Crap, I let my guard down! was my first thought. Because no one here seemed the type to pull petty pranks, I'd stopped being so wary every time I'd opened and stepped through a doorway.

I raised my arms and felt the thing latched to my face. It was fluffy and warm. I pulled it off and stared at the thing in my hands.

A stuffed animal? Why would someone throw a stuffed animal at me?

Fun fact: Animals really don't like me.

It's not like they'll go out of their way to cause me physical harm, but they will absolutely refuse to let me pet them or show any signs of affection. Even my best friend's dog, a big friendly border collie who is more than happy to bathe my other friends in drool, bolts to the other side of the yard when I secretly try to pet her. It makes me want to cry, seriously.

So you'll have to excuse me for taking more than a minute to realise that the thing that had just squirmed its way out of my hands and was happily making its way up my arm was not, in fact, some kind of scarily advanced stuffed toy, and was actually a living creature.

Someone shoved me aside in their hurry to leave the shop, and I caught a glimpse of the silver flute strapped to the hooded figure's belt before their cloak flapped down again. They quickly melted into the crowd of people going about their lives.

"Hey, you, don't just leave your-!" Arsral, upon reaching the doorway, saw that the person was nowhere to be seen and clicked his tongue with an unpleasant expression on his face. "Tsk."

"What happened?" Arswen asked. Arsr al finally noticed us.

"Oh, Arswen, Joan. Welcome back." He sighed, running a hand down his face. "That guy was trying to get us to buy his pet."

"I thought we didn't buy living things?" I said, trying futilely to stop the fluffball from climbing onto my head.

"We don't," he confirmed. "When I told him that, though, he tried getting us to take it anyway. He was annoyingly persistent. Then you guys came in, and you know the rest."

"It jumped onto my face," I said.

"It jumped onto your face," Arswen agreed. He reached his hand out to pet it. I bent down to make it easier for him.

"That means it likes me, right?"

"Well, it didn't start mauling your face off, so I'd say so."

"Huh."

"What's with that-" He squinted at me. "Why do you look like you're about to cry."

"I'm not crying."

"You look like you want to."

"I won't deny that."

I plucked it off my head and began squeezing the ball of fluff. It made several tiny squeaks, and its long ears(?) waved cutely in the air. I could feel my heart melting at its big, round, golden eyes.

"...So why do you look like you want to cry?" Arswen asked again.

I whispered, "It's so fluffy."

"...What?"

I buried my face in the fluff and began yelling softly.

"It's so fluffy."

So soft! So silky! Is this what heaven feels like?! All soft, silky fur and comforting warmth? Finally, I can experience what has been denied to me for far too long!

Its ears wrapped around my head comfortingly and I felt even more like crying.

"...Right." I could almost hear Arsral rolling his eyes as he shut the door and walked back to his wheelchair. "Since you like it so much, you can take care of it then."

"Seriously?!" I looked up with what was probably the goofiest smile I had ever made on my face. "Hell yea-!"

"Arsral!"

The door flew open and smacked me in the face.

I fell back and to the side from the crouch I'd been in with a yell of shock. My hands instinctively flew up to my nose. My eyes squeezed shut. I heard someone yell what sounded like 'Heweys behback!' before the pain slammed down half a second later.

I hissed in pain. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

The black fluffball squeaked as it brushed against my hands tightly cupping my nose. I grit my teeth. One moment I was on cloud nine, and the next I was struggling to not lose my temper with the asshole who had thrown the door open with no consideration for anybody in the way. Of fucking course.

I gave myself a moment. Eventually the pain faded and I felt a lot less like returning the favour tenfold for my - it hurt like a motherfucker but probably wasn't broken - nose. Now that my focus wasn't solely on the pain in my nose, I realised my forehead was also smarting.

I tuned back into my surroundings. A boy with hair the colour of cow puke - I wasn't feeling very charitable with my descriptors, for obvious reasons - was frantically waving his arms as he stuttered his way through a panicked conversation with my employer. Arsral looked grim as he listened, and Arswen had a scowl on his face, but the anxiety beneath it was clear.

"So..." I began, still cupping my nose with a hand, "Is everyone just going to ignore the fact that he," I waved my other hand in the direction of the newcomer "just almost broke my nose?"

Cow Puke Head cowered under my glare and immediately began apologizing like a broken record hyped up on caffeine.

"There's more pressing matters than your broken nose, Joan," Arsral said.

"What could possibly be more important than the harm I have just received at the hands of this green haired fiend!" I cried, hand outstretched and pointing accusingly at the 'fiend'. Cow Puke Head renewed his 'I'msosorrypleaseforgiveme's and looked like he was about to throw himself at my feet. "Also, almost broken. He almost broke my nose."

"Then it's even less important."

While I gaped at him, Arsral started pacing around the area while gnawing on his thumbnail and muttering to himself. I sensed the time for petty dramatics was over - unfortunate, since I'd wanted to kick up another fuss about being unloved and unappreciated and whatnot - and the time to obtain an explanation for the sudden tension in the room was here.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

I had a feeling any explanation from - I peeked at his status for his name (what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, also this guy hit me in the face with a door) - Icoupewk - I snorted - would involve an overabundance of stammering, so he was out.

"What's going on?" I asked Arswen, who hadn't stopped scowling.

"Hewey's back," he said.

"And this is bad because...?"

He gave me the full story. So apparently this fuckboy called Hewey had come into Cleimeph one day, taken one look at Arsral and been all like 'You're mine now'. If it had been anyone else, this would not have been such a problem. Arsral could have just reported it, and the town guards would have taken care of it. Unfortunately, Hewey was the much doted on son of the lord whose land the town was on, and the guards were employed by the lord, so it was a very, very big problem. It became an even bigger problem when, just two weeks before I was summoned, Hewey gave Arsral an ultimatum: become his or they could say goodbye to the shop. They had only had until he came back from his dungeon dive to make the decision.

"What an," I paused, eyeing the ten-year-old, then decided screw it, "absolute shitstain."

Arswen nodded fervently. "I know right?"

"But uh, this Hewey person knows Arsral is male, yeah? Same sex relationships aren't frowned upon here?"

Arswen shrugged. "It's not uncommon for nobility to take people of the same gender as lovers. They don't usually get married though. Also, he said since Ral was prettier than every other girl in Etir it didn't matter."

"Well, I can see where- I mean, what a bastard!" I hastily corrected myself at Arswen's glare. "Forcing someone to become his, that's just not cool! And as a side hoe to boot! Not cool, dude."

I paused, realising something. "Oi, is this part of what drove you to do something as stupid as summoning a demon?"

"It was a good idea at the time," Arswen mumbled. "Yes."

I sighed. Arswen scowled. Icoupewk had tucked himself into the space between the wheelchair and the shop counter. Arsral was still pacing agitatedly and gnawing on his thumbnail. I watched him and nudged Arswen.

"Uh, should your brother be walking around that mu- whoa!"

I darted forward to catch the boy as he stumbled. I carefully set him back into his wheelchair and ignored the way Icoupewk squeaked in fear at my proximity.

"Oi, you shouldn't be exerting yourself like this, with your con-"

"Condition, shmondition!" Arsral snapped. "I'm not yet an invalid, thank you very much and you'd do well to remember that!"

I raised my hands and backed away. "Sorry."

He took a deep, calming breath, then let it out. 

"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I know you were only trying to help." That was probably the closest to an apology I was ever going to get from someone as prideful as Arsral.

"It's fine, it's fine. You're under a lot of stress. You have shorter fuse than usual. I get it. Now, this 'Hewey' only returned this morning, right?" I walked over to the door to close it, then took a step back, wondering how I had never noticed the calendar pinned to the back of it. It was the 10th of the 6th, a little over a month since I had been brought into this world. Speaking of being brought into this world, I wondered when my birthday was. I wondered when the brothers' birthdays were. Did they even celebrate birthdays? I'd have to ask them later. "So that should give us some time to figure out how to handle this before-"

For the second time that day, the door was flung open with me in the way. For the second time that day, a heavy piece of wood bestowed upon me its violent kiss. For the second time that day, I struggled to not lose it at the inconsiderate fucker who thought kicking open doors was a fucking fantastic idea.

What was it, oh-hey-let's-all-hit-Joan-in-the-face-with-a-door-yeah-that's-a-fucking-great-idea day?! Oh, yeah, sure, just let me mark that on my calendar so next year I know exactly when the best fucking time to become a serial killer is.

Chill. I am chill. I am cool. I am calm. I will not lose my temper. Chill. I am chill. I am cool. I am calm...

I chanted the mantra in my head as I slowly came back to the real world.

While I was beside myself with pain, some silver-haired bastard with the smarmiest grin I had ever seen and would probably ever see had swaggered into the shop, flanked by two bald and buff lackeys with similar faces.

Smarmy Grin spread his arms out, looking delighted despite (or maybe because of) Arsral's scowl.

"Rally, darling!" he cooed. Both Arsral and Arswen twitched, and Icoupewk scurried behind the counter. "How's my favourite cold beauty doing today?"

"To be honest, I was doing a lot better before I heard you were back in town," the 'cold beauty' said. You had to admire the way he kept his tone even and polite.

"Aw, is that any way to treat the person who'll be taking care of you from now on?"

> Name: Heouie of House Gastothes

> Level: 42

> Age: 17

> Race: Human  [Details]

> Afflictions: None   [Details]

> Occupation: C-rank Adventurer

>

> HP: 652/652

> MP: 439/439

>

> [Attributes & Titles]

> [Background]

> [Skills]

So this was 'Hewey'.

...The actual spelling of his name was dumb as hell. 'Heouie'. Pfft.

"I can take care of myself, thank you."

"Oh, but I can take care of you so much better."

Wow, where was this guy getting his lines? Straight outta some shitty romance novel? He wasn't even reading the right lines if he wanted Heouie/Arsral to be endgame. Actually, forget endgame, if this were a novel he wouldn't even be around to witness the end of the story.

I would have loved to say Hewey was butt ugly, but no, he was actually quite good looking. Hm. If this were a novel, maybe he would still be around to witness the ending.

Hewey reached out to touch a lock of Arsral's long hair, but the red-head simply rolled back on his wheelchair with a frosty (geddit? 'cuz 'cold beauty', 'frosty' ...sorry) expression.

Arswen stood protectively in front of his brother, scowling his fiercest scowl, which was actually kind of cute. Hewey must have thought so too, because he just went 'Aww' and tried to pat Arswen's head. Arwen batted his hand away with a particularly pissed-off glare.

"You're cute," Hewey told him instead. "But I'm not a danger to your brother. I just want to help."

"And 'helping' means threatening to close down our shop unless he gives himself over to you?" Arswen snarled. "I don't think so."

"Oh, that. Don't think of that as a threat, think of it more as, ah, incentive."

Oh my god. If I were any less oblivious to the tension in the room, I would have burst out laughing. So cliche, man.

"Because I am a generous man, I gave you quite some time to choose. So what'll it be, sweetheart?" Hewey tilted his head to the side and smiled. "Well, I already know your answer, but I would like to hear it from your own, luscious pink lips."

I would have snorted if my nose didn't hurt so much.

Before Arsral could either give in or tell Hewey to go fuck himself, which was much more likely, I decided an interruption was in order.

I cleared my throat. "Ahem. Hi, yes, I'm here as well,"

I raised a hand and waved when everyone turned to me.

"Now, not that I'm not enjoying all the drama and tension and whatnot that's going on here," I gestured into the air, "But really, all this is-"

"Who are you?" Hewey cut me off.

"Oh! I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Joan, newest, and uh, only, I guess, employee of Cleimeph. I'd say the meeting is appreciated but, well," I shrugged, "I'd be lying."

"Uh huh, sure, whatever." Hewey dismissed me and turned back to the brothers.

"Ah ah ah! I'm not done yet!"

Hewey heaved a much put-upon sigh and rolled his eyes as he turned to face me again.

"Yes, Joan, what do you want. Make it quick," he ordered.

"Alright, I'll tell you what I want. I want," feeling my temper flare, I took a calming breath, "an apology. When you three opened the door, you opened it right into my face. At the very least, I want an apology for that. It seriously hurt, and still does, you know."

Hewey stared at me. As did everyone else.

Finally, he said, "Are you serious?"

I was tempted to say 'No, I'm Joan'. "Oh, I assure you, I'm being very-"

"What makes you think that someone like me would ever apologise to the likes of you?" He completely steamrolled over my words and kept going. "I mean, really, are you alright in the head?"

Normally, I don't respond to insults. It's a waste of time, and laughing it off either frustrates or perplexes the person who's insulting you, both of which are great outcomes.

Chill. I am chill.

"I mean, I'm the son of the lord of this entire area, and you're just... you. In fact, the only merit you have is that you work for Arsral, who is important because I'm interested in him. Also because his beauty is unparalleled, of course."

I am cool. I am calm. I will not lose my temper. 

"Honestly, maybe the fact that you're brave enough to demand an apology from me should be a merit in and of itself. Or maybe that's just sheer idiocy."

Chill. I am chill.

"Either way, I congratulate you on setting a world record for most foolish person alive."

I am cool. I am calm. I will-

Seeming to forget that he was one who caused in the first place, he finished with, "Anyway, I can't believe you even tried with that face of yours. Can't you do something about that unpleasant green and purple colour?"

I WILL ABSOLUTELY LOSE MY FUCKING TEMPER.