I looked towards the papers, feeling a mixture of emotions. I currently have retained a lot of information, mostly information regarding the blood moon and the Apocalypse pathway. Turning back to Carter, I leaned back in my chair and asked him a question.
"Someone said the blood moon is in a few days, what do you know about it?"
Upon hearing my question, I saw Carter visibly choke on his morning coffee, his face turning slightly pale. He swallowed his bitter beverage and choked. "Where did you hear of that?"
"Someone on the streets told me, a vendor who sold...a special drink."
"The horse-urine man?" Carter's expression didn't change, it seemed to bring some sort of inexplicable fear.
I nodded my head. "He told me it's like some big night where everyone celebrates." I refrained from sharing the knowledge I had gained from the cloaked figure in the tent, as Carter would most likely gain suspicions as to where I had acquired such information.
"It's deeper than that." Carter's voice lowered slightly, and he scanned the people at the table as if looking for something.
"The blood moon is what we'd call the Night of the Haunted. As for why...I'll share that later." Carter looked back, staring out the window and into the streets for a few moments before sighing.
"I'll be out with Aaron and Oboro for the day, if Isaiah stops by here, he's just here to pick a few things up from my room. See y'all later!" the man stood up, waving us goodbye as he stepped out the door.
Due to the depletion of my spirituality, my tiredness rendered me mostly unable to scour for a source of employment. With a sigh I grabbed one of the papers and ascended to the second floor, before closing the door behind me. The figure in the tent had given me advice in regards to how to properly engage with cogitation, meditation and reflection.
For cogitation, I simply needed to do any healthy activities that would distract my mind. If I could scour for a job, perhaps my spirituality would gradually increase. On the other hand, sleeping would both help me digest my potion and assist in spirituality accumulation. After a few moments of deliberation, I decided on sleeping, and afterwards, looking for a job.
After closing the curtains and filtering out the sunlight, I approached my bed and lied down, attempting to get comfortable atop the firm mattress. As I closed my eyes, numerous illusory, blurry, and incomprehensible blobs of light danced around, taking numerous weird shapes and forms that I couldn't decipher.
Is this a side effect?
I rolled over in my bed, facing the door granting entry in the room. Outside I heard nothing except the usual clamor of the city. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel my mind wander. To home.
It had been an unknown amount of time back where we all came from. My mother is probably so worried about me, while my father most likely didn't care about my sudden disappearance. On the contrary, every other person in my life that seemed to care for me—except Garry, had accidentally accompanied me here.
I rolled over again, falling victim to restlessness as my gaze darted to the ceiling of the apartment complex. The paint was chipping, and the electrical ceiling fan quietly spun above me, giving me a tiny breeze of air. Even if it was cold outside, it was smoldering within the apartment room.
I must have been staring at the ceiling, unblinking, for about twenty minutes before a knock roused me from this almost hypnotic daze. I quickly stood up from my bed, approaching the door and opening it. I saw Shinso, clad in classical attire, standing at the door. His arms were crossed over his chest as he slowly let out a long sigh.
"My digestion isn't going very well." He grumbled, stumbling into the room, then darting into the bathroom. Shortly after, I heard the wet, squeamish sounds of him vomiting. The bowl that Catherine had supplied was sitting on the table near Shinso's bed. I had refrained from peering inside, for the smell of the bowl was enough to make my stomach twist into a tight knot.
Letting out a low sigh, I deliberated on whether I should assist Shinso or if he was independent enough to walk to bed following a violent session of constant regurgitation. After a brief moment of careful deliberation, and recalling his condition—how I had to carry him out of Aaron's establishment, I figure I'd assist him one way or another.
I opened the bathroom door, peering inside to look at Shinso. The indigo-haired boy was bent over, coughing and gagging violently as he continued to spill the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. Looking at him, I felt a surge of pity.
Taking a few steps forward, I approached Shinso and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let it all out."
Shinso continued to cough and gag, puking more and more as I continued to reassure him. After about a minute, he looked back at me with the foul liquid running down his chin. His eyes were slightly glossed and half-lidded, and his lips were parted slightly.
"T-thank you...unfortunately, I can't walk much..." He grumbled, swaying slightly on his knees. He looked at me with a slightly pleading expression. Seeing this, I felt an uncontrollable surge of blush wash over my expression. I quickly took a deep and shaky breath before returning my gaze to Shinso.
"I guess I'll have to carry you then." I sputtered out, my breath sticking to my throat as I carefully wrapped my arms around Shinso's back, before—with the rest of my energy—lifting him in my arms. He let out a low groan, his arms wrapping around my shoulder as I slowly approached his bed. Suddenly, my vision began to blur slightly as I stumbled a bit.
"Huh?" Shinso's brows furrowed in confusion and concern as he gazed up at me. I looked down at the other boy in my arms and gave him a small, weakened smile.
"I'm fine...just tired."
Shinso's brows furrowed when he heard my reply. "Then get some rest, you might pass out at this rate."
I nodded weakly, finally reaching Shinso's bed after what seemed like hours, laying the boy down on the sheets and sighing softly. "We're...here." My vision blurred even more, and the Blood-Moon Charm didn't activate. Before I knew it, I ended up collapsing in Shinso's bed beside the boy.
Shinso remained still, his gaze fixated on my now unconscious form. After a few seconds of silence he looked towards my bed in the other corner of the room. He then took a deep sigh and leaned back against the pillows.
"I wish I could move, damn it." Shinso hesitantly reached across the bed, grabbing my unconscious form and pulling me closer to him. My warm skin pressed against his pale skin, and Shinso couldn't help but blush faintly from the sight. The darkness of the room, accompanied by my soft breathing, slowly lulled him into a deep slumber.
...
After cleaning up the afternoon tea, Ayumi stood back from the small, circular table and admired her handiwork. She had dug through the supply closets near the back of the lobby and had discovered a stack of folded, much neater looking tablecloths. This one had a plaid color of black and red, a contrast to the regular, boring white that usually dawned the table.
Just then, she heard some clatter behind her. When she turned her head to investigate, she caught sight of a small figure carrying a stack of messy plates and bowls down the hallway, and into the kitchen area behind the lobby. It was the same servant she had seen before!
She had initially wanted to conduct an employment search, but seeing the briefly familiar face struck her. Feeling a tinge of curiosity, Ayumi held her breath and walked forward, following the servant into the kitchen.
When Ayumi stepped into the kitchen, she noticed the interior of the kitchen was rustic, almost giving a subtle homey vibe. The counters were made of polished wood, and a gas lamp overhead gave the environment enough lighting to get work done. The stove was ignited, with numerous pots of food boiling on it.
The male servant with greasy brown hair was at the large, industrial sized sink that stretched across the room, scrubbing vigorously away at a plate which had the remnants of a steak dinner. His brows were furrowed, and his face was deathly pale, bringing with it some sort of inscrutable desperation. He suddenly looked towards Ayumi, his eyes widening slightly.
The short boy took a step back, dropping the plate into the sink and covering his face. "Don't look at me!"
Ayumi watched the reaction, and she slowly let out a long sigh. "Need some help?"
The girl glanced towards the sink, which was filled to the brim with dirty dishes, rags, and other items. The short boy's body tensed, and his fists clenched around his face. "N-no!"
"It looks like a lot though." The black-haired girl strode over to the large sink, peering inside at the contents. With a small smile, she reached beside the sink and put on a pair of gloves, before picking up one of the plates from the stack he had previously carried away.
"I'm helping you anyways." Ayumi looked at the male servant, her lips curling up a little higher.
"S-stop! He'll punish me for interference!" He stepped back again; his entire body trembling now. Ayumi immediately made a guess.
"Your boss? What's he gonna do? I have powers." Ayumi cocked an eyebrow; her face playing smugly as she turned back to the plate, using a nearby sponge to scrub away at the grease and grime.
"What?..." His brown eyes widened—his lips parted slightly as if wanting to speak. The brown-haired boy remained silent for a few seconds, watching Ayumi begin cleaning.
"Powers?" He asked, his voice a low whisper. "Like...you're a Seeker?"
"A what?" Ayumi turned back to the boy, cocking an eyebrow.
"Nothing!" The boy immediately shrank back, retreating to a corner and huddling away. "He'll only punish me more if I tell you."
Ayumi looked at the boy briefly, her expression softening slightly. "Well, it seems like your boss doesn't like you talking much, huh."
She carefully contemplated her next words, before speaking. "Would it hurt to tell me your name?"
The boy slowly turned around, a small glint in his eyes surfaced as they widened slightly. "Wilfred."
Hearing his name, Ayumi's smile widened. "Wilfred, I like that name."
The boy's face quickly flushed, and he turned back around and planted his head against the wall. "T-thanks...my boss gave me it."
Hearing this, Ayumi was slightly stunned. "Your boss named you? What about your parents?"
"Parents? What's that?" Wilfred turned around, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked at Ayumi with a cautious expression.
"You...weren't raised by your parents?" Ayumi felt her heart constrict in her chest. Wilfred's expression remained vulnerable, and he exhaled.
"Boss raised me...all my life."
"So, your boss is like your parent? You've lived in this apartment complex all your life?" Ayumi looked around the kitchen, feeling her blood simmer at the thought of having to live here all of your life.
"No, boss takes me home after the day is over. I live at bosses house." Wilfred explained, looking up at Ayumi.
"He says I'm fourteen years old, and he found me in the streets rotting away."
"That's...awful." Ayumi couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy and tiny respect for the boss she had initially perceived as cold and harsh . Wilfred's boss had taken him into his home?
"No...boss gives me stuff, he gives me food, water, clothing, sleep. I like my boss, but he doesn't like me talking with others."
"Do you remember your childhood before?" Ayumi cocked her head.
Wilfred arched an eyebrow, feeling a wave of confusion. "What's a childhood?"