Here's what went down at the takoyaki stall—and believe me, it was nothing short of a glitch in reality.
The market buzzed with noise, smoke, and the smell of octopus balls on the grill. But no one was looking at the food anymore. Every eye was on us—on the ripple of chaos that exploded the second emotions flared and fate decided to throw hands.
Alepou, the fox-tailed legend, wasn't herself. Her movements were sharp, panicked—not out of fear, but guilt. Her gaze darted across the crowd, pupils dilated like she'd just watched something break that couldn't be undone.
The old man she was about to punish—the one who dared to lay hands on me earlier—was on the ground now. Not from her attack, though. The punch? It was supposed to stop midway. Alepou saw him for what he was: a human. A civilian. She'd decided, in that split second, not to escalate.
But then—someone shoved her. Or something did.
It wasn't her intention.
Her arm jerked forward. The old man stumbled. And instead of a confrontation, he ended up crashing chest-first into her.
That's what did it.
He collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
The crowd gasped. Whispers surged through the air like wildfire. From the outside, it looked like Alepou took him down on purpose.
But I saw everything.
And the look on her face? It wasn't rage. It wasn't triumph. It was devastation.
Frozen mid-step. Shoulders trembling. Like she'd been possessed by some memory she couldn't shake.
Meanwhile, I sat at the table—eating takoyaki, or at least pretending to. The food didn't even taste right anymore. My hands were shaking, chopsticks barely steady. The warmth in my mouth couldn't hide the cold crawl of dread inside me.
My face… must've looked like I'd just returned from death. Not literally, but that hollow-eyed, blank-stared expression that said, "I've seen something I wasn't supposed to survive."
Then the air got colder.
Prince Gabrielle burst onto the scene, obsidian shards of his broken sword still littering the ground behind him. His breathing was uneven, and his pride shattered along with that weapon.
He pointed at me—eyes burning with a mix of confusion and accusation.
"You!" he shouted. "Who are you? What the hell is happening here?!"
I didn't answer. I just kept chewing, not even tasting the food. Takoyaki turned to ash on my tongue. My body moved on instinct, but my mind was elsewhere—lost in that sickening moment where Alepou's expression broke.
The Prince stomped closer, demanding answers. "Speak! Are you connected to her? What are you hiding?!"
I swallowed hard, the crunch echoing in my ears like glass breaking. The weight of everything—Alepou's guilt, the misunderstanding, the crowd's judgment—was pressing down so hard I couldn't breathe.
Finally, I raised my gaze. Met his.
My voice came out flat, empty, distant.
"None of your business."
The Prince blinked, stunned.
And just like that, silence swallowed the market again.
Nobody dared to move. Nobody wanted to be the one to break whatever invisible thread was holding this fragile moment together.
Alepou slowly turned toward me. Her fists clenched. Her breathing shallow. But her eyes… her eyes were pleading. Not with the crowd.
With me.
She wanted to say she was sorry. That she didn't mean for this to happen. That someone—or something—had interfered. But right now, words were failing her.
So I nodded. Slight. Almost imperceptible.
It was enough.
The tension in the air didn't go away. But the storm had paused—for now.
One bite of takoyaki. One breath. One truth buried under a thousand misunderstandings.
And still, no one had figured out who pushed her.
To be continued…