Lorry snapped, a flame appeared on her finger. The trick had something to do with anima, I figured. The green-haired woman lit the cigarette with the flame. The training hall was empty since everyone left.

“Don’t dwell on what Donovan said,” she puffed. “He actually has some endearment for you.

“You know that smoking is bad for you?” I rhetorically asked.

“Smoking is bad for me? That is the first that I’m hearing this,” she stated.

“There's evidence behind my claims.”

“Oh, what evidence?”

Evidence, there had to be evidence — she got me there. There was proof back on earth, but I was in Pland. A place with little documentation on tobacco.

I have to make something up; or else she’ll get suspicious. “You tell me how inhaling black smoke is healthy?” I thought of a good enough reason. “Tobacco is known to be addictive, smoking will only cloud your mind.”

“You’re starting to sound like Donovan,” she threw away her unfinished cigarette. “You know, these cigarettes aren't cheap. Quite the opposite really. For your sake — I won’t smoke in your vicinity.”

“A gesture of goodwill? I honestly doubt your honesty. Donovan had never been so tense as when he was around you.”

“We have a — complicated history together. As team team members, rivals, and as lovers.”

“Wait, as lovers?” My ears jerked.

“Yeah, as lovers. We were so different back, so young and impressionable. But that was a long time ago. He never made a move on me since, or would look at me in ‘that way’. Our relationship is strictly professional. The past is the past, catboy. I moved on. Besides, shouldn’t you be handling your own love affairs?”

“I have no relationships that need caring about,” A certain woman came to mind, “ and for your information, Thousand Cuts and I are not dating!”

“Who said anything about ‘Thousand cuts’, hmm?” I recoiled from Lorry’s question. “But that's none of my business. You ought to come to the stable. Follow me, I can show you around.”

— — —

The stables were more like a garage than a barn. It housed motorcycles, vehicles, and anything with a motor. All those rides made me realize how out of touch I was with the lingo. They called them motorized carriages. I called them cars.

There was a motorized carriage right in front.

Lorry unlocked the one door, and I meant one as in singular. That was the only entrance to getting in. Like all the other technology in Pland, the vehicle was a massive heap of metal. The vehicle was similar to the first commercialized cars.

She opened the door. I half expected the smell of tobacco, yet I only picked up a fresh scent. The leather seats were slightly worn, seating for two. The exterior had a wax coating. So she can take care of her belongings, I approved.

“Here,” she tossed me a metal lever from inside her motorized carriage.

“Huh? What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked.

“That is a hand crank. You use it to start the carriage by twisting. The ignition is located outside, to the front end.”

I pinpointed the spot where the ignition was, I stuck the hand crank inside. My hands twisted the arm, nothing happened. I studied the lever, then twisted the ignition harder. The engine humed to life.

“You got it working?” she asked, I handed her back the hand crank. “I thought you would have some trouble. That part is always the most difficult the first time. Here, how about you sit in the driver’s seat?”

I guess she fancies me to drive, “L-like this,” I get into the seat. My feet just touched the pedals. I was so short that my ears were the most prominent part from the windows.

“Have you ever ridden a motorized carriage? Scratch that, stupid question,” she referred to my amnesia. “I feel like it’s the perfect opportunity to learn how to operate a vehicle. I can guide you along, and give you directions if needed.”

“Don’t I need a license to ride?”

“License? Oh! I got the proof of ownership in the storage compartment. You should be fine.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Riiiight,” that wasn’t what I meant!

My ears twitched as I pulled the stop lever. The gear had two shifts, a forward and a break pedal; no reverse. Seems simple enough. I can drive safely.

Oh, there's no seatbelts.

— — —

The motorized carriage drove through the pre-built highways. I passed by the dirt roads of Snakewater, and the grandiose pavement of Sector One. We went down Banana road, which was unremarkable in comparison. Lorry and I cruised by the other carriages.

The carriage took a bend when I saw the hospital. I parked the car. There were over vehicles in front of us. Lorry got out, she locked the door behind me.

I touched my beating heart through my chest.

“That was an ordeal,” Lorry said. “I expected you to ride slowly. I guess I was mistaken. With such a valuable piece of equipment too. you never slowed down for the other carriages.”

“I wasn’t going fast. The problem was everybody going slow,” I crossed my arms.

“Remember to go slower next time.”

“Next time? You say it like I have to ride for you again,” I pouted.

“Don’t forget why we’re here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

We got out to the health center. I noticed the institution wasn’t as good, nor prestigious as the hospital I went to. There was less sanitation, with a moderate amount of grim, though respectable.

The staff were definitely more timid. which allowed us to waltz in Grubbs’ room. Their reaction had to do with Lorry's status as a 1st class Imperial.

“Alright, this should be the guard’s room. I’ll be out for a smoke. I can wait outside until you’re finish” she said.

“Outside the building, right?”

“Nah, that’s too far of a walk, I’m going to the waiting room.”

“...Of course.”

I felt that the hospital wouldn’t even attempt to stop her. Donovan was probably correct, I should be careful around her.

Dolores’ footsteps echoed through the hallway.

I peeked through the door. Grubbs laid on the bed. I steered myself, and knocked on the door. The guard looked up. A can of soda labeled ‘Fresh Cola’ was on the table.

“Mekiko, I never expect you’d be here so early,” Grubbs sat up.

“I rode all the way here, and barged in with the help of a 1st class,” I told him.

“As weird as that sounds, your story checks out. But, you didn't have to go out of your way to see me.”

“Nonsense, I injured you, so I’m the person who has to see if you’re doing alright,” my tail swayed. I — didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You hurt me plenty,” he smiled “I fractured both my ribs while fighting you. I have about 6 weeks before I recover. You did well, Mekiko.”

“No, you should feel angry. I’m the one who did this to you!”

“I’m tired of feeling angry… So tired,” he shook his head. “I let my preconceptions get in the way. No words can ever apologize for how I treated you. I judged you based on your appearance, and in turn acted like a bumbling fat fool.”

“I never said anything about you being a fool.”

“Mekiko, I’m not going to mince words. I am morbidly obese. You’re probably thinking how this fat middle aged man could possibly pass the bar minimum to become a guard.”

Of course I think about it, I never had the guts to ask out loud.

“Do you want to see something?” Grubbs asked.

“Sure,” I responded.

He took a black-and-white photograph from his breast pocket and offered it to me. The photo was well worn with creases. Water damage was on the frame.

someone was crying over the pictures.

The photograph showed a normal family captured in time. A wife, a husband, and a daughter who couldn’t be older than 7. All 3 were grinning. I squinted and noticed that the man in the picture is Grubbs. He looked so young and skinny.

“What is this?” I tentatively asked.

“It’s a picture of my family,” Grubbs said.

Grubbs’ family huh? “You have a beautiful wife and daughter,” I returned the picture.

“They were declared missing 13 days after taking the photograph,” he stated

That was… horrible of me. I opened up a wound. There was nothing I could say that was appropriate.

“...I’m sorry,” I lowered my head.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Mekiko. You’re a good person. You would never lay a hand on them. It’s not your fault.”

Grubbs stood up from his bed. He clutched his ribs. He groaned in pain, yet he straightened his back from determination.

He continued, “Believe it or not, I was once a factory worker. My employers had to let me off. I was so resentful, indigent for justice that I lost myself in the grief somewhere. I ate myself until there was nothing left. Allowed myself to grow to this, obese,” He gestured at his body. “They say anima is gained through training or intense emotions, I gained mine from sorrow.”

“A broken man picks up the courage to dream.” I whispered. “He defied to look up into the stars, which brought him so low,” “Dare to fantasize when there’s a void, because it’s noble to fight for what you believe in.”

“You’re a good friend, Mekiko.” he said. “Better than what I deserve…” He looked down, “Thank you for believing in me. You taught me what true respect means. It definitely had damn all to do with saluting or using honorifics. I looked back at myself stuttering in front of you and it all seemed — I don’t know.

“I also let my own biases get in the way, Grubbs,” I said. “I should have never thought of you as a silly fool. If only I haven’t been so ignorant

“Mekiko, listen, I told you all this for a reason. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Pride comes from other people. When for yourself, there’s no virtue. You have people that love you. I hate to see you throw that all away. Find what matters to you.”

We hung out for a bit while saying little. I was content to spend the time with Grubbs, my friend.