Location: Dimly Lit Italian Restaurant

Time: 5:40 PM, 1/26/2108

There are quite a few reasons why I don’t like going out to eat at restaurants. First off, eating out costs money. Most of you might take that for granted, but until Karen started giving me an allowance I’d never had any. Sure, there were people in the slums who traded things for money. I always made sure to stay away from anyone like that though. If they had an interest in money it meant they probably had a way to spend it back in the city. Or at least they knew someone who did. And anyone in that position would have gladly sold me out.

The second reason is that there are too many people. The stigma on my face is just too visible. First the waiter will notice, then the other customers will join in, and by the time I’m ready to order the restaurant will be practically frozen. Everyone just stares at me, waiting for disaster to strike.

Playing off of that, the third reason is that you’re stuck there. I can’t just leave whenever I notice people start pointing or whispering. Getting up and leaving before my food arrives would just make me look even more suspicious.

There are plenty of other reasons to dislike eating out, but let me end things by following the rule of threes.

And despite my complaints, it’s not like I’ve never eaten at a restaurant. I’ve done it eight times.

I was actually trying to brag there, but now that I think about it, only going out to eat eight times by my age is actually kind of impressive in a much weirder way than I was intending.

Even worse, it was Karen that forced me out all eight times.

So then what was I doing, sitting there on my ninth restaurant visit?

I was suffering. Suffering the fate of the defeated.

I didn’t like it, but I made a deal with Sara. In exchange for her help dealing with Hatta, (help we didn’t end up needing by the way) I agreed to go out one time with her. The prospect of spending any more time around Sara was difficult to swallow, but breaking a promise with her probably wasn’t a good idea.

So one day after classes ended I decided to just get it over with. I looked around the city, trying to find the cheapest, darkest, least crowded restaurant possible. I eventually settled on an Italian restaurant that was so worn down I couldn’t read the name of it from the signpost outside.

It was the kind of place that let the owner count the number of customers on one hand.

That’s what made her so noticeable. On the other side of the otherwise empty restaurant sat a lone girl, hiding her face behind a menu. Although with her iconic black and white outfit, along with that day's selection of mouse themed socks, still in clear view, it made hiding her face an exercise in futility.

Hana had been following me all afternoon. At first, Allison had been with her, but after exchanging a few awkward glances she disappeared. I’m sure it was just Hana dragging her along in the first place.

I really wanted to go over there and get Hana to leave before Sara showed up, but things like that will never work out for me. Right as I stood up the door to the restaurant flew open, and Sara made a beeline for my table.

I hadn’t mentioned anything to her about being at that restaurant at that time on that day. I hadn’t even been in correspondence with her at all. Yet she managed to show up, right on time.

Sara’s augmentation is a scary one.

“Oh, it’s Sara’s wife, Emelia! A perfect time for a date. Sara was just thinking it was time for a nice baguette, so Sara came inside on a whim.”

“Yeah, that’s French. This is an Italian restaurant.”

“No, Sara’s not in the mood for potatoes.”

Sara naturally sat down in the seat beside me. Missing my opportunity to try and explain the situation to a visibly shaken Hana, I slowly sat down as well.

What was she going to do? Sara hadn’t noticed Hana, but there was no way Hana didn’t recognize Sara. Was she going to call the authorities, or would she try to deal with Sara on her own?

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

And wait a minute. If this became a big deal, wouldn’t I end up looking really bad? Initially, I wasn’t really worried about meeting with Sara once or twice. She didn’t seem interested in doing anything to me anymore, and it’s not like I owed this city anything. I couldn’t care less about what illegal activities Sara and her group of criminals got up to if it didn’t involve me.

But that was short sighted. I forgot that I’d already been involuntarily pushed on the path of rejoining a society that didn’t want me. I should have been thinking about the reactions everyone else would have.

‘Villain girl meets with a known terrorist over dinner.’ The headlines practically write themselves. Any slim chance I had to rejoin society would be crushed in an instant. Even with Karen’s support I had already been sentenced by the court of public opinion. The last thing I needed was to be involved with anyone who had tangible crimes attached to them.

So then what, I should just abandon Sara? Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s possible. It’s not like I invited her out anyway. Until I make good on my word she’ll probably just keep showing up every time I leave the school campus.

“Sara wonders how this bakery’s taiyaki is. Sara’s all out.”

“This isn’t a bakery, and again, it’s Italian.”

While I was being trapped between a rock and an even harder rock, Sara kept talking about random nonsense.

And what was Hana doing? It seemed like she was still just watching.

“Come out, bring the foods now!”

Prompted by Sara’s yelling, the only employee I’d seen at the restaurant came out of the kitchen. He was an older man whose scowling clearly defined the wrinkles that covered his face. He held a cannoli in one hand and a plate in the other. Despite having his first customers of the evening he must have been in the back eating.

“Yeah, yeah, what do you-”

Before he could finish his questions he paused, clutching his chest.

“Eh. . .”

A raspy scream forced its way out as he fell to his knees. As his body fell forward toward the ground Sara reached out her hand, gracefully catching his plate and placing it down in front of herself.

“Let’s eat!”

Ignoring the man that just collapsed in front of us, Sara started eating the remaining cannolis on his plate.

“Hey, ah, Sara, is he dead?”

I’m not a person with enough free time to worry about anyone else, but I’d rather not be an accessory to pastry fueled murder. Because, you know, that wouldn’t really help the already precarious position I was in.

I knew Hana wasn’t a cop or anything, but still, she was watching everything.

“The scary lightning guy? Nope. Sara doesn’t like it, but the big sparky one is still alive.”

“What? No. I’m talking about the guy who just had a heart attack in front of us. The restaurant employee.”

“Restaurant?”

“I don’t understand how you’re confused by any of this, but why that part in particular? The guy who brought those cannolis out.”

Sara pulled the plate close to her body and wrapped her arms around it, leaning forward in order to shield the cannolis with her body.

“No strange man is stealing Sara’s cannolis. Sara will make sure he dies before laying a hand on them. Don’t worry, Sara will let you have one though.”

Well, yeah. At that point he was definitely dead. Sorry cannoli guy. First she got you killed, then she arbitrarily labeled you as a thief.

I didn’t have the energy to keep trying to explain things to her, so I decided to leave things at that. I can only play the straight man for so long. I’m not a social person by nature.

“No, that’s fine, I’m not hungry.”

“Perfect. Sara wanted to eat all of these, so of course you’re not.”

Sara proceeded to eat the rest of the cannolis without saying another word. At multiple points I’m almost certain she forgot I was even there.

Once she finished she threw the plate at the wall and stood up.

“Good. Time to leave. Sara has other things to do. Not sure what they are though.”

She was staring at me. Was she expecting me to leave with her?

“Well, um, alright then.” I had to handle this correctly. One wrong move and I could have ended up on the floor next to the cannoli guy. “This was our date then. Now we’re even.”

“Is that how it works? Sara didn’t know. Even. So it’s time to get married then?”

“That’s not happening!”

It got worse! I didn’t know she was taking that name she had for me so literally. I agreed to see her once. My heart couldn’t handle seeing her ever again.

And in the heat of the moment I accidentally let my true feelings out. Was my rejection going to send Sara down a weird path?

“Okay, That’s fine.”

Huh? Why was she being so reasonable all of the sudden?

“No point in Sara thinking about things like that. Sara wants you to be her wife, so it will happen eventually no matter what.”

She wasn’t being reasonable at all! It’s just that her delusions reached a level far beyond what I was capable of predicting.

“Sara’s leaving now. Sara enjoyed the tastes of Sicily. Italian food has its time to shine.”

Sara left only a few minutes after showing up.

And at least get the country wrong again! She stole the punch line for this chapter. What happened to the rule of threes?

I shouldn’t have been expecting something to go that well in the first place. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my monochrome observer was making her way toward me. Of course she was. I was really hoping she’d just pretend none of this ever happened, but there’s no way I’d ever get a win like that. Even during the callback, I’m a person that can’t escape defeat.