Frank and Amethyst leave the store, heading back toward the ‘Served hot and cold’ -cafe.

“Taking advantage of us like that…”

Frank kicks a small dry branch as they walk, fallen from a nearby tree. It clatters along and stops, a bit closer to the small grassy growing space of the one that had dropped it.

“At least we got to meet some of our fans, that was fun.”

“Well, you’re right about that. But still...”

Amethyst stares at Frank’s chest, more specifically, the new article of clothing he now wears.

It’s a stylized artwork of Amethyst’s face with heart-eyes, and yellow sparkles shooting off its lovely pink aura.

Above is her name in a flowing font, and below reads a phrase: ‘A blade after my own heart.’

“Did you have to put it on…?”

“What? Don’t you like- you?”

“That’s not what I mean...”

“Alright, alright.” Frank zips up his green jacket, hiding the shirt.

“There, but now you won’t see anything from underneath my jacket, are you sure you can keep walking?”

“Ha-ha... I should find one of those mysterious stores and get some merch of you too...”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

Frank turns to Amethyst.

“I've still got my old shirt in my backpack and we can stop somewhere to change if you want. But, is it really that bad if I keep wearing your cute likeness?”

“Ah-”

Amethyst looks away.

“When you put it like that... I guess it’s fine.”

***

Frank follows his mental map, keeping Pirjo’s instructions in mind, they should soon arrive at the cafe.

Meanwhile, Amethyst thinks back on the impromptu fan meeting and realizes something.

“By the way… I was wondering, why did those other Sapients treat that blue-skinned lady, the one who looked like Pirjo, so different from everyone else?

They parted from her way and looked at her strangely... it’s not like she smelt bad or anything.”

“Oh, you mean the Sinel? Well, apart from acting a little confrontational, she... well... it’s because of her species.”

“Just because of... what she is?”

“I mean, because of the shared history between Sinels and Metropolis.

Remember when I told you about the Spire Disaster before? That’s just a nice name to cover the disaster and war in one.

And both of those were caused by the Sinel.”

“Oh…”

“Their race killed millions of humans directly and indirectly, so it hasn’t been easy for them to adjust to our society after their warmongering leadership was eliminated and they chose a path of peace.”

Millions…

She knows it’s a lot, but it is difficult to even grasp its real magnitude.

I’ve seen plenty of people on Midnight Iris and here… but…

Would it even be possible for me to see a million different people in a lifetime?

“It was a great tragedy for both sides. To this day, Sinel children bear the mark of hate from those times, even those that weren’t even born back then.

As a result, their species has been making amends ever since. They’ve forsaken their own culture, in place of emulating humans, their clothing, mannerisms, everything.

They can even emulate our speech remarkably well.”

“Their culture…?”

“Yeah. All in the hopes of disguising as us—becoming humans—so that they could lead a normal life here.

To that end, all of them wear the red visors too, in order to see in the same way with their red eyes, as we do.”

Frank looks at Sapient species passing by, and his gaze lingers on a Sinel. He has a distinctive area around him, that nobody enters.

Some ignore him politely, while others stare as the hoodie-wearing everyday-Sinel passes.

“They don’t seem to realize just how futile their efforts are when even the slightest glimpse of their skin is enough to reveal their identity.

Not to mention the use of the red glasses and many other things giving them away. Or perhaps, they do it regardless, because that’s all they can do to atone...

Even after they have earned the lesson that taking a new home planet via force was a terrible idea, they have not found large-scale acceptance.”

Amethyst thinks back to Pirjo, and what Frank told of his parents’ history.

“But, some do, even if they thought otherwise before.”

“That’s right.

It’s a slow process, even if Metropolis’ administrative government has tried its best to be fair to them, the real government—the citizens voted in favor of discrimination against Sinels.

So, you can spot signs in many places where they are not permitted to enter by law and additionally, their citizenships are permanently stuck in what is basically a half-citizenship mode with voting rights.”

“That doesn’t seem right... but... it’s strange... which one is in the wrong?”

“It’s tough for both, isn’t it? For the Sinel that carry the stigma of their past, and the people who are still hurt because of their ancestors' actions. History can’t just be erased.”

Frank sighs and shakes his head.

“Regardless, let’s keep Pirjo’s words in mind, today’s agenda for us doesn’t include solving all the Galaxy’s, or even Metropolis’ problems.

And let's not give that toyshop manager any more space in our heads either. Let's try and enjoy our time.”

“I agree… Thank you for telling me this, Frank. There’s so much I still don’t know, even with the basics that Amande granted me...”

The Sinels… a species who are outsiders in their new, only home...

...

“You said that those not even born during the war are discriminated against; are there still Sinel around who fought in the war?”

“Why? Are you interested in finding veterans to talk to?”

“... I’m not sure.”

“Well, be as it may, Sinels have long lives, so many war veterans are still around. However, it doesn’t help their case in the slightest.

It doesn’t warm many hearts when you can still come across somebody who could have been on the battlefield and killed your father or granddad for all you know...

Even the Sinel whose shirt you signed could have had her hands tainted with blood.”

Amethyst stops.

“I’m... a Tyrchid, but that does not mean my blades have tasted human blood. Or the blood of any Sapient species!

Don’t say, that she must be the same as her other kin! You don’t know that...”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that... Of course, it’s not a given. It’s just… it’s hard to tell which of them fought in the war because... How do I say this?”

Frank thinks for a moment.

“During the war, all the Sinel were the same, incredibly cruel, showing no mercy, committing terrible atrocities… but as soon as their leadership was slain, the war ended on the spot.

They all surrendered and stopped fighting. Ever since then, they have been just the opposite, repentant, submissive, and apologetic. It’s like they were not themselves at the time.

It’s said that they were manipulated, but no scientific proof has been found to support it. It’s likely only the now-dead leaders know the truth.”

“Manipulated…? So, they are innocent?”

“Even if it were true, does manipulation absolve them of guilt, of responsibility?”

“I’m… not sure. But I think… they probably harbor similar feelings and grievances as humanity. They have to live with what they have done.

Regardless if they were aware or willing at the time.”

Frank looks away for a moment and gazes at the distant top of a skyscraper.

It pierces the clouds and drowns in them, its top not being visible. The tallest building on the whole planet as of today, dating back to before the disaster.

Nowadays, known with a different name than back then.

“You’re probably right…”

“Frank…?”

“Oh, I was just thinking back to my parent’s past…

Are you interested in history? We can visit the museum if you wish to know more about Metropolis and its people.”

“Yes! That’d be nice.”

“Alright, it’s located in Integrity though, even if it's an adjacent quadrant to Compassion, it's still some ways away.

So, we’ll have to go there by bus or some other means, but I’ll try and make time for it today.

You know, I’ve still got plenty of things planned, or well, things we could do if you’re up for them.”

“Ohh! I can’t wait!”

“But first, let’s find this highly recommended Cafe.”

Amethyst and Frank continue on along the streets, taking in the sights, spotting new shops and Sapients neither had seen before.

Soon enough, Amethyst spots their destination.

“Frank, over there! It’s the Served hot and cold!”

“Over where?”

Frank squints, and can barely make out a sign and a storefront that could be it, further down the street.

“Let’s check it out.”

They walk over and look the place over. The cafe has a large classy sign on the wall, reading the cafe’s name in three rows.

Next to the ‘hot’ text, is a beautiful bust of a maid, her species being unclear, similar to the stern but gallant upper-body figure of a butler next to 'and cold'.

To the side of the name, above the door, appears to be the logo; a golden crown with horns curving out from behind it.

Frank weaves through a few outdoor tables to get to the large display window. Presented in it are various menu items: delicious-looking desserts, main course meals, and soups.

At the edge of the glass is a rather large display, showing only a number: 17.

Looking further, inside the actual Cafe, there are a lot more tables and throngs of customers, among them, Sapients dressed in strange uniforms criss-cross all around with dignified haste.

The strange outfits bear a striking resemblance to what Pirjo wore earlier, at least, the women’s do.

“Is this… really the place?”

Amethyst answers the rhetorical question.

“Of course, that’s what the sign says?” Amethyst gestures toward it, her head tilted.

“That’s not… anyway...”

At the cafe's door, two employees stand, a maid and a butler, welcoming customers in.

The butler, a humanoid bull, dressed sharply in a formal tuxedo, a monocle on his other eye, and a pocket watch to boot.

He converses with a group who seem to be regulars, his strong voice is rather audible even from a distance.

The other one, also of the Bomal race is a goat person with sublime curved horns that shine with care and health.

She wears a feminine maid outfit and has just finished welcoming in a party, as she turns to look at Amethyst and Frank expectantly.

Frank and Amethyst make their way toward the entrance, stopping to read the folding sign near it:

“Served hot and cold—The first new-age maid cafe, inspired by the book: ‘The Duty of a Maid.’

Everyone welcome!”

It also goes over the rules of the cafe and service available, but they both get caught right to the very start of it.

“Frank, what is a maid cafe exactly?”

“You know, I have no idea either.”

Overhearing the conversation the maid walks up to them, her hooves clopping against the cobblestone.

“Please, allow me to answer. Maids and butlers are humble servants that take care of their masters every need, a sort of housekeeper if that rings more of a bell.

In a Maid Cafe, we give our customers the experience of being cared for by a maid, or a butler, who personally gives them exemplary service, catering to their every need.

Sort of more personal bartenders of old, we also listen and converse with our Masters, aiming to entertain, comfort, and solve their issues, while serving delicious food.”

“They sure are a lot of things…”

“Sound quite old fashioned… though I suppose the concept isn’t bad in itself.”

“That’s because the tradition dates all the way back from Earth.

In fact, the scriptures, books and digital archives mentioning and detailing the concept of housekeepers, maids, and Maid Cafes have existed for a long time.

But it wasn’t until recently with the writing and publication of a certain fictional story, that the concept was brought back up to popularity, after thousands of years.”

“Really? That’s news to me.”

“If I may suggest, I recommend reading ‘The Duty of a Maid’ co-written by the siblings Lyn and Brin Diamore.

It’s a story told from two perspectives, painting the day-to-day, burdens and joys of the two main characters, maid Alyna and butler Fabrin on a beautiful canvas.

They do their utmost to help their customers with their problems, in the process getting tangled up in conspiracies much too big for them.

At the same time overcoming their insecurities and troubles while the two siblings have no idea of each other’s struggle, or how they both see each other.

Ah, it’s such a touching story. You can purchase a copy right here in our store.”

“Do you think Pirjo set us up? Does she have some sort of for-profit contract with this place?” Frank whispers discreetly to Amethyst.

A floppy ear of the goat-Bomal twitches and Frank realizes his mistake.

Her long face smiles wide. “Pirjo? You know her?”

Amethyst nods. “She recommended this cafe.”

“Ah, I see. Little wonder, since she used to work here. She still visits us from time to time, much to our delight.”

“Why did she leave?” Amethyst asks.

“By chance, I might say.

She happened to see this job application offering education and a position as a replacement nurse taking care of some unfortunate couple.

She decided to take it, claiming it would be a position where she could do more good. We were sad to see her go, so we let her keep her uniform, hoping she’d come back one day…”

The maid briefly glances at her Bomal colleague, who's not looking their way.

“Have you seen her recently, how is Pirjo?”

“She’s doing well. Who knows, she might return here soon.” Frank says.

“Oh... I see.”

The maid seems to catch on to the implications that would lead to her return.

“Thank you for indulging me in this selfish conversation of my personal matters. I hope I have not overstepped or made you uncomfortable.”

They both shake their heads.

“Full glad I am to not have fueled your ire. What fortune to have such magnanimous patrons.

Now, let’s get back on track.

Master Amethyst, Master Frank, have I convinced you to dine with us, on this lovely morning?” Her hooved hands clasp together.

“Master…?” Amethyst asks.

“My apologies, I assumed… If you do not like the term, what sort of a title would you like instead?

Perhaps: Miss, Duchess, Queen, Princess, Empress…? Please, feel free to suggest anything.”

All these other titles are a bit much... although... would it be disrespectful to be asked to be called... a Goddess?

Amethyst shakes her head.

“Master is fine...”

“What about you, is ‘Master Frank’ agreeable?”

“I suppose so… how’d you know our names? Actually, never mind...”

The maid smiles knowingly with her wispy white goat beard whisking in the slight breeze as she guides them to her colleague at the door.

“This is Ismael, he will show you inside.”

“Pleased to meet you, esteemed guests, please, come with me.”

The bull-Bomal bows his head and gestures to the double doors in front of them before taking the lead himself.

“Thanks.”

Frank steps on the inviting red carpet lying on the street before the doors, and looks up at the vines lining the door frame, that blossom in large blooms of pink and yellow.

Carefully, Amethyst follows and steps on the carpet, but it seems to be made of sterner stuff than she could have imagined and her sharp legs don’t pierce it.

The light brown wooden doors of intricate design slide open automatically, disappearing inside of the walls, as Ismael occupies the right side of the doors, keeping them open with his presence.

His hand is extended towards the cafe, and with a bowed head, he waits for Frank and Amethyst to enter.

They pass the threshold into the spacious indoors, and first hits the slightly warmer temperature and the scent of that sweet street corner bakery, mixed in with the rich smell of cooking and spices of a restaurant.

Decorated wooden tables of slightly altering sizes are spread around evenly with masterfully crafted details of swirls and curves on their legs and edges.

Their tops are covered with white lace tablecloths, which transform gradually into pretty patterned fabric toward the middle.

Almost all seats are taken, occupied by all sorts of Sapients and groups, those who have arrived alone, now accompanied by a maid or a butler.

Friend groups talk loudly and erupt in laughter periodically, some of which are told to quiet down, and couples sit by candlelight, mostly at the edges near the walls.

It’s a harmonious mess, somehow all of these people using the cafe differently fit together in one space.

The maids and butlers inside are as diverse as the clientele: some have thick and long tails, others have horns or other appendages in various places, their one unifying factor being the theme of their clothing.

Some only show their eyes, otherwise covered entirely, perhaps for the safety of themselves or their patrons, while some are hardly covered at all be that head or body.

To Amethyst’s fortune, some of the servers are rather tall, likely playing a part in the rather high indoor ceiling.

Although, she still has to crouch a little, whenever there is a chandelier in her way.

Ismael leads them to an empty two-seater table near the window, Frank sits with his back to the window, leaving Amethyst with the corridor seat.

“Here is our menu.” The bull-butler hands Frank a menu, and then as he is about to give it to Amethyst, he realizes a problem.

“Master, please allow me to hold it for you. Just tell me when you’d like the page to be turned.”

Ismael takes a knee and holds the menu before the seated Amethyst.

“Oh! If you don’t mind…”

“Of course not, I am simply doing my duty. However, if this is not to your liking, I may also read the menu aloud to you instead, if that would suit you better?”

“This is quite okay- I mean... adequate.”

“Understood.”

Amethyst’s eyes shift and track along the pages, taking in the information, her nod being a signal for Ismael to turn the page.

As she reaches the end of the menu, she looks at Frank, who’s glued to his thin red leather book.

“Frank… have you decided?”

Without moving a muscle, he glances at Amethyst just by shifting his eyes, before looking back at the menu.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Oh… I don’t know either. That’s why I asked… It’s hard to decide when I don’t know what anything really tastes like…”

“If you do not have any dietary requirements and are feeling indecisive, I would recommend the ‘Horizons of the day.’”

Ismael flips Amethyst’s menu to the special section.

“It is a full-course meal from an assortment of dishes. Food—hot and cold—and snacks from a wide selection that changes daily.

It is a great way to expand your culinary horizons and discover new favorites that you can then order more of in your next visits, or right away, of course.”

“Hmm… I see.”

“It offers different meals for the both of you, appetizers, a main course, and a dessert.

We can keep it a complete surprise, or if you have some requests, we can take them into account to suit it more to your tastes.”

“I want my dessert to be some sort of ice cream! And… no soups, please.”

“Very good, so it shall be, Master Amethyst.”

“I don’t really have a preference, perhaps something with fish in it?”

“Certainly, Master Frank.”

Frank lifts his gaze from the menu, but his eyes snap back.

“Oh, and…” Frank takes another look at the prices on the menu.

“Since Amethyst has a half-citizenship and has no wealth to her name, she’s eligible for one free meal a day. Can we use that to pay for her portion?”

“Ah, I see. Unfortunately, the Welfare Act does not cover meals that contain a full-course meal like this. Technically this would be three meals.”

“Oh- right, sorry. I wasn’t sure of the specifics...”

“No need to apologize.

In fact, since this is our esteemed Masters’ first time here, we would be honored to allow this arrangement despite it. To do less after such a sincere query would certainly tarnish our reputation.”

Ismael’s eyes glance at Frank, his brief gaze sending a clear message to not expect such charity again. He receives Amethyst’s Citizenship ID from Frank and scans it.

“If you have no further requests, I implore you to wait, while I go check up on other customers, your food will arrive post-haste.”

Ismael looks at the two of them, and as there is no rebuttal, he leaves.

“Metropolis is amazing! Free food on demand—it’s just like my home!” Amethyst rejoices.

“I’ve never thought about it that way, but I suppose it is.”

“Is there anything you don’t have here? You’ve already got the trees, nature, and animals so close by, and now, free food as well!”

Frank laughs.

“Well… this 'Mealfare*' hasn’t been in its current form for more than a few hundred years. So it’s still a bit new, at least, I think.

However, the principle it is based on is a key part of the constitution of Metropolis: taking care of its citizens.

It keeps crime born out of desperation in check, by providing means to survive to those not so well off.”

“That’s nice.” Maybe I should start thinking about things like these for Midnight Iris… what if ISSA asks me about its laws and customs?

“It is. Even if I was a bit reluctant to return, I really love this city. And, well, the whole planet too. This is one of the many things I feel it does right, not that everything is perfect, mind you.”

“Seems pretty perfect to me.”

“Well, as far the welfare aspects go, I can’t really complain. I think it helped us out of a few tight spots in my childhood.

Not that I knew it back then, but later on I’ve pieced together that we only ate ‘take out’ when things were tough.”

Frank sidetracks to talk about some events from his childhood. Amethyst enjoys listening to him talk, but it feels a little awkward at the same time.

Not because of kid-Frank’s shenanigans or the events he regales, but because the nostalgic glint in his eyes seems so foreign to her.

Amethyst eyes wander to the big screen dominating one wall of the restaurant, showing names of five hundred restaurants, numbered from top to bottom.

‘Served hot and cold’ appears at the very tail end of it momentarily, before disappearing back down into obscurity.

For someone without a past, would that be her fate too? There is no nostalgia, no memories to be had of somebody who appears from thin air.

Of somebody who fades away once her brief time in the spotlight is over?

Now everyone is watching her, but once she either succeeds or fails at the court of ISSA, there’s no telling if anyone will remember her.

No… she doesn't need others to remember her, as long as at least one, specific person, does.

...

She has no past… but as much as she lives in the present moment now, just like there’s always a future, what were her past experiences with Frank, if not her past?

Upon that realization, a yearning look of days passed appears on her face, pulling up her lips and tinting her eyes with shine.

I get it now.

***

* The Anti-starvation and Desperation Act, has a section called 'Mealfare' by many, that allows Sapients who are proven to be under a certain wealth amount, to dine twice a day at participating restaurants for free.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Each restaurant is allowed to set its “quota” of free meals they will serve for each meal period according to their preferences and capabilities.

The system is surveyed and managed using the citizen’s ID cards and the individual must be able to present it to be eligible for this service and have remaining dining opportunities left for that day.

For all of these dishes that are served to the needy, Metropolis pays back each restaurant 70% of the meal's price, and as a further incentive, the restaurants that make it to the yearly Top-500 Meal Welfare leader board, are all paid a sum of money, that exponentially rises the higher the position.

Along with being able to advertise themselves as a great benefactor and contributing member of society in their ad campaigns and physical locations.

Apart from the number of dishes served, the leader board takes into account employee amount, net profit, dish prices, and total amount of restaurant locations, to objectively rate the chains that are doing the best in providing to Metropolis and its citizens without disparaging the efforts of smaller businesses.

While this system is rather expensive to maintain, it has been calculated time and again, that the cost of healthcare, mental health services, and a decrease in crime pays it back more than enough to keep it a priority for Metropolis to maintain along its other supporting Welfare systems.

***

“I apologize for the wait. Here are your Horizon dishes.

A refreshing Metropolis’ special salad for Master Amethyst, and a delectable silver birch slug sautéed to perfection for Master Frank.”

Ismael lays down the dishes in front of his patrons and puts down a crystalline jug of citrime-flavored water along with two glasses. Then he bows and leaves as they thank him.

“Hmm…” Amethyst looks between her and Frank’s plates, the sizeable golden slug simmers on Frank’s plate.

It’s crispy as he lifts it and dips it into the few droplets of sauce artistically spread around the plate, before slurping the whole thing into his mouth.

“Mm… What?” Frank wipes his fingers clean and taps his lips with a napkin.

“Nothing…” That looked delicious…

Amethyst shakes her head and takes a closer look at her salad. On top of a few green leaves, and as equally green grapes, some sort of walnuts, and three slices of no-doubt, local peach.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Of course...”

Amethyst is about to lower herself to eat off the plate, but she notices a few gazes from other customers. Wondering if she’s doing something wrong, she straightens herself back up.

She surveys the area and spots everyone else using cutlery to eat.

A fork and a knife are the most common utensils, though, one person has chopsticks, and a very pale-skinned person also uses his incredibly long and sharp fingernails to skewer meat and pop it into his mouth.

“Is the dish a bit too green for you?” Frank asks before sipping some slightly bitter and sour water from his glass.

“It’s that too, but...”

Amethyst uses one of her dagger hands to try and stab the grape, but its elastic surface makes it bounce off onto Frank’s plate.

“Woah! Careful there.”

“Uhm… you can have that…”

“Cheers.” Frank impales it with a fork effortlessly and gobbles it up.

Rrgh…

Amethyst stabs the walnut next, and it shoots off like a bullet somewhere neither of them catch sight of.

“Maybe try to be a bit more gentle with it?”

Amethyst cools her nerves, and slowly and deliberately stabs the slice of peach.

Success!

However, when she attempts to lift it, it slides off. No matter how she tries, the juicy fruit slice slips and slides from his grasp time and again.

The more she stabs it, the more it breaks apart and gets hacked into smaller and smaller pieces.

Frank watches the growing frustration of Amethyst, feeling sorry and at the same time, trying not to laugh. As he’s about to ask if she needs help, Ismael arrives next to their table.

“Ahem. Dear patrons, would this walnut belong to you?” The bull-Bomal firmly places the nut on the table.

“Y-yes…” Amethyst answers and looks up at him.

“I hope that you are not taking advantage of our goodwill, to play such lowbrow pranks in our establishment.

I was informed that another of our reputable Master’s got a nasty whack on the head from this.

You can surely explain this, can you not?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to eat this dish. You see-”

Amethyst stabs another walnut, and it flies off, hitting the front window with a resounding ting.

Everyone, be they a maid, butler, or customer, hears the sound and quiets down for a fleeting moment.

“Young Miss,” Ismael has grabbed Amethyst’s wrist, but a touch too late. He promptly releases her arm and looks away.

“No need to demonstrate further, I believe you.”

Hot air puffs out from his large nostrils and he takes out a napkin from his chest pocket, and starts to shine his horns.

Both of which have metal knobs at the end of them, decorated with gold and silver, but in a refined way, without making them gaudy.

After this extremely quick clean, Ismael tucks in the cloth, and turns back to Amethyst, seeming more composed.

“Master Amethyst. If you have trouble eating you should have relied on us, help in our establishment is but a call away.

Since I am here now, please, allow me to assist. I will feed you.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

“It would be my pleasure, Master Amethyst.”

From his belt, he lifts the cover of a toolbox-like pouch and takes out a blunt butter knife, and a rather big spoon, his chosen arsenal for this endeavor.

He spins them around with his four rather stubby fingers, surprisingly dexterously before starting to load up the spoon with salad.

“Are you ready, Master?”

“Yes.” Amethyst opens her mouth wide, and the sharp mandibles shoot out. Ismael stops for an almost undetectable moment, before proceeding as normal.

He tips the spoon into Amethyst’s mouth past the grasping appendages.

Frank watches in exasperation for a moment, before turning his head away.

Looking around the restaurant, tapping his fork against the napkin on the table soundlessly, his eyes wandering everywhere but at Amethyst.

He pours himself some more water, which he only proceeds to rotate in his glass.

Amethyst looks at Frank in confusion while being fed, this isn’t the reaction she was expecting from him.

She thinks about how to broach the subject, but cannot come up with anything, not even anything else to talk about. The growing uneasiness of the table consumes her thoughts.

Before she knows it, the most bland meal of her life is over, only the very faint trace of peach lingering in her throat.

“Master, do you require anything else?”

“Ismael, would you give us a bit of space?”

The Bomal looks at Amethyst and nods.

“Very well. Call upon me, should you require further services.”

As soon as the butler is out of earshot, Frank starts talking.

“Amethyst... I-”

“Maybe you should have asked earlier if you wanted to feed me, instead of snickering at my struggling!”

“I… I’m sorry...”

“No... it’s not your fault. I’m just kidding... well, half-kidding. While it would have been nice of you to volunteer yourself at any point... I should have just asked for your help.”

Amethyst smiles awkwardly.

“Communication is a two-way street, after all. I thought I had learned that already.”

“Thank you, Amethyst. I should have tried harder myself as well...”

It just… I couldn't bear to look at you being fed by another.

“Though… it’s still embarrassing to always have to ask for help...”

“I get that-”

Ismael arrives with the next dishes.

“Already?” Amethyst asks.

“I do not mean any offense, but it did take your table rather long to finish the appetizers.” He says as he distributes the plated food without looking at her.

“How come her dish looks to be as hard to eat as the last one?”

“I deeply apologize, but the dishes were already being prepared during the last incident. If you wish, Master Amethyst, I can assist you in consuming it again-”

“No, it’s fine! I can do it on my own this time!”

She meets eyes with Frank.

“And even if I can’t… I know who can help me.”

Ismael nods with a warm smile.

“Very well. However, I am confident in your abilities, Master Amethyst.” he bows and takes his leave.

“I could switch dishes with you…”

Frank looks down at his creamy fish soup, which has potatoes and some other vegetable garnishes he cannot quite recognize.

With it, came a small plate of salty caramel fudges, the cubes stacked on top of each other in a presentable pile.

“...if mine wasn’t even harder for you to eat.”

“It’s fine, Frank. I’ll give it my all this time.”

“That’s good, and… what else?”

“And... I won’t get so carried away...”

“With that, let’s dig in, shall we?”

Frank uses the small fork that came with the separate fudge plate, to drop one cube into the soup. The already soft caramel starts to melt further.

He waits a moment, before he chips a part of it, filling the rest of the spoon.

He brings it to his lips, and smells the wonderful aroma, before devouring it, savoring the combination before swallowing.

“Mmm, what a combination. This is the best Fish Caramel soup I’ve ever had!”

Meanwhile, Amethyst has a large plate of rice, stacked into a circular mound, with limetrus slices around it, and some of this sour juice already squeezed on top of it.

On a separate pot-like shallow plate, she has what is undoubtedly curry, with meat of unknown origin mixed in a thick sauce.

On yet a third plate, she has more green salad, which she decided to ignore entirely.

“That’s nice. I’m not that impressed yet.”

Amethyst carefully stabs a piece of meat, the juicy piece stretches as she lifts it, but stays intact. With a shaking blade, she manages to drop it in her mouth.

It delightfully slides down her throat, the trails of sauce leaving a slight tingling hotness after them, along with so much flavor.

“I’ve never tasted something so much before…”

She skewers another piece, “Frank, you’ve got to try this!” And offers it across the table to Frank.

He looks at the blade pointed at him for a second.

“Alright, just keep still, and I’ll get it.” Frank extends his fork toward the meat.

“No! Use your mouth! It’s my turn to feed you!” She slightly shakes the sideways blade.

“Ah- right.” Frank looks at the blade, and then straight at Amethyst’s aquamarine eyes as he puts her mouth around the tip of her blade.

As he pulls the meat into his mouth with his teeth, his upper lip touches her blade’s side.

It feels like a smooth stone, eroded for centuries in fierce rapids, but instead of freshwater and fish, it tastes like curry sauce.

He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but there’s also a hint of the sweetness of Pango berries from her dagger.

Frank pulls away.

“Yeah, you- it tastes really good.

I mean… Y-you’re dripping sauce all over the tablecloth, let me get that for you.”

Frank gently takes hold of Amethyst’s wrist and starts wiping her blade clean with a back-and-forth motion, like petting something soft.

Each stroke of this affectionate and meticulous napkin cleaning carries meaning, showing Amethyst that new emotion, she recognizes by name now.

It takes over for a moment, reminding of those previous times when he took care of her like this.

The warm and fuzzy feeling of those times resurfaces along with this new experience layered on top, like savoring a tuft of meringue on your tongue, sweet and fleeting, dissolving before long.

Once Frank finishes, her blade feels brand new, like something that you don’t know is dirty, until it's clean again.

“Thank you.” Amethyst reflects herself on her crystalline blade.

“Of course. Don’t be shy to ask for help, because I love helping you.”

“Oh Frank… I love helping you too, whenever I get the rare chance, at least.”

“Don’t worry about that, besides, who is keeping count?”

“True enough.”

They get back to their own dishes, and before long, Amethyst succeeds in emptying her pot of meat, now left with just a lot of sauce and rice.

Frank looks over and recognizes her plight.

“You know, you’re supposed to eat the rice with the meat, otherwise it’ll be really bland by itself.

However, that doesn’t really matter-” Frank takes the sauce pot, “if we do this,” and pours it over the rice.

“Wow! You can just do that?”

“Of course, now it should taste much better and maybe make it easier to eat for you.”

“Right.”

With one hand, Amethyst scoops rise on the side of her blade. Much of the rice crumbles away like a sandcastle, but the foundation remains.

As she begins to move her hand, despite its stickiness and long grains, the foundation of her castle tips backward.

Apart from a paltry few pieces, it all sinks back into the white sea of her plate.

“Ooh, that was close.”

She tries again, only to fail once more. She learns that once a segment of the rice hill is separated and loses its form, it’s not getting its firmness back.

Amethyst sighs deeply and comes up with a new strategy.

Using both of her blades like a wedge, she shovels up a veritable feast of rice at once. It’s a firm grip, although as steady as two knives pressed together could possibly be.

Frank watches in silent anticipation, eager to see her succeed.

Despite Amethyst’s brilliant idea, she has a new problem.

How is she supposed to eat off of her wedge? It’s much too wide to drop rice straight into her mouth, and moreover, the scoop is facing the wrong direction.

She looks around, a few people are looking at her, at least it was less than before.

I’ll eat the way I can. The way I want.

They can all look if they want to.

She brings her hands higher, but her form gets more unstable, the more she does, so she also cranes her neck down, to meet it halfway.

If nothing else, maybe she can still nibble some of it up with her mandibles.

She wants to know what rice tastes like, even if she might not be able to chew and feel its texture, it’s still going to be a new experience, a new sensation.

Even if apparently it’s supposed to be quite bland on its own. Though, thanks to Frank, she’s going to have enchanted rice, blessed with sauce.

Suddenly, her front armor hits the table, unable to bend any further forward, she instead brings her hands even higher.

Her blades shake the higher they go, the grains of rice jumping off one by one, until her wedge fails, and the rice explodes into the air, raining down upon the table.

The cause: her elbow blade hitting the ground due to the angle, causing a shockwave that proved impossible to recover from.

“Aaaaagh! I can’t do it! It’s impossible!” Amethyst’s wrists impact the table.

“I give up-”

Amethyst’s wailing is interrupted.

Something is wrong.

On her right arm, something feels strange.

It’s heavier, like something restrains it slightly, like a sudden weight presses on it.

A strange sound emanates, right behind her. Something gurgles, like blowing bubbles on the surface of water.

Amethyst lifts her gaze, opposite of her, Frank is unmoving with a neutral expression.

“Now… don’t panic…”

“W-why?” A grim feeling grips at her insides. “What is there to…”

She notices everything is quiet, the bustling and chattering—all gone.

Her right arm shakes slightly without her input.

She looks behind her.

Like a knife through a juicy cake, her long elbow blade has impaled a man from his back, straight through his chest.

Amethyst shoots up from her chair, the man slides off her blade, and slumps to the floor face-first with a splash of blood.

Her legs tangle and collide with their table as she recoils, sending the pitcher of water and their dishes to the floor, shattering and clattering.

At that point, the whole cafe comes back to life. People shout and scream, run for their lives, or are left paralyzed in fear. Some of them point, blame and call her with incriminating names.

A maid with a completely covered face, with only slight blond curls pushing out, comes in between Amethyst and the man, shouting something she cannot comprehend at the moment.

A maid and a butler, one of which is Ismael, appear and drag the man a bit further away, before starting to treat her with a first aid kit.

The bull-butler glances at Amethyst, giving her a look that can be interpreted only one way.

W-what… What have I done?

All sound is muddled, sounding like it's way too slow, or too fast, simply incomprehensible.

The masked maid spreads her thick arms in a confrontational manner, with her shoulders, she’s like an iron door barring Amethyst’s way to the victim.

A human woman tries to jump from behind the maid at her, in response, Amethyst takes a few more steps backward and makes a table fall.

The muscular maid stops the unknown woman and takes her away, with her absence, the view opens up closer to where the man is, but he is now concealed by the maids and the surrounding upset crowd.

What is happening…? I- I was… then- what-

Amethyst averts her gaze to the floor, but only the initial blood of the man awaits her there.

A trail of blood snakes across the floor, toward her feet. Like a touch of it would kill her on the spot, she dodges away from it and knocks more tables and chairs aside.

“Ame-”

Was it my fault?

Did I… kill him…?

When I brought my arms down… my elbow...

“Amethyst!”

The world's sounds come back to normal, the cacophony is deafening.

“Amethyst!”

She lifts her gaze, to see Frank in front of her.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I…? N-no… Frank, stay away… it’s not-”

She takes a step back, her leg gets caught in a tipped chair, she almost trips, and takes support from a table with her blades, the white tablecloth is ripped apart, almost cleaving the table in half.

Red bloodstains splatter onto the table.

“I-I didn’t-”

Her legs visibly tremble and buckle.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Calm down, Amethyst!” Frank says and approaches, his hands raised.

“Please, it’ll be okay!” Frank walks towards her with careful, deliberate steps, but Amethyst retreats again.

“S-stay back!” She lifts her dagger hands in front, but her eyes catch a glimpse of her right elbow blade.

Drip...

From her violet blade, from a part of her, falls the vital fluids of another Sapient being.

This cannot be real.

She looks back at Frank, his eyes flush with worry, his mouth a contorted line. He still holds her hands up.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he takes another step.

“Come on, Amethyst.”

How do you know that!?

What if it was?

My… kin killed those humans… ate your friends...

What if I’m just the same?

...

How could I ever think to forget that? How could I dream of fitting in?

Maybe it’s best I can’t see his bloody corpse right now...

Who knows what could happen if I did...

...

I thought… I could pretend to be something more, just because of this… curse Grent gave me.

“Hey? Amethyst! Are you listening?”

Drip...

Should I even try...?

What does it matter anymore?

I’m done.

Even if today was great… it’ll all just fade away.

Frank’s going to abandon me. But I suppose that was always going to happen.

It was a miracle he stuck around after that horrible scene anyway...

And it was my fault he had to kill another person...

I should be glad that 'us' even happened...

Now that it’s...

Over...

“Amethyst!”

Frank’s words and a loud ripping of fabric, tear Amethyst’s morose thoughts asunder.

“It was an accident.” Frank’s voice is soft, as he speaks from close, suddenly right in front of her. His voice is a soothing melody, sensual like a whisper to her non-traditional ears.

On his right hand, a large torn piece of tablecloth. He places his right hand on Amethyst’s chest and leans on her for support to reach her elbow blade.

He begins to clean up the blood from it with the ripped tablecloth.

Amethyst watches in shock, unable to get a word out, or take her eyes off Frank, completely overwhelmed for a moment.

“Are you not... afraid?”

“Truth be told... in the past, I was a bit scared of you. But not anymore. I know you’d never hurt me. That you’d never hurt others willingly. That much is clear.”

How can you say that with such frustrating confidence?

How do you know that?

“…”

Even I don’t know that...

Frank finishes his cleaning and throws the bloody rag over his shoulder. He looks up to Amethyst’s shaken eyes.

“It’ll all be alright.” He hugs her tightly.

“A-ah…”

“I promise.”

The sirens of the Galactic Police sound in the distance, growing louder.

“Do you… want to flee?” Frank asks as he feels the uneasy shaking of her body.

“Yes...”

“I won’t let you.”

“I know...”

Amethyst hugs Frank back, her bladed hands curling across his back.

“Thank you… for everything.”

“Of course.”

Amethyst's chuckle is dry and hollow and she struggles to speak.

“It’s a strange thing... how you can calm me so... Without you, I...”

“Don’t say it. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“...Liar.”

The warmth and pressure upon her armorplates increase until it suddenly ends.

Frank backs away, and Galactic Police officers surround them, he holds his hands up, and Amethyst follows his example.

“We will come along peacefully.”

“F-Frank? But you didn’t do anything!?” In response to her, Frank just smiles while he’s being cuffed.

“B-but!” Amethyst allows her hands to be brought behind, and she is cuffed tightly around her wrists.

“Be strong, Amethyst,” Frank says before he’s taken away by a swarm of officers.

A Galactic Police officer speaks to her, as other officers hold her arms.

“You’re coming with us, come on, move it.”

“Frank…”

The words of authority don’t register, it’s like a thick mist lays all around, like a haze fills her mind.

“Do you hear me? Walk!”

One step at a time, Amethyst is made to walk, the officers helping her along. Her surroundings are filtered out of her mind and sight during her escort.

The whole scene, all of this is so sudden, like a bad dream. One moment she and Frank were walking around town, having fun at the cafe, and then...

How could this happen?