Holding back my tears, I kept on walking toward the bluish, somewhat hazy gleam in the distance, thinking about what had happened. In the Underworld, it was known as the zone where most people interested in augmentations and high-tech gathered, as opposed to the area where I lived, which was filled with brothels and primarily focused on, well, paid intimate relationships. Each item's price was much higher than what you could find on the outskirts, but so was their quality.

Even when Douglass shouted at me about trust and whatnot, I simply could not convince myself to swallow it. He despises it when things go out of hand, as indicated by the way he grabbed my wrist when I approached him shortly after we met. My opinion in that regard hasn't changed in the least. There must be a cause for his outburst.

I had to confess that our parting was quite abrupt, but despite the odd way we started chatting with each other, I genuinely believed that we got along quite well. That's why I had to check. What motivated Douglass to behave in such a manner?

He isn't the sort to put his emotions on his sleeve. Even after we were taken aback by the thieves in the alley while playing our prank, he hadn't shown much of a reaction other than a slight shift in his voice and some faint displeasure.

Maybe it was something I did...? Which I also doubted. I mean, we got along great when we first met, didn't we? If it hadn't been for my job, I might have stayed with him for a bit longer. I guess I just saw no reason for him to hate me.

I could be reading too much into it, but now that I look at things with a clearer mind than before, something had changed by the time we met again in the restaurant. It was strange to watch him hang out with Lucas and Melody because he seemed to dislike socializing with others, but not even that could cause that drastic shift in his behavior.

Although my brain ached as I continued to think more and more about the subject at hand, I wouldn't be contented unless I found an answer. Still, in order to complete the picture, I needed to find his connection to those thugs (which wasn't an option right now).

So Jacob's, the store of a pompous, augmented merchant, was the only trail I had. That was the location Douglass was looking for. And, as much as it hurt to admit it, that was undoubtedly the reason he chose to play along with me. If I wanted to find out more, that was my only hint, even getting into contact with him might cause trouble later down the line...

"What are you doing around these parts, missy?" mocked a lanky, eye-augmented chief.

Just as I was about to disregard him and take another stride, I came to an abrupt halt. It wasn't necessarily because of what he said, but rather due to some alley in the distance, which was enough to giggle my memory.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

'Or maybe I should have told you about how that fucker almost killed me in some back alley and hoped you'd feel sorry for me? Is that what you're looking for, Lavender?—'

"Excuse me," I murmured, turning to face him. "Did anything—a commotion or something similar—happen around here?

Although I knew no one would bother to aid Douglass, I was certain someone had at least seen him.

"I could answer that, but I'm afraid I'll have to charge you."

"How much?" I asked, seriously.

"Wow," exclaimed the chief, fluttering his hands like some sort of butterfly. "I was only joking! I would never expect reimbursement from a Baroness'—"

"So you do know me."

"I—ahem," he coughed, knowing it was better to avoid the matter entirely. "There was definitely a bustle here. A bearded dwarf and his augmented dogs attacked someone. They didn't steal anything from him, but they gave him a good thrashing. Oh, and they chased him for a while after that—he even rammed his shoulder into me. An unpleasant guy, if you were to ask me."

Slowly, the entire picture began filling out. Just as the chief parted his lips to talk again—eager to chat more about what happened—he stopped. The reason why was due to my raised hand as I said, "That's more than enough. Thank you for telling me."

"S-sure..." came out a meek reply.

Everything was adding up now. Douglass had the misfortune of stumbling into those thugs shortly after we separated. No, the matter wasn't something as simple as brushing shoulders with someone.

Although the informant described it as a 'thrashing,' it was safe to presume they went a step beyond that. Otherwise, Douglass wouldn't have knocked that midget out cold in front of everyone, which was the complete opposite of his usual, hesitant demeanor.

"He was just scared..." I whispered as I went over the indigo hue dyeing the pavement.

The light came from a sign, flickering above the entrance of a pillar-like brothel with a sturdy foundation. If I lifted my gaze a bit higher, I'd be able to see its roof attached to one of the buildings dangling from the ceiling. Those were the places where the most influential people lived, as they provided more protection from the misery below.

I ignored everything else and took a seat on one of the many stools that surrounded the round counter in the center of the room.

"Something the matter, Lave?" asked the bartender in her husky voice. "You don't look very good."

Reflecting on everything that happened, I felt awful. All I managed to accomplish in that situation was back him into a corner by taking everything out on him. I kept blabbering on about all that rubbish stuff like an idiot because I was upset when all that Douglass needed was a shoulder to rely on.

Despite my, he still tried to explain himself to me, no, to Lucas, Melody, and me. He was drinking in the same room as the man who brutalized him. Other than dread and contempt, what else could he have felt? Worse, only did I realize all of this... It's no surprise he didn't trust me enough to open up even when he was backed into a corner. I never gave him a reason to...

"I screwed up so badly, Mia..."

Now I doubted I'd ever see him again.

As that realization hit me, I reached for the pack of cigarettes I was carrying. Just as I was about to pull out one, I clicked my tongue and shoved right back. I shook my head, stood up, and headed toward the stairs that'd lead me to my room, simply giving Mia's concerns a murmur about being exhausted.

Why do I always mess up so badly?