Upon reaching the streets of Kingsville, I check my phone.

7:13 PM.

Fourty seven minutes until I have to face her.

During this time, the logical action would be to prepare, go to the shop to buy some weapons, and maybe make a homemade bomb or something.

"What a joke."

I'm not good with preparing for shit like this.

A flaw in my already very imperfect character, I'm aware.

The only thing that comes to mind is to buy a sword. Some weapon I can use to cut Aedi down, stay at range, poke a few holes with and whatnot.

Even so, would that really be the right call?

In the end, she does have a gun. And while I seem to have regenerative abilities, I don't doubt that getting hit by it will kill me instantly.

We're talking about someone who got her arse whooped by a few knees to the stomach. So, consider me pessimistic, but I doubt a bullet is weaker than her bludgeoning me.

With that in mind, I continue to wander the empty streets, convinced that I'm better off just sprinting at her and punching.

Man.

If I'm going to die, I'd want it to be on a half-full stomach. Engorged enough to be satisfied while not stacked to feel lazy. To that end, I find a small store nearby, 'Ben's Candy' engraved in red luminescent lettering, and a slew of treats on display. Seizing the moment, I approach with steady footsteps, eyes still on the snacks.

Then something weird.

An image.

Reflected in the window-pane is a figure behind me: shoulder-length blue hair, purple robes and a grey scarf around their neck. Shorter than me by maybe two heads.

And to top it all off, a literal golden bull mask covering their face.

....Really?

There's obvious, and then there's, well, this.

You might as well call it cosplay at this point.

At this point in time, any traces of doubt has faded from my mind.

Yeah, this person is probably out to get me. I've taken my chances with plausible denial.

Facing two 'unique' characters subsequently in one day is way too much of a coincidence. Of course, I understand that attacking them in broad daylight (night light? light under the moon?) is dumb.

So, I concoct a plan.

I walk forward, just forward, for about two minutes. Then, I promptly turn to a left corner. Straight into an alley, about ten steps or so, and wait. The overall premise is incredibly stupid; I won't lie. However, given the relatively, uh, non-discreet profile of my potential enemy, I think it might work.

I keep my gaze on the corner of the alley.

Exhaling a preparatory breath, I wait.

All things considered, I should be able to take care of them here, given the relative emptiness of the streets.

Suddenly, I spot it.

This is working better than expected.

Walking into frame is a sliver of purple fabric, the same one on my follower's robe.

I wait a bit longer. Anticipating them to face me in full view before I finally commit. The moment is nearing; any second and it'll happen; any second and—

Got you.

I aim for a choke. One hand on their upper arm and the other on their shoulder. I flip them arond. Then my right arm extends around their front neck, and my left behind their nape.

Under a second, and I've got them in a standing sleeper choke hold.

Holding them to my chest, I drag them deeper into the alley, a dozen metres in.

"Respond in either yes or no. Nothing but those two words unless I tell you to. Say anything else, and I won't hesitate to snap your neck."

I reduce a tiny amount of force in my arms to not suffocate them.

Not going to lie, but having someone in such a compromising position is somewhat entertaining.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Deepening my voice, I go as far as to add a rasp onto it, hoping to both mask my identity and engage in theatricality.

"Talk."

No response.

"I won't hesitate to break a bone or two."

Hm.

"I'm going to kill you."

I consider an alternative.

"If you say nothing, it means your parents never loved you, and you've got peas for brains".

My threats fall on deaf ears. At this point, it comes to me that I'm either terribly unimpressive or that my victim is just that mentally sturdy.

The fact is though that they didn't even stir at any of my threats. Not a single movement, extra breath or shake, nothing, as if they're a statue, somehow unable to respond and acknowledge what I'm saying.

Actually.

Wait.

Fuck.

The realisation hits me like a speeding truck with a drunk driver behind wheels.

What type of interrogator am I?

Chances are, I overdid it and strangled my stalker into unconsciousness.

....

Testing my theory, I rest them on the floor, back down.

Twenty seconds pass.

Yep.

No response.

I'm at crossroads right now, eyebrows creased and fingers occasionally jabbing the body, checking for any sign of life.

Befuddled is a word that describes my current state quite well.

Like seriously.

What do I do with them?

I could just kill them here and there. But I don't really well, want to resort to that just yet.

Despite the threat they might pose, the possibility of extracting some information is too tempting. Plus, on further introspection, they're kinda unintimidating. That's to say, they're on the shorter side of my enemies so far. Now, I'm tall, don't get me wrong. 186cm or so, and yet, judging from their body, they must be like, what... 167 or something?

Is that normal for an adult?

Am I right in assuming they're pretty young?

Did they send a kid after me?

Wait, no, that's not the correct line of thinking to go by here.

Remember, Camille, Remember.

You're living in a world with vampires, monsters and demons. It very well could be that they're secretly a 1000000 year old abomination trapped in the body of a teenager.

I have no concrete proof.

Yet, if there's one thing that might help, it would be seeing what they look like. Appearances can help one discern a lot. You know... Vampires are pale; demons have weird glowing eyes, and monsters are something, something, something...

Fuck it.

On the spur of instinct, I take off their mask. Clutching his face cover to my chest, I gulp down a mouthful of air.

—Badump

Ahh, what the hell?

My heart...

This... This is awkward.

The mystery of how they look is gone...

And yet, the thing that replaces it is something even stronger.

Something inexplicable.

Something I don't think I'm quite used to.

Something that's causing me to blush and my heart to pump a little too fast.

I know this feeling.

This unwieldy tenderness one might direct towards cats and dogs.

...

Okay, seriously, why am I finding them so cute?

I mean, I know why.

Their face is just so pinchable. So damned pretty. Skin like a lustrous alabaster white. And their eyes. My goodness, their eyes are like blue gems, sapphires so shiny and radiant in their gaze.

"...."

Dammit.

Since when do I describe things like a romance author?

I'm hardly the type to be this moved by appearance.

And yet all of a sudden, I have over a dozen ways to describe them.

Endearing. Engaging. Yummy. Enchanting. Pretty. Adorbs. Loveable. Charming. Cutesy. Delightful. Sweet. Lovely. Gleaming. Bright. Euphoric. Edible.

How many are those?

How many adjectives did I just pull out of fucking nowhere?

More than that, why do I want to bite him so much?

The remainder of my rationality is fleeing my mind. My head is in the clouds. I can't think straight. Whatever I should be doing, the goal at hand, all those are starting to fade into nothingness.

Iron.

It's then that the taste of blood floods my mouth. Unconsciously, I'd been biting down on my lip the entire time, no doubt only now inflicting damage.

In my own painful way, I've wrung back some control.

I rapidly lunge for the mask. Then, without hesitation, slot it back on the boys' face.

"———Hah".

There are goosebumps all over my body.

Despite it only being a minute, that moment seemed to last an eternity.

Whatever it is, it's not normal. There's something about his face that affects people, I'm sure. Magic, or some supernatural manifestation, anything that can move me someone like me to such a degree.

It has to be. Nothing short of fighting can draw out this much emotion from me.

A short pause. Using my sleeve, I wipe away my forehead's sheen of sweat.

Better get going, I think.

And while I'm at it, take this potential ally (or enemy), with me.

Picking the strange boy off the ground and onto my shoulder, I begin my trek back to the apartment, retracing the same path I took to reach that godforsaken alley.