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My name, Ophi A.

Afternoon steak, marvelous.

Basted seven times.

—Ophelia Akachi, Age 14, Progressia.

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A type of poem called Hikes that Papa taught me.

One to remind me of simpler times an eternal four hours ago.

Such a lovely period of my life that I used to share with people I love so near and dear to my heart. Papa, who was stronger than any other, and Kiki, otherwise known as Kyrie Tistatraitor, someone I was lucky enough to call my backstabbing best friend, BBF, for short.

What a lovely person she is to bless me with such a horrid time in my life.

Ah, simply dreadful, is it not?

“Here we use pressurized force to meld the substance with Kayla members who specialized in…” Our tour guide Donald Kayla explained away like he had been for the last four hours as we went through the ground floor of the factory. Unfortunately for him, I just could not give even an inch of my attention, unlike Kiki, who seemed to be fascinated at every turn, asking questions and happily greeting everyone she passed.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of her social skills, especially since I peek out from her back to wave every once in a while.

Bzzzzzzt.

That is the sound of my eardrums with every word the big nosed yet decently toned man continued explaining. The amount of physical work he must do is a lot. My face cheeks felt stiff from masking my displeasure with such a forceful smile and even though Aaron, Arthur and Donald had bright yellow around them, I…I just couldn’t. It's all too much for me, especially when they started going on about their formulas and stuff.

‘In one ear and out the other‘ is what Papa would call it, and yes, Kiki was still carrying me the entire time. But despite all my boredom, I’m at least glad she was having fun because I definitely would’ve run out the door if not for that.

Did I say glad? I meant absolutely livid — well, sort of. I am glad but also livid that she dragged me here. Glavid and why, you may ask.

Seeing the grey gel pill go into the pressure cooker was one thing, but watching the tasteless clay-like substance being churned by a well-meaning but tasteless worker totally killed my excitement.

A fun sucker. Actually, I should make some confections using some of these methods when I get home.

I can’t deal with anything related to that dull dully, uh, dullness and you know what made it the absolute worst, the entire time I had my power on and I couldn’t turn it off. Everyone in the factory would spot me and their aura would light up all excited yellow and when I wave back trying my best to be courteous, they’d get even brighter.

How am I supposed to react to that?

Their faces didn’t show it but on the inside were popping with joy, so I wondered if my eyes were reading them wrong and worst of all, that glow made me feel frustrated, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“Is something the matter, Miss Akachi?” Donald asked, brimming with the same energy inside as the others. However, this time, he smiled. It was a faint one, but it was there. He is so navy-blue, earnest and yellow well-meaning on the inside that it conflicted with what Papa always told me about the people of Progressia.

“Oh.” I said, finally realizing why I felt this heavy feeling in my chest.

It’s guilt.

I’m guilty for being so disrespectful at something he and the others seem so proud to show me. They glow like no other happily showing the result of their work and here I could not give them the decency to pay attention. If I had any courage to talk about my interests, they’d listen intently and so should I.

It’s wrong of me, and I shouldn’t treat them like that.

Papa may think less of them, but I can’t. How could someone like me who has accomplished little ignore someone gladly putting in their all, even if it was something I didn’t like?

The answer is: I can’t.

At the very least, I should respect them enough to give my full attention, especially considering that Aaron and Arthur listen to me if and whenever I spoke.

“Ah, uhm, yeah. I-I-I just,” I frantically scout around to show some sign of interest in anything and then I notice a nozzle above the cookers pouring tiny glittery dust into the formula, “That.”

“I do not understand what you mean by ‘that’.”

Of course, Donald got confused. If someone just said ‘that’ without pointing or looking at anything to show what it was, then how could anyone figure it out, well anyone except Papa probably.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Ophi’s just a lil nervous. C’mon Ophi ya got this.”

There she is again. That gentle aggressiveness that’s so uncomfortable but at the same time…nice. I could never have made it here on my own and even though I didn’t like where I was, the fact I got the chance to go somewhere outside my house with people who honestly didn’t dislike my presence felt amazing.

I nod and point at the large vat mixing rainbow sugar like crystals. “T-t-that t-thing. W-whats-s that-t-t.”

I did it. It came out.

My voice let out what I was thinking... well, a summary of what I was thinking anyway, but it’s a start and it did wonders. Donald was vibrant yellow joy again, then to my surprise, blue disappointment.

“Apologies Miss Akachi. We do not have the details on that ingredient.” Donald somberly blue says.

“Whaaaat, but ya make it, dontcha. How ya gonna not know whatcha put in it?”

Thanks Kiki, it was exactly what I wanted to ask, sort of.

“Information on that specific material has been restricted by our current head of Progressia, Francis Morrigan. If not for that, we would have done further research on that material unhindered.” Aaron sullenly blue sighs...probably. I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to tell.

That’s weird. Like really weird.

Papa always said Progressia is all about information and learning so wouldn’t keep stuff a secret stops that and who’s Francis? I knew that most people had either Morrigan or Kayla last name, but I’ve never even heard of this Francis guy.

Then again, I’ve never left my house up till now, so not knowing things is not all that’s surprising.

“Indeed, that is quite peculiar, Donald,” Kiki says, attracting all of our attention. “That must mean that project must have halted. Odd.”

Since when did she use words like ‘indeed’ and ‘halted’. It’s as if she’s a completely different person.

When I see Kiki’s face, she had on a slightly worrying look, but it also seems like she is figuring something out; deep in her thoughts, which made me think that if she stopped talking weird and restrain her open behavior a bit, she’d look like a cool, intelligent type of lady.

“Heh. That’s whats going on. Ani you know what I mean, right? Yes, it cannot be anything other than that. The missing piece, right? Well, mystery solved.”

Oh, never mind. We’re back to normal, Kiki.

There she goes again into her own little world clarifying nothing to us, but at least she seems to know what those sugar crystal things are, so I might as well ask.

“Ki—.”

“May I inquire such knowledge from you, Miss Kiki.” Aaron asks.

“That is the shortest thing you’ve ever said and before ya ask, no, I can’t tell ya what I found out.”

“How come?”

“Don’t wanna get y’all in tru belle.”

Kiki?! That’s a dangerous game you’re playing! What if Papa, no, he’s definitely listening somewhere in the shadows.

“Unfortunate. I had theorized that understanding the multifaceted improvement of language will ascend our mental capacities nearing Syrus. Thus, my speech pattern is my self-imposed experimentation.”

Kiki pauses in place with a crumple expression emanating her deep concentration.

“He mea—” But before Arthur could finish, Kiki shoves her hand in his face.

“I got this. Just gimme a minute. Ani you too.”

And then the three, er, four counting Ani, I guess, of us stood there, well aside from me, quietly watching Kiki’s brain try to analyze Aaron’s comment.

I didn't really understand, but he said something about using fancy words means you're smarter, which kinda makes sense since our brain handles all our abilities.

Well, except for me. I don’t use formulas or anything, it just sometimes works when I want it too and then sometimes it doesn’t like right now.

I’m not sure how words play a part of it, but I guess it’s like brain training. Kind of like when Papa and I play board wars, a game where you collect information with horses and castle pieces, you move on a large map to beat your opponent. Papa used to win all the time, but now he can’t beat me anymore. Fun, but it could take days to finish playing even a single session of playing. I should teach Kiki how to play, but I don’t know if she has the attention span to play it.

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“Ah!” She finally figures it out…I hope, and it only took five…six, it was ten literal minutes. “It’s like Mimi. Longer chants make his stuff explode more. Hm hm,” she said, nodding to herself. “And y’all thought I was dumb, didn’ cha.”

What does that even mean?

We all look at each other silently, agreeing to never answer that question to spare her feelings.

“S-so what else is h-here?” I ask.

“Would you like to see how we form the pills and ship them around the city?”

“Why ain’ y’all answerin’ me? What da ya mean yer in a business meetin’? Ani!”

Aaron, Arthur and Donald move to an area where the pills look fully from moving across the assembly line laid flat on a tray by telekinesis users.

‘Pay attention’, I told myself, using what brain power I had left to focus.

There were ten of them and each one moves trays twenty at a time into the next section where it dried. The people cooling them had a variation of abilities: somewhere able to set the pills temperature to certain degree without destroying it, others would use traditional methods by using kind of ointment before chilling them and others placed their hands over them and poof they were done.

By far the cooling process took a lot more people than the other ones since the machines help make most of the incomplete product with a couple people using their limited power to mix the ingredients together manually. But even if it was that trivial, the fact they came in every day ready to do it without so much as a complaint made me want to do something for them.

Oh! I have an idea.

Aaron and Arthur want to know more about the food I made, but I didn’t or rather can’t explain to them very well or even…at…all, anyway, I don’t think I will be able to either.

But maybe. What if? I think it’ll work.

“Um.” You could barely call it a whisper, yet they all heard my little voice and focused their attention onto me despite all the heavy machinery, which then I naturally respond by burying my head into Kiki's nape once again.

Then another idea came to me.

If I can’t talk to them, why not get Kiki to do it?

“Um Kiki.” I whispered in her ear.

“Princess, that tickles.”

Kiki, this is super serious, so now is not the time to joke around.

The other three were reasonably confused and I really hope that they didn’t have amazing hearing.

“What’s up?”

“Um, can we talk…over there?” Pointing over to an empty area. “Privately.”

“Hmm.”

“Pleeease.”

She shrugs. “Okay, but yer gonna tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Deal!”

Kiki waves at the three, attracting their attention, then said, “Fellas, Ophi and me gonna go over there to talk, can I ask ya not to pry?”

With a synchronized nod from the three, Kiki and I went to the other side of the room, where there wasn’t anyone, and she set me down. “So, what’s up?”

“I, um, wanna do something, but I can’t really say it well…in front…of them…so…” I could feel my voice fading until it just completely peters out. I could still see their sights on me, along with everyone else.

Kiki turns around assumably, getting a grasp on the situation, “Ah, that’s it, huh?” Then, out of nowhere, she tucks my head close, pressing me against her chest. I never noticed it before, but Kiki is a bit taller than me. Not like an entire head bigger, but just enough so when I lean a bit, I met her chest.

“Kiki, um, uh, this is a little em—”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just listen.”

I didn’t feel like I could question her at that moment. All I could do was follow her instruction and…and…

Then I heard it.

It was the first time I heard it outside of my own. So vibrant and rhythmic like a knife descaling a fresh fish. Her breathing is calm, beats matching mine with symmetrical timing on her exhales and inhales, soothing away any discomfort. It’s a need I never knew I wanted, so I welcomed it with open arms and hugged her back.

“Feel better.”

“Mhm. Yeah, feels nice.”

“Aw, so can ya tell me what ya want?”

“Okay.”

With all my anxiety flush out of my system and my legs feeling weightless like a fluffy soft moist bite of cake straight out of my oven. I want to live here right on her chest for the rest of my life, sinking deeper into her warmth. It was like my bed but ten times more relaxing and my bed was enough to make a war hardened soldier fall to pieces, or at least that’s what Papa told me.

“I wanna have a good job food party.”

“Ya really got soft hair, y’know that?”

“Mhm.” Her fingers were rough but wove a breath of fresh air between each strand she strokes. “I wanna make them something to eat so they know what it’s like.”

“Whys that?”

“Cause they work hard so I wanna do something.”

“Awww, ain’ that a cute way of thinkin’. So why am I here, then?”

“I can’t talk good when people look at me, so can you tell them?”

“But yet talkin’ good and I’m lookin’ at ya.”

“Yeah, but you’re different.”

“Uhhh how?”

“I dunno, it’s weird, but with you, my brain and mouth work together and don’t work with everyone else.”

I’ve never thought about it too much, but it was really weird that Kiki felt so natural to talk to. At first, I thought it was her power or something, but now I just don’t know, but it felt just like Papa was only different somehow. It was all too familiar, yet so strange because we barely knew each other. I mean, although we met a few days ago, it felt like an eternity ago.

“Gotcha, I’ll go tell em so wait here.” As she turns to leave, something in me compels me to tug on her uniform jacket. “Hm? Was there somethin’ else?”

“I wanna come too…”

“Think ya can talk to them?”

I shake my head. “No…”

“Kay, follow me. Let’s go!” Kiki yells, pulling my hand along with her.

Where does she get this energy from and how is she not tired from talking to all these people? She talked to everyone we passed and had conversations with most of them.

Kiki went over to them with me clinging to my face, planted on her oddly hard back, avoiding everyone’s sight and, more importantly, not wanting to let go of her. As embarrassing as it was, I completely drained my social energy for today, so I had no strength to go against my already stressed retreating instincts.

As she spoke, I took peeks around me and in the beginning; they seemed yellow excited at first, then red frustration until finally blue disappointment.

I guess it wasn’t a good idea after all.

We go back to the corner, and she tells me what they said.

“Ophi, they say they can’t do it…”

That was it then.

Even if I wanted to do something for them, if they didn’t want it then there was nothing I could do.

“…unless ya can make a couple hundred thousand pills in an hour.”

“What?”

“Yeah, they still gotta work, y’know to supply Porgoshia so they can’t take a break.”

“Hundred thou—, whats a Porgoshia?”

“Y’know the city’s name. Porgishia.”

“Oh. Kiki’s, it’s called Progresh- gressia.”

“See! That name is way too hard to say.”

It is most definitely not…to most people.

She’s stubborn about it so I didn’t wanna continue the conversation, that and we should talk about the pill stuff.

So, judging by the aura shift, that must mean that they want to eat my goodies, but also need to work, which made them disappointed. I get that and I don’t wanna cause them trouble, but really want to reward all the effort they put in showing me around.

What should I do?

Obviously, the best choice is to get Papa to do it because he can do anything if he sets his mind to it, and that's the biggest issue, which Kiki probably knew.

The problem is mainly because I’ve been pretty spoiled recently. I got to live with my best friend, a sixty percent ingredient increase to feed Kiki and even a new recipe, so I don’t know if he’ll like me asking for more. He loves spoiling me so much and I love him for it, but he also knows when to stop. I remember when I broke my stove and almost burned myself. He wouldn't let me cook for an entire month and made me eat whatever I could fish just to survive.

If I get too greedy, Papa will scold me, but if I’m too reserved, he wants to help me. Papa’s just weird like that.

My birthday passed recently and bi-weekly present fifteen days away, so those options are gone too unless I exchange them. Now that I think about it, I think I am a bit too spoiled by Papa. I mean, Kiki mentioned she had never heard of someone getting bi-weekly presents from their parents and it shocked her when I told her about it.

My head was spinning, trying to figure out a way to convince Papa. Even if I didn’t know how or what I could do to convince him, I needed to because I want to do something for them. They’ve been so nice and patient even when I was rude earlier, so it makes sense to pay them back for that kindness.

“I-I’ll do it.” Again, too quiet for them to hear, yet they still notice.

“Do you perhaps have a solution to this dilemma?” Arthur asks out of nowhere; I knew it was him because I could understand it and he didn’t sound that old.

“Um.” I eloquently respond.

“The Princess probably means she’s gonna talk to her old man about it.” Kiki says loud enough for the entire room to hear, on purpose too, I bet.

The room fell silent. I mean, the loud bustling factory suddenly turned into a silent warehouse, which is the second time that Kiki silences an entire room today. Not a lot, but strange for a single day.

“Y-y-y-you can mobilize Syrus?!” Aaron yells. I think.

It’s raspy restrained yell and to be honest, that is the first time I heard someone beside me stutter, much less whisper yell like that.

“So ya can yell, sorta.”

“Y-y-yes, b-back to mat-t-t—”

“Hey, he kinda stutters like ya, Ophi.”

If that’s what it sounds like, ugh gah, how lame am I. I’m gotta work on it so I stop sounding so lame.

“Kyrie Testament.” Aaron continues after composing himself.

“Yeppers?”

“If I understand what you said correctly, Ophelia Akachi can mobilize Syrus.”

“U-usually. N-not all…the…time.”

“She means she got it, so let’s have a party in like, I dunno, since its first day, then seventh day, durin’ evenin’ dinner then.”

“Most certainly.” Donald agrees.

Then the room fills with the chatter of the other workers gossiping over the new information, which did not help my anxiety at all. I tug on Kiki's shirt, signaling that I want to go home.

“Well, it’s gettin’ late fellas and I need to take the lil lassie home.” Kiki cuts through a long stretch of her body. “Wanna walk or me to carry ya?”

I latch onto her back. Probably the easiest decision I could have made all day. Well for now, I still have to do something about Papa, but that’s future Ophelia’s problem. Right now, I feel a tad sleepy.

As we left, I couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming feeling of gratefulness. If Kiki didn’t force me to come along today, then I would’ve never seen this factory or all the nice people like Aaron, Donald, or Arthur.

“Thank you, Kiki…for today.”

“Awww no sweats. I just wanna show ya that Porogoshia ain’ all bad. They got good people if y’know where to look, so if anythin’ happens, ya can trust that kiddo at the very least to help ya. He ain’ got a nasty bone in him. Trust me on that.”

“If you say so.”

“And I do so.”

Maybe it was because it’s over and all my stress left me or Kiki just being so easy to sleep on. Either way, I felt my eyes growing heavy and dozing off.

“It’s okay. I’ll getcha home, so nap away.”

“O-oki…”

For the first time in my life, I am happy that the pill existed and, most of all, for this experience. Today has been so fun that I couldn’t help but giddily wait for the next to come with Kiki and then at this party full of delicious food. I can’t wait.