In the corridor's corner of the Goldleaf Suite, Remilia Scarlet pressed herself against the wall, her eyes filled with amusement as she eavesdropped on the scene within.
"Who is that, Onee-sama?"
Remilia glanced back. Her sister stood there, clutching her teddy bear, crystalline wings catching the light. Her expression was innocent curiosity.
"What are you doing here, Flandre?" Remilia kept her voice low. "Didn't I tell you not to come up right now?" She took her sister's hand, gently guiding her back toward the stairwell. "We have a volatile guest at the moment. He's dangerous. But we are doing our part to contain him."
Flandre pouted. "You're always like this, Onee-sama..." She dragged her feet, a small protest. "I wanna see him. I wanna play with him."
Remilia paused, her gaze toward the hall they were at, then back to her sister. "No. Not right now." She resumed walking, her voice softening. "I know you're curious. But I'm keeping you away from him for now. I sensed something... really wrong from him earlier in his presence. Now it's gone." A rare flicker of unease crossed her face. "My senses are playing with me."
She looked ahead as they walked. "We'll see about what we can do with him, for now." She squeezed Flandre's hand. "Then you can have your turn. Soon."
Flandre's pout vanished, replaced by a delighted smile. "Okay!"
They disappeared into the mansion's depths, leaving the corridor empty save for the muffled sound of Sakuya's voice about the house rules on the other side of the hall.
Meanwhile, Sakuya's hand is still on the doorknob. For a moment, she was a statue, her expression a flawless mask. But her thoughts were;
'Ugh… A guest with terrible manners. This is the hired guest I'm going to deal with for the rest of his stay is it? …Calm down, Sakuya, calm down. No need to reach for the knife for this one particular guest.'
"Noted," she said finally.
"I will inform… Remilia of your… custom." She emphasized the naming, trying to highlight its unfamiliarity.
"However, be aware that your definition of 'respect' may not be universally shared among us. Your stay will be smoother if you observe the customs of the house you are residing in." She opened the door with a precise click.
Nowa didn't immediately cross the threshold. He stood still.
'I tried. Welp, it doesn't hurt to pissed off this woman. For now, I'll tag along.'
"Understood,"
he said, and finally moved into the room. He paused, glancing back with a dry smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "And chillax. I don't butcher someone's authority in front of others."
His gaze then sharpened. "Oh, and I need my rune pouch. Be it now or later, it makes no difference to me. As for the revolver, your 'miss rune lover' can use it for her research. That is, if she can decipher it."
Sakuya gave a single, curt nod. "Very well. I will report this to Lady Remilia first." As she began to close the door. "And do not cause trouble. We run on order here." The door shut with a silent click.
The moment the latch was closed, the tension from Nowa's shoulders left a bone-deep weariness. A sigh, heavy, escaped him. He stretched an arm up, then raised his middle finger with it.
"Fuck you, Fuck them, Fuck all of you."
Before slammed himself onto the waiting bed. The impact was swallowed by the plush mattress. He grabbed a handful of the bedsheet, bringing it to his face.
"It's soft…" he muttered into the fabric. He inhaled. "And it smells… good, I guess." He let the sheet fall, shifting to lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling.
"...Fuck you author. Why did you make Amy look like her at all… Why can't you or the multiverse just make a unique person, not copy and paste it with different functions."
His eyes grew heavy, hitting his exhaustion of the day. "I guess I need to sleep. I don't care if there's a knife in my throat. They can kill me anytime. At least it would free me from this miserable fucking life."
With that dark lullaby, he closed his eyes and drifted to nap.
Meanwhile, in Remilia's studyroom, Sakuya entered and upon seeing her mistress, let a soft smile touch her lips then offered a precise bow, before it vanished to deliver the news.
"Lady Remilia, he has agreed to the house rules. However, Mr. Beckitzer has stated he will use given names exclusively. What is your take, Milady?"
A soft, melodious laugh escaped Remilia. She took a sip from her teacup. "Let him be. His defiance is the most interesting thing to happen in this mansion for centuries." She swirled the dark liquid in her cup. "And since he has mistaken you for someone dear to him, you are now tasked with uncovering his history. I wish to know how his story began."
Sakuya bowed again. "Yes, Milady. I will now inform Lady Patchouli that he requires his rune pouch."
"Very well, you may go now." Remilia dismissed her, already turning to gaze out the window where the daylight sky was. Sakuya offered one final bow and exited the study, leaving her mistress to plot amidst the sun.
Hours later, a low groan from his stomach stirred Nowa from his slumber. Groggy, he patted his abdomen, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping his lips.
"Heh. Can't even sleep on an empty stomach. I missed a lunch time, I guess."
He pushed himself up. Staring at the door for a moment, before he walked to the room's small table.
"Can't be bothered to call for a servant nor go to her kitchen to cook for myself, plus it's a pain in my ass. I will just get lost on the way anyway. I'll just conjure mine."
He aimed his palm at the polished wooden surface. "One pepperoni pizza and a Coca-Cola, coming right up." A faint, shimmering distortion twisted the air above the table. The 50ms Author obeyed its master's whim. With a soft pop of displaced air, a cardboard box materialized, its warmth and aroma instantly filling the room, alongside a cold, condensation-beaded plastic bottle.
His hand briefly paled, the vitality draining from his flesh. He simply shook it off, the familiar cost of inconvenience. Slumping into a chair, he opened the box, the sight of the perfectly manifested pizza bringing a cynical smirk to his face.
"Party for no one in particular,"
he muttered to the empty room, lifting a cheesy slice.
A crisp knock at the door shattered the quiet. He sighed, the slice hovering before his lips.
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal Sakuya, holding a tray of delicate, fancy bread rolls, a tea pot and a portion of potato salad. Her sharp eyes immediately scanned the room, locking onto the foreign cardboard box and the dark liquid in the bottle. She stopped dead, her posture rigid.
"What is that, Mr. Beckitzer?"
Nowa glanced between his pizza and her tray. "Uh… Well, this is awkward," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "This is a pizza. And this," he lifted the cola bottle, "is a soda drink."
"Pizza? Soda drink?" she repeated, it's alien to her.
Nowa let out another dry chuckle. "Right, right. Fantasy setting, how could I forget that." He gestured with the bottle. "A 'Tingle-Drink.' Very bubbly, tingles in your mouth with a healthy ton of sugar."
"...What?" Sakuya responded.
He smirked at her response, then placed the bottle and his slice back in the box then lifted the entire box towards her. "This is pizza. It's a... Dough-omato-meat-Cheese Disc. Comes in many flavors. Wanna try?"
"...I don't get the naming of it." before she stepped fully into the room, her gaze shifting from the food to his face, her expression unreadable. "And what did I tell you about Rule Six: 'You will make every effort to contain the side effects of your abilities. Reality-altering events within the mansion will be considered a breach of hospitality'?"
Nowa made a look of face at her, then a show of slowly sweeping his gaze across every corner of the room. "Huh. I don't see any 'event' other than my enemy being my stomach."
Sakuya let out a faint, almost imperceptible sigh, a subtle roll of her eyes acknowledging his point. With practiced grace, she placed the tray of food on the table beside his conjured feast.
Her sharp eyes, however, did not miss the detail. The pale of his hand, the slight tremor as he'd picked up the pizza slice.
"Don't you think you're being wasteful with your power?" she asked, her voice lower now. "Using such an ability for... mundane things?"
Nowa scratched his head, his eyes averting her piercing gaze. "I've been using this since I received this god-forsaken ability five years ago," he muttered to the tabletop.
"I'm used to it."
"Five years? Don't you realize you're slowly killing yourself?"
Nowa lowered his hand with the pizza slice, the casual pretense falling away. He was silent for a long moment. He finally met her gaze.
"Who cares anyway?"
He then deliberately shifted his attention to the tray of food.
"This for me, or are you joining in?"
Sakuya held her gaze on him, analyzing the defensive shift. "It is for you," she confirmed. "It is both my gratitude for the jacket that saved my life, and for the healing. It is my duty to repay such a debt."
Nowa glanced to the side, momentarily taken aback by the blunt acknowledgment. He scoffed quietly, a sound devoid of true mockery. He then raised back up his slice of pizza and took a deliberate bite.
"Well, if you're going to hover around here like a ghost," he said around the mouthful, gesturing vaguely to the empty chair with his free hand. "What are you waiting for? You can join me if you want. Or not, it's up to you."
"I have duties to attend to shortly, but I can spare a few moments." Sakuya sat firmly on the opposite chair, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She made no move to take a slice of pizza.
Nowa glanced at her, then at the untouched box. He swallowed his current bite. "It's safe. You can take one if you want. You might like the... flavor profile."
He pushed the cardboard box an inch closer to her. He then took the Coca-Cola, twisted the cap with a sharp crack-hiss, and took a long sip directly from the bottle.
Sakuya's eyes tracked the movement with polite disbelief. "...You are drinking from that itself?"
Nowa lowered the bottle, giving her a look of ಠ_ಠ. "...Seriously?"
"What?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.
"...Nothing, nothing," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I just find it funny is all." He then reached with his bare hand for the elegant bread roll on her tray.
Smack.
Sakuya's hand moved in a blur, intercepting his before his fingers could make contact. Nowa retracted his hand, giving her another look of profound disapproval.
"What is it now?"
"Etiquette, Mr. Beckitzer," she stated, her voice leaving no room for argument. She gestured to the fine silver fork in the tray. "Use the utensil."
'...Okay what in the actual fuck woman? You're joking with me right? Bruh… well then let's fight fire with comically stupid fire.'
Nowa's expression shifted to one of mock, wide-eyed shock.
"I see now," he intoned with exaggerated gravity. He picked up the fork with the edge of his fingertips, holding it up as if examining a sacred relic. In a whisper that was deliberately loud enough for her to hear, he addressed the utensil:
"Oh my dear fork, you shall be confused for a second. I must musterrrr the court of etikuette in the presence of the Time-Keeper, with a drrrrazzling new approach." Echoed in the room as he was taught slowly but surely of her world.