Chapter 9 — Ghost? Probably a stealth boy!
The young Valkyrie student drew in a steadying breath, her fingers fidgeting with the edges of the package she carried. Alright, calm yourself, Kirino. You got this! Come on, this is a little gift, nothing more. Her pep talk did little to slow her racing pulse as she watched the elevator's digital numbers climb.
The soft chime announced her arrival, and she stepped out into the corridor leading to Sensei's office.
A wry smile tugged at her lips as her mind wandered back to the peculiar incident. The memory of the tank still baffled her.I mean, who puts a heating kettle inside a tank, anyway?The absurdity of the situation lingered in Kirino's thoughts, a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into place. Maybe it's the type of pieces better off missing into some far corner.
As she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the weight of the gift in her hands. This moment wasn't about questions or confusion — it was about her gratitude, simple.
"Let's see here…" As she counted the many numbers on the door, she mumbled. Sensei's office was on this floor when she inquired at the front desk.
Aha! Here it is.She paused, looking at the number that accompanied the door. Definitely Sensei's office.Well, better make this quick.After all, her partner is waiting for her outside after this.
The soft sound of her knuckles against wood punctuated the quiet hallway. Kirino paused, the moment suspended between action and response, until a voice called for her to enter. She stepped into the office, where afternoon light painted shadows across the worn floorboards.
"Kirino?" Sensei's voice carried notes of surprise at the kid from before.
"Sensei!" Her hand lifted in a small wave, the gesture carrying the lightness of her mood. The package in her other hand seemed to pulse with the weight of unspoken gratitude.
His eyebrows lifted slightly, creating small furrows in his forehead. "Well, I wasn't expecting visitors today." The words settled in the space between them, genuine and unguarded. A time just between her and her savior.
She extended her arms, offering the small package that had been carried by her. The wrapping caught the light, its surface a map of careful folds and corners.
"And I wasn't expecting any delivery today." He mused, eyes dropping to examine the unexpected offering in his hands. The package seemed small against his palms, yet its appreciation was large in the man's eyes.
"Hehe… No, Sensei. This is a small gift as a thank you." Her soft chuckle rippled through the air, a gentle counterpoint to the significance of the moment. His selflessness deserved recognition, even if he seemed unaware of its impact. "I mean it for getting us out of that tank and carrying me back to my friends." Kirino explained further her reason.
The man was taken aback. "Oh, well… Thank you." Kirino kept a look of excite as the man open his gift. She hopes he likes it — being something she picked up on a whim, considering she didn't know anything about Sensei.
"Oh!" In his hand a simple plaque that engraved were the words Kirino known Sensei as he'd refer to himself.
Thirteen.
"That's pretty sweet of you, kid." He noted as he looked into the brass plating before setting it to his desk. "There…" He said, noting now he looks somewhat respectable now with it. "Fits my style."
Kirino was quiet for a moment, that is what Thirteen sees but internally, she celebrated that he liked her gift.Yes!So worth it! Sure, she spent a small chunk of her saving to buy those brass to encase the metal inside — still worth her money.
Kirino remained quiet for a moment. Outwardly, her face betrayed no reaction, but inside, a wave of triumph surged through her.Yes!she thought, brimming with excitement.So worth it!She couldn't help but revel in the fact that he liked her gift. Every bit of the effort—and the chunk of her savings spent on the brass to encase the metal—had been worthwhile. Sure, it had set her back financially, but seeing it appreciated made the cost insignificant.
"Say, Kirino."
The sound of his voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She blinked, startled, and looked up at Sensei with a slightly flustered expression.
"Sensei?"
His tone was calm, yet it carried a certain weight, as if he had carefully deliberated his next words. He gestured faintly as he continued.
"Listen, I've got this thing going on that I need help with—secretary duty, to be exact. And I thought of you since, well, we've got that history from when we commandeered a tank effortlessly. No pressure, though. You can decide to—"
"Of course!" Kirino blurted out, cutting him off mid-sentence as she threw her fist into the air with an enthusiastic burst of energy.
Sensei stopped, clearly caught off guard by her immediate and eager response. He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching slightly, as though trying to suppress a smile.
"I… wasn't finished yet."
"O-oh," Kirino stammered, her enthusiasm faltering as a flush of embarrassment crept onto her cheeks. She quickly lowered her fist, hoping to downplay her impulsive outburst.
Sensei, however, remained unbothered, simply adjusting his posture as he resumed speaking. His tone shifted into something more neutral, almost businesslike, as if carefully choosing his next words.
"Listen," he began, "this work is just pushing pencils on papers. Maybe handling a few documents before we send them off from this room."
As he spoke, Kirino listened intently, nodding slightly to show her understanding. The explanation was straightforward, and she grasped the tasks he meant — mundane, administrative work. Filing forms, signing off reports, and shuffling papers, but she wasn't one to complain.
She met his gaze, giving him her full attention as he continued.
"And then," he added, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "there's also my personal favor." He paused for a moment, as though weighing the words before speaking them. "To show me around Kivotos."
The second request caught her off guard, but only for an instant.
"I just arrived at the city ah… Earlier this week and I didn't have enough grasp on where-…"
It didn't take long for her to process the meaning behind his words.Show him around Kivotos?she thought. It wasn't exactly an overwhelming task, but it felt oddly personal.
Internally, she could barely contain her excitement. A sense of victory bloomed within her, and she silently cheered,Yes! Another win!Though her outward demeanor remained composed, her mind was already racing with possibilities.
"Yes!"
"I — Well, I can't say no with that enthusiasm of yours." Thirteen nodded.
He pulls out a piece of document from his desk and slides it to Kirino. "Read this. I mean it. I don't want you signing into things without reading the fine print. Then hand it over to reception downstairs to be processed." Besides, that advice is coming from the moron who signed a deal to be in a movie — I genuinely thought I was going to be an extra or an unnamed bad guy — turns out it was for some porno about a wastelander banging dominatrix ghouls.
Yes, I didn't read a single one entire sentence on that paper — All I ever heard in my defense is that I could make a lot of money with how I looked and the amount of zeros at the bottom of the contract near here I would sign my name on.
Obviously, the rads didn't justify the caps anymore. I bailed when they asked me to talk off my pants.
With an eager nod, like a happy dog, Kirino smiled.
"I'll see that your name is added on the list. I'll put in a good word with the GSC and they'll will give you a call soon."
…
"Hm? What brightened your morning?"
The question was casual, spoken in an unhurried tone, but it carried enough curiosity to make Kirino tense up slightly. Her partner, Fubuki, was enjoying the opportunity in lazing around the reception area, lounging around while her body almost like it melted along the bench. One arm rested lazily on the armrest while the other propped up her chin, her gaze fixed on Kirino with mild amusement.
"W-what? O-oh, nothing," Kirino stammered, her voice breaking slightly as she fumbled for a response. She instinctively averted her gaze, her fingers twitching nervously.
Fubuki didn't reply immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she studied Kirino. It wasn't a glare, but there was something about the way Fubuki's eyes lingered — almost as if she could see straight through Kirino's flimsy attempt to brush off the question.
After a moment, Fubuki leaned back in her seat with a soft sigh, letting the tension in the air dissipate. Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk, but she didn't press the issue further. "Sure, why not?" she muttered, her tone as relaxed as her posture.
Oh, thank you…Kirino exhaled quietly. If there's one thing she can't put up, it is her own partner's teasing her all day.
Now? Now; The waiting game is left for her.
She hopes that the calls will arrive earlier.
"Urgh, could we stay here a little longer, the air condition here is pretty nice this time of day."
Back to Thirteen…
I am haunted by a ghost.
A ghost of a little girl.
Holy shit, if Bellgraves could see me now—the old bastard would probably keel over on the spot, clutching his chest. Heart attack…What a show that would be. The mental image alone almost makes me laugh.
Still, I can't help but think of him sometimes. Bellgraves, that radio show host with his night program about the supernatural or the fantastic. Sure most of it is bullshit, I think some of them are — some of them — but it's good entertainment when you're on the road or need something to pass the time listening to some wastelander tell a story how he was abducted by little green men that ask to taste his moonshine he was brewing in his brahmin trough. My personal theory on that? That bastard must be neck deep in alcohol poisoning, most likely.
Despite my talks with Bellgrave can't help himself slide in persistent nagging about tiny green people with hovering disk-like ships or near translucent people or a large feral ghouls size of a building with regular feral ghouls inside its body — this strange, elusive entity that stalks me — if he'd told me ghost are real I'd probably wave it off, call him delusional, or worse, drunk the moonshine I gifted him without adding Nuka cola to dilute it first.
But it doesn't matter. Bellgraves isn't here, and the ghost is.
Despite wanting to see him have a mental breakdown now that he's finally being affirmed in his ever endless streams of theories on ghost are indeed real and the number one skeptic that keeps visiting his trailer for various leads in his journey is now to his smug face admit being haunted by one.
That girl, I always find her lingering at the corner of my eye, just out of reach. A faint figure at the edge of my vision. Every time I turn my head, hoping to catch more of her clearer, she vanishes.
The usual spiel when I hear ghost hauntings, really.
If I'm being honest, though, she's not much more than a nuisance to me at this point. It's strange how quickly you can grow accustomed to the bizarre, the unsettling, and the outright supernatural. She doesn't threaten me, at least not directly.
No floating objects being flung towards me, no malicious intent so far.
She's there, I know it, or here — with me somewhere close by.
Still, yet, that's what makes it all the more puzzling. I have no recollection of her. Nothing in my memory ties me to this little ghost. No moment, no incident, no tragedy. That explains why I'm the one being haunted by all people?
My gaze drifts toward the desk in front of me. There sits the Shittim Chest, a worn and ancient tablet I've spent a whole night trying to crack open.
Though I have no proof, a part of me — a small, persistent inkling — whispers that these two might be connected. The girl and the Shittim Chest.
Not a coincidence when I opened that tablet and she just came to make small appearances to me like she has a stealth-boy with her.
What are you hiding?
The thought lingers as I pull back, sitting upright in my chair. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see her there, standing silently, watching me. But as always, there's nothing.
Only me and this ghost.
I stop mid-thought when knocks were coming from the door.Another one? For the love of g-
"Pardon for my intrusion… Sensei?"
The voice, familiar sounding to me, drifted through the door before I had the chance to finish cursing under my breath. I straightened myself instinctively, brushing a hand down my shirt in an attempt to look somewhat presentable.
"Yes?" I replied, my tone as steady as I could manage, given the sudden interruption.
The door creaked open slightly, revealing a familiar dark metallic-like halo.
Hm… Yuuka?
The light from the hallway framed her figure as she stepped into the room. Thick thighs, what I remember more about her besides the purple hair or metallic halo.
There she stood, the unmistakable purple-haired angel — the one who had saved my sorry hide not so long ago.
I leaned back slightly, trying to piece together what might have brought her here. Though my expression remained neutral, my mind was already racing.What does she want from me?
Well, I have a theory in mind.
"Are you also here for that Schale Secretary Duty?"
A stretch but.
"Y-yes. I was actually to help in assisting you with financing."
Aha… Financing… What, just because I got a new title now, I can't stoop down to haggle people? Probably.Guess my reputation stops me from lowering the prices. So much for raising my experience in barter. All that time reading books and watching crooks haggle people on caravans wasted. All for nothing now.
"I see." I pulled out another document or her to sign but was greeted by one fully signed from her already. "Huh… right" I nodded.
"Well your certainly… excited."
"I am here to help you with your finances. I heard that managing a bar is not the same as managing a finance to a city so I took the initiative ahead of the announcement. Besides, you can't juggle your responsibilities with the city and its people now could you? If you can, at least don't push yourself too much."
"Huh… Right." I echoed my words from earlier.
Whatever unfolded next was something that I could never have expected for this day.
"Why did you sign this? This is clearly a scam." Huh. Apparently, sending funds for cultural purposes to a carnival is not the greatest of idea. Perhaps terrible when Yuuka showed me this carnival is deader than Tandi with pictures showing it abandoned. Now someone using the old owner's name is asking handouts from Schale for a none-existent attraction.
Yuuka pinched the bridge of her nose, her expression a blend of frustration and obvious exhaustion. Her brow furrowed, and for a brief moment, she looked as though she might lose whatever patience she had left.
"Please tell me you didn't sign any more today?"
Aha! "I didn't." Because, as luck would have it,I'd already finished my qouta for the day.
Yuuka responded with a long, drawn-out sigh, one that I witnessed took out something out of her. Whatever was it? She set down the document she was holding with a level of care that didn't match the irritation written all over her face. I watched her closely, and then it happened.
The unimaginable.
I should have seen it coming.
"Good," she said, her tone sharper now. "because we'll have to redo everything to make sure nothing passes without my say-so and review."
Of all that is holy…
My stomach sank.Five hours.It had taken me five grueling hours to get through that mountain of work. Five hours of skimming through documents, but I'd gotten it done. And now Yuuka was telling me I'd have to go through all of it again?
Slowly, thoroughly, under her watchful eye?
I could feel the last shreds of my motivation crumbling into dust.
And yet, that wasn't even the worst part.
"I'm not leaving this room until you stop putting yourself into any trouble with money," she added, her voice firm, leaving me with no room for argument.
I stared at her, unblinking. My mind raced, desperately searching for some kind of witty retort or an escape route, but nothing came to mind. Instead, I just sat there, gazing at her like she'd just handed me a life sentence.
So that's how it's going to be, huh? I thought bitterly. For a brief, absurd moment, I found myself wishing I were stranded in a desert somewhere, dying of thirst with an infected gecko scratch on my thigh. That, at least, would be manageable.
I let my gaze drift over to the stack of papers on my desk—the ones I'd already finished. The thought of going through them again, line by line, was enough to make my shoulders sag.
But before I could even muster a proper groan, Yuuka cut through my spiraling thoughts.
"Of course, I'll help you," she said, her tone softening ever so slightly.
Well, that's something, at least.
"But," she continued, and I could already feel the other shoe about to drop, "that doesn't mean you're scot-free."
Her gaze hardened, and she crossed her arms as if to drive the point home.
"We'll split the work," she said matter-of-factly. "And I'll be watching you work."
Of course she would. I let out a quiet sigh of resignation, my earlier fantasies of deserts and geckos fading away as reality came crashing back down on me. This was going to be a long night.
Like a mother or a wife, she is.A sigh is the only contemplation I could give.
…
In another part of the building, a member of the SCHALE club walked casually through the corridors. She hummed a melody that was meant solely for her own ears. Clutched tightly against her chest, she held a small package, treating it as if it were a precious treasure.
This was her last task of the day, the final errand before she could clock out. After this? She already had plans. Her friends on Momochat had been raving about a new ramen shop that opened nearby.
She'd promised herself she'd join them as soon as this delivery was done.
As she neared the end of the hall, her pace slowed. There it was — the familiar, solitary door by this particular stretch of the hall.
But just as she reached the door, the muffled sound of someone yelling erupted from behind it.
"ARGH! THIS PLACE IS A PRISON! FOR THE LOVE OF THE ALMIGHTY, YUUKA JUST LET THIS GO ALREADY!"
The voice boomed with enough force to rattle her nerves, even through the thick metal door.
The SCHALE member jumped in surprise, her humming cutting off mid-note as she clutched the package tighter for a brief second. Her heart raced, and her eyes darted nervously toward the door as if expecting it to fly open at any moment.
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
Without a second thought, she quickly crouched, setting the package down on the floor. But instead of taking the time to place it carefully, she nudged it with her foot, giving it a gentle but kick so it slid to end just in front of the door.
Her job here was done. Technically.
Straightening up, she turned on her heel and walked away as fast as she can.
She wasn't paid enough to deal with whatever was going on behind that door.
…
"Sensei, calm down. You're just going to have to read this page, it's the last document left What are you a child?" Well, I would have liked to experience what it would be like once…
This is no way to live!
After that affair was done. Yuuka bade her goodbye with a terrifying promise of coming back. To make sure I wouldn't be cluelessly hand out money to scammers.
It was kind of her. A thoughtful gesture, really. At least, that's the promise I tried to tell myself. But deep down, I couldn't ignore the truth gnawing at me.
This is going to be my life now.From morning to night, an endless mental slog of paperwork. My fingers were no longer around a trigger or a hilt, but now a pen or a pencil.
This is a nightmare.
"You've did a job well done, Sensei. I hope you've reflected on today's event. Please, don't give away money like you're made of one next time." Yuuka sighed. Organizing the remaining paper.
"Yeah, yeah…"
"… It'd help everyone to know that city budget isn't being funneled into a scam."
"I know. Thanks for making sure I wasn't arrested for embezzlement…"
"You'd be surprised i have experienced dealing with those kinds of people before… Goodbye, Sense."
Yuuka closed the door. What a hectic Five hours it was, almost felt longer having to read those papers several times to make sure the smaller details were right. It didn't help Yuuka was just beside me, looking at my work.
"Goodbye."
"You've done a job well done, Sensei. I hope you've taken some time to reflect on today's events," Yuuka said, her tone a mix of exasperation and calm authority as she stacked the remaining papers neatly. "Please, don't give away money like you're made of it next time." She sighed, shaking her head slightly.
"Yeah, yeah…" I muttered, leaning back in my chair, too drained to muster much more than a half-hearted reply.
"…It'd help everyone to know that the city budget isn't being funneled into a scam." she added pointedly, her sharp gaze flicking toward me as if daring me to disagree.
"I know." I said, exhaling slowly. "Thanks for making sure I wasn't arrested for embezzlement…"
Yuuka gave a soft, humorless chuckle as she adjusted the last stack of documents. "You'd be surprised—I've worked with those kinds of people before."
With that, she straightened, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before heading for the door. She paused briefly, hand on the handle, and without looking back, said, "Goodbye, Sensei."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the room quieter than it had been in hours. I sat there for a moment, staring at the neatly organized piles of paper.
What a hectic five hours it had been. It almost felt longer, having to go through those damn papers over and over, combing through the finer details to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks. And Yuuka, ever vigilant, had been beside me the entire time, her sharp eyes trained on my work like a hawk.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I slouched in my chair.
"Goodbye," I mumbled, though she was already long gone.
Once Yuuka was gone, I was alone once more… with this ghost girl.
She'd been watching me earlier — peeking out from the edge of my desk like some puppy, wondering what I was doing. I caught her then, a fleeting figure in my peripheral vision. When I turned to look directly at her, she vanished.
I wouldn't blame, in the case i didn't want anybody to experience the things i went through earlier.
I sighed heavily, letting the pen I'd been gripping fall onto the desk.She's still here.
As if on cue, I spotted her again. Just barely. The faintest glimpse of her peeking around the edge of the table, her wide eyes fixed on me. The moment I shifted my gaze toward her, she disappeared again, slipping into nothingness before I could even register the details of her face.
Well, two can play at that game.
With little thought, I suddenly let my body morph, shifting as though a blanket had swallowed me whole. My form vanished from sight, leaving only the empty chair in my place. It was a strange sensation, being invisible — like sinking into the background of the room, blending into the space itself.
I waited, holding perfectly still, listening for the faintest sound, hoping to catch her off guard.
Wait… This makes no sense.
The thought struck me like a slap.
Why would turning invisible help at all?
But then, as quickly as I'd disappeared, my body reverted. The invisibility peeled away, leaving me fully visible once again.
I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the desk with the Stealth-boy data-module plugin turned off.
This was shaping up to be a long, confusing night.
…
"Hello?"
"Spirit can you hear me?"
Honestly, it could be some advanced stealth tech, and this little girl must be keeping tabs on me. That's certainly a theory I could stand behind with. Eh, probably. Never know when half-assed theories could probably be correct. Could be or could be some spirit trapped inside a tablet.
Holy Jesus, it could be some A.I hologram… Eh, probably.
It doesn't matter what she is; In the end, I'm still out as a lunatic screaming around an empty room that I only claim to be someone with that disappears into the air.
"I mean no harm." Then proceeding to upholster my revolver and onto the table.
"Please, this has gotten really in my nerves with you staring. The faster you show yourself the better I can understand why you think staring at people is alright."
Jeez, for all the stories about ghosts hauntings and possessions… This one just watches me instead and disappearing. Still no floating objects. No scary voices.
I think I have the world's most boring ghost. Wonderful.She must be afraid of me or something. That's why she hasn't made more.
Cue the memories from last night.
One where me, sitting alone in my office. The glass in my hand was smeared with fingerprints, the liquid inside sloshing slightly as my shaking fingers struggled to keep a grip.
Then there's I remember the crying; The broken yelling at no one, at nothing from half-formed accusations hurled into the walls, could somehow offer answers.
When my legs could no longer support me, I stumbled and fell to the ground. From there, I began crawling, tears streaming down my face, until I reached a toilet where I emptied the contents of my stomach. After that, I returned to step one, eventually passing out after a few more swigs and hurls, after mustering my strength once more until I everything blacked out.
Jesus,I thought, settling over me.Am I really that horrifying to even a ghost?
I pondered. Returning to looking for this ghost.
Course, she didn't show herself, typical.
"Kid, listen." My voice carried an edge of irritation, but I kept it steady, trying not to sound completely exasperated. "I'm too old for these hide-and-seek games."
The room was still, save for the faint hum of electronics in the background. I glanced around, scanning every corner, every crevice, hoping for even the slightest movement. Nothing.
"To be honest, I don't even like hide and seek," I continued. Never liked things I can't see…
My eyes darted toward the edge of the room, where a row of tables were arranged, their legs casting thin, angular shadows on the floor. For the briefest moment, I caught a glimpse of her — a figure crouching low, peeking out from behind the nearest table. Her eyes locked onto mine.
It was unsettling, but before I could say or do anything, she darted back, disappearing behind the row of tables like smoke slipping through a crack.
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair.Why did I expect anything else?
"So how about we just have a little chat," I said, raising my voice slightly, hoping she was still listening from whatever corner she'd retreated to. "Maybe about why you think it's okay to stare at strangers?"
No response. Not that I expected one.
I let out another sigh—longer and heavier this time. It dragged out of me with a weight that felt oddly disproportionate to the act itself, as though it carried something more than air. Of course, she's not going to show herself. Why would she?
Resigned, I lowered my gaze and fiddled with the Lil-Pip-Boy strapped to my wrist. Wonder what's playing tonight, I mused idly, thumbing the dial.
The menu on the screen blinked to life, displaying a list of stations I'd grown accustomed to cycling through. My finger hovered over the controls as my mind briefly wandered. I'd never stopped to think too hard about how the device managed to pick up these signals—or why. Stations broadcasting across regions, across ruins and chaos... it was one of those mysteries I'd decided when I arrived here not to question. It was easier that way.
Hmmm… My finger paused, tapping lightly on the casing. Let's try this station in San Francisco.
With a few quick, practiced taps, the screen responded, and a soft melody drifted through the speakers. The tune was gentle, soothing. Just what I need right now.
"You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold;
You're daddy's little girl to have and hold;
A precious gem is what you are;
You're mommy's bright and shining star;
You're the spirit of Christmas, my star on the tree;
You're the Easter Bunny to mommy and me;
You're sugar, you're spice, you're everything nice;
And you're daddy's little girl…;"
I sat back in my chair. If she won't show up. Then I won't run after her, that's for sure. My back resting on the comfy backrest.
In any case, it's going to be just be my new companion.
My gaze drifted upward, tracing the lines of the ceiling absentmindedly as I rested my head against the backrest. The quiet hum of my Lil-Pip's music filled the room, a calming backdrop to the otherwise uneasy silence. In any case, it looks like she's going to be sticking around.
A ghost. Christ's sake, it's certainly stranger than a talking deathclaw.
That particular memory made me grimace, though there was an ironic comfort in knowing that this wasn't the weirdest thing I'd encountered.
But somewhere, deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling.
Compelled by some instinct I couldn't quite place, I glanced down beside me slowly, cautiously, as if expecting to see her crouched there beside me. She has this confused look at my Pip-boy. A child like wonder I could see in her eye.
That elicit a sigh from me.
"You like that?"
So it was that easy.
She didn't disappear now. But the look in her eye, it was apprehension I could see. Built up courage or curiosity by me, I don't know.
I have to do something. Any moment she could be spooked away by me.
"Erm… hey, there."
My voice came out more awkwardly than I intended, carrying a hesitation that immediately seemed to unsettle her. The girl froze, her eyes widening in alarm, and for a moment, it felt like I had already failed. She looked ready to bolt, every muscle in her frame tensed like a coiled spring. Great work from me, I thought bitterly, trying to keep my frustration in check.
Need to show a smile. Just to earn a bit of her trust.
"Wait, wait now. It's alright," I said quickly, raising my hands in what I hoped was a non-threatening gesture. My movements were slow, deliberate, careful not to make her any more uneasy than she already was.
She didn't run, but the wary, apprehensive look she gave me was hard to miss. Her eyes flicked to every possible exit, and I could almost see the questions battling in her mind. Should I run now? Probably her thoughts by now. If I made one wrong move, she'd be gone again, disappearing before I could get another word out.
Stay calm, I told myself, forcing my posture to remain as relaxed as possible. "I just want to talk," I said, my tone softer this time, measured and steady.
I took a tentative turn on my chair as I fair her, watching her closely for any reaction. "A little talk, that's all," I continued, my voice low, almost pleading.
I paused, giving her a moment to process my words. "Can we do that?"
Her silence stretched thin, and I resisted the urge to push further. I knew better than to rush this. She needed space, and right now, that was all I could offer.
The white umbrella she clutched at her sides pointed at my chest as if it's a weapon, not a blunt object, but a rifle; slowly descended to my feet.
'Thank you. See, we can talk this out.
The little girl stood still, her small frame trembling slightly. Her wide eyes stared at me — like a suspicious person.
For a long, tense moment, she seemed caught in a struggle, torn between the urge to run and the possibility of trusting me — however slim that possibility felt to her. I stayed perfectly still, not wanting to give her any reason to panic.
Finally, almost imperceptibly at first, she nodded. It was as shaky, hesitant motion, her head dipping as if even this small act required all the courage she could muster. The movement was unsteady, like she wasn't entirely sure of her own decision but had chosen to try, anyway.
Her silent response finally reached me.
I exhaled slowly, careful to keep my relief from showing too much. I didn't want to scare her off again by reacting too quickly.
"My name is Thirteen. You can call me that." I introduced myself. "What about yours?"
"I-I'm… I'm…" She sniffed. "I'm sorry!"
"Woah, woah. Hey, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" I watched the little girl burst into tears.
"Woah, woah. Hey, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
The words tumbled out of me, rushed and uncertain, as I watched the little girl's face crumple. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over in uneven streams as she began to cry uncontrollably. Her small shoulders shook with each sob, the sound raw and unfiltered, cutting through the stillness like a jagged knife.
I stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. My hands hovered uselessly at my sides, caught between wanting to comfort her and not knowing if my presence would only make things worse. What happened? I racked my brain, going over the last few seconds, trying to figure out what I might have done to cause this.
She buried her face in her hands; her cries were muffled, but no less heart-wrenching. There was something about her sobs—so desperate, so unguarded—that made the air feel heavier, as if the weight of whatever she was carrying had suddenly filled the space between us.
"Did I do something wrong?" I repeated softly, the words almost a whisper now, though I wasn't sure she could even hear me through her tears.
I took a hesitant step closer, careful not to move too quickly and startle her. But I stayed far enough back to give her space, unsure if she would let me near.
"I'm sorry for what I did to you…" She stuttered and stammered her words as she heaved.
"I… What did you do exactly to me?"
"I… I… was scared…" Don't worry, kid, when an adult is still inebriated, always end in trouble. But what did she mean by apologizing to me?
"I was scared because—because I electrocuted you."
Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning, sharp and jarring. For a moment, I just stared at her, trying to process what she'd said. Holy shit, I thought, a cold chill creeping down my spine. So that wasn't some hungover thing I dreamed up in my head?
I'd woken up with a pounding headache, muscles stiff and uncooperative, my whole body feeling like it had been run over by something massive. At the time, I'd brushed it off as the result of a rough night — maybe too much to drink, maybe some bad decisions along the way — literally along the way to the nearest toilet.
But now...
Now, as I looked at her—her small frame trembling, her face pale, her eyes full of guilt—it all started clicking into place. The faint burning sensation I'd felt in my hands, the odd prickling along my arms that morning, the way my chest had ached like I'd been hit by a truck. That wasn't an after-effects of an hangover.
She kept her gaze fixed on me, her expression caught somewhere between fear and regret. It was clear this had been eating away at her, gnawing at her conscience with every passing second.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. So that's why I passed out when my last memory of her was looking down under my desk beore everything turned dark.
"I… I'm not mad, kid. But why did you have to make me go through that?"
Arona gave me an almost afraid look when I mention those words out of my mouth, but after a few moments and sniffs of her nose she finally decided to answer me.
"Be-because… You were crying and shouting at the wall that night…"
Ahhh.
"A-and, a-and started shaking on the ground, crying many names to help you."
That is… pathetic…
"You also held your weapon to your head with one bullet in the chamber and started cursing when the gun wouldn't fire."
What the hell?
"When you got tired of your weapon, you were stumbling around tossing and smashing bottles, and I tried to follow you, and I found you ended up on the floor crying and vomi—"
OKAY, I GET IT! I didn't want to hear anymore, couldn't hear anymore. It was too much. Pathetic. That word fit like a glove on me. The word echoed in my mind again, louder this time, insistent.
I kept my back to her, unwilling to let her see the way my face twisted, the way my jaw tightened and my eyes burned. Whatever composure I had left was hanging by a thread, and I wasn't about to let her watch me unravel all over again.
Well, now that my first impressions are mostly a bridge burned. Time to repair it.
I need to remind myself to study and practice child at heart perk sometime soon. Never was good talking to kids… Just like irony, the most useless perk encoded in my Pip-boy just became all important. Try to get inside how kids think. All that psychology shit doctors talk about at the Capital.
"I'm sorry, kid. You have to see me… sad — like that. And I forgive you for tazing me. I would to if I was in your position." Or just knock them out with the nearest blunt object. "Tell me, what's your name?"
A/N Update: Sorry to pull out the original chapter 9. I was unsatisfied with it after friends told the chapter was clumsy, lots or grammatical error and/or badly written. Rather than throwing this chapter to the trash bin, I fixed as much mistakes I missed and pointed out while also tweaking and adding new parts of the story.
Sorry for those original readers who wanted to read the chapter but were met by an error page. I just had to fix the story to be something I can share with you all. This was a result of a hectic schedule and several on-and-off free time at internship while I write. Lol.
Also, I might need to change keyboards since some keys aren't working properly unless I hit them harder than normal pressure.
A/N: Dang… First time joining a project during my internship. At least my supervisor and project lead are pretty chill with teaching me the ropes. So far, nothing much happening in my life lol. Just prepare for a local city holiday in the coming weekend. Lots of food that needs to be eaten by me and songs to be sung while drunk with my uncles.
Sorry again for the slow updates. Got a lot going on in my schedule. But once I ease into it and soon be comfortable to write more frequently.
Also, I'm currently stocking up Pyros for the inevitable arrival of Kisaki. good lord I need her. I need the Chinese triad boss. Skipped Kanna and Fubuki sadly. I really wanted both, but I stopped myself.
A small quarter of my paid internship will fuel my savings for Kisaki. Even if the pay is small.
In other updates: The stories will still have slow progress for now until I get used to my new schedule.
Another news, sad for Fallout 4 Vault 13 mod canceling. I hope Fallout Arroyo mod could pick up where the old team left after their own mod releases. Can't wait for me to go to the toxic cave early to grab the sniper rifle.
Also, since the chance of a fallout Van Buren remake is slim with the creator joining to work on an original game; the next greatest thing now I can support is Fallout Revelation Blues for Van Buren on the F3/FNV engine instead. They just release a teaser for Burham Spring location. Pretty nice, pretty nice. Seems like their Twitter is on an anti-brotherhood streak, which is funny because I've written past 13 as anti NCR before becoming anti-brotherhood after concluding on the tech-hoarders being the greater evil of the two.
Kerrowe:Very good, it's still too early to get anything to be understood in the story that is set in the past — these small flashbacks is just snippets for now and has no large meaning than a 'what the hell' moments for readers and 13 himself. If you think 13 killing himself in a cycle is strange then prepare for what's ahead in 13's lonesome when students' aren't with him. Real mindfuck.
But thank you for the complement in the present time parts, since more of my focus, of course, is on those parts.
Mnass: Arona apparently didn't trust a total stranger that was crying to himself while drinking. Any child would be afraid.