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Projection. Chapter 7. Formación

Projection. Chapter 7. Formación

For about five seconds, I turned to gaze at the young woman who initially appeared entirely unfamiliar. Only upon realizing that it was Diana Horn, dressed in a formal beige business suit standing next to me, did I spring up from my chair, offering a slight bow as courtesy dictates when addressed by one's elder.

"May I join you?" asked the guest of BKDW, indicating an empty chair at my table.

"Yes, of course!" I nodded vigorously, akin to a bobblehead toy.

As I replied, my mind was spinning, rapidly processing the current situation. Was this a coincidence? Had I been under surveillance? Did I mess up somewhere?

Diana hung her familiar handbag on the edge of the chair and gracefully took her seat opposite me, her motions fluid like a river filling a valley.

"It seems we've never properly introduced ourselves," she began, beckoning a waiter with a practiced gesture without breaking eye contact. "My name is Diana. Diana Horn."

"I'm Izao," I responded, feeling compelled by etiquette to state my full name. "Izao Vaillant. Everything alright, Miss Horn? Any more attempts at robbing you?"

"No, none at all," she chuckled lightly. "And please, drop the formalities. It makes me feel old when a handsome young man addresses me so formally."

Her compliment was blunt, yet due to her gentle tone, it tempted me to believe that Izao, an awkward boy standing only five feet seven inches tall and weighing a mere fifty-five kilograms, could indeed be attractive. What might draw some interest from the opposite sex in my new body is the unusual combination of raven-black hair and bright emerald eyes. But in all other aspects, few people would consider Izao handsome.

"I'll try," I managed to say, knowing she expected some kind of response.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. Normally, such effusive cheerfulness would irk me, but it appeared my serene mood hadn't fully evaporated, and I didn't find her smile or energetic tone grating at all.

Either she was an outstanding actress, or she was genuinely pleased to see me. Most likely the former, since the latter lacked any logical explanation. Yes, I'd helped retrieve her purse, but that was the extent of our acquaintance. So why this sudden urge to engage with me?

"How surprising!" she mused after placing her order with the waiter. "It's my second time strolling in this city, and for the second time, fate brings me to you!" Was this an accusation? Unsure of how to respond without unnecessary aggression, I chose silence and a questioning expression. "Oh! I forgot to mention, I'm a guest here in Wilflaes, visiting from Vienna."

"Really? You don't have an accent at all," I feigned surprise. She didn't exhibit the typical harsh German pronunciation, indeed.

"I'm pleased to see you've recovered so swiftly!"

Her smile and polite concern were a veneer for a more pointed question: "How on earth are you healthy when just yesterday you were in the hospital with a concussion and multiple bruises?" Given her reason for being in Wilflaes, it was likely she was questioning whether my intervention in the robbery was purely coincidental, especially when there wasn't a single trace of injury on me.

Before I could come up with an appropriately truthful response, Diana was distracted by a message on her phone. She read it briefly and then, with a more thoughtful expression, read it again. Turning her gaze back to me, any previous hint of suspicion had vanished.

"It's a relief that you're in good health. Otherwise, I'd have felt awful... After all, it was due to my inattentiveness that you ended up in the hospital!" she confessed, her demeanor relaxing as she dropped her pretense. I wondered what that text message contained that had so drastically altered her behavior.

"The injury wasn't your fault, it was the robber's," I replied, mindful that abruptly leaving might raise suspicions. So I continued the polite conversation, intending to finish my tea as well.

"I'm deeply touched by your actions. People often say that the youth are indifferent and selfish. Your act flies in the face of such sentiments," she paused, taking a sip of the cocktail the waiter had brought. "Can I somehow express my gratitude?"

"Um... A simple 'thank you' would suffice." I pondered the idea of disregarding etiquette and making a swift exit. Her increased attention was starting to become disconcerting.

"No!" Diana quickly raised her hands in a dramatic gesture. "Do you want to leave a girl in your debt?" Had Izao been closer to her age, I might have interpreted this as flirting.

However, this speculation was so absurd that it didn't stand up to scrutiny. So why was she being so insistent? Did she have an obsession with repaying debts? If she were younger, I might have wondered if she were a knight bearing a blade named "Honor" or "Duty," but all the Knights are young, none older than twenty. If my guess about her obsession is correct, then I need to quickly think of something that will satisfy her urge to settle the debt.

"They serve excellent ice cream here," I ventured, recalling a fact from Izao's memory.

"Just one scoop of ice cream?" she queried, her eyebrows raised, as if implying that wasn't enough.

"A large serving of ice cream... very large, gigantic!" I said, reverting to a more youthful tone. I certainly wouldn't mind indulging in a pound of cold dessert in this heat. Besides, I wasn't concerned about catching a sore throat.

After hearing my request, Diana summoned the waiter and ordered a triple serving of pistachio ice cream, as I had indicated on the menu.

While we waited for our order, our capital city guest kept me entertained with conversation. She was the kind of person who loved to talk and knew how to engage her conversation partner. I wasn't at all surprised to learn that she worked as the Vice-Chairman of the Public Relations Council for the Vienna Magistrate; such work was a perfect fit for her natural talents. I found that my mood was lifting, and I was genuinely enjoying our light-hearted discussion about the city, the weather, and the relentless heat. Even my previous desire to distance myself from her quickly had vanished without a trace.

When the ice cream finally arrived, Diana cast a wary glance first at me and then at the sizable serving. I decided not to explain that half a kilogram wasn't too much for me. There was a time when Vicky and I had devoured even more while binge-watching some series. Besides, I'd never tasted ice cream in this world before, which suddenly seemed like a huge oversight that I was keen to rectify.

I scooped up a moderate amount, intending to savor the taste. But before I could bring the spoon to my mouth, the air around us thickened, and a dark figure materialized, inadvertently nudging my elbow. My hand jerked sideways, and the ice cream plopped onto the pristine table.

"What an unexpected meeting," a woman shrouded in black, reminiscent of a soot-stained mummy, intoned. Her voice dripped with such sarcasm and tension that I didn't immediately recognize the speaker. "And here I thought this 'hero' would be laid up in a hospital for a week!"

"Ouch!" Diana exclaimed, recovering from the initial shock. "Maya, you're as unexpected as ever!" She grabbed the young woman named Maya by the elbow and guided her onto a chair next to her. "Look," she pressed a few buttons on her phone before handing it to the newcomer. "Oh, and you two haven't been formally introduced!" Resuming her theatrical demeanor, the business-clad woman gestured towards me. "Maya, meet Izao. Izao, this is Maya." But then she quickly corrected herself, "Oh right, you already know her."

As Diana handled the formal introductions, I took a quick look around the room, appreciating Maya's forethought. Prior to leaving the Break, she'd waited until no one was looking our way, so her sudden appearance in the restaurant went unnoticed even by the waitstaff.

Meanwhile, Maya read a message on the phone screen. With a swift movement, she pulled out a small pin from the scarf that had been covering her face, letting it fall around her shoulders like a lightweight shawl. The transformation was striking: in place of a ninja garbed entirely in black, an elegant woman in a loose trouser suit now sat at our table. Such a dramatic change from a simple rearrangement of fabric — was it a testament to her keen fashion sense, or the work of the brilliant stylists at BKDW? The black attire might seem out of place in this heat, but overall, the sartorial transformation was stunning. I was so taken aback, I didn't even notice when Maya produced and donned the familiar, oversized glasses.

As I studied her, a lump formed in my throat. The circles under her eyes and her obvious fatigue made her look even older than Diana, despite being roughly ten years her junior. What sort of burdens was she carrying, that she not only seemed sleep-deprived but entirely sleepless for who knows how long?

"Maya is generally burdened with work," Miss Horn noted, catching my concerned expression. "And now, there is also my visit to share experiences..." Her casual demeanor and the ease with which she spoke suggested her visit to Wilflaes was no secret. After all, this woman didn't strike me as someone careless enough to disclose confidential information to a random acquaintance. "Should I order you a coffee?" Diana asked. Maya looked up from the phone and nodded. "Okay, but I've already told you, caffeine isn't a substitute for proper sleep." Maya shrugged at this remark, barely restraining a sharp retort. "And here I was, walking along the embankment, when I spotted our hero from yesterday in the window of this restaurant! I simply couldn't resist stopping by to say hello!"

Of course, of course, and who is this story for, I wonder? No, it might be possible that Diana chanced upon me, but it is unlikely that the BKDW representative's appearance here is purely coincidental. It is plausible that, upon seeing me in good health, Miss Horn grew concerned and immediately notified Maya, who promptly rushed here. I suspected that Diana purposely kept me engaged in conversation to prevent my early departure. If my hunch was correct, her seemingly innocuous chatter subtly instructed the woman in black about the "official" narrative, preventing any inadvertent slips.

"As my mentor always says, there are no accidents," Maya replied, returning the phone after reading the message.

I was unsure about the contents of the message, but much like Diana, Maya didn't seem to perceive me as a potential threat after reading it.

"Even the fact that an ostensibly ordinary boy turns out to have a Maker he knows!" Maya's voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

Ah! The look that Diana shot Maya practically screamed, "Why did you let that slip?" I suspected I could now guess the gist of that message — not word for word, of course, but in substance. The entire scenario was making sense now.

Diana must have seen me at the table, reacted with surprise, and then messaged Maya. She didn't immediately head to the restaurant, but likely also messaged the doctor — whose contact details she presumably had — questioning how the boy who was bedridden with multiple injuries just yesterday was suddenly eating lunch by the waterfront today, looking perfectly healthy. After posing her question, she entered the restaurant to keep me occupied until Maya's arrival. When she received the doctor's message, presumably explaining my rapid recovery, her demeanor towards me changed. She might have attempted to send a new message to Maya, cancelling her visit, but Maya didn't receive it because she was in the Break, where mobile networks are non-operational.

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I could disregard Maya's comment, considering I was occupied with my ice cream, but it wouldn't suit my style to let it slide.

"That's how myths get debunked," I sighed heavily. "And here I was, thinking that medical confidentiality was inviolable." That was indeed once a sincere belief of mine.

"Oh my, what a destroyer of childhood myths I've become!" Maya retorted sarcastically, arching her eyebrows at my words. "You seem to have grown out of that age and should understand that when it comes to inter-state security cooperation, no one gives a damn about such details."

"Maya!" Miss Horn exclaimed, evidently unable to bear another round of "revelations" from the raig. "Izao, please forgive her. She's been so overwhelmed lately, she's not thinking before she speaks."

"Hmm..." From the look that darted out from beneath her glasses, it was clear that the brunt of her sleep deprivation was likely a result of the Vienna representative's visit. I speculated that as a public figure and official, Maya might have been assigned to arrange and accompany Diana. For a fleeting moment, I sensed that the girl was growing weary of her loquacious guest's company, perhaps preferring to catch up on some much-needed sleep rather than share a table with her.

Unexpectedly, I found myself feeling a sense of pity for this girl. Peculiar... why? She was a stranger to me. Yes, I had read a fair amount about her, largely rumors, of course, but to claim that I knew her would be a significant stretch. Yet, her weary appearance stirred in me a desire to take care of her. At the same time, I was fully aware of her ability to fend for herself, having already endured five Breakthroughs. It was an irrational sentiment... could it be spurred by the fact that without those absurd glasses, a good night's sleep, and her natural hair color, she might be deemed attractive, and that I — Izao — might have taken a liking to her? No, definitely not. She was not my type. I had a penchant for petite, delicate, fragile girls. In contrast, Maya was a few centimeters taller than Izao and boasted an athletic build. She could hardly be described as fragile or petite. However, her non-petite bust did command attention. No matter how much she attempted to conceal it behind a poncho or a baggy suit, an honest C-cup was undeniably there. If I remembered her projection correctly, this feature of her figure was even more pronounced there. Not even leather armor could disguise it. Her appealing figure, coupled with her slightly rounded, open, and attractive face, made Maya the most popular raig in Wilflaes and possibly the world. This popularity didn't surprise me; my reaction, however, did. I felt a strong urge to help her, akin to aiding a homeless kitten tormented by hooligans.

While I savored my ice cream, barely registering its flavor, my gaze lingered on Maya. I was attempting to discern precisely what intrigued me about her. All the while, Diana chattered away incessantly. Miss Horn had a classic case of professional deformation — she could prattle on about everything and nothing for hours, oblivious to moments when silence would be the wiser choice. Maya, on the other hand, sat quietly, sipping her coffee and exerting enormous effort to ward off sleep or suppress a yawn.

Fortunately, my ice cream bowl was nearing empty, because despite her endless chatter, Diana was far from unobservant. She had noticed my growing attention to Maya. Every time I glanced at the girl, Miss Horn would instantly wink at me, attempting to involve a sleepy Maya in the conversation and subtly hinting that I was smitten by her, suggesting that a bit of flirting might lift her spirits. Fatigued as she was, Maya failed to understand even Diana's most blatant cues. It seemed that Miss Horn was the sole person who derived enjoyment from the situation. She savored the moment, clearly in her element.

Upon another glance at the girl in the black shawl, I suddenly realized that she should probably be asleep rather than sitting here with us. This realization stemmed from the fact that since Diana was merely strolling around the city, negotiations for the day must have concluded, allowing Maya some respite. But then she received a call about me, forcing her to change into work attire and rush off to what turned out to be a false alarm. And now, she sat here, constrained by either her upbringing or natural courtesy, unable to excuse herself and retire. Acknowledging this, I hastily finished my ice cream, responded to Diana's idle queries, and then flagged down a waiter to request the bill.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," I stated as I settled the bill. "Thank you for the delightful company, but I have an exercise session scheduled soon."

"Exercising? You?" Maya instantly roused herself, casting a skeptical glance at my slender arms and unathletic build.

"I'll be resuming my studies in the fall, so..." My sentence trailed off, since the "Word" prevented me from lying.

"Study, university! Such loaded words!" Diana's eyes widened dramatically. "I'm positively envious! Those were the best years..."

"Pff," the Knight responded in her usual manner.

"Miss Horn," I rose from the table and bowed. "I wish you a quick recovery from that incident and hope that you fall in love with our city." I deliberately shifted to a more formal tone, but Diana seemed oblivious.

"Wilflaes is a beautiful city," the capital's guest responded neutrally.

"Maya, I apologize for any inadvertent distress caused."

"What? You're leaving already?" She had managed to doze off with her eyes open, losing track of the conversation. "Wait a minute. Diana, do you have a pen?"

"Sure... Here you go."

Maya took the offered pen and quickly scribbled something on the back of the check before passing it to me. A phone number, perhaps? But reality had other plans.

I took the note from her, reading: "Grow big and don't get sick. Maya Grim" followed by her signature.

"Eh?" was all I could muster after reading it.

"Didn't you ask for an autograph?"

"Did I?" I remembered that I had indeed made such a request at the hospital, successfully spooking her in the process.

"A gift." She punctuated her declaration with a grand gesture. "If you ever need to, you can auction it off later. I hear my autographs fetch a decent price."

"Maya!!!" Diana immediately reprimanded her.

As Diana scolded the raig girl, I waved goodbye and quickly exited the restaurant. I had to admit that this beleaguered girl had somehow stirred my sympathy, but the close scrutiny of other raigs was not something I desired. Therefore, it would be for the best if our paths never crossed again. My anonymity was of greater importance to me than any fleeting youthful infatuation.

I returned home in a bizarre, ambivalent mood that I struggled to comprehend. On one hand, this encounter had unnerved me. It revealed how any slip could risk my exposure. On the other hand, it seemed my youthful hormones were acting up. I felt an unusual lightness within me and an overwhelming desire to skip along, singing to the rhythm of the music pouring out of my headphones.

To avoid indulging these absurd inclinations, I didn't walk home but caught a tram from the nearest stop and calmly rode it to my block. I stopped by a grocery store on the way and stocked up on supplies to replenish my refrigerator, considering how visits to cafes and restaurants could thin my wallet considerably. Sausages and pasta, bacon and eggs were more than enough for me to get by.

After I had reached my apartment and filled up the refrigerator, I didn't undress but instead slipped into the Break. My thoughts immediately became more placid and balanced, devoid of the strange infatuation that had somehow associated everything I saw with Maya, from the clouds to the sleek silhouette of a passing car.

The fact that I seemed to have emerged from my post-death depression, so to speak, and had started to genuinely engage with this world, treating it as my own, had certain implications. Earlier, I was insulated from the vibrant and intense emotions that come with a youthful body, courtesy of my constant immersion in my thoughts, emotions, and fears, and spending as much time as possible in the Break. Now, it seemed, I would have to learn to live with them.

Izao had always been a hopeless romantic, ready to lose his heart at a random smile from a passing girl. It seemed I had inherited this trait along with his body. Or was this merely a bout of hormonal surge? The situation was complicated by the persisting aristocracy of shapeshifters who, combined with the sensums and religious institutions, ensured a considerably more patriarchal society here. In this society, discussions around sex, especially involving minors, were predominantly taboo. It wasn't uncommon for girls to retain their virginity till seventeen; it was, in fact, the norm. If Izao's memories served me right, no one in his graduating class had engaged in any intimate activities.

Perhaps my reaction was amplified because my hormones went haywire if I didn't enter the Break for an extended period. But why would someone like Maya appeal to me? Not the glamorous, poster-girl version of her, but the real Maya: haggard, with dark circles under her eyes, poorly dyed hair, a fatigued and cloudy gaze, and slightly trembling hands. She seemed more like an overwrought and downtrodden kitten. Granted, she had an impressive figure, but she usually wore outfits designed to conceal it as much as possible. If we were to compare her to Diana, a natural beauty who knows how to present herself, it's peculiar that Diana didn't stir any reaction within me. Except, of course, during our first meeting when I was enamored by her legs. But that was more an admiration for aesthetics rather than a boiling surge of desire.

I was lucky that after inhabiting Izao's body, I gained the abilities of the raigs. I could become a projection and purge my mind of these youthful obsessions. I was, after all, a rational, mature, and experienced man. Yet, I was uncertain if I could have managed the rush of emotions that almost overpowered me today when I was outside the influence of the Break. Indeed, could I, considering I was actually reminded of the girl I had met at the restaurant by every curve I encountered? And at the table, while eating ice cream, no amount of willpower was sufficient to keep my gaze from straying toward her.