The first light of dawn crept in through the grimy window, it fell across Sen's face, stirring him from his fitful slumber. He blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, before the events of the previous day came rushing back.

Glancing over at the bed, he saw Taro still sprawled there, snoring loudly and oblivious to the world. Sen rose silently, stretching the stiffness from his muscles.

He strode over to the window, peering out at the bustling city street below. People hurried to and fro, going about their morning business. Merchants set up shop, hawking their wares. Beggars and urchins scrounged for scraps.

Sen watched them impassively, planning his goals for the day.

Leaving Taro to his drunken slumber, Sen descended the creaky stairs to the ground floor of the tavern. He made his way to the back, spying a small courtyard with a pump and washbasin. A few servants were already about, scrubbing floors and hauling water.

Sen approached the washbasin and splashed water over his face, rubbing away the lingering fatigue of restless sleep. As he reached for a scrap of cloth to dry his skin, a feminine voice startled him from behind.

"If you want that towel, you oughta put something in its place!"

Turning around sharply, he saw a young girl of perhaps 15 years.

Startled by the girl's sudden appearance, Sen blinked and cocked an eyebrow quizzically at her abrupt comment. He looked her up and down, noting her youthful attire - a simple, modest kimono and a pair of straw sandals.

"I beg your pardon?" he replied curtly, not entirely comprehending her meaning.

The girl rolled her amber eyes and thrust a threadbare towel towards him, clearly exasperated by his confusion.

"I meant, you need to pay for it if you want to use the linens, silly!" she explained impatiently. "Not everything comes free, even for strays wandering in off the streets!"

Her tone held no malice, but spoke plainly of the realities faced by those living hand-to-mouth in the city.

"Right right."

Still half-asleep and irritated by the interruption, Sen’s irritation flared, though he fumbled into his pouch. Producing a gleaming gold coin, he flipped it toward her with deliberate carelessness. “Here. This should cover your precious fabric and then some.”

The girl caught the coin with practiced ease, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. She counted out 9 silvers along with 5 copper coins and handed them back, her slender fingers brushing his palm briefly.

"There,” she said with mock courtesy. “Change for your royal generosity.”

Sen's hand closed around the silver coins, his fingers curling reflexively from the brief contact. He shoved them carelessly into his pocket without glancing at the amount, still annoyed.

"There, I hope that's sufficient payment for the... luxury,"he remarked sarcastically, eyeing the thin towel. His gaze flicked back to the girl, studying her youthful features and noticing a slight discrepancy.

"W-what are you looking at?"

Noticing Sen eyeing her, a faint blush creeped up her cheeks.

Snapped from his contemplative staring by the girl's pert remark, Sen narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Nothing much. Just thinking you don't look like the typical tavern brat," he replied gruffly.

He glanced around, ensuring they were still alone in the courtyard before continuing in a low voice."You're too clean, too well-spoken. Don't fit in with the usual riffraff."

His gaze sharpened as he studied her face, looking for any signs of deceit.

The girl blushed deeper at Sen's scrutinizing gaze and personal observation, turning her face away. But she met his eyes defiantly, a hint of fire in her amber irises.

"What concern is it of yours? Are you some kind of detective now?"she retorted, hands on her hips.

"You're not from around here either, are you? Your clothes look worn and foreign. So we're both outsiders in our own ways."

Sen observed the girl intently, his piercing yellow eyes narrowing slightly as he listened to her quick-witted response. There was more to this young maiden than met the eye, that much was clear.

"You're a clever one, aren't you?"he mused aloud, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth."I suppose you're right. I'm not exactly a local."

He paused briefly before continuing in a lower tone."Tell me... what's a bright girl like you doing working in a dive like this? Seems like you'd be better suited elsewhere."

"As if I have a choice," she scoffed bitterly. "My family needs the coin. We lost everything else..."

She trailed off, a shadow passing over her delicate features before she shook herself and continued. "Besides, it beats starving on the streets or selling myself to the highest bidder."

An uncomfortable pause hung heavy between Sen and the girl as the sound of footsteps and chatter began to emanate from the tavern's dining room, signaling the arrival of patrons eager for their morning repast.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The atmosphere shifted as reality encroached upon their conversation. Sen glanced towards the tavern entrance, realizing he needed to move lest he draw undue attention to them both.

"We can't stand here and jaw all day,"he muttered, stepping around the girl to make for the wash basin, not unkindly.

As he pumped water over his hands, he called out casually."By the by...what do they call you 'round these parts? Besides 'brat', I mean."

The girl hesitated a heartbeat before responding softly, a trace of reluctance in her tone.

"... Mira, "she murmurs quietly, averting her gaze."Though I doubt someone like you cares about knowing such things."

She stepped aside as other maids filed out carrying trays piled high.

Ignoring the curious glances and murmurs of the other maids, Sen turned to face Mira, toweling off his hands methodically.

"Mira," he repeated her name slowly, committing it to memory. "Sounds fancy. Guess you're full of surprises, huh."

He tucked the towel away carelessly, his piercing gaze assessing her anew. "So, little lady, now that we've exchanged names, what say you tell me about that loudmouth I dragged up the stairs last night? Think he'll sleep the day away or will the drink wear off soon enough?"

Mira's brows furrowed in thought before answering reluctantly,

"Taro-san can sleep through anything most times, but with all that sake in his belly, I reckon he won't wake till sunset, if he's lucky," she estimated frankly.

Shrugging lightly, she added, "Why do you ask anyway? Are you in trouble or something?"

Sen clenched his jaw at the girl's perceptive guess, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face.

"No need to worry your pretty head about my troubles," he said gruffly." Just curious to get a handle on the blasted fool's capacity after seeing him pass out like a corpse last night."

Turning away abruptly, he paced towards the tavern doorway and peered inside at the beginnings of the breakfast rush.

Mira watched as Sen strode toward the door, his tall frame cutting an imposing silhouette against the warm glow from within the tavern. She studied him thoughtfully, wondering at the secret burdens a stranger like him might be bearing.

Suddenly, inspiration struck the girl. Her eyes brightened, and she skipped after the mercenary, catching up to him just shy of the threshold.

"If you're that worried, why don't you come back later, after my shift ends? I can check on Taro-san then."

There was a mischievous glint in Mira's eye as she made her suggestion, a hint that perhaps this mysterious outsider intrigued her more than she was letting on.

"And I promise I won't take any money for it," she added with a playful smile.

Sen paused at the threshold, glancing down at Mira with a raised brow.

"Uh, sure thanks." He replied, eyes widening for a moment, momentarily caught off guard by Mira's unexpected offer and the playful smile accompanying it. Such altruism from a near-stranger, especially a young girl living hand-to-mouth in a place like this, gave him pause. He wasn't accustomed to such straightforward sincerity.

Mira blinked, surprised but pleased at the mercenary's unexpected thanks. A light blush dusted her cheeks.

"I-if you need anything else, just look for me. I know these back alleys and hidden paths in town," Mira volunteered enthusiastically before scampering away towards her duties at the crowded dining tables.

Sen watched Mira go, watching the sunlight dance off her auburn hair as she flitted away to attend to the hungry crowd gathered for their morning meal. A wry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Straightforwardness and generosity from a stranger - it was almost laughable in his line of work.

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Stepping inside, the aroma of breakfast foods and chatter enveloped him. Servers rushed to and fro, balancing trays heaped with steaming rice, pickled vegetables, and savory broths. Patrons filled the booths and tables, their voices rising in a din of conversation.

Unsure where to start, Sen ambled into the fray, scanning the busy room for any semblance of order amidst the morning commotion. As he wove between crowded tables and dodged serving girls hurrying past with laden trays, he caught snippets of lively conversations:

"How's business in the east quarter been faring in recent days..."

"Aye, and my eldest took ill, I'm fair worried sick for him, I am!"

The news and worries of common folk, so foreign and yet strangely familiar.

A space opened up by the hearth and he settled himself on the wooden bench, stretching out his legs idly as a frazzled serving girl skidded to a stop before him.

"Can I gets you something, mister?"

"Meat Stew," he ordered, taking a seat.

The serving girl, flushed and breathless from her haste, jotted down Sen's order on a small slip of parchment. With an absent nod, she hustled away towards the kitchen to convey his request, weaving nimbly through the crush of the morning crowd.

Sen settled himself back on the bench, his elbows propped up on the table as he observed the comings and goings around him. A plump, jovial man in a stained apron approached and placed a bowl of fragrant meat stew before him.

"There you be sir, finest meat stew this side of the Shimmering Sea. Freshest ingredients, slow-cooked overnight in our secret recipe."

The burly chef flashed him a grin before wiping his hands on a rag and lumbering off to attend to the clamor of hungry customers.

Sen attacked the mutton stew with vigor, the warmth and rich flavor a welcome balm to his weary body. The savory meat practically fell apart in his mouth, and the robust vegetables lent a satisfying crunch.

Between mouthfuls, he couldn't help but notice the lively banter unfolding around him - the merchants swapping stories of their wares, the laborers sharing tales of hard-fought wages, the mothers fretting over the health of their broods.

It was a stark contrast to his solitary existence, where each day was a fight for survival, and loyalty was a rare commodity. Here, there was a sense of community, however fractious it may be. People looking out for each other, in their own way.

As Sen finished the last of his meal, wiping the bowl clean with the last of his bread, a familiar figure slid into the bench across from him.

Sen glanced up, startled from his thoughts by the sudden intrusion. He eyed Taro warily as the older man slumped onto the bench opposite him, still looking bleary-eyed and disheveled from their drunken escapades of the previous night.

Pushing his empty bowl away, Sen leaned back, fixing Taro with a penetrating stare. There was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes as he noted the man's haggard appearance.

"Shouldn't you be nursing your hangover in bed, old timer?"he asked bluntly."Or did you sober up enough to remember something important?"

Noticing the puzzled and disoriented look on Taro's face, combined with the realization that his own gift from the previous evening, the Echolume necklace, now hung around Sen's own neck, he understood that his companion was unable to comprehend his words.

Sighing, Sen tapped a finger against the ornate pendant resting against his chest, a reminder of their earlier exchange. Then he recalled the purpose of the magical trinket and its role in communication across language barriers.

"Right," he muttered, his free hand gestures becoming more deliberate. "Eat. Food. Breakfast. You. Want?"

He punctuated the query by pointing towards Taro's empty spot, then gesturing towards his own now vacant bowl and utensils, hoping the visual cues would penetrate the fog of his companion's alcohol-soaked mind.

Seeing the dawning comprehension on Taro's face as understanding crept in, Sen relaxed fractionally. He leaned back, allowing the harried serving girl to swoop in and whisk away his emptied trenchery, before turning to signal the burly cook over.

The jovial man lumbered over, a questioning gleam in his eye. "Ready for seconds, are ya? Mighty fine appetite for a fella yer size!"

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As the morning wore on, Taro excused himself to replace his damaged Echolume talisman. Left alone, Sen leaned back, contemplating his next move, as Taro stumbled away to procure a new Echopulme talisman from some unseen merchant, likely haggling and bartering with all the fervor of a seasoned drunkard, Sen rubbed his temples ruefully.

The clamor of the bustling tavern gradually receded from his thoughts as he pondered his current predicament, trapped in a world unknown and burdened with an inebriated fool. A wry chuckle escaped him, marveling at the irony of it all.

Waiting impatiently for Taro's return, Sen drummed his fingers on the weathered wood of the tavern table. When his drunken companion finally lumbered back, clutching a new Echopulme pendant with all the clumsy reverence of a toddler gripping a toy, Sen fixed him with a penetrating stare.

"Old man, any fighing pits around here?" he spoke concisely.

Taro scratched his grizzled chin as he processed Sen's pointed query. A sly grin slowly spread across the weather-beaten expanse of the old man's face.

"Fighin' pits? Bleedin' hell, yer a brazen one ain't ya?"Taro guffawed loudly, drawing some curious glances from nearby patrons.

"Whae, there be a few places 'round here that cater to the... shall we say, more visceral pastimes o' folk."

He leaned in, lowering his voice to an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper despite the cacophony around them.

"Down the alley yonder, ye'll find the Rusty Dagger. Nasty little pit, but decent crowds for a scuffle. Ain't for the faint of heart though,"he warned, waggling his eyebrows.

"There be another, lesser known than the Dagger. Called the Serpent's Venom."

Narrowing his eyes, Sen leaned close.

"I meant," he bit out carefully, articulating each syllable as if speaking to someone slow-witted."A place where skilled fighters... compete."

Taro blinked rapidly a few times before the light of realization dawned behind his bleary eyes. "Oho! Right, a proper fightin' den ya mean."

Seeing Sen grow impatient with the drunken delay, Taro snapped his fingers."Right then! I recall now. Ye be lookin' fer somewhere like the Crimson Clay Pit."

The grizzled man jabbed a grubby finger vaguely over his shoulder."It sits just off the main road, south of the market district, near the old quarry entrance. Nigh impossible to miss it, though..."

Taro squinted at Sen with a mix of curiosity and trepidation."Ye plannin' on fightin' then? Thought ye were just passin' through."

Sen stood abruptly, tossing a few coins on the table to cover his meal and a generous tip. He shot Taro a sideways glance, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm always planning something,"he replied cryptically."Now, let's go see if this Crimson Clay Pit lives up to its name."