blades, by using an ordinary kitchen knife. The same goes for damaging my appliances due to misuse and poor common sense when she uses a machine she had zero experience with.
Nevertheless, I'll be cheering for her until she succeeds in the art of cooking, even if it is at the cost of my wallet and integrity.
Without saying a word, she passed the container of condiments to me.
"Thanks, I appreciate it." I gave a reassuring smile which she answered with a nod, preferring to keep silent. "By the way, come over here. You should observe how I add the condiments while I try to explain it as briefly as possible." I reached for the hanging rack, only to be confused when I caught air instead.
Oh, I forgot to return the measuring cups to where they should be stored.
"Gummy, if you have a moment, can you get the measuring cups near the sink for me?"
"Hai, Teacher!" She exclaimed, leaving the knife on the board.
Gummy, a sparking colleague with an unparalleled passion to cook for others, was a resident who sparked my interest when I saw Pelmeni on the menu for the day, a Russian dish that belonged to my past life. Following some questions and conversations with the kitchen staff, I was surprised to see a teenage Ursus girl humming as she rolled ground meat in unleavened dough, confirming my suspicions that it was the 'Heart of Russian Cuisine' in another world.
Our connection began after we discovered that we had a similar interest in cuisine. There followed the formation of a new teacher-student relationship in the kitchen, which resulted in gaining an assistant to help me prepare lunch in my dormitory, and some undisclosed rumours about a pedophile luring innocent children into their dorms. The confrontation with the Ursus Self-Government Group was not a good sight to remember.
I still owe Gummy for standing up to me during those times.
"Teacher!" she exclaimed as she passed the measuring cup.
Well, maybe if she could tone her voice down a bit. My ears were hurting.
Cutter had a poker face as usual, but the slight twitch in her eye was enough to give an insight to her thoughts.
If Zima found out what we were thinking, she would rip us apart.
"Now, Gummy. Once you're done, get wax paper, place it on the metal tray, rub some olive oil on it, then place the mixture evenly on the tray." I instructed, taking out some ingredients to use from the refrigerator. "Then dash olive oil over it while grating Parmesan Cheese. Roast inside an oven for 45 minutes under 400 degrees Fahrenheit while Cutter and I are handling the main dish."
Wish I could bring some Leithanen herbs and spices with me…
"Now look at how I use these condiments, Cutter. Maybe I should let you taste some of them later, but as a person who doesn't rely on taste, Gummy might need to teach you that in my stead."
"Basil, whole." Check.
"Marjoram, whole." Check.
"Dill, crushed." Check.
"Bay leaves, crushed and dried." Check.
"Cayenne Pepper, grounded." Wait, Cayenne Pepper doesn't exist in this world. Lol. Should remember to ask Perfumerif she has herbs to substitute for my native peppers.
I motioned for Cutter to watch the pot in my place as I left her in charge of the stove. A notebook was taken from the nearby counter, then I began to write;
Exotic peppers outside of Leithanen. Must ask Perfumer about it. Set appointment as soon as possible, after visiting on them in the Medical Department.
Then I need some sort of incentive so I won't look like someone who takes advantage of others. Maybe information about plants in my homeland would work, I guess?
Also share ideas about Leithanen and Earth flora for discussion.
Equivalent exchange of information, indeed. I nodded to myself.
Satisfied, I returned to the stove where a diligent Vulpo scrutinized the pot as if a single mistake was a matter of life and death.
I appreciate how she's taking my mentorship seriously, but please not to that level of dedication.
"Black Pepper, whole." I should spare some time to crush them with the mortar and pestle later.
"Rosemary, whole and dried." Yeah, this needs a mortar and pestle now if I don't want annoying needle-like tidbits in my stew.
"If you don't mind, please take the mortar and pestle too. Forgot about the Rosemary being whole."
While I might be carrying a lot of risks when I assigned Gummy the knifework, she had proven countless times that she could slice even the toughest of meat with decent precision even with that two-slices-pause-repeat eldritch habit of hers.
Unlike a certain Vulpo here who makes sashimi out of my poor cutting board. Please note that there's a distinct boundary between what's edible and what's used to make things edible!
I leered at her hands. I was sure that if left unchecked she would cut straight through the board and start mincing up pieces of the countertop itself to boil in a pot.
"Even metal wasn't spared, too…" I mumbled under my breath.
Hoping that Cutter didn't hear me, I caught her attention by waving my hand at her sight, distracting her from monitoring the pot. I then proceeded to explain the purpose of each herb and spices for optimal usage while adding some of them in the pot.
Some time later, a knock came from outside the door to the dormitory.
"Sensei," the voice called out, "Are you there? We just got back from an operation, hope we aren't disturbing anything."
"Come on in!" I shouted back while placing the carrots inside the boiling pot, lowering the heat of the stove to reduce it to a simmer. "Make yourselves at home!"
"Melantha, you heard Sensei, let's go!" Another voice filled with energy then chimed in, followed by a loud beep then the sound of the door sliding open to let them in. Standing just before the doorframe was a woman in her teens, emitting a flashy smile that was accentuated by the two dog ears she had on her head. Her white dress was adorned with sable stripes, and she wore socks that reached her knees. Stripes of her hair flew into the air from the momentum she made as she dashed through the door.
However, the feature she had that stood out like a black dot in a blank canvas, was the violet hair attached to her goggles. It had an air of familiarity, the color similar to one of the strands of a certain Feline's hair. It was a symbol of friendship between her and her team leader, symbolizing their importance to each other.
"Ren-sensei, what are you cooking today?!" Her yelling fluctuated as she scurried around the room in curiosity. Stars formed in her amethyst eyes when she saw the various appliances we had in my dormitory. She was noisy enough to provoke a hint of worry inside me, fearing that she might disturb a certain person sleeping inside their room.
"Nothing special, just Beef Stew for today, Merry." I replied, my eyes fixed on the pot as I motioned at Cutter to fetch the ladle. "Don't forget to keep your weapons aside."
"Stop fooling around, Cardigan," Someone berated the Perro from behind her. Entering into the room with glamorous elegance was a divine figure who graced us with their presence by ascending into the mortal world. The epitome of femininity—her ruby eyes giving off a hint of concern that steals the hearts of even the toughest men with a mere glance. 'She' was unique amongst her race as one of the rare ones blessed with bunny ears drooping downwards. This feature caused people to mistake it for part of her hair, which was reminiscent of the shade of cherry blossoms drifting in the sultry breeze of spring.
The Cautus gave a slight indication of hesitance by the way their slim arms embraced the pile of textbooks they brought with them, hinting a figure so slender that even the supermodels of Rhodes Island frothe in envy, much to the displeasure of a certain former editor in Columbia.
A beauty unmatched that even the female members of A4 won't even dare to challenge him in the contest of attractiveness.
But yes… him. Unfortunately—
"You're gonna break something if you keep going!" The Cautus yelled, only to be ignored by the hyperactive Perro as she continued fooling around even after the last of her squad entered. In the middle of her attempts to stop Cardigan, 'her' ears perked up all of a sudden, sending shivers into her spine. And as if a sixth sense directed him, he snapped his head and turned to look me in the eye.
"Sensei, you're looking at me weirdly again. Just so if you need a reminder, I'm a man."
He's a guy.
A single fact that can shatter the resolve of even the most determined. Yet, people are still privy to his charms, and their hearts leaped for every instance a melody escaped her lips. Truly an expression of infatuation beyond all taboos. But…
He's a guy.
Ahhh, the cicadas are crying…
But—he's still a guy.
"Sensei, may you forgive her disregard for etiquette." Another member of the squad bowed his head, eyes closed. Steward, A4's 'pretty boy", and their greatest tactician. The way his pristine hair fluttered reminded me of the frosty entrails from the hazy memory of my old home. A distant memory of ice, and winter wind. His white tail only enhanced his image of peace and comfort.
He was the personification of the calm snow, his words evoking an ambience of tranquility. Every member of Reserve Ops Team A4 looked up to him for his maturity—one that was beyond the impression you'd expect from a person who barely saw the world for what it truly was.
"She was the most excited among us to visit you in your dormitory. The previous days only amplified the enthusiasm she had before we went on the mission."
"Is that a piano?! It's my first time seeing one directly, how does it work? Do you randomly press the keys?!" I shuddered. The mention of a piano made my body tremble to the core in fear of Cardigan causing irreparable harm to it.
Before I could even step outside the counter, Cardigan's hands slammed the piano. The hammer struck on the strings inside and the result was like blasting a bell without controlled harmony. The incessant sound forced an instinctive urge to grit on every person in the room. Being the most proficient pianist there, I was the most affected when I almost managed to bang my head on the counter.
Maybe the fact that she didn't ignore the pedals under her feet was a sign that she was still had hope—wait, why are you raising your feet so— Noooooooooooo! Don't stomp the damper pedals, you heathen!
You're gonna break my one-million LMD piano shipped from Victoria!
As if that weren't bad enough, she jammed more combinations of random chords across the bar, forming distorted, muddy arpeggios that sent tingling impulses in my brain, making me want to crush my head in agony. Even my apprentices partook in the sentiment when the clang of metal crashing down the marble floor echoed from the kitchen. The horrors of the sonata were similar to Mozart's 'Lacrimosa'.
If one decides to abandon the aspect of artistic value and technical skill, I mean.
"Merry... Please calm down..." A timid voice was barely heard, coming from the supposed leader of the eccentric squad that arrived in my room. Her cat ears were twitching from the vile dissonance reverberating from the piano. "You're going to make Sensei angry."
"Don't bother with her, Melantha. You know you can't stop her." I denoted. Melantha frowned at me.
"Sensei!" Her hands covered her mouth in an instant, horrified at the fact that she yelled. "A-ah…" She turned away from me, the Feline in a nervous twitching of her violet hair that indicated her nervousness. "But anything that Merry does is my duty as her responsibility party…"
By first impression, one could wonder how a submissive streak of a leader could ever lead the battlefield. Particularly when one considers details such as how she covered her body with her arm, or even the way by how she flinches when confronted with intimidation or surprise.
She may appear meek, but don't let that fool you. The fact that she accomplishes her objectives without defect even with possible hindrances makes her surprisingly reliable. Despite her formal image, she was actively involved in the team's antics. While she lacks my efficiency and thoroughness due to the experience gap, her reasoning and decisiveness were outstanding, taking much less time than her teacher (me) when choosing possible scenarios.
She does an outstanding job of tracking and monitoring the capability and progress of her team, which is a rare trait that deserves praise. The same talent, unfortunately, is the core of her sense of inferiority and lack of confidence amongst the team members. It is possible for blessings to become curses if they are unpolished and unmastered, and to leave them alone is to create a tragic outcome.
"You do not have to be in charge of Cardigan for now, Melantha. Don't stress yourself about it, I'll take care of her."
Melantha looked unsure, so I pushed on. "Remember that you're still students under my care. No one is responsible for the other except for the teacher alone. My duty as a teacher is to do the best I can do with those who are facing certain issues that hinder their development. And being tasked to supervise your peers is a burden that's supposed to be done by your teacher."
"But..." she protested, her ears drooping as she trailed off.
"Melantha, relax. Let Merry have her fun for now. I'll be responsible if she ever wrecks anything of importance. That fine with you?" Melantha wanted to continue arguing, but decided not to press the issue as she remained quiet, despite how she desired to insist.
Backing away, she sat on a nearby sofa, legs crossed as she read a book she'd brought with her. She was still anxious of Merry, her eyes glancing at her best friend from time to time being a hint of her concern.
I let a resigned smile escape my lips as the clamour of discordant timbre went on to pollute the atmosphere. "Merry... what am I gonna do with you?"
My words fell deaf on Cardigan's ears as she continued shoving each of her fingers on random keys. At that moment, without prior warning, her hands slowed down after reaching the last octave in an attempt of a sloppy glissando. And then her 'concert' was no more when she placed her hands to her lap, followed by muffled exclamations of relief from everyone in the room.
Guess you could say that it was some sort of avant-garde. An impression focused on spiting classical musicians, ironically.
"Adnachiel, come on!" She invited the Sankta, which she referred to as Adnachiel, to join her reckless endeavor, much to his discomfort. "You should try it with me, that was fun!"
That was…
Fun?
What—
"Sorry, I'll watch you for now. This is the first time we're entering Sensei's dormitory, after all." He excused himself awkwardly.
"Aw, you're a spoilsport!"
As if you aren't spoiling the mood of the room with that cacophony you call music.
Anyone who's been around me when I was a teacher knows that I'm a total disaster when it comes to happy-go-lucky students like Cardigan. They emit so much positive energy that I can't just bring myself to stop them, considering how the mood would plummet if I did so.
Plus, how can you ever have the heart to ruin the fun of the innocent and pure? That's just too heartless!
Others disagree with my sentiment, however. They say that they get anxious every time I'm too carefree around the energetic ones.
In short, it was a disaster in the making.
"I'm too easygoing aren't I?" I mumbled to myself.
"You are, Sensei." Ansel was able to pick up my words, much to my misfortune. "I don't even know why you became our teacher with that relaxed attitude on discipline."
"Ugh... That was a critical hit!" I clutched my chest in mock agony. "I ask that to myself more than you think I do." My fingers splayed over my eyes. "Wait, give me some time to harden myself."
"At this rate, we're going to have our credits deducted before you could even man up." Ansel just shook his head in exasperation. He leaned aside the counter, preferring to observe the kitchen for the moment.
Adnachiel saw it fit to enter in. "How's your day, Sensei?" he asked in a casual tone, contrary to the mystifying aura he emitted subconsciously that made other people hesitate before approaching him. Yellowish eyes that pierced through your mask, despite how well one hid themselves. The dim halo distinguishes him from other members of the Sankta, regardless of whether he is infected or not, making people uncomfortable in his presence.
That was my impression of him when we first met in the landship's workshop. It disturbed me greatly when he shrugged off my hostile stance by a formal greeting despite his glance a moment earlier that seemed to indicate he knew I was intimidated by him. Well, despite the awful start, we got along quite well when I witnessed how easy it was for him to digest information and speak in equal terms after a while.
We just got back from a convoy mission a few hours ago. Pretty much everyone was slumped by just sitting most of the time, except a certain wild defender of ours."
A true mark of one of the renowned geniuses of Rhode Island, despite how he tries to rebuff praises off by sheer humility.
"Another average morning, to be honest." I slumped a bit. My eyes darted upon the bag in his hand. "What's that you're holding? Sweets?"
He gave a Cheshire Cat smile. "Got that right, Sensei. Made them earlier after reporting to HR. Steward also helped."
"Put it in the fridge, then. Pudding is best served when chilled."
"I know."
"Can't wait to taste it later. Knowing you, you even got Exusiai beat in making sweets. Even with her trademark apple pie."
Even with his back turned from me, his shoulders shifting up just a little, told me that his smile widened. "You flatter me too much, Sensei. Certainly you can beat Exusiai."
No, no, no. You hold me in an image too high for my caliber. That could be true for combat ability, but she destroyed me when I tried challenging her to an apple pie concours de pâtisserie. Like, seriously speaking, how can she be so mediocre with other sweets yet a god on her own?!
Freakin' Laterano boulangère. The same could be said for the Sankta in front of me, although I don't want to be degraded from mentor to apprentice. That would be too humiliating!
"That can't be it."
Ansel spoke out of nowhere while I stared at Adnachiel's form. "Didn't you have a meeting with the Directive Board? I heard Warfarin complaining about wasting her open schedule yesterday at another board meeting."
You old-hag Sarkaz hiding in an eternally young carcass! Why won't you shut your mouth up regarding confidential information?! Better yet, take out a loan for your funeral already, it'd be an improvement since the dead can't talk!
"Really?" I flashed a quizzical smile as I struggled to calm down with panic surging in my insides.
"Yeah, I did hear her mention your name directly."
She even leaked the subject of interest for the meeting?! Does Dr. Blood even know what confidentiality means?! Warfarin, no matter how much you might have helped me since the past month, I'm afraid that I'll be having tea with a certain Feline considering your pay for the month.
I looked away from his peering gaze. "It's a long story."
"Considering that it'll take half an hour for the stew to simmer, I'd say we have enough time for a long story, Sensei."
"Wait, what's with the questions about my identity all of a sudden?" Stepping outside the counter, I approached his personal space, him flinching from the sudden action. My hand rose up to his neck and I lifted his chin." Perhaps, you took an interest in a gallant mentor like myself?"
His cheeks swelled into plump, red puffs. "Wha—what are you accusing me of, y—you depraved Sensei?!" His eyes squinted shut, pushing me away as he turned her back from me. "And I know you're dodging the question!"
Damn. Caught in the act.
"Strictly confidential!" I exclaimed.
"The idea that you might be involved in secrecy is beyond my comprehension."
That… that one hurt.
He got me there.
"Hey, I'm not your mentor for nothing! Being promoted to Elite 2 in a single month isn't something you see everyday." I hmph'ed and lifted my head up in pride.
"Isn't it well known that the Doctor has an uncanny knack for promoting operators just an hour after meeting them?"
Guh. The comment slammed like a truck at 100 mph.
Another critical hit! Please stop hurting my already-tattered pride. Every word you speak is amplified by the way you look at me with that stunning gaze.
I coughed to assure myself. "I—I can't deny that assertion. At least it was the Human Resources Department who promoted me instead of the Doctor, despite his pretentious offer—an insult to a capable man such as myself."
The Cautus scoffed, melting my fragile pride as a result. "How ironic, considering that you did teach us to use every tool at your disposal, no matter how obstinate or underhanded it was."
...
I'm done. "Melantha!"
"Y—yes! Sensei?!" From across the room, she flinched upwards. She set her book aside in an instant, shoulders tense as she frantically scrambled left and right in panic.
"You've won the right of taking Ansel's share of the stew later on—"
"Wait, Sensei?!" Ansel's calm composure broke into a fit of anxiety as he realized that I was taking the portion of his share. He drummed his fists at me in protest. "That's unreasonable!"
"—and the roast potatoes are for the other boys to share, so eat up!"
"Not even a side dish, you heartless wench?!" He exclaimed, his head snapping at Melantha. "Melantha, don't listen to him! Sensei's immaturity is hogging his capacity to form rational decisions at the current moment! Surely you know the importance of having a full meal!"
"B—but it's Sensei's… orders," she stuttered, crossing her hands. "...and didn't you tell me last time that… the Medical Department mandated you to follow a strict diet?"
"Oh, I definitely didn't hear of this, Ansel~"
I grinned from the thought of inflicting retribution due to the embarrassment I suffered earlier. "There should be no exceptions when following rules, Ansel. Besides, you wouldn't dare to want to get… you know—" I whispered the next word in his ears. "...fat?"
His cheeks flushed, before making a tantrum out of objection. "No, don't do this to me! I don't want to be the only one eating a half-sized meal!" An invisible pang of pain struck through my chest as her cries echoed in the confines of my mind. How pitiful, indeed.
But he got what he deserved. "Sorry. My kitchen, my rules."
And a weeping Ansel was dragged by a delighted Melantha, struggling to keep her satisfaction of getting an extra share under her delicate mask.
I responded with an awkward smile. "I'm glad you're very understanding about my situation, Ansel."
Mission success! I successfully diverted his attention from the diplomatic meeting earlier by a series of questionable—but effective—maneuvering tactics without much personal loss! Of course, to their own benefit as it would be a pain to involve them with complicated, old man stuff.
The negotiation between the Directory Board and I, representing Rhodes Island and the Leithanien Revolutionists respectively, was kept in confidentiality as per my request to avoid Rhodes Island being involved in diplomatic issues before gaining their support, but it seems that sensitive information was leaked even before the negotiations began.
I appreciate that Ansel saw it fit to let me know of the leakage, even without knowing the whole perspective. The fact that she was ignorant of the importance of the meeting could justify Warfarin's behavior of leaking out confidential information. Since Ansel knew that she was referring to me, there was a risk of my identity being compromised by those in the Medical Department who heard the vampire rant.
While I was absorbed by my thoughts, however, part of my mind forgot to supervise a certain, hyperactive Perro in the dorm, of which the now-recovered Ansel took notice.
"Cardigan, no!"
Then there's the issue of being too secretive with my students. Since Ansel already revealed about the meeting, I had to satisfy their curiosity. Being too secretive can lead to unpredictable speculations about my secret—a landmine waiting to explode at the worst possible time.
How could I possibly do that, then? Should I divulge the fact that I was a traveller or maybe some of the details during the meeting?
Now, why did Ansel scream at Merry?
My eyes darted towards the Perro I'd ignored earlier in favor of addressing the other members. There she was, bored of the piano that she explored the room instead without caution by dashing through the furniture. And now, the time I perceived around me slowed as Merry tripped on a carpet's edge as the force from the instantaneous disruption of her momentum threw her to a certain corner of the room.
The moment when I saw that Merry was on the verge of crashing to something she by all means shouldn't be, my fingers jostled to form an imaginary insignia as it pointed at the area near her. Steward, who remained calm despite the current situation, was thrown into a surge of panic when his attention was taken by the weird gestures I made on air.
The room was illuminated by a flash of red, and energy as red as blood, in pure essence, took form in my palms. Yet—
I was too late.
Crash. The rattle of plastic breaking exacerbated through the room, enticing a slackened jaw from a pastel-haired Cautus male and a snowy-haired Perro clenching his jaw.
An awkward laugh came from a Sankta and dread filled their Feline leader's irises, her face paling in horror.
Dead silence followed afterwards, aside from the occasional popping sounds from the simmering pot. Cardigan laid there, paralyzed as the blade from her tonfa sank into the chair's upholstery.
She gave an awkward laugh which disturbed the quietness of the room. I closed my palm, the faint red light vanishing from my surroundings.
"Merry." As one of the stools rolled toward me, I gave her a blank stare. "I don't mind if you tear my appliances due to your recklessness since I can just fix them easily."
Her teammates let out the air they were holding for so long, feeling relieved.
I wasn't finished, however.
...
"But that was Elite Operator Logos' chair that you ruined."
Horrified was the unwritten language of what Cardigan had on her face that the other A4 members couldn't help but radiate an air of despair that darkened the space around them. Cutter dropped the ladle that I gave her earlier, eyes widening in shock, while Gummy was frightened to the point of retreating behind the fridge's compartment.
Even I, the oldest amongst them, could only maintain my neutral facade as alarms blared inside my mind, panic rushing through every corner of my body, enough for others to notice my trembling body if it wasn't for the clicking sound of metal which caught the attention of every person in the room.
The sound of a wooden door creaking echoed throughout the room, and for every single second passed by, the pit in their abdomen grew inch-by-inch as Melantha collapsed with her hands on her belly. Cardigan looked at her teammates, begging to be saved from the doom she was fated to experience much to the terror of the onlookers. Not even the calm Steward could contain his despair that those who depended on his composure immediately wanted to run at that very moment, if it wasn't for their legs locking up that prevented them from moving.
And the bloodshot eyes of the renowned Sarkaz caster revealed itself through the gap.
He snapped at Cardigan's fallen form.
I'm so sorry, Merry. But you brought this on yourself.
A bell rang, indicating that the potatoes were already done roasting. But the ever growing fog in the room surely wasn't from the oven.
"Damn," I said in awe, coughing as the fog began to fade away from the room. "The legends about Sarkaz Witchcraft weren't all about exaggeration." The fog stirred away from the gaps they creeped in, disappearing to who-knows-where.
The Sarkaz caster was as still as a statue, his form towering over where Cardigan was supposed to be. He had his signature bone wand flicking around as he fixed what he could with his spells despite the destructive cores of his originum arts. He sighed as he did what he could with his arts to fix his chair—broken beyond immediate repair.
The same couldn't be said for a certain Perro cowering in the corner, life faded from her eyes as Melantha rushed as her form. She was in a state of delirium, seemingly unable to respond to external stimuli as her squad leader tried to get her back into her senses in futility.
It was improper conduct, or plain rude in colloquial terms, to be amazed by a spectacle that probably had traumatized your student for life. I should be on her side now, comforting her along with Melantha. Logos, however, needed to be spoken to first.
"You could have just asked Pinecone to fix your chair instead of blasting your temper on your juniors." I looked at him with a smile that was half-genuine, disappointed at his reactions. "That's improper for an Elite Operator such as yourself."
"It's a bother." He snarled at me, his expression trying to hide that he was affected by the recent incident. "And keep your students from breaking my stuff."
"That aside, how did you do that?" I whistled. "Even with the similarities our arts possess due to being relics of the ancient past, territorial control through provisional mediums isn't part of my capabilities in using my race's arts."
"Confidential." He shut me down. "Equivalent exchange, right?"
My eyes twitched. "R-really?" He was referring to the fact that since our first meeting, I had refused to talk about my arts. "Surely, even a single hint could suffice for a caster as great as you, right?"
"There's this called—what was it, again?" He mused a bit, holding his chin while narrowing his eyes in an exaggerated way. And as if something popped in his mind, his mouth exhibited an 'o' shape. "Ah yes, the mysterious, blood-red arts you ignored elaborating whenever someone tried to ASK." He emphasized the last word.
"Haha, you're giving me too much credit," I responded with strained laughter. "There's nothing to learn much from mine, but maybe it would be better if I can improve my inferior arts with some tricks or two to be as entertaining as yours."
His stare was almost as cold as the mountains I used to live on. He approached me by the counter, a proxy battle of intimidation occuring. "I appreciate that you hold Sarkaz Witchcraft to that contempt, but there's nothing wrong with adding an arsenal of flashy arts for props," he sneered as Steward tried to fit in the gap between us when he brought the rice cooker for serving, "Might be good for the kids, you see?"
Never in my life have I been tempted to eviscerate a person in front of me.
"Stand down, you two! You're being immature for professional employees of Rhodes Island." Two wolf ears perked up to my sight. I was confused for a moment why, until I realized that the counter was probably blocking the rest of the person. "Especially you, Operator Logos."
He scoffed as he walked over "Yeah, right."
"Sussurro?"
Sussurro, a medical student from Siracusa, was one of the doctors who administered my treatment after I was found unconscious and severely malnourished along the borders of Leithanen. The last of my kind, I was kept in utmost secrecy for my protection, and the only contact I had with the outside world was the Lupo. Despite the fact that I refused to answer the doctor's queries, she was assigned to monitor my condition while having to endure the never-ended questions I had for her to assess my current situation.
In one of the conversations we had, she mentioned that she disliked the cafeteria food because of the synthetic products used and the lack of flavor that resulted from the scarcity of seasonings for mass production. After realizing we shared complementary interests, I offered to cook for her every day, and through a series of events she became my first tester besides Operator Logos.
"Yes, Operator Ren?" I cringed inside.
I still don't remember why I gave myself that codename during my application in the HR Department. I have to admit that every time somebody calls me that, a part of my soul evaporates out of my body from sheer embarrassment. Glad that I've got used to it enough to the point that I could hide my reaction as naturally as I breathed.
"How did you get inside?" I said.
"I went inside with Reserve Team A4," she replied, not a hint of deceit.
"Eh? How come we failed to notice?" Adnachiel squinted.
"I did," Ansel answered him. "There was no reason to say she was here earlier, if you're asking why I kept silent."
"Oh." There was an abrupt halt to the conversation.
This is getting awkward. To be honest, small talk wasn't my open salvo at all since my interaction with others always revolved on discussions about mutual interests. One-sided interest doesn't really work at all since it would be me either losing focus if I wasn't interested, or the other person becoming uneasy. Maybe an excuse should be great to spare them from the awkwardness coming in a short while.
"Sensei?" Perfect timing. "Can you check on the stew if it's almost done?"
"Coming right up." I backed away from the two, who looked like they were starting a conversation without me. I noticed that the potatoes and other vegetables were already added.
"Cutter, get a portion with the ladle then taste it. Then tell me what you think."
She dipped a piece of meat from the simmering pot then chewed it. "The meat is still firm. I can chew it, but the meat is easily separated. The fibers are juicy, but lack saltiness."
"Secondary breakdown, huh," I pressed my lips together. Was really hoping for the meat to be perfectly tender, to be honest. "A bit overcooked, but I guess it will do for now. You can add the herbs now, Cutter."
Gummy was already carrying the plates and utensils in Melantha's stead, who was still comforting the traumatized Cardigan.
"Remember what I taught you earlier, Cutter. Marjoram, Dill and Basil should be added closer to the end to preserve their flavour," I told the Vulpo, who had a new ladle on her hand. "Add the portions that I've prepared, then gently mix."
"Then add some salt and pepper, depending on your taste. Start with a dash."
"Why don't you do it, Sensei?"
"Quite simple." I had a tight-lipped smile. "I can't judge the gravy well while it's hot. I usually depend on smell, texture, and previous records of measurements."
Her lips curved downwards and proceeded to go with what I directed her. She filled part of the teaspoon with salt, much to my relief.
As I believed she would finish it on her own accord, I went to the still-devastated Cardigan, her captain and best friend trying in vain to snap the Perro back to reality.
Did Operator Logos really have to frighten Merry like that? Although I could understand considering how much value he placed on a simple chair, especially with the history behind it. Yet why leave it outside of the room like a trophy without precautions?
Can't argue that she got what was coming for her, but this was overkill for an inexperienced operator who barely had a year in combat experience.
As I crouched to her height, I gestured for Melantha to step aside. Her ears drooped to the ground, and there was no indicator of her acknowledging my presence. Catatonia?
I poked her right shoulder. Her body trembled.
Assuming that she could still react to external stimuli, yet not direct ones meant some sort of dissociation while being under an anxiety attack. Well, I guess it's time to get a bit more serious and mature.
I took a deep breath. Mother mode activated, I guess.
"Merry, it's me. Sensei." Her distant eyelids started to focus when she heard a voice that came from me, yet so uncharacteristic from her laid-back Sensei that surprised her. The voice was similar to the scent of cherry blossoms drifting through the evening's breeze of springtime. "Operator Logos really went overboard on you Merry, didn't he?"
I embraced her. The sudden contact sent her body trembling all over for an instant, before loosening her tense shoulders when she recognized the warmth that emanated from me. The still tail behind her stiffed in a straight line.
Stroking her head with a light touch, I comforted the once-cheering Merry, her ears perking up from the contact. "You're safe, now. No one's gonna hurt you." Her expression was hidden from my sight as she embraced me tighter. In silence, we sat there a while, the others busying themselves with setting the table.
After some time, she loosened her hold on me and backed away. A slight pang of disappointment made its way in my chest, yet I paid it no mind as Cardigan, whom I saw the face now, flashed an energetic grin.
"Sensei, you don't need to worry about me anymore! I'm fine now, you see?! That incident earlier only gave me a slight scare—not enough to shatter the passion of this Cardigan, though!"
The fact that her smile didn't reach her amethyst eyes never escaped my notice. There was a slight desire to push the issue, but as their 'sensei' or as the title they like to call me with, it is beyond my right to pry more. I guess I'll have to make do with what I've got.
"Yeah, I can see that." I replied with a mirthful shrug.
Afterwards, we went to the table, where the others were waiting for us. Unlike the awkward atmosphere that I expected due to the earlier incident, they were interacting with the others as if it was the usual lunch. My colleagues separated themselves into groups depending on the topic of their interest
Steward was in a discussion with Operator Logos—a peculiar combination that surprised me, since it was the first time they had directly spoken with each other. I can only assume that they were talking about the latter's arts. Adnachiel was grimacing with the influx of information traded between the two—enough to mislead an average onlooker that the said Sankta had average intelligence. But the fact that he continued to listen while his grimace softened as time passed by, was an indicator of his extraordinary adaptation—a testament to his prowess as an acclaimed genius.
Ansel and Sussurro shifted around their seats, in an excited conversation about a recent breakthrough in the medical department. From what I heard by their muffled voices, they discovered a blood sample with the ability to ingest malignant originum particles through endocytosis. The medical terms I've overheard them saying provoked a wave of nostalgia within me, a remnant of the distant past I had when I was still interested in medicine.
"Sensei? Sensei?! Terra to Sensei, are you there?" Cardigan shook my arm, snapping me from my thoughts. "Come on, Sensei—Melantha's waiting for us! No time to delay."
She locked my elbows with hers as Melantha timidly raised her hand for us from the furthest seat in the table. We sat down besides her, across from where Cutter was in a daze, much to our slight discomfort.
I noticed that Gummy was missing from the rowdy crowd that gathered around the table. "Oh, where's Gummy?"
"She said she was going to eat with her friends before leaving…" she trailed off, "Sorry for not reminding you in advance, Sensei…"
"You do not have to mind, Melantha. You did a great job letting us of our own accord and reserving our seats in advance."
"Eh? Huh?" Her eyes shifted left and right in discomfiture as her ears grasped my compliment.
My mouth let out an exhale, eliciting a feeling of composure as I assured her. "Do not let your eyes fool you. Oftentimes, the smallest of things contribute to the greater change, even if it is as simple as courtesy or polite gesture."
"O—oh."
Her frown curved into a neutral gesture. But if one had a trained eye, they could see the furthest edges twitching upwards slightly under the not-so-visible line that formed under her cheeks. " How silly…" Her lips caressed as she whispered beyond the perceptible complexion.
As her musings reached my ears, I neglected to notice them, and instead focused on engaging the people around the table. When the sound of a resounding clap reached their ears, all eyes focused on me, and the noisy atmosphere weakened until I could only hear the constant patter of wood.
A display of impatience presented itself when one of my colleagues tapped the table by using their index fingers, demonstrating more eagerness and excitement. An aroma consisting of the fragrance of various herbs seeped out of the covered pot, emitting a drool from a certain Perro.
Adnachiel started distributing the plates, the melody of ceramic and metal entwine, surrounding the warm, cozy place in place of the dining table as we were all united under the banner of relishing good food. Not to say that the cafeteria's menu wasn't great, but homemade was definitely a huge upgrade to the synthetic ingredients and condiments they use.
Even the intimidating Elite Operator became lax when The tang of stew, potatoes, and rice let themselves into their nostrils when the pots were opened for serving.
"Haaaaaaaaa…!"
I watched as each of my colleagues gave off their own sound of pleasure and excitement when they all scrambled to take a serving of stew, ignited by fiery competition and gluttony to get the most out of this lunch. Their burning desires and impulses were intensified by the tempting aroma of savoury and gravy.
As expected of the person with the most combat experience between my colleagues, Operator Logos snatched the ladle before anyone else, and dipped generous amounts of gravy and meat in his plate.
All eyes snapped at him, a fog of intimidation forming atop the table, regardless of how respected he was among the Elite Operators of Rhodes Island. He paid no heed as he pounded his fork into the table akin to a gourmet master, and slid into a dip. Steam radiated from the spoonful, and he had to puff or risk scalding his mouth. In such circumstances, a simple burn will slaughter his appetite in an instant like flicking a candle with a finger.
The previous competition ceased to exist when curiosity grew from minds alike. Silence erupted when a spoonful of rice and stew entered his mouth, people eagerly awaiting his reaction. A slurp, followed by pronounced anticipation, did keep onlookers on waiting as he fell into quiet stupor.
And then, the acclaimed Sarkaz Caster nodded.
"Alright!" Someone yelled in delight, and arms plunged like a hail of arrows into the fortress-standing pot.
A random thought came into my mind, musing further.
Will there even be a share left for me after they ravaged the pot?
Well, time will tell. For now, it wouldn't be so bad to enjoy how their smiles blend with the stark backdrop of a normal lunch hour in Rhodes Island.
Wait, did I just hear a spoon slicing through thin air?
My lips widened as I gazed at them, not minding how the stew gradually lost its volume until the rowdy crowd settled down.
It did not take too long for the temporary silence to be disrupted, though.
"Operator Ren." I looked left to where the voice was. Sussurro was looking at me eye-to-eye. Or was trying to. It was cute how she had to raise her head upwards to see me face-to-face. "We need to talk."
I was puzzled for a bit. "Well, you don't need to be that direct about it. I'm not going anywhere."
"No." She shook her head. "Warfarin has compromised your identity, violating the terms of agreements between you two."
"I already knew that. Ansel told me."
"No. This is a gross underestimation. Considering that Warfarin was loud enough to attract the attention of multiple doctors, I wouldn't be surprised if word came out of the Medical Department by now."
"I kind of… figured the whole extent, to be honest." My mouth lopsided into a half-grimace. "This is fairly simple compared to predicting the machinations of the aristocrats in the early days of the revolution."
"As expected of one of the Three Wise Men, you do not disappoint." I let out an exasperated sigh from her reply. "But that's not what I wanted to talk with you about."
"I'm all ears."
"Aside from the fact that there are circulating rumors that the last Winterwisp is freeloading in a pharmaceutical company," she said, my body gulping from the indirect mention about my time in Rhodes Island, "Detailed peer-reviewed research on the originum assimilation rate of infected blood samples submitted by the acclaimed Dr. Blood has broken the previously-held boundaries of human life expectancy and is now considered the discovery of the millennium by many research institutions."
"Wow, that's great, I guess." I scratched my head, unaffected due to the lack of understanding on the significance of the study. "How does it involve me, though?"
She responded with a dead-eye stare that screamed 'Really?'.
"It involves you, the recipient of the blood sample Warfarin has used for the study."
Oh...
My jaw dropped. "Shit." I whispered.
"Language and unprofessional conduct!"
"Come on, what's that supposed to mean?!" I breathed forcefully into her ear.
"As the current situation is critical, I can understand and excuse you for it. But you need to take this seriously."
My teeth grinded against each other. "I'm more than serious."
"You aren't taking this calmly like you always do."
Because you're not seeing the whole perspective, Sussurro. I doubt you'll even understand the surface of it if I did explain to you.
There would definitely be a lot of problems that would interfere with my mission here on Rhodes Island. Ignoring the fact that I was now a top-wanted specimen across the various research institutions on Terra, or the fact that Kal'tsit might be sending Mon3tr to who knows where after we did this all on her back, this will really take a huge dent on my credit rating in the Human Resources Department.
A low credit rating is an absolute nightmare to a person like me, who's supposed to recruit important people to help in the revolution against the aristocrats. The less I have, the fewer facilities I am allowed to enter. It also means that I'm not authorized to visit vital figures such as the 'Phantom of the Opera', or factions such as the Glassgow Gang. Such a thing happening would render my first month gathering information about the hierarchical structure of Rhodes Island, be in vain.
And Warfarin here, Warfarin there, Warfarin everywhere!
Why is it always Warfarin?! Then the next thing I know is that Warfarin is involved with trouble back in the homeland. Which is logically impossible at the present moment, but something that wouldn't be surprising if I ever found out.
"Getting back to the topic at hand and just to clarify, how did you find out?"
"Fairly evident." She paused, taking a bite from her plate. Her eyes widened for a moment, prior to coughing and reverting to her trademark poker face. "You're the only one insane enough to accept Warfarin's contract. And there are public archives mentioning your agreement since Warfarin signed under the sponsorship of Rhodes Island."
I mean, I knew those already. But I was under the assumption that laws and international agreements pertaining intellectual rights and privacy acts involved confidentiality. Damn, it was reckless of me to assume that Terra's international affairs are the same with my prior world. Shows how much behind Leithania is regarding extra-continental connections.
Although the center of the reason why I wasn't able to foresee this scenario happening was because I didn't really believe my blood was THAT special. Only that I was desperate for the best personal, proper intensive care for some people, and catching the eye of one of Terra's best doctors was more than enough to fetch a contract in my favor.
Guess that's why Skadi was placed under a restraining order by the Head of the Medical Department himself, and Warfarin was smart enough not to tell Kal'tsit her findings on my blood which was left unnoticed by other personnel. It speaks for her exceptional observational abilities, but also her tendency to be unethical amongst the doctors of Rhodes Island.
My plate was still empty since I had put aside my appetite to focus on the conversation with Sussurro. "How much time do I have left until the other doctors in the medical department find out?" I asked her, wanting to hear her assessment on damage control.
"Barely—information travels faster than the speed of light. You'd be downright stupid if you think there's any chance they're willing to ignore a study of this magnitude," she stated, her eyes narrowing as she resisted eating more, "You're lucky that Warfarin never mentioned your name, or Rhine Lab and Columbian institutions would be knocking on our door right away."
"Specifics of the report?"
I needed to know in order to fill in the gaps of the contingencies I formed in my mind. It was as well to predict as to what measures possible adversaries will take in order to secure me. And maybe—just maybe, there can be something in that report that could help me master my arts and gain enough understanding to know the nature of the Ancient Winterwisp Arts from a scientific perspective.
"A person without medical training would find the details too long to comprehend under a normal lunch. I didn't even finish reading the details," she admitted, much to my chagrin. "Having only heard about it a few days before it went mainstream, and filling in absentees due to a recent incident in the department occupied all of my free time, I did not have time to read the rest of the report. You can ask the expert yourself later when you check on your squad, like you do as always."
Upon hearing her words, my visage, pressured by internal stress from comprehending unforeseen consequences from my poor decisions, released all tension. My cheeks softened, dimples disappearing from my face, and my eyelids slowly rose up as my eyes grew distant. The lips that were gritting out of an emotional outburst transformed into a ghost of a smile, evoking emotions that were contrary to its purpose.
"How are they?" I asked her with a gentle voice, indifferent to my previous emotional state just moments ago.
I saw the Lupo's lips move, forming words that weren't caught by my ear. Yet it was quite simple to interpret by sight alone, and the message it expressed was enough to assure the constant worry I had ever since I joined Rhodes Island a month ago. It left a warm feeling inside my chest, relief flowing through the foggy entrails of my mind.
"I'm looking forward to seeing them."
I am not sure if it was Sussurro's intention to mention them in order to relieve my stress, as she gave no indication that it was her intention. However, if it was her intention, then I appreciate it. The same couldn't be said for the others who were in their own world, though, shattering the serious atmosphere I was in.
"Hey!" Shrill echoes of surprise and shock emanated from across the table, where the Cautus bishoujo was resisting an array of spoons and forks alike as the clashing of metal gave life to excitement to onlookers such as me. He parried one that came underneath his arms, and grabbed knives and forks that sneaked under the guise of silhouettes to steal his food.
"That's my food you're taking! Stop it!"
"But Sensei gave the permission to take half your servings earlier," a mischievous voice answered him back. "So come on, scurry up like the good boy you are!"
"Oh come on, he was just joking, right?!" Ansel asked me, who was uncaring of the situation. I cocked my head in apparent confusion, provoking his ire. He jerked as pulling his plate backwards, followed by a streak of metal that slipped into the spot where the plate used to be. "Melantha, you too?!"
The firm tone that used to be fragile and hesitant, responded with passion. "My apologies, but his words cannot be disputed." Brief, but confident. Passionate, yet focused. That's Melantha for you without her insecurity issues.
"Adnachiel, you take this half. And I'll take the other half."
"Ok, but please leave enough for our teacher to enjoy."
Adnachiel and Steward were taking most of the potatoes behind the scene without remorse since Ansel was too preoccupied to stop them. The literal mountains of golden-brown and green sprouting on their plates implied that they didn't hold back heisting Ansel's share.
"Aaaaagh!" The declaration was meant to be a battle cry, but instead came across as a child's tantrum. "At least he never said that I'm not allowed to defend my territory of rights!"
You're right, Ansel. I did.
But you never heard me saying that I won't be involved with their jest, so please excuse me for this simple act of mine.
Absent-mindedly, I tapped the table with my right finger, a deep, resounding rumble ringing within the thin fibers of the wooden table. I channeled my arts within, motivated by an internal desire to troll Ansel further.
Ansel's plate blasted upwards to the air above, much to his confused expression. In an unfocused stare, as if a fuse in his head had blown, he gazed at nothing. It didn't take too long until the gravy started to spill from his plate mid-air that his eyes slowly widened. His hands scrambled to catch the perfectly horizontal plate in the air on the verge of inclining due to air resistance.
The delayed response he had wasn't missed by the grinning face of a certain, mischievous Perro. She gleamed, her eyes forming stars on the blob of stew mid-air, inches above the plate Ansel was distracted with. And she blasted off from her seat, her spoon scooping the meat with moderate success. She wasn't satisfied yet when she went for another one despite the incident lasting for a microsecond.
So when the plate finally met ground when Ansel descended the plate to the table, the sight of his stew tampered made him clench his jaw in a fit of rage. Melantha used that momentary rage to scoop another serving under his nose, adding insult to injury. I suppressed a giggle, though it wasn't missed by Ansel's furious glare.
"I know you were the one who threw my plate into the air!" he accused me, pointing his finger.
"Oh," I leered, clapping once, "Evidence, if you may do so."
The Cautus made a choking noise. "How the hell would I know?!"
Boy do I enjoy adding fuel to the fire. "I dunno. That means innocent until proven guilty, I guess." I innocently gazed at him, exaggerating my smile in order to spite him further.
"Perhaps you could explain that hand motion of yours before that… little accident." The Sarkaz, who was in the stupor of relishing his meal, quipped in.
"Aha!" Ansel's ears twitched upwards, his tone confident as he slammed the table. "I knew it was you!"
Damn you, Operator Logos! I'll make sure that you get the worst deck when I'll be the dealer later with Outcast and the gang!
"Got caught, yikes." I jeered at him, letting my tongue out. However, to my utter confusion, he responded with a grin instead. For every second that passed, my mood went from an amused look to one that showed genuine stupefaction.
The only thing that was on my mind as I waited for Ansel to show the expected expression I had in mind was, "?"
"Well, if you don't mind…" He stood up on his chair, smirking at me. "I'll be getting this instead!" He jumped off his seat and took my plate away from me before I could even react. He sat down, munching down my share of the food without even a trace of guilt, his face smirking at me the entire time.
"Woah!" Cardigan exclaimed as she looked at Ansel with flashing eyes. "Ansel, that was amazing! To think that you could catch Sensei by surprise!"
I was not surprised. Seriously.
"I guess that's fine." I murmured, while pouting in defeat.
Ansel's ears jerked, his hands tugging on his earlobe. "What was that again?"
I just smiled at him, earning his ire again as he twitched his eye in irritation. Inside my mind, I was celebrating a small victory.
"Secret—"
AU: Aaaaaand…. I'm finally done! Just in time to release this for Eyjafjalla's birthday! After a gruelling month of edits and adding sections, while writing one hell of an outline that is as long as 47 pages!
Btw, sorry if it took a month for me to write this. I'm a slow writer who depends on motivation, you see? And if you're confused on why Eyjafjalla's still not in the story, she'll enter it once I'm done with 'An Ordinary Day in Rhodes Island', an introductory arc featuring my OC and his motivations. It was supposed to be a single chapter tbh, but I kinda gave up midway and turned this into an arc after I reached 7k words and realized that I only wrote 10% of the outline I had for ***** Chapter 1. Please help me brainstorm or fix this issue since I fear that it'll reach 50k words before I even get to the second arc, lmao.
Btw, this won't be a goddamn harem. I dislike that kind of stuff. I want a realistic journey for my SI-OC while portraying the struggles of balancing a normal life and his duty as a revolutionary leader in self-exile. This will also be a veeeeeerrrrryyyyyyy long project, maybe even reaching 300k words, idk.
And as usual, I'm accepting all forms of criticism. I won't tolerate others persecuting those who gave their brutally honest opinion, also.
Cya~
- Dr. Otonashi Ren
A/A/N: Also seeking beta-readers and co-conspirators for the plot~ Just PM me if ya interested