Chapter Nine

The "Real" World

As soon as the final bell tolled in the Prontera Training Grounds that Wednesday afternoon, Joanne bounded out of her classroom and ran through the halls. She leapt into the nearby quadrangle and rushed to the wing three halls down from her own, her bag of school things slung over one shoulder and a small note clutched within the fingers of one hand. The contents of the note were the cause of her hurry this day.

Just before the final period, Joanne received the pleasant shock of seeing Shin-ju pass by her classroom. The boy had greeted her quietly, as though trying to avoid any attention from the other Novices around them, and discreetly slipped a folded note into her hand. After asking her to read it after the final bell, he left without another word.

Naturally, Joanne could not resist herself. Barely ten minutes into the final period, she sneaked a look into Shin-ju's note—and spent the next half-hour holding back the impulse to just pick her stuff up and run out of the classroom before the final bell.

On the note, Shin-ju had written:

Joie,

Please meet me at the Winslow Hall roof deck after today's final bell. I need to talk to you about something. Thanks.

Shin-ju

•••

Shin-ju stared into the grassy fields below the Winslow Hall roof deck, leaning on the parapet with his elbows and forearms. The wind blew through his hair, his new Nomad clothes—and a piece of paper in his hand. It was Mikieru's letter, and he had been bothered by the Cleric's revelation that he would be away for another three months. The boy was detachedly thinking about what to do next that he almost forgot he asked Joanne to meet him here on this roof deck earlier that afternoon.

The sound of footsteps and hurried breathing soon came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder in time to see Joanne running onto the empty roof deck.

"Shin-ju!" Joanne called breathlessly, her fatigue failing to erase the smile on her face.

"Joie, hi," Shin-ju said, leaving the parapet edge and approaching the girl. "Hey, catch your breath… geez, I didn't want you to knock yourself out…"

"It's… to… totally fine, Shin-ju, I…" Joanne stammered between deep breaths, her hands on her knees. "I… was… just… I…"

Shin-ju frowned at her bent-over form, quietly admonishing the girl's brash choice of actions. He took the girl's arm and looped it over his shoulder.

"C'mon, let's move over to the parapet," he said, placing his hand on the girl's waist in support. He did not see the flushed expression that came over Joanne's face when she felt his touch over the thin baby tee she wore.

Shin-ju helped her to the parapet edge. She leaned on the low concrete wall and caught her breath, her arms taking some of the weight off her legs. Shin-ju stood beside her, similarly leaning on the parapet and glancing at her with a grin.

"Sorry," Joanne said, straightening. "I, er… I just thought it was really important, so I came running. So, uh… no club meeting with Ayame today?"

"Not today," Shin-ju answered simply. "She's out doing interviews."

"Oh, okay," Joanne nervously brushed some of her short blonde hair off her eyes, looking around for a moment and seeing no one else was on the hall floor. "So, uh… what did you want to talk about, Shin-ju?"

At this, a smile crept onto Shin-ju's handsome tan face.

"Just this," he said, grinning as he reached into his backpack. "I wanted to give you something to mark the occasion."

Joanne's eyes widened as Shin-ju handed a bundle to her. It was a new brown sweater, with an oversized opening for the head and two yellow zigzags that ran across the torso and sleeves area. It was a piece of Nomad clothing, and she had never seen anything like it before. She slowly looked up, stunned, into the smiling boy's gray eyes.

"Happy Birthday, Joie," he greeted.

She could have jumped up and hugged him right then and there. No one was around to see or mind. Instead she bit back the urge and just reached up and took the sweater in her hands.

"My… birthday?" she asked flatly.

Shin-ju laughed quietly. "Well, remember when we met last week?" he answered. "When I copied your schedule onto my notes, I also copied your birthday. It's June 2 today, if you didn't notice."

Joanne grinned and closed her eyes stupidly, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the back of her head. He was right—it was the second of June today. She had only turned fifteen and she had already forgotten her birthday for the first time in her life.

"Sorry it's just a sweater, though," Shin-ju apologized. "I guess I'll just get you something nicer on your sweet sixteenth."

"No, no—it's perfect," she stammered, trying to keep composed. "Th-thank you, Shin-ju… it's pretty. I'll, uh…"

Then an idea occurred to her.

"I'll go change into it right now," she said with a prankish grin.

Shin-ju's smile disappeared. "Are you serious?"

She giggled, ambling towards a nearby column. "Just turn away for a bit," she teased.

He waited until she disappeared behind the column before turning to look at the football fields below him again. Joanne always came off to him as this inapt, naïve, socially-subdued young girl—being on the receiving end of a teasing jab was such an unfamiliar sensation to him. But at the same time, he was glad to see the two of them becoming chummier as the days passed—and he hoped she felt the same way.

Hidden from Shin-ju's view, Joanne leaned her back on the column, turned her face upwards, and smiled the biggest smile she had ever flashed in her life. Then, cradling the sweater in her forearms, she raised it and pressed it against her face, sniffing the strange earthly scent from the fabric—and the calming scent of Shin-ju's hands with it.

Then, without wasting any more time, she changed into the sweater.

•••

When Joanne peeked from behind the column, she saw that Shin-ju wasn't looking at her direction. His attention seemed focused on the fields below him—or something in his hands. She allowed herself to stare at his back for a few more moments.

It was he, the one she loved, and he was here. It was he, the one she had been waiting to find for two whole years, and he was right in front of her.

As deep as her feelings were for him, she strangely could not find the strength to tell him how she felt—and even at this moment, she didn't know why.

•••

"Um," she chirped after a while. "I'm done."

Shin-ju turned around and looked at her. She was in the sweater, the oversized opening wrapping around her upper arms and exposing her thin shoulders. The straps of a black tank top looped over her collarbones. Shin-ju thought that seeing her bare shoulders and slender neck together made her look even more frail than she already did—but at the same time, prettier.

"How does it look on me?" she asked, a shy grin on her face.

"Nice," Shin-ju said, absently returning the smile. "Really nice. You're… probably the cutest Nomad girl I've seen in a while."

"Really?" Joanne asked, clasping her hands behind her back and strutting towards him with flirty, straight-legged steps. "Are Nomad girls prettier than Northfolk girls, Shin-ju?"

Shin-ju pouted. What a question, he thought to himself, turning instead to look at the letter in his hand again.

After failing to elicit the reaction she expected from him, Joanne nervously walked back to his side, eyeing the piece of paper in his hand.

"What's that, Shin-ju?" she asked.

He sighed. "A letter from my former Master," he answered. "He's going to be in Juno for the next three months, so he can't give me any allowance for the time being."

Joanne's smile disappeared. "No way!" she spat.

"Believe it… I won't have any money for the next three months, unless…"

Shin-ju looked up, as though an idea had occurred to him.

"Unless… what?" Joanne wanted to know.

He looked at her with a smile. "Unless I find some part-time work in the city," he said. "That's it!"

Joanne didn't seem to share his excitement at the idea. "You're kidding!" she said.

"No, I'm not," he answered brightly. "Did I ever tell you I used to work as a janitor at the Constabulary HQ? There's gotta be someplace in the city that needs one of those. It'll be easy!"

She still wasn't convinced. "But Shin-ju, you gotta go to school during the day, and you got your Visor duties on top of that. If you work a part-time job, you'll be all battered and beat-up by the time you get home!"

"Well, it's still better than going to bed hungry, right?" he replied. "Y'know what, I'll go into the city and look for a job right now. I've a feeling something good's gonna happen today."

Shin-ju picked up his backpack and got ready to leave. "So, I'll, uh… I'll take you to your Dorm first?"

His question caught her off-guard, and it took her a moment before she could give a straight answer. "Er—no, no, that's fine, Shin-ju," she said. "I've, uh… I've got other things to do, myself so… r-really, I'll be fine. Thanks."

He frowned. "You sure?"

"Yeah," she answered too quickly. "You go on ahead. I'll be okay."

"Okay," he said, getting ready to leave. "Take care of yourself."

"Yeah," she bade him goodbye. "Good luck. And thanks for the sweater!"

Joanne watched as Shin-ju left the roof deck in a brisk excitement, disappearing as he rounded a corner towards the stairs.

And he's gone again, Joanne thought to herself, sighing. Why did I say no? I could've told him how I felt if I let him walk me to my Dorm, but…

She felt the fabric of her new Nomad sweater on her skin.

That'd be kinda pushing it, though… I guess it's more than enough that he gave me a gift… but still…

•••

"Sorry, we're not hiring Nomads right now."

"Nope, we don't take Nomads."

"A Nomad? Sorry, but we have enough rats in here as it is."

•••

"Rats," Shin-ju griped as he left the doorstep of a store, turned away yet again. He had been going in and out of stores in the northern districts of Prontera, looking for work, for the past two hours—and was not getting any luck. He realized that people were just as leery of his Nomad heritage out in the city as in the Training Grounds.

He walked through the busy streets, his eyes scanning the storefronts for any "help wanted" signs. He was so fixated on trying to find a job before dark that he didn't notice someone following him from behind, watching from a distance.

Joanne peeked from behind a lamppost, disheartened by the difficulty Shin-ju was having in looking for a job. He had been following him since he left the Training Grounds two hours ago, and while her feet were beginning to hurt from all the walking, she resolved to wait until she saw him find some work.

I gotta help him, she thought.

She tailed him as he made his way up a hilly, sparsely-developed district. Several lots in this district were open and undeveloped—they were not very attractive to landowners since the slope poised several problems against building. Nevertheless, Shin-ju pushed through a rickety picket fence into a vegetated lot dotted with wild trees. A sign on the fence had read: "Assistant needed."

•••

"Hmm, now this is unexpected," the middle-aged man drawled, looking down at Shin-ju through thick glasses. "A blue-haired Nomad is at my doorstep looking for work. What kind of work are you looking for in particular, boy?"

Shin-ju fidgeted uncomfortably. He thought that the house in the middle of the lot, a broken-down hovel with several holes in the roof and a kitchen out in the open, looked strange. Now he felt that even the house looked normal compared to the person residing in it.

"I used to work as a janitor, good sir," Shin-ju answered the man, trying not to stare at the man's strange, foreign-looking clothes. "But right now I just need a job. Any job would do."

From behind one of the old oak trees in the vicinity, Joanne peeped and tried to listen in to the conversation. Neither Shin-ju nor the man had noticed her presence.

"Any job, eh?" the man repeated. "Hmm… well, I suppose I cannot be choosy on the matter. It has been almost a month since I put that 'Assistant needed' sign on my gate, and so far you are the only one to have walked past it. Are you sure this is not some prank you teenagers have come to play on an old, retired Alchemist?"

"Er…" Shin-ju began, his eyes perking up at the mention of the man's profession.

"Nay, nay. Forget I asked," the Alchemist said. "As I said myself, I cannot be choosy. What is your name, boy?"

"Shin-ju, sir."

The Alchemist cleared his throat.

"Very well, Shin-ju. I am Kivstalis the Alchemist… former Adviser to the Steward of Al de Baran. Retired. I currently live alone, studying and writing a book on Modern Alchemy. I am in need of a house help, who will assist me in my experiments and works, and who will cook, clean, and wash. Do you think you are up to this?"

By this time, Shin-ju was ready to take any job. "Yes, sir."

"Good," Kivstalis said. "Though there is one more thing you need to know. I am very meticulous, and my patience is very short. I want a perfect job done every single time, no matter what job it is. Should you try to do anything foolish, you will find yourself in a world of fiery, fiery pain. Do I make myself clear?"

Shin-ju swallowed. "Yes, sir."

The scientist opened the door. "Come in, then. Your first task is to sweep the place clean. You'll find a broom hanging on the wall… oh, wait, I believe it is in the closet under the stairs… no, no, wait. I think I accidentally burned that broom last year in one of my experiments… It appears you will have to use your hands to the task…"

Joanne felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of her face as she watched Shin-ju follow the eccentric scientist into the decrepit hovel.

Will Shin-ju be okay? she couldn't help but wonder.

•••

Hiding behind trees, bushes, and rocks, Joanne watched over the next hour as Shin-ju worked. At first the boy caught the attention of the old Alchemist by fashioning a makeshift broom out of a stick, twine, a few twigs, and several long leaves. Then the boy neatly rearranged the tomes in a small portion of Kivstalis's bookshelf—his experiences with Ayame in the Visor clubroom gave him an idea of good file archiving, and the Alchemist could not help but approve of the boy's hard work.

Later, Shin-ju and Kivstalis were at the outdoor kitchen, preparing the Alchemist's dinner. The scientist had grown to like the boy somewhat, and his stern demeanor lightened as the day's chores wore on. Shin-ju thought it was all right for him to ask a question.

"Sir, would you mind if I asked you something?" Shin-ju asked, his hands busy chopping onions and tomatoes.

An audible sniff came from Kivstalis, who was browsing one of his food closets on the other side of the kitchen. "All right," came the man's reply.

"You mentioned that you were once an Adviser to the Steward of Al de Baran," Shin-ju ventured. "Was, uh… was that a long time ago?"

Another huff came from the Alchemist's lips. "Yes, my boy. Almost a decade past."

"You, uh… you said you were retired," Shin-ju continued. "But you barely seem to be older than forty years old."

Kivstalis laughed. "The retirement was self-imposed, if you truly need to know," the scientist said, drawing a bottle of a dark-colored sauce from the closet. "I was made Adviser on the sole fact that I was the only Alchemist of substantial renown in the Machine City back then. But the greater fact remained: I did not like the Steward, and the Steward did not like me."

Shin-ju nodded, pushing a handful of chopped tomatoes aside with the edge of his knife. "The Steward disagreed with you?"

"The Steward was a brat of a man," Kivstalis replied with a hint of hostility in his voice. "All the Stewards were too keen on getting more coal from the Mjolnir Mountain Range, and never paid much attention to the welfare of the citizens and the surrounding villages. This Steward declined to allocate funds for me to step up the establishment of a Local Guard for the Coal City, and instead poured every remaining zenny into the mining industry. I simply got tired of being a figurehead in that blasted political arena… and so I left."

"You left the Steward's Cabinet against his wishes?"

"Disappeared would be a better word," Kivstalis answered with a laugh. "I left that blasted city and took up residence here. Since then, the Steward never made any move to establish a Local Guard—and look what happened to Al de Baran two years ago. Have you heard of that uprising, boy?"

Shin-ju stopped moving at this.

Slowly, the boy turned his head to look over his shoulder at the Alchemist. Kivstalis caught a glimpse of Shin-ju's gray eyes and, satisfied, looked away and resumed his story.

"The Steward should have listened to me. Al de Baran was defenseless. That Knight—Garrione the Fallen, I believe he is called now—he took over the city almost without effort. If not for Payon's warriors, Al de Baran would probably be a stronghold of anarchy and chaos to this day."

Shin-ju absently started chopping tomatoes again. Is that what people think really happened in Al de Baran that day?

"I see," Shin-ju said. "I can understand why you did not like the Steward, but why did the Steward dislike you?"

"Now that," Kivstalis snapped, "is a topic I do not want to get into."

"Yes, sir."

Kivstalis walked towards the house again. "Now hurry up with my dinner," he ordered. "Perhaps I failed to mention that my meals are what I am most meticulous about. I want my dinner neatly and promptly prepared on the table at precisely half-past-six. That is about half an hour from now. Best to get the fire going under the oven as early as now."

"All right, Mr. Kivstalis."

"Of course," the Alchemist's voice came from inside the house. "See to it that the fire will not burn out of control. You will find the ham in the food closet. No, wait—it is on the table. Or was it in the pantry…?"

Shin-ju groaned in mild exasperation. He set down the knife in his hand and moved to start a fire under the old oven—and to look for the ham that Kivstalis was referring to.

•••

Fifteen minutes later, the fire in the oven was ready—but Shin-ju still couldn't find the ham, and he had looked all over the kitchen. Then the boy remembered that Kivstalis had mentioned that it might have been in the pantry inside the house, so he walked inside to look for it.

As Shin-ju moved into the house, Joanne emerged from behind a rock. She was getting worried—if Shin-ju wasn't able to prepare the Alchemist's dinner soon enough, he might lose his job. So, after making sure no one else was in the outdoor kitchen, she rushed in and tried to find any ham in the cabinets and cupboards.

When she looked into one particular cupboard, she found a small, cube-shaped cardboard box. Peeking in, she saw a ball of red meat sealed in a plastic sheet.

Found it! She thought happily. Now I just have to leave it where Shin-ju could see it when he walks out…

Joanne quickly ran to the table where Shin-ju chopped the onions and tomatoes. Then as soon as she set the box beside the knife, she quickly ran into the bushes and ducked behind the rock again.

Sure enough, Shin-ju came walking out of the house a moment after she had hidden herself. She stifled a giggle at the look of surprise that came over Shin-ju's face when he saw the ham on the table.

"Now where the heck did this come from?" she heard Shin-ju mutter as he began to set the ham and vegetables on a tray to be baked.

•••

"Is the ham ready?" Kivstalis asked, walking out onto the outdoor kitchen.

"Almost, sir," Shin-ju said, cleaning the preparation table with his hands. "It's already in the oven."

"Is it, now?" the Alchemist said genially, walking over to the oven and peeking through the glass panel. "I was wondering if I actually had some ham left in my stocks…"

Shin-ju smiled, but said nothing.

"Say," Kivstalis said while looking into the oven. "Is that my frozen Marine Sphere in there?"

Shin-ju looked over his shoulder. "Marine Sphere? What Marine Sph—"

Too late, Shin-ju saw that the "ham" in the oven was swelling to over four times its original size—and red steam was wafting out of the oven corners!

•••

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

As soon as Joanne heard Shin-ju yell those words, the panicked girl ducked behind the rock and pressed her back onto the stone. She cringed as a massive explosion rocked through the lot, sending smoke and debris past the edges of the rock she was hiding behind.

•••

Kivstalis opened his eyes. His face was in the dirt—he coughed and tried to see where he was.

He was a good distance from his now-ruined house. Shin-ju was kneeling in front of him, looking at the smoke that billowed from where the outdoor kitchen used to be. Somehow, the boy had managed to grab Kivstalis and jump away from the Marine Sphere's blast radius before both of them got caught in the explosion. The Alchemist swore that a bluish-white aura wafted for a moment from Shin-ju's hands before disappearing.

Shin-ju had cast Blessing to save Kivstalis's life.

"Are you… all right… Mr. Kivstalis?" Shin-ju gasped, worn out by the exertion.

"Yes… yes, I am fine," Kivstalis said, sitting up and beginning to laugh. "So that was where I had left that Marine Sphere. Foolish man that I am."

"You know what just happened?" the boy asked.

"Yes, yes… I now remember everything," the Alchemist answered, laughing sheepishly again. "I summoned that Marine Sphere last year for an experiment about explosives, but I had misplaced the infernal device somehow. In time I had forgotten about it… and now the past has come to haunt me."

"The past…?" Shin-ju repeated.

"Yes, my boy… my past. You asked me precisely why the Steward hated me?" Kivstalis laughed before continuing. "For saving my life, I suppose I could embarrass myself for your sake. He disliked me because of the scatterbrain that I am."

Shin-ju furrowed his brow.

"I have a confession to make, my boy. I actually turned vegetarian last year. I do not eat ham. I did not remember until now."

The boy could not believe what he was hearing.

"It is true," the eccentric scientist confessed. "I have short-term memory loss… or, at least, I think I do…"

Shin-ju shook his head in disbelief at the Alchemist. Then he turned to look at what remained of Kivstalis's hovel.

"Mr. Kivstalis," Shin-ju said quietly. "Your home…"

Kivstalis laughed again. "Nay, nay. Worry not, my boy. I suppose I have some friends in town who can house me until I can recoup my losses. Nay, the apology should be mine… I owe you much, least of all my life."

Shin-ju helped Kivstalis on to his feet.

"I will leave this house for now. I am afraid I cannot pay you, my boy, but please… accept my humblest gratitude and sincerest apologies for this fiasco."

Shin-ju bit his lip at this remark, but nodded nonetheless. "Sure, Mr. Kivstalis. Uh… sure."

After that, Shin-ju helped Kivstalis gather up what belongings he had remaining and left the hovel. Later he would help Kivstalis walk to one of the Alchemist's friends who lived in a district not very far from there.

Left behind, a dazed Joanne knelt on the ground behind the rock, her hands between her legs, her face in a very dejected frown. She felt like crying. She had wanted to help Shin-ju, but all she did was cause him to lose his job.

•••

"Sorry, I can't hire Nomads. You might kill me."

"I'd sooner hire an angry Fabre."

"Are you kidding? Of course I can't trust you. You're a Nomad!"

•••

Darkness had fallen over Prontera by the time Shin-ju reached Central Park. His feet hurt, his stomach was growling, and he was still jobless. He thought that if he didn't find a job here, he'd go home and then try his luck again tomorrow, this time at Merchant's Alley—on the opposite end of Prontera from the Training Grounds.

As he passed by a stone bridge that was frequented by painters and other artists, Shin-ju slowed his pace to ease the pain in his feet. In the firelight, he allowed himself to ogle at a large bulletin board standing on one side of the pathwalk. There were many posters on the board: some advertised certain shops at the Fair; others announced theater shows and schedules; and still others offered services such as Peco Carriage Rides, the Kafra Mail Service, and plumbing.

As he was about to continue walking, a certain poster caught his eye. He looked closer at the pamphlet that featured the picture of a teenager in Knight's armor, with the words emblazoned across the top margin:

TOURNAMENT OF YOUNG CHAMPIONS

Shin-ju's pulse quickened as he read about the Tournament. He learned that the Tournament of Young Champions was a yearly competition, sanctioned by the Prontera Chivalry and Cavalry, and open to all Novices in training. Every year, sixteen of the strongest and most skillful Novices are pitted against each other in one-on-one battle to prove the superiority of the Fighting Arts. Many Knights and Crusaders would be scouting the matches one by one, taking note of the Novices who would serve Prontera well on the battlefield. The names of the Tournament Champions would be written in the history books, and the best Novices would be given scholarships and guaranteed careers with the Chivalry—and a cash prize.

Shin-ju looked at the figures in the cash prize section. He figured that if he performed well enough in the Tournament, he'd have enough money to last him a year.

A whole year, Shin-ju thought eagerly, flipping out his notebook and copying all of the Tournament's specifics. By the time he had finished, he had decided to try his luck on this Tournament.

After all, he knew a thing or two about fighting.

He sandwiched his pencil between the pages of his notebook and began to walk home. But something about the poster intrigued him, and he stopped and ogled at it for several more moments after that.

Then he read something that made his hopes plummet:

"Interested participants must procure their parents' expressed written consent prior to entering the Tournament."

•••

"Wow, look who's here," a familiar voice came from behind him. Shin-ju turned around and looked at the bridge.

It was Lara Murakami, wearing a scarf and sweater and carrying a bag of groceries in one hand. The Priestess approached the boy with a curious smile on her face.

"Lara," Shin-ju greeted the Priestess, his voice sounding weary. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, du-h," Lara answered, reaching up to thumb some dirt off the boy's cheek. "What in the world happened to you? You're so grimy."

Shin-ju sighed heavily, looking away. "It's a long story."

Lara eyed Shin-ju's midsection, hearing a prolonged growl coming from his stomach area. Then she raised her eyes to his again.

"C'mon," she said, leading him down the pathwalk. "Lemme buy you a burrito."

•••

Shin-ju and Lara sat on a bench facing the lake, eating quietly. The boy sat, hunched forward, his forearms on his knees and the burrito held in two hands. He stared at the sparkling reflection of the moon and Prontera's lights on the water and thought about what had happened that afternoon.

"So," Lara piped up, taking a sip of strawberry tea through a straw. "Will you give me the honor of telling me about your day, Mr. Yang?"

Shin-ju smiled slightly, turning his head to glance at Lara. The Priestess had taken off her shoes and was sitting on the bench with her legs folded under her. She looked so casual and unassuming that it would have been nearly impossible to guess that it was a Priestess in that civilian attire.

"Aw, Lara," Shin-ju began. "It's just been a real lousy day. I've been trying to find a job all afternoon… and I've gone all the way to Central Park without any luck at all."

Lara raised an eyebrow at him. "Why're you looking for work?"

"Because of this," he answered, pulling Mikieru's letter from his notebook and handing it to the Priestess. "Senpai's gonna be gone for the next few months, so he can't give me any allowance. I know you're making even less than he is, so I can't possibly ask you for money."

Lara read Mikieru's letter with a smirk. "Okay, I think I get the picture," she said simply. "So you weren't able to find any job openings today?"

"Ugh," Shin-ju groaned. "Job openings were easy enough to find… but no one's really keen on hiring a Nomad these days. People take one look at me and go like, 'Get off my sidewalk.'"

Lara giggled, folding the letter again. "So what're you planning to do?"

Shin-ju sighed again, leaning back and looking at the night sky. "I dunno," he answered. "I saw this ad on the bulletin board about a 'Tournament of Young Champions,' though, and I thought about joining it… but it turns out I need parental consent before I can join."

"So?"

Shin-ju glanced at Lara quizzically for a moment. "So, no matter how much I wanna join, I can't. Unless my parents come back from the grave just to sign a stupid piece of paper."

Lara pouted, hurt by Shin-ju's revelation.

"Sorry, Shin-ju," she apologized after a moment. "I sorta didn't know about… your parents."

Shin-ju shrugged, his eyes still on the moon above them. "That's okay, Lara," he said quietly. "To be honest… neither do I."

A few moments of silence prevailed between the two friends. That was when Lara finished her burrito and slipped into her sneakers again.

"Well, cheer up," she said simply, getting to her feet. "If it's just parental consent, I can probably cover you on that."

Shin-ju looked at her with a start. "Really?"

"Yeah," she answered matter-of-factly. "Since I'm your guardian, I have parental custody over you on the absence of… well… parents. I can write up a written consent if you really wanna join this Tournament thingy."

The boy's face brightened as he got to his feet. "That'd be great!" he whooped, flashing a smile at the Priestess. "Thanks, Lara! You rock!"

Lara giggled. "Down, boy."

The two friends began to walk down the tree-lined pathway along the lake. "Wow," Shin-ju piped up. "Am I glad to have bumped into you tonight. You really have a knack of turning people's lives around, y'know that, Lara?"

"Mmyeah, I guess I do," the Priestess laughed. "But call me 'Mom' once, and I'll be bitchy."

"Well, then I'll be a son of a… bitch?"

"Touché."

•••

As Shin-ju and Lara walked away, a figure emerged from behind a tree near the bench where they sat.

It was Joanne. She had listened in to their conversation, and while she was happy to know that Shin-ju had found a means of supporting himself, she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about Lara.

Over the past week and a half, Joanne had come to learn that Lara was a Priestess, and that her relationship with Shin-ju was custodial… platonic, at best. And yet she felt unsettled at how easily the boy felt around the Priestess, and how he could mouth a few taboo words in her presence without minding.

Most of all, the thought that Shin-ju was already calling the Priestess by her first name gave her goosebumps.

How does she do it? Joanne asked herself. How could she make Shin-ju feel so at ease with her? Can I do the same thing if I tried hard enough? It doesn't even look like she has to try to make Shin-ju feel comfortable…

She sighed heavily.

Ayame on one side, Lara on the other, she lamented quietly. Maybe I should just quit while I'm ahead…

•••

End of Chapter Nine