This chapter has "book end" author notes again. *Sigh*
Last Chapter was a study in the abuse of the letter and word, "I". Enough said about that. It does not seem to have been worth anyone reviewing either. Ehh. =S.
Unsure if I already said this before but...one thing I dislike is when an author learns a new word and then decides instantly the way to remember it is to make one of their characters discover it, and then use it...all...the...time. Bonus points if this is done for one full chapter and then...THE WORD IS NEVER SEEN AGAIN. It's like it fell of the earth and vanished. Poof.
Why am I talking about this? No, it's not because I learned a new word myself. (Though I DID learn an interesting one yesterday, but it has no relevance to this story so unless asked or made relevant I won't bother with it in story...my point is that these authors do this without regard for the Character's temperament. They will bend the character's personality to suit the word of the day. It doesn't sit well with me. All well and good when you can make it work without compromising the character's integrity but...guys come on. XD I myself had to go back last chapter several times because I found Recette was speaking a little too fluently and with far too much vocabulary for her character. Recette, a person who occasionally slips into what is called "Buffy Speak" is not supposed to sound like an English professor...(Not that I am one, though I admit I can sound like one quite a bit...T-T.)
In other news, I passed both my re-certification tests recently for some licenses I own. So that's fun. Motivated me to write some more on this.
The part where Charme is thinking and deliberating with herself as she walked home was originally planned for last chapter but...I just decided not to put it there. So now it's here.
Anywho, enough of that twaddle. I don't own Recettear. I never have, seriously doubt I ever will.
+~Lemongrass Stains: Recette's Annual.
+~Chapter Ten: Evolution.
I awoke with a start in complete silence. No wind was blowing, no snow falling, no soft breathing to measure the time by. Just quiet sunlight streaming through the window. I sat up in bed and surveyed the room I was in. It took me a few seconds to remember this was not my hotel one. Though why had I expected to hear breathing my hotel room gave me pause for a bit before I remembered Recette.
The coverlet fell off me as I moved to leave the bed, and I noticed that my boots had obviously been removed from my feet. I paid this no mind until I noticed that I was in different clothes too. This gave me pause. She had dressed me up like a doll too? What did she...
I did not let my mind wander that far. My own clothes were folded neatly near the bedhead, and I took them dutifully. They had been washed. The smell was different than what I was used to. Not extravagantly perfumed or warm, but cooler and clean. Whatever manner of soap she had used was obviously not as lavish as I was used, but it had it's own charm, if a more impersonal one. I pulled off what I was wearing and dressed, taking care to stay out of what I gauged to be the line of sight of that mushroom.
It was still far too creepy for my tastes, and to let it watch me change was not an option...even if it had no life to watch me...as far as I knew. I chanced a glance out the window. The sun was out, but it was a watery one, wavering in the smog-like air. The snow completely blanketed the ground, covering all the harsh looks of the dilapidated street.
...with enough snow, all the land would look the same, the rich and the poor.
With this thought in mind, I walked out the room and into a hallway. I tried the first door I saw.
It opened into a kitchen area, and the first thing I did was bang my head against a low hanging pot. I stepped back and rubbed my head, wincing and biting back any complaints. A brown mop of hair whipped around at the sound, pony tail swishing. It was Recette, and her mahogany eyes settled on me with a half smile.
"Please mind your head. It's pretty valuable to you."
No kidding. I continued to rub it to try and lessen the pain, glaring at the pot my impact had sent swinging. It reflected the light in the kitchen dully. Recette indicated a seat at the table she was situated at, and I slid dutifully into it. There was already a plate there. Her ability to anticipate a person's want and needs was uncanny, I admit, though I would rather clean my mouth first to be honest...
I idly wonder why she never married, or had she? She tilted her head to the side, looking at me, and I was pretty sure she knew what I was thinking. I almost hated her for it. Almost. She pointed to the door I had just come from.
"If you want to freshen up, the bathroom is at the end of the hall. Perhaps not the standard you are used to, but this is, after all, a condemned house. The water runs yes,but I use candles for light, as always. I set a coal fire in a pot in there, so it's warm at least."
Always knowing my needs. I noticed the food was hot, form the steam coming out of it. It must have been taken out recently, but Recette was up a long time ago, this I got from some cold tea by her, which was more or less untouched as she returned her sights to the window she had been looking out of. A book was in front of her, but my curiosity was not urgent enough for me to sneak a peek as I got up for the bathroom...
A bit later had me sitting at the Kitchen table again. Recette was once again opposite me, her book was now face down, but still open, sot that it splayed itself against the wood of the table, showing off it's green cloth cover, and from the supple way it could bend, I guessed it was bound in leather. It title was in some language I could not put my finger upon, I suppose it was an arcane book...
Well, Recette had shown she could shoot ice from her hands...
She cleared her throat, and I looked up to see her watching me. He head was still slightly tilted tot he side. I blinked. She was wearing an attire similar to what I guessed was her old shopkeeper's dress, but obviously a larger size. However, her belt still had a sheath looped through it, though it was empty again. I noticed for the first time that there was also a knife one.
Also, now that I think of it, even when there was only one sheath, the blade had looked lonely in there...
Recette smiled. I was sure she knew what I was thinking again.
"Last I left the story, at least before you fell asleep, we were about to enter the Crystal Nightmare, but I can take a guess you don't remember that far. Do you?"
I shook my head. I only remembered when she told me about Charme finding her after Griff had knocked her out. She looked out the window.
"Well then...I guess we have some catching up to do...maybe I can tell the story better this time."
I looked out the window to the street below too, and as she began, the snow melted away, and night fell, and a certain shop's lights winked on to reflect off a cheery sign...
+~-1-~+
I walked back carrying Recette in silence. Griff had left me at the plaza, muttering something about who knows what. The night was still clear, still quiet and still moon-bright, but I was ignoring it. I was instead thinking about the girl I was carrying, and my bet. I smiled secretly to myself. It could work. Recette hardly ever dodged anything...but that was simply because of the way she had been taught. Elan had taught her nothing but the basic martial arts. She only knew one type of charge, and only ducked or sidestepped out of instinct...or to initiate the one charge she knew.
Her balance was good, credit to Elan. Recette though, was a little girl. She was not built like Elan, and thus could not use his style effectively. Nagi somehow managed to tank hits too, but her style was still different and also not right for Recette. Then there was Tielle. It was an attractive option, but in the end, not good for what Recette wanted. Recette wanted to save people in danger. She wanted to rush in, make a grab and get out.
Sure, taking a hit and continuing on would help there...but what she needed was to work on being like me. My grin widened at the irony. It was wise of Recette to keep this from Tear. I even suspected the reason Recette wanted to show me she could fight was for this very reason...only Griff messed up the night.
Recette wanted me, not only to not think she was crazy...but as her next teacher.
Recette had good natural speed, I could see that already, but she needed to be taught. Direct it right. More than once I had performed a leg sweep, and Recette had done absolutely nothing to stop me. A simple jump could have saved her. A few evasive maneuvers could have stopped me from pummeling her with my blade.
She had strong legs, running around all over the town/dungeons and Elan's training probably did that. So use 'um for something besides side kicking. Monsters and people were not trees. We can duck, bob, weave and dive, jump and run. I knew with a little training, Recette would prove too slippery for Griff to snatch. Her instincts were good enough, and Elan had set most of the ground work for me.
I let my grin deteriorate into a smirk. Ironic that in wanting to save adventurers, Recette would slowly be turned into a pretty good one herself. She had probably told Elan her plan too, which is why Elan had only limited her training to teaching one type of charge and kick. She was a unit made for rushing in, a charge would prove useful, but not much other attack.
I too, decided to limit what I taught her attack wise. I would stick to working on her speed and dodge abilities. Made no sense to teach Recette how to strike when it would only take away from the time we already had so little of...
I found myself in front of a dark, locked shop not to much later, and once more my face split into a grin. Heeey~ It's locked. So does that mean I can, yah know... "Take her home with me" now? My grin threatened to become face splitting now. Oh I was rich...and somewhat evil. I decided to mess with Tear's head and left a note wedged in the door handle. Let the fairy read it, maybe she's drop so low she would hit the ground.
Laughing to myself, I hitched Recette a little higher. Well. First stop was an inn. I was sure the shopkeeper would pay me back if I rented two rooms, but I felt like messing with heads, so I decided to order only one.
Let's see how innocent her mind really was when she woke up in my bed. Oh it was such a rich thought.
I laughed all the way to the inn. Quietly.
A shadow stole over the shop from a single cloud, and the wind tickled the note on the door as Charme vanished from sight.
…
Tear awoke to a quiet house. Well she expected as much. After waiting for Recette for a good amount of time, she had decided to enforce her decision to lock the door, but she had taken post by the door, just so she could watch Recette out of sight and see how she acted when she encountered it. However, the stresses of the day had tolled on her more than she gave them credit for, and soon Tear found herself sleeping on top of a hat, one of the stared, green "Warm Hat" models. It was downy and soft, perfect for a bed...she shot up in alarm once she realized she had been sleeping on it. It was merchandise for Pete's sake!
Sleeping on the merchandise...what had gotten into her...it was then that she realized that she had slept the entire night...and thus had ACTUALLY left Recette outside to fend for herself. She felt like slapping herself. Merde!
She rose into the air and beat a fast track to the door, which she unlocked with little difficulty, but found near impossible to open. Hey, she was a fairy, this was a door. Kinda hard to open it you know? She had a size disadvantage.
Once open she zoomed past it with momentum and looked about the street. No sleeping Recette, but what girl would sleep in the open like this anyway? Recette maybe, but Tear had to admit Recette was smarter than given credit for. The plaza?
She zoomed on not just her own wings but the wings the wind had lent her to get there in record time. No Recette slept on or under any plaza benches. It struck Tear that perhaps Recette had woken up and had taken another route home, and was even now walking into the shop...hopefully.
She pair zero mind to the people she nearly crashed into as she flew back to the shop, speeding way past her speed limit as she beat away thoughts of the one time Recette and her had gone out and, upon hearing a noise, she had yelled " A HOODLUMS GONNA STEAL MY CUTNESS!" Tear tried very, very hard not to think about what else would have been stolen from Recette if a hoodlum got her, not the least of which being her life. She almost crashed into the door in her haste.
The shop window however, was not so lucky. Tear smacked on it like an errant fly to a windshield, and she bounced off to land on the ground rather painfully. Mewling and rubbing her head, she looked up at the shop and realized with horror that she had left not only unlocked, but with the door closed, which meant it would be nearly impossible, scratch that, impossible to get back in. It was easier to push things than pull them...and Tear did not have the strength to open this door.
Her eyes bugged as she flew back up with haste to check inside. As far as she could see, no one was in there, and nothing looked missing...but how long would that last? Thoughts of stolen merchandise made her lose more than a few wingspans in height, especially when the monetary loss was factored in.
She flew so low that her feet touched the door handle. It was uncomfortable to sit on, as she was not exactly small as that, but she had no other semi-guard-able or decent spot. So she flitted there. It was then that she noticed the note. With a sinking feeling about ransom money, she tugged it out.
"Hey Tear. Remember the bar? I found her asleep, sooo~ I took her home with me. Not sure if you'll get her back undamaged~, but that's okay right?~ Charme."
Tear stared at the note. Then she stared at it some more. She could not stop staring at it. Then she felt herself tilt sideways and she fell off the door handle, still holding the note. When she hit the ground she was still holding it too. Still staring, as if the note had petrified her.
Her brain had shut down. For it's own safety. Anyone looking at Recettear instantly knew, from the frozen fairy, that now was not the best time to go shopping...and it was such a pity too...no one bothered to pick her up.
+~-2-~+
Charme smiled as she saw Recette stir. She had purposely placed herself on the bed as well and waited as the brunette's eyes opened and stared at her. Any time now the fireworks would start...
...except they didn't.
Recette looked momentarily confused as she stared at Charme, then her eyes swept the inn room. She had never been in an inn before, but she knew this must be one. She focused back on Charme before sitting up in bed. She was in some borrowed night clothes. Rubbing her eyes a bit, she woke up fully and addressed Charme with a chipper as ever greeting.
"G'morning Charme! Is this your inn room?"
Slightly disappointed at the lack of reaction, Charme decided to press the attack a little.
"Yes it is. We've been here all night...in the same bed."
Recette however, did not seem to find anything wrong with this at all. Instead she simply blinked and looked about at the edge of the bed for anything to cover her feet with.
"Oh? I'm sorry, I took up your bed!"
Locating her own shoes, Recette hopped off the bed and walked socked feet over to them. Charme was at this point a bit put off. She decided however, to just push a little harder. Adopting a leery face, she said rather off-hand.
"Last night was very nice."
Recette however, did not pick up on the tone or the face. She looked slightly confused before she settled for a smile.
"Oh yes, it was, a nice moon and hardly any breeze, it was a nice night for a spar...but I wanted to talk about that actually."
Recette's smile was usually infectious, but at this moment, Charme's smile dropped. Was she really so dense? Or did she not know? Horror replaced her confusion. Recette...didn't have a mom around did she? ...Or a Dad...how much had Recette actually been taught before they left?
Oh god no...if she had been replaced by any old hoodlum guy and Tear had not been there that night when she had said "I want to take you home with me." How would Recette have responded? Would she have even KNOWN the implications it could have meant?
Charme paled a little, but she hitched a smile on her face, because Recette was looking at her with concern. It had never occurred to her that Recette would simply be so innocent she was unaware of any connotations. She decided to try one last time, and this time there was little amusement in it.
"Charme, what's wrong?"
"Recette, are you aware what usually happens when someone looks at you that certain leery way and says you've "spent the night" with them? Do you even know what it might mean for some people to say they "slept" with you?"
She put heavy irony on those phrases, and Recette looked at her oddly.
"Err...we slept in the same bed? I mean...there's nothing wrong with that really. I mean, I slept with Tielle when she was recovering because I only had one bed, though I guess it would have been dangerous if she woke up in the middle of the night because she hardly knew me and last time she saw me she attacked me but...ehh...why?"
Charme slapped a hand to her forehead, hard. Her own hit made her see stars, and she fell back on the bed with a groan. God. She did not know. So much for trying to embarrass the girl by implicating something and then enjoying the redness before informing her she had a dirty mind and that no such thing had happened...Recette couldn't have a dirty mind because she just did not know.
She was again struck by how young the shopkeeper was as she rushed to her side and yelped, asking if she was okay. Charme grumbled an affirmative. This was going to be one long morning...
"Recette...I need to teach you something."
"Oh, yes, that's what I wanted to talk about! I want to learn a bit more about how to dodge properly you see-"
"No, not about that. I guessed you wanted to fight me yesterday for that reason...but this is something else. Have a seat. This will take a while."
Recette sat on the corner of the bed, keeping a polite smile. Charme almost did not have the heart to break that innocence. However...if she continued to shower Louie with hints that she liked him, Louie would get the wrong...or right...idea. Recette would be unaware how to proceed and that could spawn a whole host of problems...
Best break it to her nice and simple.
"Recette, have you ever heard about...the bees and the mushrooms?"
...
By the souls of deceased sprites; where were they?
Tear had managed to finally recover form her stupor about mid morning. She then proceeded to rip apart the offending note into tiny, tiny pieces, taking her time to make sure it was nigh unto dust before flying about and tossing them in a sheer vortex of her frustration. She could not enter the shop, and no one seemed willing to come closer to the agitated fairy to help. So Tear "paced" back and forth by the shop door, her wings flapping unnecessarily fiercely all the while, making her back and forth trip more like a defibrillators graph. If Charme had so much as ruffled Recette's hair in a lewd way, she would burn the thief within an inch of her life.
"Uhm...Tear? Teeeear~"
What kind of villain took a sleeping girl and carried her home to do such...things?! Ooooh when she got her hands on her! Tear continued her progress back and forth, paying no mind to the two people who were watching her progress as they waited right in front of her. Not even as one of them struggled to get her attention. Tear just kept right on muttering as she flew by Recette's hands.
"Teeeeear~..."
Tear suddenly let her vehemence burst out, no longer able to simply mutter. Recette almost fell flat on her behind from the sudden outburst of sound, but Charme grabbed her.
"I'll take her and stuff her into a GRAMOPHONE and see if she plays! I'll string her by her ankles and use her toes as a knife sharpener!"
Recette turned to Charme, looking fearful at this outburst.
"Maybe I should hide...she's really mad at me! I don't wanna hang by my ankles...and I don't think I'll fit in a Gramophone!"
Charme smirked at the image, then put a hand on the girl's shoulder to try and comfort her.
"I think she means me."
"...But I don't want you to hang by your ankles either!"
Charme bit back a laugh at the face Recette was making. If anything, it would be Tear who would be the one hanging by her ankles, and she would be used as a salt shaker. She grinned again at this new image. Tear continued to pay them zero mind.
"I'll tie her to a counter, gag her and then let water drip on her forehead for weeks!(*1) I'll rip her limbs off and then ROAST them and feed them to pigs! I'll..I'll...charge her double price on all store items!"
Recette could almost feel a bead of sweat drip down from her head at that moment.
"T*E*A*R!"
Tear whipped around and looked at Recette with exasperation.
"What is it Recette? I am trying to think about a suitable punishment for Charme when she brings you back from wherever she took you!"
Recette almost fell down at the irony of that statement; Charme actually did. She rolled about on the floor laughing fit to crack a few ribs as Tear turned around AGAIN and began to mutter. She had not even realized...Recette however, did not find the humor in this...
"Charme...I think you broke her..."
Barely able to breathe, she answered the girl.
"Broke her? I fixed her for you! Oh this is perfect!"
Recette sighed, looking between the laughing and rolling Charme and the muttering, erratically flying fairy and decided that Recettear would remain closed for today. She pulled out her book and checked it. Yes. It would remain closed. She had no orders today...and she wanted to practice some of the stances and moves Charme had shown her this morning.
…One week later
Charme jumped up and landed on the plaza bench, landing there only long enough to get a springboard off it so that her silhouette was framed by the moon. Recette narrowed her eyes as Charme threw five knives, none save one of which Recette could see. Recette side stepped one of them as they fell and then heard the tell tale whistle of another coming in the air. She jumped back and watched as one thudded where she had been. Her own blade came out almost un-bidden, perhaps only half-bidden, to deflect another one, but she felt two of the blunt wood knives slam into her middle, winding her.
"No good Recette, you had to block one and two got you. Nice work on the two you dodged though. Again. Ready? Okay!"
Again Charme jumped, and this time threw six walnut shells. They had slime in them. Washable yes, but still slime. Recette still could not see any one of them...she jumped back from where she guessed one would land and stepped to the side to avoid another one she heard coming. She jumped a bit when it exploded, but no paint got her from that one. No, it was the two that hit her in the head and chest that knocked her sprawling and in the flight path of a third, which, despite her effort to make her blade a shield; shattered on her cheek, drenching her face in the green stuff. She winced and sat up, spitting slime from her mouth.
Yuck.
Charme sighed, her hand coming up to massage the bridge of her nose. Not quite what she had hoped for...She watched Recette pull a handkerchief from one of her pockets and wipe her face. Sighing again, Charme walked towards her.
"It's no good deflecting them Recette, dodge. This is not a game of block, it's avoidance. Dodge. Blocking will only help with the small fry, and most of us can handle small fry. We'll need your help at the boss, and the boss you have to dodge. So dodge!"
Recette made no comment, but got up from her seat on the floor and dusted herself off, assuming a ready stance again. Charme appraised it with a critical eye before sighing again.
"That's it for today Recette, we'll continue it tomorrow..."
+~-3-~+
Recette had stopped talking, and I shook myself slightly to rid myself of the image of the past her picking herself up off a cobblestone street to watch the current model. Her own tea was still sitting by her, dejected and cold, un-touched. She was watching outside, and I decided to direct my attention to it as well.
Someone was trudging through the snow. A someone I found eerily familiar, especially since I had just been hearing about him in Recette's own story. I noticed that the sky was darkening, going into the late noons, and I wondered again about how time seemed to fly when these stories were told to me...but that was not the important thought. The important thought was that it was darkening outside, and so were the clouds. Was it about to snow again?
No! That was not the important part either! The important part was the person trudging through the snow with his attire standing stark contrast with the white ground and his dark hair flying free in the breeze. Recette stood up as I saw the sun reflect off a pair of glasses that held house to glowing pinpricks I assumed were his eyes.
Red eyes...
It could only be Griff who stalked here...Griff the demon come to call. Recette pushed her chair back into the table and strode out the room. I hastened to follow her. Her stride was much quicker than mine, and my mind drifted back to her training with Charme. I saw her pull a coat from a tack on the wall by the beginning of the staircase, and watched her pull it on smoothly, it's richly brown material an almost mirror to her hair, but with a bit too much red...like her eyes. I fingered my own as I tried to keep up with her.
Recette leapt the last few steps, landing with her arms half extended to keep balance, like a bird using their wings to land lightly on a tree branch. She did not break stride, and I came into sight of the first floor just into time to see Recette vault her own counter with a casual hand, again landing lightly and weaving between her empty displays. I myself was ingrained with to much mannerism to do something so flamboyant as that...or perhaps, a tiny voice in my had sniggered, I was in no shape to do it. I walked around and rushed after her and into the snow.
It hit my legs with it's cold immediately, and I winced at the biting air. I was fully bundled, having closed the coat I had lazily put over my shoulders to keep it in sight, and my hat was on my head...the only thing I did not have on was my scarf, which was quickly taken out of the pocket I had stuffed it in and wrapped around my neck. It was freezing out here.
Yet still, despite all my bundling, Recette stood in simple boots whose height was probably not equal to this snow fall, and a light dress under an apron, with a loose overcoat over it all of that rich color, and she looked hardly out of place. I hurried closer to see Recette meet Griff half way.
It was certainly a demon. I had seen them before on occasion, and from the description I was certain it was he. His eyes briefly rested upon me before directing his attention to Recette, but the young woman beat him to the punch.
"Griff. I did not expect to see you here..."
His voice was richly deep and melodic, but there was a sadness in it I could not place. It was not in his expression, certainly. That was furrowed into annoyance and exasperation.
"You should dress more properly. You humans are always so fickle with your sicknesses. I wonder why I even bother with your race half of the time..."
"I'll live."
Griff simply huffed at that statement, then cast another look in my direction. His look was quail worthy. I felt any thought of speech die in my throat. Recette followed his gaze.
"Oh, you look cold there. You should head inside, it's warmer in there. You're not wearing gloves."
Pot calling kettle's bottom black. She was not wearing a hat, scarf, gloves OR proper boots. Yet I could not suppress a shiver that chose that moment to wrack my body, violently. She looked at me with some pity. I shivered again. I was curious as to what they were meeting out here for, but the cold was biting me, and now the demon had joined in on the stare contest. Recette spoke again.
"Please, don't get sick on y account, I'll only be out here a little while, then I'll come in again."
Admitting defeat, I sighed and turned about to walk back into the shop, or what was formerly a shop. I felt the temperature change immediately as I walked in. My body shook all over one final time, violently, as if shaking off the cold, before it settled down to just being stiffly cold at my core. I pounded my boots on the carpet by the front door to rid them of clinging snow, and then walked some distance before turning around a leaning against a counter. If I could not hear, my curiosity would at least make me watch.
Recette seemed to be politely discussing something with him, their faces betrayed nothing. On the opposite side of the street, for the first time, I saw a door besides Recette's open, and a wizened old head peek out. The old man was wrapped in several rags form head to toe as he stepped out, and his hand made to cover the eviction notice on his building as he closed the door behind him. I felt a stab of guilt at his momentary pause, but he shook it off and walked towards the two in the middle of the street,but he did not stop to chat with them save to say what I assume was goodbye.
He had an eaten pack on his back, and he seemed to give a half sad smile as he departed in his shuffling gait through the snow. Recette turned back to Griff to speak and her expression was just a slight bit more stormy, which was my final clue to the thought that that man...was not coming back. Another stab of guilt. I walked away and back up the steps, and took my seat by the table to wait, opening my coat again as I warmed up some.
As promised, Recette came back up only a few minutes later, tossing her coat on the table between us and starting work on the stove for what I assumed was a soup. It smelled like that after a while. She set down a bowl of the stuff in front of me and then took her own and played with it a bit before swirling some noodles on a fork and placing it in her mouth.
I find it odd that this is actually the first time I've seen her consume something. Oh I've seen her hold empty plates or cups, or half used ones like that cold tea she had recently whisked off the counter before starting her soup, but I had never actually seen her put things in her mouth and swallow. It made her more real in a way, like the final confirmation that I was not talking to some sad apparition or something. It was stupid I know, after all, what ghost could cook for you and leave her haunting area but still, it released some tension for me. I was dealing with a human. She cleared her throat after taking another sip of her soup.
"Well, I guess you'd like me to continue?"
I pointed out I she should probably finish her meal first, and she grinned.
"Now you're looking out for me hmm? So far it's been the opposite way around."
She took another spoon full of broth and sipped at it. Then she gave a half smile and pushed it away closer to me. I looked at her oddly. I was not going to eat her soup and mine too...what was I, a trash bin? I was not big! Just...warmer than she was.
"However, my conversation with an old friend has not put me in much of an eating mood. No, I don't want you to finish it. I'm just making room..."
For what became apparent when she put her arms on the table and folded them, letting her head plop on them in a fashion similar to what I used to do when I was bored with my tutor at home. She tilted her head to rest on her left arm rather than her right one, freeing her mouth.
"So. I left you after my first week of training with Charme, didn't I?"
Before I let her continue I asked her if that person I saw was Griff. She smiled half-hardheartedly at me, which was answer enough as her voice again floated in that way it does, and took me back to the past.
+~-4-~+
Two weeks. He had two weeks left.
Louie let out a captive breath as he watched Recette zoom by him on some shop errand or another, and detached himself from the side of a building he had zipped behind when he saw her approach. He uncomfortably fingered his belted sword with an absentminded air.
Frustrated with himself, he took a deep breath and let it out in a blast of wind, then looked up at the blue sky. Not a cloud. Not. A. Cloud. He smoothed his hair with a nervous gesture, which was useless because all it did was spring back up again. He ran a hand through it again. It sprung right back up.
Giving up, he cast his eyes about the plaza square, looking for something to occupy himself with. He saw Elan, but it was too early to drink at the bar for his tastes, and Louie had been avoiding the bar anyway recently. He had built up a nice safety net from this he found. He had even started to pay back his tab a little.
There. That was the problem. He was no longer perpetually poor. He no longer had that "seedy" look that made people doubt him when it came to hiring for adventuring. In fact, people swarmed for him. His gear shone with care and honor, and so did his clothes. He looked rather good for an adventurer now...and that all came from the same merchant who had just zipped by him, the one he was avoiding.
Why?
To be honest, he did not really know why he was avoiding Recette. Maybe it was because of the gear he was barely getting used to by now, the dress of war that she had so casually given to him, as she always had. As her first adventurer, she seemed to think she was obligated to take good care of him.
Sure, she took care of all the others, but Louie was sure that she did not discount their prices quite as much as she did with him. Maybe Elan might get similar treatment due to his own wallet problems...maybe Tielle due to their strong friendship...but probably not. Definitely not Calliou. Griff paid just as much as any other customer Louie was sure, and Charme too. Nagi he was sure paid more or less normal price too. Arma he was not sure.
...Yet. Louie was sure he did not deserve this. Not just the gear, but the treatment. Louie was, and had always been, a street guy who liked his beer and dreamed of being an adventurer, and hardly ever succeeding. He earned money, saw something he wanted, bought it on the spur of the moment then found he did not have enough money to buy what he needed. Cycle repeats. He could never earn enough to build a safety net because he never could spend enough to get decent enough gear to get strong enough to earn enough to make that safety net so that he would not spend too much on stupid stuff.
Not only that, but he new, more profitable prospects made him the item of new attention, attention he had always wanted but now felt unwelcome. Louie was about seventeen, and like almost any teen, he liked attention from whatever orientation they found favorable, in his case, he liked the attention of girls...but...
It bothered him. They never noticed him before. He, Louie, who had always been looked down as being kinda dumb, kinda dim, knew enough to know that this attention he was getting was not quite kosher.(*2) Not quite right. They were not really after him. They were after his new clothes, his sparkling promise of money, or his better build, as adventuring while being fed a much better diet did provide him with the benefit of a healthier body...which led him back to Recette.
She was younger than him. Not by much granted, but at his age, it mattered. She also showed signs that she might maybe be starting to see him in that same light these other girls were too. It worried him. Recette was a nice girl yes.
He was sure her thoughts were not the same as those other girls too. Since, yah' know; she was the main cause of his current success and she had far more monetary ability than he doubted he ever would, but also because he did not think Recette could even think that way. That in lied the problem.
Recette, if she did like him was far too good for him to even try to think of liking her back. She was indeed that angel he had thought her the first day he met her...and despite his thoughts of being a world class adventurer with some "babe" wooing after him...he doubted he deserved that "babe" to be Recette. It was too shallow a thought, and even HE knew it was shallow.
Recette was still a girl, not that he was a man but...he was nearer to the title than she was to woman, work with him here and stroke his ego a bit to prove his point damn it! Still...the way her eyes had looked in that firelight when she had spoken to them about going into the Crystal Nightmare...and she was letting her hair grow out he saw...she had changed it to a single ponytail, not a kiddie one either but a thin one that flew back regally...he ripped his thoughts form that line of thought. He had no doubt she would not fit the usual mode of woman here in Pensee as she grew up.
She, they almost all looked the same. Same brown hair and brown eyes like their daughters and same homespun dress, but despite sharing these same qualities of hair and eyes, Recette wore them differently. He was certain she'd turn out quite different from the usual drab...but again his mind was off topic!
Oh hell, enough of this!
Louie walked to the center of the plaza and drew his sparkling sword with a quick movement, and then took a ready pose. He slashed out at an imaginary enemy and swung out his shield to block another ones' imaginary throw. He sidestepped a charge and swung out his blade to slice a kobold in half and then spun on the spot, releasing his pent up frustration in a full circle slash tinged red with mana.
He swung his blade up to slice at a bee and ran forwards to jump up ad slice down upon a slime. He backpedaled to avoid a roper and managed to slice it in half, and then blocked a slash from Charme, bearing down in on her to slice at her middle. She danced away and struck at his other side. He side stepped and swung at her head. She ducked and tried to trip him up, but he jumped and slashed viciously downwards. She fell and turned into a roper, which tried to grab him, but he strafed to the side and then slashed at it, cutting it in half. He swung in a circle as slimes surrounded him and he rushed forward to meet Charme again, who dropped a pack full of items and swung out her dagger to block mine as she danced away backwards.
Wait...what?
I blinked and then paled. I had attacked Recette! Oh shit!
I pulled an embarrassed face sheathed my blade, rubbing the back of my head.
"Oh! Recette. Yo...uhh...sorry there, I was practicing and I kinda was in the moment, I didn't really see you."
I looked down and saw that Recette had actually had a blade, which was not on the floor, as Recette was nursing her left hand in her other. Oh crap, did I actually hit her? My eyes widened as I stammered.
"Uhh...oh damn, did I actually get you Recette? I'm sorry, I'll pay for that..uhh, not that your had has a set price...I mean! No I don't mean hand in marriage...ahh why did I say that aww crap I-I'm sorry I...uhh..Recette? Why are you smiling so much?"
It was true, she looked like she was holding back some laughter as she smiled and waited for me to talk myself into silence. I spluttered down into a more calm state as she showed me her hand had no injury.
"It's okay Louie, your slash just ripped it from my hand is all, and it hurts, but I'm not cut or anything. I got away in time.
...and she had gotten away in time in a hell of a professional way too now that I think of it. Who had taught her that? I pointed to the blade to look for something to say.
"Been taking lessons? You kinda got outta that situation pretty well..."
She tilted her head to the left, and I felt something twitch in me. God, I hate when she does that, It makes me like her more, which I am trying to avoid doing.
"Yes. I was taking Lessons from Charme actually! I'm not any good yet though...I tried to block you, but you're too strong, I should have just dodged. She keeps telling me I have to try dodging instead of trying to block if a hit is too strong, but I just instinctively try to block because I don't think I'll be fast enough..."
That was interesting. Was she planning on learning self defense to protect her shop? Actually now that I think of it, it was actually a perfectly good idea. Recette often walked around with a lot of pix and merchandise as she carted it back and forth form shop to other places, and she ran her shop with just her and Tear, and a fairy was not going to be much use if someone tried to rob her. I kicked myself for being stupid. Of COURSE Recette would want to know how to fight some.
I grinned a bit. I wondered though...and despite myself I found myself asking her.
"Would you like a spar then? It would be nice to do that instead of imagining kobolds and slimes everywhere."
She seemed to struggle with herself some before she smiled and walked to pick up her pack and then settled it back on her shoulders before picking up her blade. I pointed to the pack.
"That will slow you down a lot."
She looked up at me and seemed almost surprised before she drew off the pack and put it by her feet. Her mind seemed preoccupied for a bit before she stood straight, dagger in hand and in a stance I found familiar. It was not quite Charme's as Recette did not have the figure for it, but it echoed it. I also saw what I guessed was some basic martial arts in there. It looked kinda like Elan. I readies my blade and looked her over. Her right side was open. She had no shield and held a one handed blade. I immediately launched to her right and swung.
She jumped back quickly and hesitated. I took advantage and slashed again, but she ducked and stood to my side. She hesitated only a split second before slashing out her blade. I blocked it on my shield and then jumped back when she dropped and tried to leg sweep me. I rushed back in, but she got up quickly enough to dance away from my slash, however...
I jumped forwards and my shield hit her in the gut, along with my knee. Winded, she backed off and I took advantage to knock her blade from her. She watched it fly and land in the ground, watching it with interest. I looked at her.
"You hesitated. Why didn't you attack?"
She re-focused on me.
"Charme had been teaching me to dodge. Not attack. Elan taught me a little bit about it but Charme-"
"Bull."
She looked up at me, surprised. I continued.
"Why do you want to learn how to fight?"
Recette seemed to weigh me with her eyes before she spoke, but not before sighing and plunking down right where she stood. I followed her example and sat in the grass.
"I wanted to be able to save someone if they fell in the Crystal Nightmare. Rush in, get the out and then repeat if needed. I need to be able to dodge a boss if it comes after me, so Charme told me to forget about blocking or attacking and focus on dodging. She said I can take a hit but I should not try to."
I looked around the plaza a bit before I addressed this.
"That's all good, but what about outside the dungeon?"
"Heewah?"
"If you know how to attack and block, don't just forget about it. What happens if someone tries to rob your shop? Are you going to just dodge them? Eventually, if you do not hit back, someone is going to hit you, and if they hit you enough, you will go down. It's nice to know how to dodge yeah, but don't forget about everything else."
I watched as she fiddled with her dagger in her hands. I had a feeling she could do a lot better than what she just did if she kept what I had told her in mind. I pointed at her weapon.
"Want to try again?"
She looked at me. Then she smiled, and again I hated myself for getting into this position. That smile was poison. She stood up quickly and got into a ready position.
"Yes."
One week left~
Recette took a deep breath in and held it for a few seconds before letting it out and assuming a ready position. The sky was again clear today, which Recette counted as a blessing,since the past few days had been overcast and it had been very difficult to do Charme's training regime. True to her word, Recette had tried to stop blocking any of the projectiles in the training, but she had also not "forgotten how to block" as Louie had put it. She had adopted a routine in where a few days of the week, she met with Louie mid-day for a spar, while her nights were dominated by Charme.
It was tiring, especially since she still met Elan in the early morning, so it was not everyday, but Recette had never slept better, which was an upside even if she feared she would go deaf soon or Tear go hoarse.
Tear constantly admonished Recette, still unaware of what she did with Charme at night, but disapproving of it all the same...Recette cut off her thought train as she saw Charme on top of a plaza bench. It seemed to b her favorite spot to perch. Just yesterday Recette had managed to dodge all the knives thrown at her, but failed all the walnuts. Charme had started to throw six knives instead of five recently, which made her wonder how far this dodge training usually went...
Pushing away thoughts of monkey ninjas dodging hail storms of wooden knives, she stood ready and waiting.
"Six this time Recette. Ready? Go."
She jumped up, and Recette watched her silhouette as she threw the knives. She instantly side stepped and jumped back to avoid the closest two, twisting away to avoid a third and ducking under the forth one. She turned that duck into a dive to go under the line of a fifth knife, and sprang up in time to barely twist her body away from the last one, which went sailing by her nose, she went cross-eyed to keep it in sight.
Barely in balance, she saw Charm throw the nuts without warning or preamble, and Recette paled a bit, but showed no reaction as she jumped back and lost her balance, dodging one of the nuts as it splattered on the ground. Recette did not let herself sit there however. She let her momentum carry her, so that her backwards sprawl turned into a roll which let her avoid the splatter of two more walnut bombs. She popped up in time to dive to the side to avoid two more.
It suddenly struck Recette that since Charme had not warned her, she did not know how many of the nuts had been thrown...drat.
The last one splattered directly on her face, filling her face with the slightly glowing green. Recette, despite herself, pouted to Charme's cat like grin.
"Good. You're almost ready. Almost, but not yet. Again?"
She took out her handkerchief and wiped her face, taking care with her eyes. She shook her head violently before readying up again. She'd dodge everything that came her way...tonight.
+~-E-~+
I suppose you might be wondering why I am putting so much emphasis on teaching Recette how to move around, dodge and take hits. Well it's obvious for some, but she'll will need it for her plans, but I also need it for mine. This is the beginning of the main conflict for this story arc really, and preparation is a key for that. This "evolution" of Recette will be in use later, don't you worry...
I also might point out that since it's been so very, very long since I played Recettear, my memory on most things cannon pulls up a blank when it comes to Crystal Nightmare. Since it was end game content in endless mode, I remember paying it rather small mind except to prepare for it. I spent long blocks of time crafting and stocking up my shop, and thus have been able to provide a pretty realistic prep armor of what is most likely the best set up (at least for some characters) to forge into this dungeon. I tried to keep cannon as strong as possible, but like I mentioned earlier, that cannon is coming to an end now. From this point we are breaking off, and you might see events you most likely never saw before in Crystal Nightmare, and rightfully so, since, well, you know, you could never take more than one adventurer anywhere...(Or have they updated the game so now you can?)
About as far as I know, I think the Nightmare rehashes some of the old bosses in multiples and stronger versions? I might do this too, but not for every boss, and definitely not in the same order...(because, frankly, I don't even know the order it DOES go in...and if I do make it so, it would be a stark wild guess based on education, not experience.)
By the way, as of February 12th, I had an idea for this story which completely changed it's ending, or more like pushed it farther back. I originally planned the story in such a way that would probably bring about it's ending at the 100k to 150k word mark, but now I find I'm not satisfied with that, and by the time March 14th rolled around, I had two completely different endings in my head, both different form the original, and both longer. Now, as I am typing this on the ironic date of April 16th, I have discarded one of these endings in favor of one. I may still change it, but I don't believe I will waver it much. This new storyline though has a happier ending by far, but also a longer and more torturous road. =S. It's also rather closer in plan wise to be over 200,000 words, which is a dozy. I have done that before, as I have stated but still...Yikes. By my estimate that means this can go anywhere from 200k to 500k and that would be a dang record.
Worse, such a long convoluted story would certainly toss a few people off the already small boat, but it would also make up for the so few Recettear stories...
I'll flesh out the answer soon. Not sure if I'll tell you all if I do though. XD
It could be the monster Author notes, but this chapter is the longest yet for this story.
Why can't I stop talking! Arrrgh. Anyway...again, Griff popped up uninvited. I did not plan him to be there. He wants something from me, I swear, but his appearance does help establish some things.
Notes:
*1: Chinese, or Spanish water torture, was a procedure in which the individual was restrained and then had water slowly, drip by drip, unto their forehead or some other part of their body, though the forehead was the most common, because it let the individual see the drop coming and anticipate it's fall, and because of the sensitivity of the skin on that part of the body. The idea was that this would slowly drive the person insane. It have been proven to be plausible in it's methods in several tests, but testing usually stopped early. (Who wanted to actually see if a person is driven insane in this modern world after all? I can almost see someone reviewing to say "FOR SCIENCE!"...) Individuals who underwent this testing usually experienced muscle spasms, claustrophobia and other issues during the tests after only a few hours, making this form of torture a probable method. No one is certain however, if the Chinese actually invented this form of torture.
*2: I am aware, as people have pointed me out this before, that the word "kosher" is used for food prepared under certain dietary laws or is ritualistically pure, and those same people pointing out to me that the word is not being used properly by myself, however, I would like to again, point out, that this word also can be applied in slang to anything to mean "legitimate" or "authentic". I am using the word in this sense. =S
~ Finalage, C. F. Winchester.