While Super Drill was a masterpiece, there weren't many collectibles available on the market.
Super Drill was very niche and had never even been mentioned in the original series.
Apparently, people in that world had a certain resistance to 3D; most shows were either 2D or live action. Super Drill, however, had been a pioneer, consisting of 3D animation with slight 2D effects.
I would say they had done a great job considering the level of 3D model development at the time, but for the people of that world, it was still a novelty that was hard to accept.
As if that hadn't been enough, each episode was very long and dense, making it intimidating for a young audience. On top of that, there were several other difficulties, such as the fact that it was only available on TubeTube and had never aired on public TV.
There were some online fandoms, and although there was no official research, most of the audience was probably adults in their thirties.
The company responsible also had closed capital and consisted of a small team of three people, along with a few freelancers.
It was impressive that they managed to maintain such a good series on such a low budget.
But the most frustrating thing was that while shallow shows like Crying Breakfast Friends! and Camp Pining Hearts received huge fandoms and excessive budgets despite their questionable quality, Super Drill Adventures was so ostracized.
That was why cosmetics were extremely rare, almost like urban legends. Even rarer were official cosmetics rather than fan-made ones.
There were probably fewer than a dozen in that world, most of them prototypes that were meant for sale but never saw the light of day.
There was no official way to obtain them, and their existence was never confirmed since no commercial or official announcement was ever made on the official channel.
But right in front of me was a very rare, high-quality specimen. I didn't know exactly how it had appeared or where it had come from, but missing the chance to obtain it was something I knew I would never forgive myself for.
There was only one problem.
I had never been very good at aiming.
In my previous life, I played hero shooters using characters with high agility and combo-based abilities to compensate for my poor aim.
I looked at the Super Drill with anxiety. I only had three attempts, and I needed to hit the target while accounting for every obstacle.
I held the gun with both hands, trying to find a comfortable stance, but keeping an object steady in midair was not simple.
I wrapped the bullets in dark energy and analyzed them for greater precision, going through the data.
Something strange I noticed was that the diameter of some bullets was much smaller than others, and when inserted into the gun, they did not maintain stability.
On top of that, the button could jam depending on how much force was applied. This was due to internal deformation in the plastic. If a normal person tried to shoot with this thing, it was very likely that the bullet would curve off course.
Even so, it was not impossible to fire. I just needed to be careful when positioning the gun so the bullet would not stray too far.
After analyzing the weapon, I examined the environment. Two fans rotated along the bullets' path. If the bullets entered the airflow, their angle could shift by thirty degrees, or they might be pushed back without ever hitting anything.
But that was a simple problem to solve. All I had to do was account for a thirty-degree distortion when firing.
The last factor was the moving shelf. Studying its internal structure, the pattern was not difficult to figure out. There were a total of three movement patterns, and every time one finished, it rotated along with the shelf below.
I simulated the environment in my mind, reconstructing every variable with as much precision as possible. Thanks to the gem's mental projection ability, it was not very difficult.
In my mental image, I added a bullet and fired without any preparation. As expected, it was a complete waste. Because of the gun's defect, the moment I fired, it shot off in a completely different direction.
I reconstructed the mental image and fired again, this time accounting for the angle distortion and the flaw in the weapon. My mental projection held the gun in midair, but due to the instability of my grip, the bullet only managed to reach the shelf without hitting anything.
On my third attempt, I solved the stability issue by resting the gun on the counter itself, as if it were a long-range rifle. Thanks to that, all I needed to do was calculate the exact position with the distortions in mind and fire.
Carefully, I pressed the button and fired. The bullets followed the predicted path. However, not all of them reached the target. Because of the delay when pressing the trigger, the shots were slightly out of sync.
Even the bullets that hit were not strong enough to knock the toy down, since it was too heavy to fall from a single impact.
That was a bit problematic. It meant that to win the toy, I would need to hit the exact same spot repeatedly to throw off its balance point.
I reconstructed the mental image again and again, but my projection kept making some kind of mistake each time.
It seemed I needed to adjust my strategy a little.
On my thirty-seventh attempt, I tried hitting nearby toys and realized I could win around seventy percent of the prizes with my current bullets.
Depending on which toys were hit, the counter could tilt slightly, making it easier to strike heavier targets.
If I could hit the larger toys at the front, I could also affect the ones in the back.
Instead of focusing on a single target, manipulating the environment seemed like a more reliable and promising approach, especially since there were much bigger targets than the Super Drill.
I simulated the best possible outcome while considering the other toys, and after roughly one hundred eighty-five attempts, I found a pattern with a ninety-five percent success rate.
Maybe I could raise the success rate even further if I kept simulating, but I felt my gem overloading from performing so many calculations at once. If I were in my normal condition, this level of strain would not be a problem, but after everything that had happened today, I was already exhausted.
If I kept using my mind like that, I might not even be able to maintain my disguise. The only way to recover more energy was by sleeping and letting my body restore itself naturally.
With a bit of frustration, I ended my mental simulation and refocused on the real world, which seemed to return to its normal speed.
Even though I had run countless simulations, only a few minutes had passed in reality, one of the benefits of having an alien brain.
With the preparations complete, I finally took a look at the real target.
My gaze landed exactly where Doug was aiming: a large teddy bear. It needed only a slight push to fall.
Because of its size, there was a high probability that another toy would fall with it.
There is a rule that says 80 percent of the results come from 20 percent of your actions, and this also applied to this game.
This bear was the key to winning.
With a cold expression, I focused on the exact moment the teddy bear would pass in front of my sight, and seconds before it reached the ideal position, I fired.
A single bullet flew cleanly into an inconvenient spot. If it had followed its natural course, it likely would not have hit anything. However, that was not the case once the variables were considered.
Because of the wind, the bullet's path was distorted and slightly weakened. The force would not have been enough to knock down the target on its own, but thanks to Doug, who had weakened it with his shots, even such a weak bullet managed to topple the teddy bear.
The toy did not fall immediately but instead turned sideways, knocking down the toy next to it, a ball with a plastic stand.
The stand tilted, sending the ball downward. The ball then bounced slightly on the moving counter, knocking down a good portion of the toys around it until it hit the edge and bounced back to the top shelf.
Thanks to the counter's motion, the ball shot forcefully toward the toys in the center, but it was not strong enough to knock them all down on its own. However, in the process, it hit the button of a mechanical monkey with cymbals.
The monkey, its trajectory altered, marched toward the remaining toys, knocking them to the ground until it collided with the last one at the end of the shelf, a surprise box.
Upon activating the button, a toy clown popped out and struck the top shelf.
The clown hit the shelf three times before losing momentum. In my simulations, not all the toys were knocked down. At least, that was how it should have gone.
But something strange happened.
For some reason, the shelf suddenly stopped moving, as if someone had deactivated it.
Normally, the toy clown would have been able to knock down three of the ten toys on the top shelf, but thanks to the abrupt stop combined with the clown's blows, not three but eight toys fell, leaving only the last two at the edge.
This intervention was not in my calculations, and although it produced unexpected results, it also created a problem. It altered the clown's final position, preventing it from striking the Limited Edition Super Drill.
Of the two remaining toys, one was a porcelain princess, and the other was the Super Drill I desired so much.
My face darkened as I realized that, despite all my simulations producing so many successful outcomes, the plan had still failed miserably to hit its intended target.
A wave of shame and impatience washed over me.
In my haste, I tried to aim at the Super Drill, which stood imposingly in its place. I convinced myself after a mere four simulations and fired my two remaining bullets.
The first bullet successfully struck the Super Drill, but it was not enough to bring it down. That was fine. The last one could finish the job.
However, to my surprise, the last projectile completely missed the Super Drill. Instead, it hit the porcelain doll next to it, which fell lightly like a feather.
"What...?"
For a moment, I felt as though all the blood had drained from my body, leaving me completely pale.
Why had the bullet deviated from its path? All the variables were in order.
According to the bullet's weight and trajectory, there was a high chance of hitting at least some part of the target, even if not exactly where I aimed.
Confusion clouded my mind, leaving me disoriented.
I replayed the same simulation in my mind, and the result was identical. The bullet would hit the target in every scenario.
The only explanation was that either I was unable to produce accurate results or there was a problem with the variables I had analyzed.
Regarding the accuracy of my simulations, I was certain they were close to reality. It might have been arrogant, but I had conducted far more complex experiments using gem technology. Compared to that, hitting a target with a toy gun was child's play.
So the problem likely lay in the variables.
The best solution was to verify the data.
After reviewing the calculations I had made, I finally realized a fundamental problem: the weight of the third bullet was considerably different from that of the second.
Apparently, in my haste, I had generalized the bullets' weight to simplify the simulation and increase its speed.
My mistake was failing to consider that the difference from one bullet to another could be significant enough to produce completely different outcomes.
The last bullet I fired was not only thinner but also hollow. The results could never have been the same, and even if it had hit the target, it would not have had enough force to knock it down.
All hope had rested on the second bullet. If I had been careful and struck the most vulnerable point, the toy would have fallen.
Instead, I rushed for quick results and lost a precious opportunity.
A wave of melancholy and sadness filled my eyes.
Even though most of the toys had fallen, the one I wanted most remained standing.
I had been arrogant and greedy.
I slowly lowered the gun onto the counter, suppressing the strong emotions swirling inside me.
I knew it was just a toy, no matter how precious and incredible it seemed.
As an adult, the rational decision was to give up and accept my mistakes. This was punishment for my arrogance.
Perhaps, if this had happened some time ago, when I was still easily swayed by my emotions, I would have fallen into severe anxiety and instability.
But I was no longer the impulsive Peridot of the past. I knew when to let go.
I looked at my hands gripping the toy gun so tightly they seemed ready to bleed, and little by little, I loosened them.
When my hands finally relaxed, I handed the toy gun to Connie, who accepted it without a word.
It would be a lie to say I was not disappointed. I just wanted to leave and forget everything.
But no matter how long I waited, neither Doug nor Connie moved. They stood there like statues.
Connie held the gun with her mouth slightly open in shock, and Doug looked so surprised his eyes seemed ready to pop out. However, the strangest person was not either of the Maheswarans. It was the mustachioed man, whose face had gone so pale he resembled a corpse.
His hand trembled as he gripped a remote control.
Only when they noticed my gaze did the world seem to move again.
Connie approached me, holding both my arms, her face right in front of mine as if stars were forming in her eyes.
"How did you do that? Even Dad couldn't knock down a single toy...! And how did you manage to shoot with that gun? When I tried, the bullet always went somewhere else…"
Her face was so excited that her usually shy demeanor seemed to have completely vanished.
I was the one who had hit the toys, but Connie seemed far more excited than I was, which was a little comical in itself.
However, if she kept gripping my arms like that, there was no way I could answer any of her questions.
So, before her excitement got out of control, I grabbed her cheeks with my hands and gently pulled them to the sides.
As I did, I admired the elasticity of her cheeks. It was the first time I'd examined someone's expression so closely since I began "seeing" with my own eyes.
Looking closely, Connie's face shared many similarities with Priyanka's, though the elasticity was on another level. Perhaps because she was still a child, her skin was more supple.
What was Priyanka like when she was little? Considering her rational and self-controlled personality, she was probably just as intelligent as Connie, but with a more serious air.
I stretched Connie's cheeks in a few different directions, curious about how far they would go. Her eyes were a vivid brown, and her eyebrows were neatly shaped.
Her hair was very curly. Unlike my slightly wavy hair, hers formed tight curls that returned to their original shape even after being stretched.
I wondered if they were soft to the touch. Even when I ran my hands over them, it didn't feel like I truly sensed anything.
It was a shame.
I lost myself in touching Connie's face until a small hand covered mine, breaking the moment.
I looked at Connie again. Her face was as red as a tomato. My hands had left clear marks on her cheeks, and the redness was visible even against her darker skin.
"Sorry, I got a little too excited…" she said, touching her flushed cheeks apologetically.
In my attempt to stop her advance, I'd gone a bit too far. This was probably a side effect of using my mind so intensely; it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay aware of my surroundings.
"Was this your first time using a gun? Do you usually practice your aim?"
Despite everything, Connie was still very curious about my performance. She clearly wasn't planning to let it go without getting a few answers.
I thought about how to respond. In my previous life, I had played a lot of FPS games. My aim was not exceptional, but it was not bad either, about average.
Still, without the simulations, I probably would've missed every shot.
[Somewhat.]
After a moment of thought, I answered vaguely. Honestly, I didn't have the energy to maintain a long conversation. Connie still looked curious, but she didn't ask any more questions, which was a relief.
Instead, she took my hands and examined them openly. I looked at her in confusion, but since I'd touched her face without hesitation earlier, I didn't have much ground to complain.
I shifted my attention to Doug, who appeared to be locked in a heated argument with the stall owner.
"Sir, please reconsider. If you take all these toys, I won't have anything left to sell," the stall owner pleaded, clutching Doug's pant legs and looking up at him pitifully.
Doug, however, remained unmoved.
"My daughter won those toys fairly. How could I possibly ask her to give them back?"
"'Fairly,' you say…?" the mustachioed man replied, clearly upset. "She obviously cheated! There's no way she could've knocked down that many toys!"
Doug's presence shifted instantly. He crossed his arms and looked down at the man with open disdain.
"Cheated? My daughter would never do something like that, unlike a certain scammer. Haven't you already earned enough by deceiving little children?"
The man fell silent.
It was the first time I'd seen Doug act so firmly. At home, he usually had an easygoing air, but when it mattered, he could be incredibly difficult to deal with.
Seeing the shooting gallery owner's expression, I felt a twinge of guilt. After all, this was probably his livelihood, and without the toys, there wasn't much left to attract customers.
Truthfully, I didn't care much about the toys anyway. Aside from the Super Drill, they were all far too childish for my tastes.
I tugged lightly at Connie's clothes and asked her for a small favor.
[I want these.]
I handed her a list of three toys.
"You only want these?" Connie asked, confused.
I nodded nonchalantly.
She gathered the toys and brought them over. As soon as she handed them to me, I gave one back.
It was a soccer ball. Connie had always been physically active, and even now she attended the tennis club three times a week.
"Is this for me?" she asked.
I nodded again.
Connie accepted it slowly, her expression touched.
"Thank you very much," she said with a wide, bright smile.
The toy gun had been hers to begin with, so there was no reason for such a reaction.
After that, I approached Doug, who was still arguing with the stall owner.
With each turn of the wheelchair, my mind grew more turbulent.
When I got close enough, I picked up a large teddy bear and poked Doug in the back with it.
He turned around in surprise.
"For me?" He pointed at himself.
He seemed quite surprised to see the familiar teddy bear returning to his arms, but that wasn't so surprising if you stop to think about it.
This trip's real purpose was to grow closer to Doug and clear up misunderstandings. My simulation had only worked because of the teddy bear Doug had hit earlier and a small addition of luck.
More than anything, I could see how much effort he had put into this.
He really wanted it.
I avoided eye contact and suppressed my instincts as I handed him the toy.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, Doug accepted it and smiled, extending his hands toward me.
I trembled unconsciously as they approached, but thankfully, they stopped halfway. As if teasing me, Doug hovered his hands above my head without touching me.
After a brief pause, he withdrew them and smiled gently.
"Thank you."
Both Doug and Connie wore very similar smiles, though I would have appreciated it if he had avoided the teasing.
I sighed inwardly and placed the last toy into my bag. It was a porcelain doll. I was not particularly interested in it, but it seemed to be the most expensive item in the collection.
It would not hurt to take it as a souvenir for Priyanka, who could not come along.
I rolled my wheelchair back a few centimeters and tugged lightly at Connie's sleeve. I did not need to say anything. She understood immediately and began explaining to Doug that I did not want the remaining toys.
The mustachioed man looked as though he had risen from the ashes upon hearing this, but Doug simply turned to me and asked seriously,
"Are you sure about this? There is plenty of room in the car to take them."
Once again, the man's expression collapsed into despair. But I had no intention of prolonging his suffering any further.
[Enough.]
Seeing my reaction, Doug observed me for a moment before glancing at the bag where I had placed the porcelain doll.
"That doll is for your mother, isn't it?"
He followed up with a surprisingly sharp question. I was not sure how he had guessed, but there was no reason to deny it.
I nodded, and Doug's expression grew more solemn.
"You really do not want any of the other toys?"
Reading his lips, I glanced briefly at the Super Drill, then looked away and shook my head.
Doug thought for a moment before nodding.
"Alright. I will return the other toys to their owner."
I sighed in relief, thinking the matter was finally settled, but Doug was not finished.
"However, Maheswarans do not accept favors for free."
"…?"
Doug picked up the toy gun, which still had five bullets left, and aimed at the only remaining prize.
I watched him intently, almost in a trance.
The first bullet curved wide and missed completely. The second grazed the target slightly, and the third jammed mid-flight, striking the shelf instead.
Unlike my own attempt, Doug struggled noticeably to hit even a single target.
Still, I could not deny the growing sense of anticipation. If I had had a functioning heart, it probably would have stopped at that moment.
The fourth shot grazed the target again, making the doll wobble but remain standing. Finally, the last bullet struck the super drill squarely in the head, knocking it down.
Out of five attempts, only three shots even made contact, but when the toy fell, Doug looked as proud as if he had knocked down the entire display himself.
He picked up the Super Drill, the one I had worked so hard to obtain, and placed it directly in front of me with a proud smile.
"You gave me one, so it is only natural that I give you one too, right?"
My gaze locked onto the Super Drill. Its red cape fluttered under the night lights, and rust-like details were etched into the plastic, as if marking the hero's battles against evil.
Doug smiled as he handed it to me. In that moment, he looked like a light in the darkness, almost as bright as the toy itself.
Still dazed, I grabbed the Super Drill and hugged it tightly, as if afraid someone might snatch it away.
If it had not been for Doug, I probably would have regretted this for the rest of my life.
I looked up at him and tried to think of a proper way to thank him. A simple thank you did not feel sufficient, so I focused on being as sincere as possible.
I poured all my concentration into my face and projected Connie's image in my mind, more specifically, the smile she had given me earlier.
I adjusted my facial muscles and struggled to recreate it. In the end, I squinted slightly, placed my fingertips at the corners of my lips, and stretched them upward into an awkward smile.
It was meant to look gentle, but it ended up resembling something from a horror movie and fell deep into the uncanny valley.
Doug stared at me in silence for several seconds, which made my anxiety spike. Then he burst out laughing.
"What is that face?"
Fortunately, he seemed more amused than frightened, though that did not make it any less humiliating.
I quickly pulled my hands away from my face and turned aside to hide, but Doug's laughter only grew louder.
I definitely needed to practice smiling.
After a few more minutes of uncontrollable laughter, Doug wiped the tears from his eyes and finally spoke.
"I am glad you liked it."
Seeing that shameless grin after my public humiliation, I felt nothing but resentment.
Still, when I looked down at the Super Drill in my arms, all those feelings melted away.
I was very easy to please.
*
In the end, we only took one toy per person.
The man with the mustache kept shooting me frightened looks and even offered us money to leave, which was an unsettling fact.
That man's expression seemed more desperate than that of the homeless people in my neighborhood who lived on handouts.
Perhaps, like any other world, economically unstable people still existed. Whether in fiction or real life, people in difficult circumstances would always continue to exist.
I looked at the toy in my hands in a daze.
Setting aside the philosophical questions of this world, the fact that I had obtained a limited edition in such an unexpected place filled me with an energy I did not know I possessed.
I felt like jumping and laughing maniacally while clutching the toy.
Super Drill's cover was torn and stained with corrosion, and parts of its body had been damaged as if it had a hard fight. When exposed to light, the mark on his chest glowed majestically.
I was one of the few people in the world who owned this model. Compared to other fans, would that not make me one of the most devoted?
A strange sense of superiority ignited in my heart.
"Hehehe…"
Before I realized it, I had drifted into strange thoughts.
I tried to stop my mind from wandering in an odd direction and stored the toy in a bag out of my sight, though of course somewhere safe enough to avoid damaging it.
To preserve energy, I decided to close my eyes for a moment. Although I had learned to "see" in the first person, I was not used to this model, and my mind was already overloaded.
My thoughts were not only slow but erratic. If I were a cellphone, I would probably be running at 15 percent in emergency mode.
If my battery dropped any lower, I would not even be able to maintain my disguise.
My eyes returned to their original shape, losing their brightness and magnification, and my movements became more subdued.
At the same time, I expanded my energy around Doug and Connie.
Thanks to Connie pushing the wheelchair, there was no need to monitor the people or tents around us.
In my mind, only the image of the two of them formed as they talked.
Connie looked at me intently while I kept my eyes closed and gently adjusted the ends of my hair, lightly stroking it.
"Asha looks a little tired, Dad."
"Well, it was a pretty long day after all."
Doug replied, looking at us with a comforting smile. Compared to the serious expression he had worn in the bookstore, his face now showed a stark contrast.
I sighed inwardly in relief.
If, after all this, he still wasted energy dwelling on meaningless misunderstandings, this sacrifice would have been in vain.
After that brief exchange, they both fell silent and continued walking without speaking.
It was rare to see the two of them so quiet. Even when Connie and Doug were not interacting much, their relationship was usually energetic.
But now they were silent, as if both had things weighing on their minds.
Doug was the first to break the silence.
"Was it fun?"
Upon hearing the question, Connie looked at him a little awkwardly. It was not that the question was strange, but it was rare to hear her father speak in such a mature tone.
His voice lacked its usual playfulness and instead carried a calmness expected of someone his age.
"U-Uh, sure. Asha seemed pretty happy with the new book."
"Oh, speaking of that, what kind of book did she buy?"
Doug asked curiously, glancing at the bag Connie was carrying.
Noticing his gaze, Connie carefully took out the book and showed it to him.
"It's a book about sound waves. Asha seemed quite interested in the topic."
"Sound waves?"
Doug looked at me quizzically, then at the book Connie held, and began flipping through it.
A series of technical terms and images appeared, lightly marked with highlighter and sticky notes.
With each graph, his expression grew more complicated.
"C-Connie, can you understand any of this?"
"Uhm… a little bit? Look, this introductory section talks about mechanical waves and how their shape changes depending on the medium they travel through. We learned some of that in school."
"You learned that in school? That's impressive."
Doug praised her with a slightly apologetic smile.
"Well, that's just the basics. Physics books do not usually go into much detail about wave theory. They mostly focus on basic formulas for entrance exams."
"I see. So that's the basics…"
Although Doug did not say much more, his gaze fixed on Connie as she explained the terms one by one grew increasingly unsteady, reflecting his shaken mental state.
I could not help but sympathize with him. Even though my brain functions better now, in my past life, I struggled with even simpler concepts.
Still, despite the unexpected direction of the conversation, the earlier silence had disappeared. Though Doug did not understand everything, he kept listening quietly, occasionally making small comments to show he was paying attention.
"Here, the book talks a little about the effects of refraction in different metals and liquids, as well as interference from objects. Sound can travel across surfaces, but there is still a reduction in its intensity, as shown in this image… Oh, sorry, I talked too much, did not I? I did not mean to ramble."
Connie apologized sheepishly after noticing her own enthusiasm and lowered the book.
Doug smiled at her thoughtfulness and gently ruffled her hair with his left hand.
"What a silly thing to worry about. I could listen to my daughter talk all day. You seemed so interested that, even though I did not understand much, it was pleasant to listen to."
Connie's face flushed shyly at the unusual attention her father was giving her, and she quickly changed the subject.
"Well, it's not like I am particularly interested… It's just that Asha is, so I studied it a little."
She added this almost as if trying to hide her merits out of embarrassment.
"It's still impressive. This is high school level material, at least, is not it? At your age, I was hunting bugs with your great-grandfather."
"Well, hunting bugs is pretty cool too…"
Connie added this as she noticed Doug's melancholy expression.
As if he had expected it, Doug smiled and quickly changed his expression to a brighter one.
"You think so? Maybe I should take you camping in the mountains sometime. What do you think about hunting some bugs with Dad? Of course, only if you have the courage."
As if accepting a challenge, Connie returned a slightly sharp look.
"Is that a challenge?"
"Whoever catches the fewest insects has to fulfill any winner's wish."
"Eh~ Really? Even if it's Dad, I don't plan on taking it easy."
"Then we have a deal."
The two smiled mischievously at each other.
"Don't worry, Dad. If your back gets stuck on the way, I'll give you a hand."
"Humph. Daddy's back here can carry more than three of a little girl like you."
After that exchange of playful arguments, silence gradually returned.
How long had it been since those two had talked alone like this? Neither Connie nor Doug seemed aware of it.
Whenever they met, their conversations were usually short. Doug would not ask her how she was doing. Instead, he would simply smile while Priyanka led the conversation or exchange a few jokes here and there.
From a distance, it looked like a good relationship. In reality, however, there had always been a barrier behind those smiles. A strangely superficial layer rested beneath them, though for a brief moment, it seemed to gently melt away.
But even that momentary peace did not seem to last long.
"Is school fun?"
After that question, Connie was still smiling, but her expression seemed to freeze for a split second. She opened her mouth, and after a brief pause, her voice finally came out.
"Yes, I have good friends at school, and my grades are pretty high. Are you proud?"
I looked at Connie strangely.
Why was her heartbeat so turbulent?
Her pupils dilated, and her body forced itself to simulate the opposite reaction. That might have deceived ordinary eyes, but under Appraisal, even the smallest details would not escape.
Oblivious to that, Doug smiled and stroked Connie's head again.
"As expected of my daughter. Dad's so proud. You can bring your friends home sometime, you know?"
"I'll think about it... By the way, the line for the Ferris wheel seems to have gotten a lot shorter! How about we go there?"
Connie's face twitched for a moment. She quickly pushed my wheelchair forward, leaving Doug slightly behind.
Doug looked at her for a moment, then followed. Her heartbeat was still very fast.
I opened my eyes slightly and looked up at her expression.
She seemed to be biting her lip lightly, her head lowered.
It was as if her entire face was saying, "I'm not happy." It was so obvious that even someone dense like me could notice it.
When our eyes met, Connie quickly forced a smile.
"Sorry to surprise you. We're going on the Ferris wheel now."
With that strained smile, she reassured me and stopped in line.
My eyes remained on her for a long moment.
What had happened at school for her to react like that?
As dense as I could be at times, I was not stupid enough to ignore such clear signs.
I never cared much about school in my past life, so it was never a topic I reflected on deeply.
I did not have much time to worry about studying because of work. But for a kid Connie's age, this must have been a sensitive subject.
There were not many mentions of Connie's school life in the cartoon, since the perspective mostly followed Steven and the Crystal Gems. Still, analyzing the situation was not very difficult.
I had only been with the Maheswarans for a short time, but according to Priyanka, they traveled frequently. That would probably have been an obstacle to making friends for someone shy like Connie.
In my past life, I skipped classes because of work. When I returned, the other kids already knew each other well, and there was little room for someone new to join. My appearance was not the most pleasant either. On top of that, the fact that I slept during classes did not help.
Connie, on the other hand, was a completely different kind of student. A model student. I remembered that kids like her were often sought after for group work or for copying homework.
But considering that Connie's school was quite renowned, perhaps most students there were high achievers. Maybe she was simply seen as average. That was a bit regrettable.
Unfortunately, I had not had a very normal childhood, so it was difficult to empathize fully. I did not really understand how children's minds worked.
Should I teach Connie how to make friends?
Even if it did not seem like it, I had a lot of friends in my past life. Even though most of them were virtual, I still knew a thing or two.
While I was lost in thought, the line shortened until it was our turn.
When had so much time passed? My thoughts were so sluggish that even my sense of time felt distorted.
That was not a good sign, was it?
The lack of energy was affecting my neural system. That was probably dangerous.
Wait, but why was it dangerous? For some reason, I could not remember.
Well, it probably was not important.
When it was our turn, the attendant mentioned that the seating arrangement was for two people. Doug's expression became slightly complicated.
Doug was not exactly the sharpest. What if he thought too much and ended up creating another stupid misunderstanding? That would have been dangerous.
I grabbed Connie's sleeve tightly and pointed at the Ferris wheel.
We needed to run.
"E-Eh... Asha? What happened?"
Was she really asking that? Instead of arguing about who would sit with whom, would it not have been better if we both went at once? Sitting next to Doug felt a little scary, to be honest.
What if he wanted to become my real father and tried to hit me? But he did not seem like that kind of person. He was too dumb for that. Parents were normally scary, but Doug just seemed stupid.
Anyway, I had to take care of Connie. I was an adult after all.
But no matter how much I pulled her, she did not seem to understand. She was so frustrating. Why could she not understand what I was thinking?
It was a shame I could not walk.
Wait, who said I could not walk? I could do anything. I was smart.
Still holding onto Connie, I tried to move my legs. If I imagined Connie as a pink lion, things seemed a bit easier.
But strangely, the moment I tried to stand up, I could not keep my balance, and my body began to fall.
"Oh, be careful!"
Before I fell shamefully to the ground, Connie caught me and supported me in her arms.
Wow, that was scary. I almost fell embarrassingly in front of Doug and all those people.
In the end, people were not lions. I should not have done that again.
I was glad she caught me in time. If she carried me, I did not need to walk. As expected of Connie. She was smart.
I hugged her even tighter to make sure I would not fall again.
Of course, while she was holding me, I pointed at the Ferris wheel.
I could not forget Doug. Even now, his expression looked even more stupid.
Was he jealous because I did not have to walk like him? He was such a petty person.
This carrier was already mine. He should go get one himself.
After I urged Connie, whose face was strangely red, she finally started moving.
"Really, even if it's Asha, this is too much…"
She began complaining unnecessarily, but in the end, she got on the Ferris wheel anyway. If she was going to do it regardless, why complain so much? I could not understand children. Sigh…
As soon as we got on, I relaxed a little. Doug could not think any stupid thoughts if he could not see us.
Connie tried to put me in the next seat, but how could I accept that? What if I fell again? I checked everything around me with Appraisal and confirmed I could not reach the ground. If I fell from this height, I would die.
I hugged her even tighter just to be safe. I used so much force that my body started shaking for some reason.
In the end, Connie was the only one sitting properly in the seat while I clung to her like a koala.
"Uhm… Asha, are you perhaps… scared?"
Scared? Me? Pft… Who did this little girl think I was? It might not seem like it, but I was over twenty years old, and it had been at least three years since I came into this world. I carried the experience of two lifetimes. I had even crossed space.
A mere Ferris wheel could never scare this great Peridot.
I firmly rejected her accusation by shaking my head while hiding in her arms. I could not feel anything in particular, but I did feel better when she held me like that.
"I never imagined that Asha would be afraid of Ferris wheels…" she said while patting my back.
Again, these people were forming strange misunderstandings. I was not going to say anything since she was performing her role as a carrier quite well.
Her hand reached the top of my head and began running gently through my hair, smoothing it down. Her expression softened into something oddly maternal, and for reasons I could not quite explain, it irritated me.
"You know, Asha, I was scared of Ferris wheels before, too. I could barely leave mommy's arms the first time I came here. I even made a scene."
Well, that was expected. I was glad that was not my case.
"But you know, when she held me like this and showed me the view outside, it was so beautiful that I couldn't think about anything except how beautiful the city and the stars were."
Connie lifted me slightly by the armpits and settled me on her lap, wrapping her arms around me from behind and giving me a strange sense of stability.
What was she trying to do by holding me like that? Even if she held me like this, I would not see anything. I needed to preserve energy.
I kept my eyes closed stubbornly. If I wasted more energy, would I not become an idiot? I was a Peridot. I was supposed to be smarter than anyone.
"See, we reached the top. Look at Daddy. He's so small he looks like an ant. The view is as beautiful as ever… It's a shame you can't see it, Asha. But even when you are scared, you're really cute… heheh."
Connie might not have known it, but even with my eyes closed, I could read her lips.
This was infuriating. She thought I was scared just because my eyes were closed?
I opened my eyes wide to prove I was not scared.
"…!"
Suddenly, a breathtaking sight filled my vision.
Lights were scattered everywhere. Why did everything look so small?
Since I had reincarnated, even though I never complained out loud, my height had always bothered me. I was so small. What if people mistook me for a dwarf?
It was unfair that I was always the one looking up during conversations. Even Connie was taller than me.
But at that moment, sitting in Connie's lap, I was not only taller than her.
I was taller than the entire city.
This was how things were supposed to be. Me at the top, and everyone else below.
I stared in awe at the view before me and at the overwhelming sense of superiority rising inside me.
Connie, the one who had given me this view, no longer wore the sad expression from before. She was smiling happily.
Somehow, I felt… indebted.
I had used her as a chair, and she was still smiling. This child was so naive.
Thinking about it, she had been sad earlier because she did not have friends, right?
I had finally come up with a solution.
I took the notebook from Connie's bag and began writing.
[I'll be your friend.]
That was the solution I had devised.
Honestly, helping Connie make friends sounded like a huge hassle. I could not understand how children thought. I was too old for that.
But if I became her friend, then she would not need anyone else, right?
I could not believe I had not thought of something so simple before.
[Don't be sad.]
If she had a friend, she would not be sad. Still, I wrote it down to make it clear.
[It's okay now.]
It might have been redundant, but people in this world required direct statements. Their mental processes always moved in crooked lines. There was no room for ambiguity.
And Connie was smart. She would understand.
Feeling proud of my brilliant idea, I looked up at her again.
Wait.
Why was she suddenly crying?
Tears streamed down her face like an avalanche, to the point that her face became distorted.
Could it be that Doug's illness was contagious? Had Connie also contracted a mental disorder?
What should I do?
Panicking, I grabbed her head and began using Appraisal on her brain.
Connie hugged me tightly and cried into my shoulder. This was dangerous. The symptoms seemed to be worsening.
I stroked her head as she cried, desperately trying to calm her. There was a small risk of mental contamination, but Connie was my responsibility.
And besides, someone as intelligent as me would never become an idiot. Even if I did become one, I would still be ten times, no, ten thousand times smarter than Doug.
I focused my strength on analyzing her brain.
But something strange began to happen.
My form started to destabilize.
That was bad. Very bad.
I did not fully understand why, but Connie absolutely could not see me like this.
I immediately stopped analyzing her brain and reduced my mental activity.
If I lowered my cognitive processes, I could simulate sleep while maintaining basic functions like breathing, heartbeat, skin tone, and gem concealment.
My gem felt energetically unstable. I needed to be careful. Otherwise, I might die.
That was slightly terrifying.
But it should stabilize within twelve hours.
I looked at Connie one last time. Fortunately, she was crying so hard that she could barely see anything.
Sorry. I cannot help you right now.
But when I wake up, I will definitely fix your brain.
With those fading thoughts, I closed my eyes. My skin quickly returned to normal.
I did not know why, but I had a feeling I was going to have a good dream that night.
*
Author's note
This chapter was the first one I completed after taking a break from writing, so it might not be up to the same standard as the others. But hey, how are you? Did you think I'd disappeared?
I've been accumulating a few more chapters on Patreon and restructuring my writing routine this whole time, but we're finally getting back into full swing. Chapters every 4 days here, and you can see the next 3 already on Patreon.
I'm updating Patreon daily and will be focused there for now, but I'll check the comments here every 4 days and reply to everyone!
A cookie for you 🍪
*
Daily parts and 3 more chapters on Patreon (100% Free ❤️) => patreon.com/frowfy