To my surprise, things played out well.

I had expected him to be egotistical or overly cautious around strangers, but he was relatively friendly.

“And that is… a toy store, got some cool stuff, remote control dolls and so on.”

He was being friendly because he thought I was a lost kid.

“Oh, I don’t really like dolls.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I prefer fake swords, for play sword fighting.”

I didn’t know much about him—barely knew his interests. But he was probably around fifteen years old, so there was a high chance he liked action, swords.

Was that a stereotype? Yeah. But I didn’t care. There was a damn high chance it was accurate.

“But why? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“What’s a little scratch or two? You scared of swords?”

“Fake ones? I’m not scared, I just don’t like sword play.”

“You messed with real ones?”

“Yeah…?”

“You plan to become an adventurer?”

He stopped walking and asked, “Where are you from? It’s nowhere close.”

“What made you assume that?”

“You said something weird, and you talk like you’re stringing all your words together. I have to think for three seconds to understand what you’re saying.”

And you talk like a fucking old man with dementia, taking forever to say a single word.

For a second, I considered backing out, but if I was right about him having influence, most people would back down to show respect. So I needed to stand out.

“I’m from a far village, that’s why I talk fast, like I’m not here to bore someone by taking ten minutes to finish a sentence.”

His eyebrows furrowed, went back to normal, and then furrowed again. “You’re talking about me?”

“Yeah, but not in a rude way. Just being honest, choosing what’s best.”

“Oh… You think your accent is better?”

“By a lot.”

He smiled. “You are something else. Who put that idea in your head?”

“You think the way you Sundawn guys talk is better?”

“I mean, it’s not a matter of better or worse—”

“Be honest, dude.”

“Obviously. Anyone with half a brain would think so.”

“You’re nicer than I thought. I thought you’d say it’s cavemen talk, or like a child’s gibberish.”

He chuckled. “I held my tongue back. How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“Oh.”

“What? You’re acting like I said I was a zombie.”

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“My reaction wasn’t anything like that.”

“Close enough.”

“Younger than I thought, that’s all. You sure your mom is okay with you just walking around?”

“You going to kidnap me?”

“How much would you even sell for? Four bronzes?”

“That’s three more than you would go for.”

“My ass.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“What?”

“You said ‘your ass.’”

It took him a couple of seconds to realize my implication.

He chuckled like he was embarrassed. “Oh… You got some jokes.”

“I’m talented.”

“You should monetize it.”

“Definitely. Get rich that way.”

“Rich… I don’t think you’re that funny.”

“How would you know? I’ve only made a joke or two with you.”

“Because there aren’t many rich comedians.”

“I’ll just be one of the few.”

He smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Vernisha Holinstone. You?”

“Ferzan Starworth. How long do you plan to stay here for?”

Starworth. Big, big shots.

“Until my family recovers. Medical reasons.”

“Oh. Cancer?”

“Christ, why’d you jump to that?”

“No idea.”

“It’s probably worse. Just something shitty they ate.”

“Oh. How’s that worse than cancer?”

“Hm… It’s complicated. But hopefully things will get better.”

POV: Lo’jul

I entered the adventurer's guild, climbed the stairs, filed my report on what had occurred that day, and once finished, changed into a simple outfit and left.

Now… Lu’mat.

I didn’t bother checking the restaurant I had planned for our dinner; there was no way she would still be there.

But...

I did check. Outside, sitting on a bench near the flowers, was her. She was playing some dice game on her tablet, her face showing she was bored out of her mind.

I sat next to her. She didn’t turn to me or say anything.

I said, “Sorry.”

“How was the quest?” she asked, still flicking her finger lazily across the screen.

“Lots of… um, deaths. Most of the village got wiped out.”

That caught her attention. She stopped flicking her finger against the screen, turned it off, and looked at me. “You… how are you feeling?”

“Disappointed. It’s one thing if it’s a lot of death, but, Lu, there are only seventeen survivors.”

“Damn… Sorry to hear that. I’m sure you did your best.”

“Yeah. But seriously, sorry for not being able to make it. I really wanted to. And then I didn’t have my communicator on me.”

“I understand. You were out here fighting monsters, doing your mission.”

“Yeah, but I would’ve rather been here, smiling with you.”

“You’re here now.”

“I’m complaining, not smiling.”

She stood up. “Let’s change that.”

I stood up too, towering over her. “What do you want to do?”

“Read my mind.”

“I wish I could.”

“Let’s make this night great. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“You mean… like.”

“No, I mean something that goes on for long.”

I looked up at the stars. “Want to… walk home?”

“You want to kill my legs? I’m fit, but not that fit.”

“Let’s just try it. We used to always do it. Walking in the darkness, under the moonlight, talking and talking.”

She smiled at me, but there was a proud look in her eyes. Like any doubt she had in me was gone. “Sure, I’d love that. And carry me if my legs give out.”

And so we walked along the sidewalk home. We, of course, passed by an ice cream mini-store.

“Haven’t seen a damn Pink-terra flavor in a while,” she mentioned.

“Thought they stopped making it,” I said. “I want to taste it.”

“You hate it.”

“I probably like it now.”

“I doubt it.”

We went inside, and I got a Pink-terra ice cream in a cone. She took chocolate. Even the server had to remind her twice that it was chocolate and she was a punchio.

As we walked, I asked, “Feeling suicidal today?”

“Yeah, why not? ‘Death tastes like tits covered in honey.’”

“Don’t you forget anything?”

I had said that a couple of times when I was hospitalized from a monster battle. Sounded cool and edgy in my mind as a young adult.

What? I have brain damage, broken ribs, and half of my leg is gone? Pft. Should’ve seen me when my girl tried to put her finger up my ass.

“No.”

“On a serious note, you’re really gonna eat it?”

“I’ll just vomit it when I’m done. It just tastes too good.”

“No food is worth playing with your life for.”

“You’re just a pussy.”

“No food except that.”

She laughed. It was an ugly laugh, but I found it charming. I always did.

An hour passed. For half of that time, we talked, laughed, and so on. The other half was just silence, walking side by side.

Of course, she vomited the ice cream and took some pills.

We reached our home, small but perfect for us. She opened the door with the key, and we entered. I reached for the lights, but she took my hand.

“Let’s keep it off,” she said.

“Oh. Here?”

“Why not?”

She pulled me onto her, and I felt her breast against my chest as we kissed. We slowly backed up, our memory of the couch in our minds.

My shirt came off, and so did hers.

I felt the couch and we got onto it. Then she stopped kissing me, but I felt her breath on my face. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” I said, kissing her again. My hands slid up her back until I reached her bra, unpinned it, and heard the small sound of it hitting the ground.

Oh.

“Wait, wait,” I said. “I kinda need geio for this kid who was feasting on monster flesh.”

“We’ll worry about that afterward.” Her hands caressed my stomach, slowly making their way down.

“Yeah, I’m sure she can wait.” I became one with her, like salt and water, dissolving until it was only water.