The Archivist of Forgotten Realms

Chapter 11

Akihabara was as loud and chaotic as ever, the neon lights of shops and arcades reflecting off the bustling crowd. Mikasa weaved her way through the throng of people, her thoughts tangled in a web of lies and stress. Beside her, Emi was still talking, but Mikasa could feel the weight of suspicion in every word.

“So, let me get this straight,” Emi said, her arms crossed as she stared Mikasa down. “You just happened to go on a week-long vacation without telling anyone? Without your phone? Without a single clue about where you went? That’s what you’re trying to sell me?”

Mikasa’s heart pounded as she tried to think of a reply that wouldn’t sound ridiculous. The truth—that she had been whisked away to another realm as the Archivist of Forgotten Realms—wasn’t an option. But Emi wasn’t buying her vague excuses either. Mikasa forced a weak smile.

“Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it was really last-minute,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I needed to clear my head. You know how stressful school’s been.”

Emi stopped walking, turning to face her fully. Her expression was sharp, her voice full of frustration. “Mikasa, if we’re really best friends, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been freaking out! I thought something happened to you. And now you’re acting like nothing’s wrong?”

Mikasa bit her lip, feeling guilt claw at her insides. “I… I’m sorry, Emi. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just… I’ve been dealing with a lot.”

“Yeah, and apparently you’ve been dealing with it all by yourself,” Emi shot back, her arms still crossed.

“You think I wouldn’t care? Do I mean that little to you?”

Mikasa felt her throat tighten. Emi had always been her closest friend, the one person she could rely on, but now she was keeping the biggest secret of her life from her. She couldn’t keep dodging the truth, but at the same time, she couldn’t just unload everything about Azura and the Grand Archive without sounding crazy.

“I-I’m really sorry,” Mikasa stammered, her voice small.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise. Can we just… take a break from the questions? I’ll buy you a drink. We can sit down, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Emi eyed her warily but seemed to relent. “Fine. But you better tell me the truth.”

Mikasa breathed a sigh of relief and quickly led them to the nearest Starbucks. Once inside, she ordered her favorite drink, an iced caramel macchiato, while Emi opted for a pumpkin spice latte. The tension between them was still thick as they found a seat by the window.

Mikasa stirred her drink nervously, feeling Emi’s gaze boring into her from across the table. It was time to come clean—or at least, come as close to the truth as she could without revealing everything.

Emi tapped her fingers on the table, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, spill. I deserve to know what’s been going on. No more dodging.”

Mikasa nodded, her heart racing as she prepared to say something—anything—that would make sense. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out. It’s… it’s complicated.”

Emi leaned in, her expression stern but expectant. “I’m listening.”

Mikasa opened her mouth, ready to speak, but before the words could leave her lips, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye—something that made her blood run cold.

Just as she was about to freak out internally, she already took a sip of her macchiato—and promptly spat it out, right into Emi’s face.

Outside the Starbucks window, in the middle of the busy street, stood Kenneth. He was in full armor—minus the helmet—holding his lance like he was patrolling a medieval battlefield. He looked completely out of place, yet totally unbothered by the strange stares he was getting from passersby.

Mikasa’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no, no…”

Emi gasped in shock, wiping the coffee off her face as she glared at Mikasa. “What the hell, Mikasa?! What’s wrong with you?!”

Mikasa jumped to her feet, her mind racing. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I, uh, I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back!”

Before Emi could protest, Mikasa bolted out of the café, her heart pounding.

What is Kenneth doing here? And how did he even get here?

Mikasa rushed outside and ran up to Kenneth, who spotted her with a wide smile as though he had just found a long-lost friend. He stood there proudly in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the odd looks from everyone around him.

“Mikasa!” Kenneth called, raising his lance slightly in greeting. “I’ve been wandering these strange streets looking for you.”

Mikasa grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side, trying to keep him out of sight. “Kenneth! What are you doing here?! You can’t just walk around in armor like this! People are going to freak out!”

Kenneth frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Why? These people are dressed strangely themselves. I saw many who looked like warriors or mages preparing for battle.”

Mikasa groaned, glancing around to make sure no one was paying too much attention. “They’re not real warriors, Kenneth. They’re cosplayers. People here dress up for fun, not to fight.”

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. “Cos… play? What nonsense is this?”

“Never mind that,” Mikasa said quickly. “You just need to blend in, okay?”

But before she could stop him, Kenneth’s attention was drawn to a group of people dressed in full fantasy costumes—knights, elves, and even a mage. His eyes lit up with interest, and before Mikasa could stop him, he strode right over to them.

“Ah, fellow knights!” Kenneth called out. “What race do you descend from? And what battle are you preparing for?”

The cosplayers, initially taken aback, quickly assumed Kenneth was just another fellow enthusiast playing along. They grinned, clearly impressed by his realistic armor and intense demeanor. One of the knights stepped forward, playing along. “We are the Knights of Evergreen, sent on a quest to slay the evil mage who has cursed our lands.”

Kenneth’s face broke into a wide grin. “Excellent! Allow me to join your conquest. Together, we shall rid your lands of this vile mage. Where is this fiend?”

Right on cue, a man dressed as a mage stepped out dramatically from behind the group, twirling a prop staff. “I am the evil mage! Tremble before my power!”

Kenneth’s eyes narrowed as he readied his lance. “I shall rid this world of your darkness, villain!”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Mikasa’s heart nearly stopped as she saw Kenneth preparing to attack. She ran forward, throwing herself between Kenneth and the cosplayers. “Kenneth, no! Don’t—”

Kenneth froze, looking down at Mikasa in confusion. “Why not? These warriors need my help to defeat this mage.”

“They’re not real knights, Kenneth!” Mikasa hissed, trying to keep her voice down. “They’re just pretending! It’s all part of their game.”

Kenneth’s expression darkened, his grip tightening on his lance. “Pretending? They mock the honor of knighthood by turning it into a game?”

The cosplayers, still thinking this was all part of the act, laughed and cheered, egging Kenneth on. “Yeah, get him!” one of them called. “Slay the evil mage!”

Kenneth’s face turned red with anger. “I will not tolerate this mockery of a noble tradition.”

He raised his lance, pointing it directly at the mage cosplayer, who suddenly realized that Kenneth’s weapon looked a little too real. The playful atmosphere turned tense as the cosplayers exchanged nervous glances.

“Uh… dude?” one of them said, stepping back. “That lance… is that… real?”

Kenneth’s eyes blazed with righteous fury. “I will not allow this insult to continue!”

Mikasa quickly grabbed his arm, dragging him away before things could get any worse. “Kenneth, stop! You’re going to get us in serious trouble!”

She managed to pull him into a nearby alley, panting with the effort. Kenneth looked at her, confused and still fuming. “What is the meaning of this, Mikasa? Why do these people mock something so sacred?”

Mikasa leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. “It’s just a game to them. They’re not trying to insult knights or anything. It’s just… for fun.”

Kenneth grunted, clearly displeased, but he didn’t argue further. “This world is strange. I do not understand its customs.”

“Well, if you’re going to stay here, you’re going to have to follow the rules,” Mikasa said firmly. “No weapons. No armor. You need to blend in.”

Kenneth sighed. “Very well. But I do not like it.”

As they stood in the alley, catching their breath after Kenneth's near catastrophe with the cosplayers, Mikasa suddenly remembered something that had been nagging at her.

"Kenneth, wait a second..." she said, narrowing her eyes. "How are you able to speak and understand Japanese? You’re from another world. There's no way you'd just... know the language."

Kenneth looked at her for a moment, then gave a small, proud smile. "Ah, that. While you were gone in the Grand Archive, I took the liberty of learning the Translation Spell. It was written in one of the books Yuki and I found. It allows the user to understand any spoken language and translate their own words into the listener's native tongue."

Mikasa blinked in surprise. "Wait, so... everyone here is speaking Japanese, but to you, it's your native language?"

"Precisely," Kenneth said with a nod. "The spell adjusts speech automatically, so when I speak, it sounds to them as if I'm using their language, and I hear them in mine. It’s quite a useful bit of magic."

Mikasa stared at him, impressed. "That’s… actually really smart. But I didn’t know you could learn magic."

Kenneth chuckled softly. "I was never trained formally, but after witnessing your mastery, I figured it was time to learn a few things myself. Yuki found the spell, and I decided to put it to use. This world is strange enough without adding a language barrier to my troubles."

Mikasa sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Well, it definitely explains why you’re not getting completely lost in translation. Still, this whole situation is a mess..."

Mikasa groaned, realizing that she had left Emi waiting for over ten minutes. She was going to be furious.

“Kenneth, here,” she said, pulling a 5,000 yen bill from her wallet and handing it to him. “Go buy some normal clothes. I’ll meet you at the shop with the green logo after you’re done.”

Kenneth took the money, staring at it in confusion. “What is this?”

“It’s money. Just… ask someone where to buy clothes and use this to pay. I’ll explain later,” Mikasa said hurriedly before rushing back toward the café.

Kenneth stood in the alley, holding the strange paper bill in his hand as he watched Mikasa dash off. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion. He had been dropped into this bizarre world with no understanding of its customs, and now Mikasa had left him to fend for himself.

He grunted, turning the bill over in his hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he muttered. “These people use paper for currency? Ridiculous.”

Determined to figure things out on his own, Kenneth wandered back into the street, observing the people around him. There were vendors selling strange trinkets and food from carts, and he noticed someone nearby handing a similar paper bill to a vendor in exchange for a small item.

Kenneth narrowed his eyes, piecing together the logic. “So… this paper is their currency. It is used for trade.”

Feeling somewhat more confident, he approached a vendor selling various trinkets and miniature knight figurines. “Tell me,” Kenneth said, “where may I purchase suitable garb?”

The vendor, assuming Kenneth was playing along with some elaborate cosplay, grinned. “If you’re looking for clothes, the department store down the street’s got what you need. Just head over to that big building and ask for help.”

Kenneth nodded, grateful for the information. “Thank you. I shall find my garb there.”

As he made his way toward the towering department store, Kenneth marveled at the sheer size of the buildings around him. “These structures… they are as large as castles. How did these people build such wonders?”

Upon entering the store, Kenneth was immediately overwhelmed by the rows upon rows of clothing. There were so many different types of “garb” none of which looked remotely like the armor he was used to. He wandered through the aisles, unsure of what to choose, until a saleswoman noticed his confusion.

“Can I help you find something, sir?” she asked with a polite smile.

Kenneth nodded, though he still felt out of place. “I seek garb suitable for this land. Something… normal.”

The saleswoman chuckled, leading him toward the men’s section. She picked out a few options—a plain black shirt, a red flannel, and some ripped jeans. “These should do the trick. Want to try them on?”

Kenneth, still bewildered by the simple clothing, nodded. “Very well. I shall… try.”

After a few awkward minutes in the changing room, Kenneth emerged in his new outfit, his armor and lance tucked away in a bag. He looked down at himself, frowning. “The people of this world wear strange garb.”

The saleswoman smiled. “You look great! That’ll be 5,000 yen.”

Kenneth handed her the paper bill, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. “So this is how trade is done here.”

With his new clothes on, Kenneth wandered back out into the streets, feeling slightly more prepared to blend in. But as he walked, he marveled at the sheer number of people around him—far more than he had ever seen in the capital of Azura.

“These people… they live in such a strange world,” he muttered to himself.

“But I must find Mikasa.”

Kenneth tried to remember what Mikasa had said—something about a green logo. But the streets of Akihabara were a maze of signs, shops, and people, none of which seemed familiar to him. After wandering for what felt like an eternity, he found himself standing near a large building with a train logo that had a hint of green. He squinted at the sign.

“This must be the place,” he muttered, pushing his way through the crowd.

Just as he was about to approach the entrance, a wave of people exiting the nearby train station swept him along, pushing him in every direction. Kenneth growled in frustration, trying to resist the tide of bodies.

"Curse this place! I'm being tricked at every turn," he grumbled, finally breaking free of the crowd.

Finally, he spotted a guard, or at least what appeared to be one. The man was standing near the entrance of the station, and Kenneth made his way toward him.

“Excuse me,” Kenneth said, doing his best to sound polite. “I am looking for a place with a green logo. Where might I find it?”

The guard blinked, looking slightly confused. “Uh… are you talking about Starbucks?”

Kenneth had no idea what a Starbucks was, but he nodded anyway. “Yes. That must be it.”

The guard, sensing that Kenneth was a lost tourist, gave him quick directions and offered to lead him there. Kenneth followed, thankful for the guidance.

Kenneth, trusting the man’s authority, followed willingly. After winding through a few bustling streets, they finally reached the building with the familiar green logo that the guard called “Starbucks.”

Kenneth peered through the glass and spotted Mikasa sitting at a table inside. He waved to catch her attention, and sure enough, Mikasa noticed him instantly.

Her eyes widened in shock, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"Why did I ever let him shop alone?" she thought, cringing.

"He looks so plain and generic in that outfit." But, as much as she hated to admit it, Kenneth’s natural looks were still impressive—so much so that she found herself turning red again.

"He’s too hot! He could make any outfit look good!!"

Emi, noticing the sudden redness in Mikasa’s cheeks, raised an eyebrow. “Uh, are you okay?” she asked, her tone suspicious.

Before Mikasa could respond, Emi continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me you were transported to another world and now you’re an ‘Archivist’ who can erase worlds?” She scoffed. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Have you been reading too many novels or something?”

Mikasa, trying to keep calm, shook her head. “I’m telling the truth, Emi.” She hesitated for a moment, then made eye contact with Kenneth, who was still outside. She gave him a quick signal to come in, and, without hesitation, Kenneth pushed open the door and stepped inside the store.

Mikasa looked back at Emi, trying to keep her voice steady. “During my journey, I wasn’t alone. I was with a little girl… and a knight.”

Emi crossed her arms, her skepticism palpable. “Yeah, right. I’m not believing a word of this unless I see them with my own eyes.”

Right at that moment, Kenneth appeared at their table, standing tall and giving a slight bow. “Greetings,” he said formally, his voice calm and noble.

Emi’s eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. She stared at Kenneth in disbelief, her coffee slipping from her hands and spilling all over the table.

“You’ve got to be kidding me..” she muttered, her voice filled with shock.