Ink on Paper

Written by Whimsical Symphony

So, I actually got around to writing the second chapter. Thanks to everyone who read this. Again, I'm not certain when my next update will be. Real life has sort of gotten in the way. The asterisk in this marks the beginning and end of Elsa's rant. I applaud you if you can get through all of it.

EDIT 14/11/2014: Fixed the errors that were sloppy and I never got around to fixing. Also changed Elsa's dialogue a bit and made it so her speech pattern is more consistent. Otherwise, everything else is the same.

Chapter II – A Letter of Just Appeasement

During her break at work, Elsa visited Mana at the Relaxation Lounge. Only Letter Bees went, and she hoped none would be there now. Mana became her friend, only because of the vast amounts of time she spent in the library, how little sleep she ran off of, and how stressed she became as a result. The woman knew just what herbs to use to relax her, knew just how to calm her down. She did have quite a sweet disposition.

And Elsa admired her resilience very much, continuing with a scientific career without the slightest bit of sight left in her eyes. She went completely blind, and yet her curiosity still drove her beyond lengths not even the average person would attempt to surpass.

"Ah, come to visit me, Elsa?" Mana Jones asked when she heard Elsa enter the lounge. Somehow, she always knew it was her too, despite her never saying anything first.

"How did you know it was me, Mana?" Elsa asked, amazed with the young woman in front of her. "You always seem to know…"

Mana looked at her, as if surprised she'd asked such a thing. Most people avoided the topic of her sight in general, deeming it a sensitive topic. But since she knew Elsa, the woman always spoke her mind, no matter how socially untactful. She found it odd, even disliked it occasionally, but now, she was grateful that the woman didn't treat her differently due to her blindness.

"Oh, well, you always have the scent of ink on your clothes, as if you've been writing and reading. And, occasionally, you have the scent of Sandra Gobani's bread on you. That's how I know." Mana told her matter-of-fact, and promptly got some herbs and oils, and various ingredients to relax her. "Sit then, and we can talk." She gestured towards the couch facing the table while she moved about the room, moving this and that, to get things ready.

"I see, your sense of smell truly is wonderful." Elsa laughed and sat on the couch, one leg crossed over her other. "Who says you need sight when you have a sense of smell like that, and hearing too."

Mana simply smiled and sat down beside her after setting up the apparatus. Immediately her muscles relaxed as the scent of flowers, green meadows, a life only possible if they had sun, filled her nose, travelled through her – an etherizing incense.

"You work miracles, Mana. I feel so wonderful already…" she trailed off, closing her eyes an basking in this new experience.

"Nice? It's a combination of Resinbalm, Helenseed and Pine Needles. All are studied for their relaxing qualities." Mana looked at the woman who drowned in the scents of all three herbs. She appeared to be thinking about something – she always did, really, always lacking sleep because of such an overactive mind. "What are you thinking of?"

Elsa looked at her and frowned. "I remembered that I told Jiggy Pepper that I'd never once received a letter before, couldn't understand truly why people felt such joy when getting one. I don't know what I was thinking – I must have made him quite uncomfortable, inviting him to eat with me a while ago."

Elsa looked at the expression on Mana's face settle slightly into a strange sort of disbelief before it dropped entirely. Mana found herself surprised that someone actually invited Jiggy out and had a real conversation with him. She knew, due to some of his visits at the relaxation lounge, that he was quite caring, quite understanding, but the fact that he spoke few words often obscured that. Despite his lack of words, he wasn't aloof as most people seemed to think.

"Jiggy has a reputation for just being admired from afar," Mana admitted, thinking back to the man she remembered with brown hair and a scar – before her accident, that is. She heard many whispers about him in the halls of the Bee Hive, all admirable of course, but perhaps slightly isolating for him. "He might be thankful for your company."

"He probably thought of me as a strange woman… one who has never received a letter. I can understand why he is admired but not approached though – he does have a bit of an aura that tells others to back away," Elsa mused, remembering that he looked like he always kept to himself. "Regardless, he humoured me and answered my pesky questions. That must mean something."

"You know… what I learned is you'll always be surprised by people. You can't judge. I did that far too soon with Dr. Thunderland… and I never thought Gauche Suede would help me as he did. I would like to thank him one day…" Mana said slowly, remembering that kind Letter Bee whose actions allowed her to keep her job.

For the Head Bee, he said, there was no letter he couldn't deliver: he wanted to be that Bee one day. Mana was also a friend, so he needed to go to those lengths for her. Most would call him a fool, someone who bent over backwards for people. Mana didn't think he'd ever travel that far and back in only a week to deliver a letter, nearly killing himself in the process, and all for someone he barely knew. And he did it all arriving within half an hour of the hearing, a tired smile on his face as he let her and Thunderland hear the good news, all before he collapsed in exhaustion, like a rag doll.

The mood turned somber when thinking about him, how Mana would never be able to thank him.

Neither of them talked after that, deciding to focus on the scent of the herbs instead. Some thoughts were too dark to entertain, too sad. In Amberground, most thoughts treaded into dangerous territory.

When Elsa reached her poor man's home with her poor man's dinner, she really didn't expect Harry, Jiggy's dingo perched outside her windowsill. She knew he'd gone on his Express Bee journeys again, so she had to wonder what his dingo was doing back in Yuusari Central, let alone at her windowsill, pecking the glass a little… well, peckishly, not to go on a punning spree or anything.

Hurriedly, she opened the window, and Harry flew inside, landing on the small desk she often used to work. Then she noticed what Harry had tied to his leg – a scroll of paper.

"For me?" Elsa asked, confused, pointing to herself.

Harry squawked to affirm her conclusion, and also possibly to call her an idiot. Her lips quirked as she thought of how similar Jiggy's dingo was to him. Stretching out his foot idly, Elsa untied the scroll, unraveled it, and found it to be a letter. She began to read with interest, and also, with a strangely warm feeling in her tummy.

Hello Elsa Marchen,

I had a little time at the inn I stayed at and decided to write this letter. How are you doing – still eating bread for dinner?

Probably better than what I eat on the road, anyway. As an Express Bee, good food is a luxury.

I thought about what you said about Gaichuu. Maybe they are sad – only when referring to their fate though. Can't pity something that's just a shell, one that kills a lot of people too. All Letter Bees shoot heart bullets, and enough and we'd become like Gaichuu, sort of – no memories or anything. That's always a fear.

Every time I go to Yodaka, I remember how hard it was to adjust to Yuusari. The sun's so far away here. You can barely see it. And the number of Gaichuu compared to Yuusari can't be compared. You'd know, wouldn't you?

To be honest, I don't know why I wrote this. I don't write many letters – I only deliver them. You can probably see from this that I'm not good with 'interacting with people' like you said about yourself. I'm not good with words. Anyway, I hope that you get something from reading this letter. Maybe I just wanted you to know what getting a letter felt like.

Take care until next time,

Jiggy Pepper

P.S If you want to send me one back, feel free. Harry knows my entire delivery schedule, though it'd probably be better to give him something to eat before you let him go.

"So… this is what receiving a letter feels like," Elsa mumbled to herself, holding the paper closed to her. "Thank you, Jiggy Pepper."

A smile spread across her lips, knowing now she'd discovered something new, now she finally knew what getting a letter felt like. Perhaps now she'd start to understand why Letter Bees risked their lives in order to deliver these pieces of paper. The letter seemed more open than how he spoke in real life. Somehow, Elsa knew he'd enjoy talking more on paper than in real life. He really wasn't good with words, not at all, but it still seemed like him. He was honest, to a fault, couldn't just say he felt like writing a letter to her – he clearly wanted to just get her to experience that feeling. Surprisingly, Jiggy turned out to be a very caring person. This seemed contrary to what people believed of him due to his standoffishness.

"I will write one back. He went to all this trouble, didn't he, Harry?" Elsa asked the bird, who crowed in reply. She quickly pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and grabbed some bread for Harry to feast on while she wrote. Sitting down in her chair, and tapping on her chin with her pen, she pondered over what to write. "I say I'm better with words than he is, so I'll write a fantastic letter!" She looked determined, but the blank page glared at her intimidatingly, she didn't know how to begin.

Good day Jiggy Pepper, she began, wracking her brain over what to write. Elsa then decided to respond to what he said, as honest as she could manage.

Thank you for sending me this letter. It's my first experience writing one, as well as receiving one. I feel I have learned something new from this, though perhaps a few more exchanges will lead me to find out what I learned. It is a little exhausting, knowing you learned a new tidbit of information, but don't know what you learned. Deceptive and nasty little buggers, always escaping your brain.

And yes, I had Sandra Gobani's bread for dinner. Different variety, just as delicious, and fit for a poor person like myself.

I'm glad my offensive statement caused someone to think. I truly didn't mean that I pity them, only that their fate is sad. They probably weren't like that before. They remind me of the Spirit Insects of ancient times. In fact, it would make sense if eventually, they became Gaichuu – empty bodies searching for a heart they lost. But that's only a theory I have seen proposed by many a scholar. Perhaps I should stay away from history and theory in this letter, wouldn't you say?

It's understandable for Letter Bees to have that fear. Imagine the terror of becoming like those you fight. It reminds me more to mention to you to stay safe, Jiggy Pepper. I wouldn't like to see you lose your heart. Especially not so because you prove so amusing, and so caring to send me this letter. Fight, but don't overexert yourself, yes?

Yodaka was always dark, no sunlight at all. Yuusari is quite different and it feels almost homey and comfortable where Yodaka provided no such comforts, couldn't truly. I found it quite difficult to adjust too, and I nearly always stared at the artificial sun in the distance, so much closer where it felt as if I could reach out and touch it. But of course, Amberground doesn't work that way. It is unfortunate that the light is only for those in the capital. I do not understand why such terrible class divides exist.

You seem quite good with words to me, provide some good information to talk about. I appreciate this gesture of yours. I now know what receiving a letter feels like. Perhaps with more time, I will understand why Bees risk their lives, and how happy simple exchanges can make me. I do hope you bring me more joy, Jiggy Pepper.

Thank you, and be safe,

Elsa Marchen

P.S Harry also quite enjoyed Mrs. Gobani's bread.

She signed the letter and looked at the words with a critical eye, and noticed a terribly embarrassing flaw. The last paragraph sounded almost like… flirting. Shaking her head, Elsa decided that she probably imagined things, and if he did in fact take it as flirting, she'd pass it off as the – 'well, I've fallen for you', joke again.

Taking a small bit of twine from her stationary drawer, she turned to Harry who finished his meal, and began to tie the letter to his leg. Then, she scratched the dingo on the head with a small smile.

"Be safe, Harry. You are quite a sweet bird," Elsa told him. "I do hope you found the bread satisfying."

Harry crowed once in response and flew out the open window into the night to deliver the letter to Jiggy. Elsa watched the bird fly until his form became too small to distinguish among the grey clouds in the dark sky.

Jiggy didn't know what possessed him to write that letter – he'd been honest about that. He never considered himself a generous soul, and he didn't know Elsa Marchen well either. He supposed that Lag Seeing rubbed off on him a little, saving his little sister and all, going to such lengths for everyone he delivered a letter to. He didn't really care all that much, but just the look on Elsa's face when she said she'd never gotten a letter before got to him. Maybe he was getting soft for taking pity on her like that. He wrote whatever came to mind, and nothing useful. And for someone who wanted to know well he wondered if she found what she sought.

He wondered if it all started in the last town he'd been in – Lunar Town, a small town on the outskirts of Yodaka, aptly named for its near inability to see the artificial sun, even worse, darker and more isolated than the regular areas in Yodaka. Jiggy delivered a letter to a Sara Johnson, a young lady who took the letter he delivered with tears in her eyes, so happy, that smile so wide.

"Thanks, Mr. Letter Bee, you see, this is from my brother. He wanted to be a doctor, and after he studied, he went around from town to town helping everyone…" she explained slowly, her smile wavering slowly. "I told him it was reckless with all the Gaichuu wandering about. He just said he wanted to help people. It's nice hearing he's still safe. I don't know what I'd do without Letter Bees like you to help me find out what's up with my brother and I don't know what I'd do without letters. I feel such joy every time I get one. Thank you."

That last sentence really hit him when he answered, "No problem. Hope your brother's doing well."

She said she didn't know what she'd do without Letter Bees or letters because she felt joy when she got them. Idly, he thought about Elsa Marchen who said she'd never before received a letter, so she couldn't know.

Perhaps in a rare show of warmth he decided to write one and get Harry to deliver in. Maybe she'd know then that letters brought joy, or even sadness depending on the heart of its sender. He wondered what Elsa saw when she read his letter. He hadn't been thinking anything in particular when he brought pen to paper and wrote whatever came to mind, a jumble of words, not artistic in the least.

But Jiggy felt that she did get something from his letter, when he rested at the next town he delivered letters at. Harry found him outside the inn, letter tied to his foot. Jiggy undid the letter and unraveled the roll of paper, looking from word to word, finding it almost exactly like how she spoke. Just as formal, just as constructed, though honest with all its lies.

Jiggy noticed many things about people from the way they portrayed themselves. Like, Lag was sensitive, if a bit weak because of his naivety, but he always would push himself to help people. A child version of Gauche Suede, he often thought of him as.

Just like that, he learned many things about Elsa when he read her words, both obvious things, and more subtle things.

She thanked him, because she wrote a letter for the first time, strung words together of her own accord, and in that, he realized experiences and knowledge were highly important to her.

She let him know that she did in fact have Mrs. Gobani's bread for dinner.

She proved yet again that she really was a bookworm, with all the theories she read about surrounding Gaichuu and myth, old folklore too.

She cared for his well-being, though to her, only because he was amusing, and that itself proved again that she was untactful, but refreshingly honest.

She truly was from Yodaka if she wanted to touch the artificial sun, and unlike most people, she spoke honestly about how terribly Amberground functioned with the poor on the outskirts and the rich near the sun.

She really did like to joke, and didn't have a bit of shame even though it seemed like she was flirting with him.

"So, you enjoyed the bread, Harry?" Jiggy asked his dingo, while sitting on the bed of his inn room. He saw from the twitch of his dingo's wings, that he did. "A poor person can afford other meals but bread…" he trailed off. Really, why bread – despite all the analyzing he'd done of her letter, the most curious had been the response she gave him when he asked.

"Not everyone can afford a good dinner, Jiggy Pepper, even in Yuusari. I'm from Yodaka. It's a given that I grew up poor – don't let my clothes fool you."

She was a weird woman, he decided, dealing with bread when economical, cheap options for food existed, and healthier options than bread.

Elsa washed the empty beer mugs at the sink – rinse, soap, scrub, rinse again – and repeat for the next mugs and plates to wash. She hummed a familiar tune to herself, a tune she once heard Aria play on her lovely violin. She worked at the bar for a second job to make enough for rent each month. Not being the richest person at all in Amberground, much more on the poor end, two jobs were needed to make ends meet.

Even if she didn't like working at the Yuusari Local Pub. Generally, she minded her own business, but as a server, it came to her responsibility to talk to people sometimes. Usually people who came to this pub were depressed, ordered a pint of beer, then asked for more hard liquor on top of that, moaning and groaning about their problems.

She could deal with it. After all, everyone got sad sometimes, and what way to go than alcohol? She could relate, well, if she bothered to spend money on alcohol at all. She didn't exactly have the funds for it.

But the worst part of this bar was the gossip. Drunk people talked – a fact of life – and revealed their innermost feelings about everything. Usually, the gossip didn't harm anyone, and usually consisted of insults to the girl at the office everyone liked to hate, or how so-and-so cheated on their significant other, why John Doe didn't pay child-support, or why Jane Doe was fired by her boss. Harmless gossip. But she found the most common topic people liked to talk about was the Bee Hive – perhaps not the Bees in question, but she learned from this place that people did dislike the Bees, despite the way they risked their lives for everyone.

And that caused men and women alike to speak spitefully about them, as if just anyone could do their job.

"Those Letter Bees've got nuthin' special 'bout them!" a man hiccupped, clearly drunk. Elsa heard him speak, and looked at his group. They consisted of him, a pot-bellied, balding man, though clearly having quite a bit of money judging by his wrinkle-free suit – a young man and woman, a couple, the woman in a scanty red dress and the man with too much product in his hair, and last, another man who clearly didn't want to be there, but nodded at what the balding man said. An odd, distasteful group of people. "Anyone can do what they do! They're mail-men an' they get such paychecks?"

"You're right, aren't you, Father? I hear they have no minimum age either! Their youngest Bee is twelve years old! If a twelve year old can do that, so can any remotely capable adult!" the woman said, with a small, mocking smile. "Then even I can apply to become a Letter Bee."

"Preposterous, charging so much money for a simple delivery of a letter!" the woman's rich significant other said, with a frown.

"They've got nothing going for them," the last agreed, nodding his head as if he got it all figured out. "I can deliver letters too. No one even needs them really. Heard they're not even good at their jobs. That one guy broke under the pressure once he reached Akatsuki – what an idiot!"

Now, Elsa knew perhaps it wasn't wise, but when they insulted the Bee Hive, they insulted her since she worked there, even if not as a Bee. Quickly getting the dishes they ordered from the kitchen area, she made her way to them and placed down the pasta, the sandwich, the salad and the soup to the fat man, the woman, her significant other, and the bored man respectively.

Looking around, she noticed that other customers did send them displeased glances from the way they talked. Elsa smirked, knowing she could use them as support if she got fired for this.

"I heard you all badmouthing the Bees, correct? I know almost everyone can do their job, correct, they're only simple postmen after all," Elsa mockingly agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Right, right, isn't that so? They need to be paid much less, and allow more people to become Letter Bees. Their job is so simple after all," the bored man drawled. "Sure there's a couple monster Gaichuu or whatever, but it's probably easy to avoid them."

His three companions nodded with fervour. Elsa rolled her eyes and said, "What makes you believe their job is easy? Could it be…?" she looked at the bored man with eyes filled with the most sugary, falsest awe she could muster. "You know how to kill Gaichuu?"

"What's special 'bout a Gaichuu? Shoot a couple of those Heart Bullet things in 'em and they're toast. I hear 'bout how they go kaboom as soon as one of those Bees shoots 'em," the fat man drawled and explained using his vast "knowledge".

Elsa put a hand on her hip and smiled slyly. "Don't you know how a Heart Bullet works, mister? Perhaps I shall give you a small lesson here since it appears I do have much more intelligence than an ignorant fool like you, insulting those people who deliver letters!"

Yes, she could thank Jiggy for the verbal lashing she found herself able to give this man. Without him, she'd never know what receiving a letter felt like, and so she'd have no right to talk to anyone about the importance of letter deliveries or Letter Bees. Elsa would be just like she was back then, only knowing theory, not understanding feelings at all. Even now, she didn't understand the complexity of it – only knew that she needed to know, and knowing became the feeling which pushed her forward, curiosity, all of that. She dedicated this rant to Express Bee Jiggy Pepper who taught her a new tidbit of information in such a lovely way.

* "In order to shoot a Heart Bullet, you need spirit amber – a rare gem that formed quite a long time ago when the ancient spirit insects crystallized inside tree resin – you know, like regular amber? However, spirit insects are quite powerful creatures and allow people to channel the powers of their heart in order to destroy Gaichuu – some scholars state they fight with us, as they connect to our hearts. They protect us, even seemingly dead inside these crystallized forms. Each spirit amber does something different. Primarily however," she looked at the bald man, starting to sweat now because of her informational lecture, as did his three companions, "what you need to shoot a heart bullet is a strong heart, and a connection to the spirit amber. You, I think, do not have a strong heart. It's not as if every imbecile who comes along is capable of shooting a heart bullet. Do you know what that means?" The four of them shook their heads and she smirked.

"No," one squeaked, looking at the fearsome woman in awe.

"The Gaichuu would eat your heart. So you see, Letter Bees are needed," she mocked. "Many of the people in Amberground need to send letters to their loved ones who live far away in smaller towns, especially in Yodaka. This phenomenon of smaller towns being contructed rather than big cities for areas further away from the artificial sun is explained by the Gaichuu's love of heart, but also darkness. Naturally, the artificial sun is quite bright, which is why there are no Gaichuu spots near Akatsuki. But a large city in Yodaka would instantly be eaten by Gaichuu who sense such things as it is dark and filled with heart. Small towns and people needing to send letter far away and a Letter Bee's paycheck can be explained using simple economics!"

Elsa's voice steadily rose as she continued to lecture. She noticed now that she'd gotten quite a large audience listening to her, some in shock and disbelief, most though cheering her on for not allowing the four idiots to speak.

"The Letter Bees, however kind, do operate a business. More Letters means more Letter Bees are required, but who would do that without the correct compensation for risking their lives and using their heart? After all, most operate by the Collective Action Problem – a type of thinking wherein people want their letters delivered, but no one wants to deliver them thinking that someone else will do it. As such, for raising the incentive to become a Letter Bee, salary is raised so that more are willing to do it, and even then, I consider it cheap for what they do and I am no wealthy capital citizen. Supply and demand, ignorant fool – more letters means more Letter Bees, and therefore a higher pay to convince them to do it. After all, there is no other way to send your words to other people you love, which means Letter Bees must do it. I hear the first Letter Bee was a person who wanted to send his own letter, and his idea was then adopted by the Amberground Government to create a fully functional postal service." She noticed that she indeed lectured with all the passion she had on the subject, even mentioning irrelevant details. But that couldn't be helped once she got started. Elsa looked at all of them pointedly. "So, would you rather deliver your own letters?" She gestured to the nice clothing they wore. "I would think you of all people wouldn't need to complain about a Letter Bee's paycheck." *

"B-but twelve year olds are doin' it!" the fat man protested, ignoring the rest of what she'd been saying. "An' one of 'em is only interested in Gaichuu! And another only 'bout the money!"

Elsa clucked her tongue when the "audience" around them 'oohed' and 'ahhed' when she finished her speech, and in wonder as to how she'd respond to that. Elsa was quite familiar with the Bees, and knew him to be talking about Lag Seeing, Zazie Winters, and Moc Sullivan.

"Go Lady, show 'em who's boss!" a man whooped excitedly. Best entertainment he'd had in a while, obviously.

"You don't know what you're talking about! What idiot makes a twelve year old fight, and people who don't even care about the letters!" the rich lady screeched, trying to drown out the overly excited random man.

"Lag Seeing, age twelve," Elsa began, completely ignoring the lady and instead choosing walk around a little to gather her words, "finished the Letter Bee exam with the second fastest time recorded at the Bee Hive, only surpassed by one Gauche Suede – instead of waiting for the Gaichuu Glen Keith to retreat like many Letter Bees, he killed it instantly with his Shindanjuu by finding a weak spot in its armor. He and his dingo, Niche make a fantastic team, and he does have quite a high chance at becoming Head Bee one day, with his flawless record. Lag Seeing also cares more about the letters than any other Bee, too softhearted if you ask me. Always becoming teary eyed at letters too, of the stories of Amberground citizens."

She wanted to prove to these four that the Letter Bees they insulted were far more capable than they knew.

"Zazie Winters perhaps does not have an exceptional rate of delivering letters when compared to other Bees," Elsa began, thinking back to the Jiggy Pepper fan, "however, his rate of destroying Gaichuu is one of the best in the Bee Hive. While delivering his letters, he's saved entire towns from Gaichuu attacks. His letter delivery rate is still around 80%, quite good mind you, even if they appear a little dirty once they get to your hands."

"Additionally, Moc Sullivan takes a more professional approach to the Letter Bee job. While he only joined for money, and doesn't care about personal problems, who are you to judge?" Elsa looked at them with a glare. "Moc Sullivan cares more about the condition of letters for his pay. He hardly loses any, and will do anything to protect those letters. His delivery rate is around 92% - not too shabby, hmm?" She smirked when she thought of how they barely could form words anymore, shocked beyond belief. "So, done with your idiotic nonsense now?"

Before she could become more smug about her verbal lashing, she heard her bosses voice. "Elsa Marchen!"

She knew she'd made him angry. Timidly, she made her way to the back room to get a verbal lashing of her own. Thankfully, she did have the support of the people who ate now, a few cheering her on as she prepared herself for some punishment. Strangely, though she knew she would have regretted it normally, she knew she had to defend the Bees.

"Perhaps it's because I know at least a little, the importance of letters," Elsa whispered to herself. "I wonder what he thought of my letter…"