Author's Note:
A funny thing that happened to me.
I saw a YouTube video of Jackie Chan dressed as Chun-Li.
So I searched the internet and discovered the 1993 movie City Hunter, where Jackie Chan ends up "cosplaying" as Street Fighter II characters due to a bizarre hallucination caused by an electric shock.
This convinced me to go to the cinema and watch the Street Fighter (2026) movie. I was supposed to go with my brother, but I ended up going alone.
I can say it is a very enjoyable movie; I give it an 8 hands down, and a 10 for the fanservice.
I am not a leg fetishist, but Callina Liang as Chun-Li managed to bewitch me.
P.S. Here is a lesson in "life" or "economics" from yours truly. My mother had always scolded me every time I bent down on the street to pick up a coin, but I did it anyway.
Coins accumulate over time, you forget about them, but they accumulate; not enough to change your life, but you can buy yourself a little treat with them.
For example, I recently bought the latest Dune book for €85, but I paid half the price using coins found at the bottom of my sock drawer. The saleswoman was struck dumb seeing me pull out a bag full of coins.
XXX
Story Arc: Out-of-Town Visitors
Episode 4: Dinners, Entertainment, and Cafés (II)
Chapter 14: Carnivorous Woman and Herbivorous Man
Plot: Welt Blight has been kissed and bitten by Dr. Origami. He misunderstands things, but he offers her a nice evening.
XXX
POV Narrator
Once inside the house, Welt went straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and standing in front of the sink. The room, with its blue walls and modern furnishings, was in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the faint reflected light hanging above the mirror. Welt leaned forward, resting his hands firmly on the cold edge of the white ceramic sink.
Observing his reflection, he noticed that the "wound" on his lip had already healed. Rolling up his sleeves, Lola's bruises had also disappeared, though the latter had been gone for a long time. The surface of the glass reflected completely smooth and regenerated skin, free of scratches, cuts, or muscle pressure marks.
Aside from the confused emotions he was feeling at the moment, Welt had also fled to hide his healing factor. Perhaps this wouldn't be a decisive factor in revealing that he was Black Warlock, but it would certainly make his life more complicated.
It was no secret that almost all Powered individuals ended up getting involved in the world of heroes and villains, or being targeted by malicious organizations.
Since he was standing in front of the sink, Welt decided to wash his face with cold water; he needed it. He turned the steel faucet on to the maximum, letting the freezing stream run. He cupped the water in his palms and repeatedly splashed his face with force to drive away the tiredness.
"Master, you amazed me today," Sora said in an amused tone from the small pocket of the fabric case hanging around his neck.
Welt took a white terrycloth towel to dry his face, wiping it over his wet skin with slow movements, then replied, "I don't think I have anything special, except for the collaboration with Spider-Man. The rest was just Black Warlock's usual routine."
"I wasn't referring to your heroics, but to the fact that you've become a high-level playboy," Sora said in an amused tone, making the shell of the disguised phone quiver imperceptibly.
"I am not a playboy," Welt said, putting the towel back on the metal rack and adjusting his glasses on his nose, not being in the mood for jokes.
"In the morning you seduced Lola—she was literally about to fall into your arms—then you charmed her family. I'm sure if you knock on her door tomorrow with a wedding ring, she will say yes and you'll have their blessing," Sora recounted the first fact to support her thesis.
"Lola wasn't feeling well in the morning, a drop in blood sugar, so I bought her breakfast. Then, once at her place, we did some training, had fun in the pool, and finally, I met her parents. Good people: eccentric, but nice," Welt said, having a completely different idea of how things were going as he thought back to the lunch and the large pool at the Manor.
"You saved the day by helping Spider-Man, and you stole the heart of a journalist you find cute," Sora said like an older sister who wants to embarrass her little brother.
"Charlotte Gagnepetit is a Black Warlock fangirl; Welt Blight is a little fan of Charlotte Gagnepetit. That's all, nothing will happen. Black Warlock will remain a single hero, and Welt won't hit on Charlotte," Welt/Warlock said, not wanting to hit on the journalist under any of his faces or names.
"Now, in the late afternoon or early evening, you drove Origami crazy!" Sora declared, pulling out the heavy artillery.
"That's not something to be proud of," Welt exclaimed, running his fingers over his clothes and looking a little ashamed as he remembered the sudden, rough kiss he had received near the metal 3D printer.
"Why didn't you stay in the lab with Origami? I'm sure you could have had some fun. We both agree that Origami is an attractive woman," Sora said, knowing how beautiful her Master considered a woman to be.
Welt blushed. Emotionally he was blind, biologically he was a bit nearsighted, but he clearly saw that Origami was a beautiful woman, and sometimes certain thoughts crossed his mind, but he tried to throw them away as soon as they appeared.
'I am a man of principle; I will not take advantage of a woman who is not fully lucid. Whether it's because of alcohol, grief, or trauma, I won't touch her with a ten-foot pole,' Welt thought, facing the mirror firmly, having been raised well.
"That's just like you, Master, you are a good person," Sora said, as she could say many things about her Master, some embarrassing, but mainly good things.
"I'm just an idiot with too much free time, an above-average empathy, and an abnormal sense of fun," Welt provided a description of how he saw himself.
"That's also true," Sora commented, smiling with amusement inside.
"Thanks for the unconditional support, Sora," Welt said dryly; he would have preferred some real support in that moment of isolation.
"But I'm not sure Origami can be considered traumatized or confused," Sora said, returning to the hot topic.
"Origami is a brilliant woman, with nerves of steel and an iron stomach to do her job, but risking falling from the second floor of a building and becoming a gruesome puddle is not her norm. She works in forensics, not in the field. People are not fully lucid after such a shock or stress," Welt said, moving away from the sink and expressing his view on the situation.
"Give me an example," Sora said, wanting to understand what her Master was thinking.
"In iCarly, when Freddie saved Carly from being hit by a taco truck... out of gratitude and admiration, Carly develops a massive crush on him," Welt replied, pulling out the first television example that came to his mind from his memories of pastimes.
"Origami doesn't know that Warlock and Welt are the same person," Sora said, highlighting a hole in the logic she had noticed.
"Listen to me carefully: when a person experiences a traumatic event or escapes a grave danger, their mind and body undergo an intense shock that can radically alter how they perceive relationships. A trauma instantly destroys a person's sense of security, making them feel fragile and exposed. Throwing oneself into the arms of a trusted friend, who represents a safe harbor at that moment, is an instinctive defense mechanism. In that state of extreme vulnerability, emotional barriers break down, allowing one to see that friend in a completely new, intimate, and profound light," Welt provided an accurate and complex response, as if it had come straight out of a psychology textbook.
"Sometimes being too smart is a disadvantage," Sora commented, firmly convinced that her Master was overthinking things instead of accepting the physical reality of impulses.
Welt placed a finger near his lip and drew a small circle with a movement of his finger, creating a small illusion of a wounded lip that had been treated. A faint blue shiver passed over his skin for a microsecond, camouflaging the healing from the scientist's eyes.
"I need to get back to Origami, prepare a lasagna, put it in the oven, and then I'll see how this evening turns out," Welt said, reaching out his arm to pop the lock before stepping out of the bathroom.
'It will be fun to see how it turns out,' Sora thought, flying invisibly beside him in the hallway. In some ways, Welt's civilian life was more interesting than Warlock's life in the field.
XXX
Origami was standing in Welt's living room. She had placed the bag with the LEGOs on the coffee table, then she pulled out her smartphone and began taking pictures of the room, so she could review them later and learn the details she hadn't noticed. The room was arranged in an orderly fashion, with a soft electric-blue carpet on the floor and warm lights hanging from the ceiling. Origami moved the lens with millimeter precision along the walls and furniture, capturing every nuance. Her work in forensics made it easy for her to understand certain things, allowing her to analyze an entire environment at a glance.
Hearing the sound of a door opening, Origami put her smartphone away into the deep pocket of her lab coat and walked over to the bookshelf filled with video games, stepping close to the dark wood shelf.
'This is a side of Welt I was unaware of. I knew that as a bookstore owner and a comic book writer he was passionate about the cultural and creative industries. But not that he was a high-level, long-time gamer,' Origami thought, seeing cases ranging from the PS2 to the PS5, with cases from other types of consoles arranged in perfectly aligned rows.
She reached out her healthy right hand toward a shelf, brushing against a row of small plastic models. 'I don't know much about video games, but I think this purple dragon is Spyro,' Origami thought, grabbing the Skylanders figurine of the famous video game dragon.
"What are you doing, Origami?" Welt asked, having just entered the living room after crossing the threshold.
"I'm looking at your video game collection; I didn't know you were a fan," Origami said, turning her head and looking at Welt, trying to understand how he felt and analyzing his facial features.
Welt quietly approached his white-haired guest, moving without hesitation across the carpet until he was just a few centimeters away from her.
'He doesn't seem angry or scared, very well,' Origami thought, feeling an invisible weight lift from her heart and relaxing her shoulder posture.
"Do you like Spyro? He was the first Skylander I used, but among the dragons, I prefer Cynder: she is aesthetically cute and makes a great team with Spyro," Welt said. He reached his arm toward the top shelf, picking up the figurine of a lilac female dragon, and held it close to the one in Origami's hand, making the plastic wings of the two small dragons almost touch.
'So this is how police officers feel when I start talking about science,' Origami thought, looking at Welt's hands and beginning to understand what it feels like to understand nothing about an article that another person knows perfectly well.
"They're cute," Origami commented, focusing on the moment and slightly squeezing the base of the miniature. She was holding a figurine of a male dragon, Welt beside her was holding a figurine of a female dragon; perhaps... sparks could appear between them in the still air of the living room.
(Author's Note: Humor has never been my strong suit, but I try).
"Skylanders became popular for their cute appearance and massive variety. Collecting all 175 characters—603 if you count every single official physical figurine ever released on the market—is an ambition for many fans," Welt said, taking the Spyro figurine from Origami's hands. The piece of rigid plastic brushed against the girl's fingers before the bookseller gripped Spyro in his hand.
"175 is a large number. I see 46 figurines; the collection is 26.3% complete," Origami said, doing the math. Her blue eyes moved rapidly along the three shelves of the bookcase, scanning and grouping the shapes with the precision of a forensic computer.
"I only got the 32 original heroes divided into the 8 classic elements, the first 8 iconic Giants from the second game, and 16 Skylanders with interchangeable parts from the third game—more than enough for me," Welt explained, not so into an old video game to buy the rest of the 129 missing Skylanders, but enough to have a nice stock. With his fingers, he brushed the circular base of one of the miniatures, straightening it into a straight line.
"I'm not an expert on this franchise; could you tell me more?" Origami asked, wanting to know more about Welt and his hobbies. She shifted her body weight slightly onto her center of gravity, crossing her hands in front of her waist and staring at him motionlessly.
The bookseller made a slight grimace, seeing that the elephant in the room was being ignored. His eyes sought the light-colored tiles of the hallway for a moment before returning to his guest.
"Origami, I would love to talk to you and add video games to our conversation topics at breakfast, lunch, or dinner, but I think we first need to resolve an unfinished matter," Welt said, wanting to get the hard part over with first, straightening his back slightly to give himself a serious demeanor so he could then dedicate himself to pleasant things.
"Are you talking about what happened in your lab?" Origami asked, maintaining a stoic expression and a cold tone of voice; despite this, her heart rate accelerated. Inside her chest, her heart rate spiked sharply, tightening the fabric of her lab coat.
Ironic: every day she saw crime scenes, even gruesome corpses, and she had no problem examining them closely; her entire being remained perfectly calm, like the surface of an unruffled lake.
But when Welt showed up and moved into her close space, it was as if a stone—no, a boulder, no, a meteorite—struck the surface of the lake with kinetic force.
In short, corpses and danger did not shake Origami, but Welt managed to do so with his mere presence, and the idea of him rejecting her kept her hands and nerves on edge like nothing else in the room.
"I understand what happened," the bookseller said, keeping his arms crossed and remaining firm on the blue carpet, having no idea how wrong he was.
"You understand?" Origami asked, placing a hand over her heart, pressing her palm against her sternum as if this could stop her heart from exploding with anxiety.
'No, no, no. This is not part of the plan. I chose a slow but steady approach: making him fall in love with me a little bit every day, so that, when everything is perfect, I will confess to him, we will kiss, we will become one, I will have a baby in my womb, and we will get married before the pregnancy shows in the wedding dress,' Origami thought, her spine suddenly stiffening as she reviewed her very own plan.
"You've had a stressful day, you suffered a shock, some would say a trauma," Welt said, wanting to speak calmly and lowering his tone slightly to soothe her.
Origami's heart began to slow down, her muscles relaxed, and her mind cleared; she gave Welt a small nod to keep talking.
"I like to believe there is an understanding between the two of us," Welt said, blushing a little, a faint red tint beginning to flush his cheeks, but he maintained his composure and the stability of the glasses on his nose.
"Yes, there is definitely an understanding between us," Origami said, taking a step forward on the carpet and drastically closing the distance between them, believing that perhaps her plan was accelerating from the initial phase to the final phase at that very second.
"Maybe it's childish to call us close friends, maybe you prefer fellow scientists, or something more poetic like two kindred spirits with a common purpose," Welt said, not wanting to put a label on his relationship with Origami as he nervously fiddled with the hem of his hoodie.
"I prefer the sound of two kindred spirits," Origami said; her lips moved by a millimeter, forming a tenth of a shy smile on her pale face.
"You are a woman, I am a man, we have a close and beautiful relationship, a unique combination of friendship and intellectual collaboration. But despite everything, we are slaves to biology," Welt said, trying to make his point and moving his free hand to emphasize his words.
Origami maintained a poker face, but the corners of her lips turned down and her eyebrows shot up: confusion was the only emotion she felt in that millisecond.
"Because of what happened today, your brain is currently flooded with hormones. Basic instincts light up, it's a biological response. That's why you kissed me like that, out of pure impulse. I understand, and I don't blame you for it," Welt concluded, facing her directly once more.
'I'm not the only one who is inexperienced in a subject,' Origami thought, her gaze fixed on the bookseller's shoes as she analyzed his words.
'Welt didn't understand the reason behind my kiss, but he isn't entirely wrong. If I hadn't had such a difficult day, I definitely wouldn't have kissed him in such a direct and aggressive way. Better to agree with him,' Origami thought, deciding to play Welt's conclusion to her advantage and making an imperceptible shrug of her shoulders.
"I had a difficult day today, and I might have acted on impulse at certain moments," Origami said, joining her fingers in front of her, while mentally she wondered if she could have any other impulsive actions tonight on that couch.
"If you need a hug, a shoulder to cry on, or a quiet place, I'm here for you," Welt said, smiling sweetly and offering an open palm, wanting to be a supportive friend for her in the dimness of the living room.
Origami's heart softened upon hearing those warm words.
'Smart, kind, and naive—such a sweet combination that I feel like eating him up,' Origami thought, feeling the biological warmth and impulse starting to rush under her skin again.
In the white-haired doctor's head, a lightning-fast idea flashed: grabbing Welt by his shirt collar, kissing him on the mouth, pushing him with all her weight against the video game bookshelf, removing his belt, and... readers can imagine whatever they want within that room's perimeter.
Origami touched her temple with her gloved hand, shaking her head slightly and realizing that Welt had sensed something from her sudden silence.
'Normally, I don't have thoughts like these with Welt right in front of me; I have them when I'm alone in my panic room. My brain must be full of dopamine, norepinephrine, oxytocin,' Origami thought, reflecting on which substances were traveling through her brain.
Focusing back on the reality of the room, Origami saw that Welt had remained motionless in front of her, waiting for an answer. To overcome the embarrassment, the boy was unconsciously fiddling with the two figurines in his hands, making them gently tap face-to-face in a minimal contact of plastic.
"Did you like the kiss?" Origami asked, breaking the wait with a sharp whip of her voice and staring straight into his pupils, wanting to know one thing before delivering a final verdict on the situation.
Welt's face turned red instantly, a bright flush that even colored his neck.
"I won't lie to you, I liked it on a biological level. You are a very beautiful woman, not to mention your intelligence and elegance; there is no woman or man who would be unhappy with your kiss," Welt said, shyly lowering his head to hide his intense embarrassment and looking at the pattern on the carpet.
A shiver of pleasure ran down Origami's spine, hearing that Welt held her in such high regard, especially when he admitted with total honesty that he enjoyed the kiss. For Origami, this statement was a big, solid step forward for her plan.
"Can I ask why you bit me? It hurt," Welt said, raising a finger to touch his lip. Technically the flesh had healed, but the pain of the teeth's impact remained imprinted in his memory.
"I like to bite and scratch," Origami confessed without breaking character, staring straight into his face, being a very physical and direct woman when she wants to satisfy certain desires.
Welt's face turned completely red, a scarlet hue that entirely covered his ears.
"Well, this discussion is pushing past my comfort zone, but I don't judge. Everyone is free to enjoy life however they please," Welt said, taking a half-step back, being a modest person who wasn't comfortable talking about this intimate stuff.
"Welt, can you look up, please?" Origami said, moving a centimeter forward and wanting to be gentle, sensing the bookseller's visible discomfort.
Welt complied with the request, looking up deliberately, gazing into Origami's blue eyes.
In an instant, Origami took a quick step forward, erasing the distance. She leaned in and gave Welt a kiss on the cheek, then, where she had kissed him, she gently stroked him with the tips of her fingers, saying, "Thank you, Welt, you are as sweet as sugar."
The bookseller turned even redder than before, his neck muscles tense from the sudden emotion.
"I'm going to the kitchen. If you need anything, just tell me. You can watch TV, play one of my video games," Welt said in a rapid-fire burst, pulling away abruptly and turning on his heels before rushing into the kitchen to catch his breath.
'One step back today, a hundred steps forward tomorrow,' Origami thought. She stood still for a second, then walked with measured steps right behind Welt toward the kitchen, not wanting to be away from him for even a moment.
XXX
After half an hour in the kitchen.
Welt was wearing a white apron and working on preparing the lasagna. He moved with a steady rhythm in the cramped space of the room, between the marble countertop and the lit burners, where a medium-sized baking pan was already set on the counter.
Origami had remained seated at the table watching Welt, while drinking hot tea and eating some cookies, both offered by a certain bookseller as soon as she entered the kitchen. The steaming ceramic mug was clutched between her healthy fingers, while the warm light from the central chandelier illuminated her silver-white hair and the wooden surface of the table.
The white-haired doctor observed how Welt cooked: he placed all the ingredients on one side and the tools on the other, everything organized like a surgeon's operating table. Glass bowls with condiments, lined-up spices, and sharp knives were arranged in perfect geometric order on the counter, without a single trace of clutter.
Before starting, he had pulled out his smartphone and placed it on a book rest, starting a sort of podcast. The metal device was tilted on the stand close to the wall, broadcasting the voices throughout the room.
The Dungeon Master was about to run a one-shot, opening three booster packs of Magic cards to obtain the elements for his campaign; he then created a campaign set in Waterdeep for his four players.
With this element in the background, Welt began to proceed with his cooking as if he were a professional on a cooking show. His hands moved quickly and coordinated among the various compartments, dosing the béchamel sauce and spreading the layers of pasta sheet with absolute precision.
Origami observed everything, finding it pleasant to see a focused Welt using the knives and his hands in a precise and fast manner. The rhythmic sound of the blade on the wooden cutting board marked the time, while Welt minced the ingredients without a single error in trajectory. Her ears, in addition to the sound of the cutlery, also picked up the unfolding plot of the podcast, registering every single line from the players coming out of the speaker.
Ironically enough, Origami had imagined the scenario of living together with Welt as husband and wife several times.
In these little scenes, Origami was the housewife who greeted her husband returning from work, then she would do fun things on top of the kitchen table, or in the shower, or in the bedroom.
Instead, in reality, it seemed Welt would be the one taking on the role of the homemaker.
'Being a wife who comes home to a loving husband who is good at cooking wouldn't be bad,' Origami thought, reliving the scenario only with the roles reversed, as she rested her elbows on the table and stared at him motionlessly.
XXX
Inside Origami's organized, clean, and perverse mind.
The imaginary scenario took shape in her thoughts, vivid and detailed down to the smallest physical and spatial particulars.
A thirty-year-old Welt, wearing an apron, opens the front door, revealing a thirty-year-old Origami with waist-length hair and a voluptuous chest. The room in the background is a cozy living room, illuminated by the soft glow of a floor lamp and smelling of fresh food.
"Hello, hubby, how was work? Solved another important case?" the imaginary Welt asked.
"The same old stuff, I'll tell you the details later, I know you like listening to me," Origami said, as she placed her lab coat on the solid wood coat rack near the entrance, moving deliberately.
"Do you want me to draw you a hot bath or shall we eat? I made some delicious spaghetti," the imaginary Welt said, making room for her in the hallway.
"Where are the girls?" Origami asked, shifting her gaze toward the home's internal stairs.
"Sakura and Nanoha are at a pajama party; it's just us, like old times," the imaginary Welt said, giving a half-smile.
"Then, I want you," Origami said, closing the door behind her with a sharp kick that popped the lock. Then she places her hands on the imaginary Welt's shoulders and jumps onto him, using the momentum to slam him against the wooden floor, pinning him firmly under her own body weight on the floor.
"If the next one is a girl, let's name her Usagi; if it's finally time for a boy, Leonardo," Origami said, tightening her fingers around his arms before biting the imaginary Welt's neck like a vampire, sinking her teeth into his warm skin.
You can imagine what will happen...
XXX
Returning to reality.
"Origami, are you okay? You've been spacing out, staring at the floor for a whole minute," Welt said with a slightly worried expression. He had leaned forward over the polished marble counter of the kitchen, shifting his gaze between the girl's face and the light-colored floor tiles where she had remained anchored.
The white-haired doctor blinked, shaking off the vivid images of the imaginary kitchen thirty years later. Her brain stopped working on the simulation of married life with a third baby in the making. She slowly raised her chin, returning to grip the warm ceramic mug with her healthy hand.
"I'm fine, I was just thinking about the details of a project I want to carry out in the future," Origami told the truth, but in a way that kept her thoughts hidden, repositioning her blue gaze onto Welt to study his features.
"Bringing work home is a bad habit. Open your mouth and tell me what you think," Welt said, taking a step toward her. He raised his right arm, holding a steel spoon with some sauce near Origami's mouth, letting the warm steam of the sauce scent the air between them.
'I'm about to cross off the to-do list before marriage: being fed by Welt,' Origami thought, her chest experiencing a slight surge of emotion. She opened her pretty mouth and ate the offered sauce, savoring the texture on her palate directly from the spoon.
"It's very good, I like its consistency," Origami said, appreciating the taste and the gesture, her lips cleaning themselves with a quick movement.
"I'm glad to hear that," Welt said, showing a half-smile. He put the spoon down on the counter, then took the medium-sized lasagna, lifted it gently, and put it in the oven, pushing it onto the internal rack before closing the glass door. "The lasagna will be ready in two hours."
"Next time I would like to participate in the preparation. I enjoyed watching, but I prefer to move my hands," Origami said, resting her elbows on the edge of the wooden table, having some martial and domestic moves to try on Welt in the future.
"When your hand is healed, I won't have any objection to receiving a little help in the kitchen," Welt said. He grabbed a white terrycloth towel, wiping his hands carefully, then paused the podcast by pressing a finger on the backlit screen of the smartphone fixed on the book rest.
"I hope this podcast didn't bother you, but I like having background noise, especially when I have to do boring or repetitive tasks," Welt said, as he took off his white homemaker's apron and placed it on the back of a chair.
"I didn't mind it; it was something new for me. I admit I'm slightly curious about how it will end. A golem that plummeted from the sky like a meteorite in front of the tavern where the adventurers gathered to discuss their next stop," Origami said, having followed the unfolding voices of the podcast while consuming her crumbly cookies.
"We have two hours before the lasagna is ready, what do you want to do?" Welt asked, turning toward his guest and wanting to make Origami feel good within the walls of his home.
"Could we continue our scientific conversation?" Origami proposed, her blue irises fixed on the bookseller's fingers, finding it stimulating to talk about science with Welt in that context.
The bookseller raised an eyebrow, adjusting the red frame on his nose. "You do that almost all the time; don't you want to do something different? Besides science, what do you like to do?" Welt asked, stepping over to learn about other sides of Origami outside the forensics labs.
"I practice several martial arts and kendo," Origami said, straightening her spine in the chair. Besides science, training her body on the tatami and wielding a wooden or steel sword were her only other passions in life, not counting Welt.
"Origami Tobiichi, doctor in criminology, MIT-graduate scientist, and woman samurai... is there anything else?" Welt made a short summary of the aspects of Origami he knew, counting the titles with the fingers of his open hand.
"Unfortunately not. Ever since I turned 11, I dedicated myself to studying and training; once I graduated, I focused on my career. I didn't have the time or energy to cultivate other interests," Origami confessed, her flat voice betraying the shadow of a sacrificed adolescence. Until she met Welt, she had possessed a single goal in life.
Nowadays, Origami had two reasons to live: completing her self-designed mission in the dark and founding a family with Welt.
"The two of us are more alike than you think," Welt said with a melancholy expression, his head lowering slightly as memories took shape.
'I like hearing that, but not seeing such an expression,' Origami thought, her lips twitching imperceptibly, preferring to see Welt smile radiantly.
"Let me tell you a little story about my past in Europe," Welt said, sitting down in the chair adjacent to hers and feeling close to Origami's physical presence.
'It must be something serious. Welt rarely talks about his life prior to moving to Nightfall City,' Origami thought, focusing exclusively on the bookseller, resting her bandaged fingers on the table and putting aside her fanciful thoughts.
"When I started high school, my family enrolled me in the sports track, so that after graduation I could go to the police academy and end up like my uncle Paul, a police captain," Welt said, speaking of his family's old plans for him during his school days.
"You were supposed to be a police officer?" Origami asked, slightly surprised by this revelation. Her eyebrows rose. Welt was a fan of crime movies and detective literature—she knew that well—but he wasn't made for such field work; he was too sweet to wear a police uniform and deal with criminals.
"I spent my first three days of high school in a classroom with 19 other boys, loud and rowdy, a couple of them illiterate. Then the teachers called my parents. In short, they said I had no place in the sports track, that I am too smart, and the next day I was transferred to the science track," Welt said, explaining a fact that had radically influenced his previous life overseas.
"I agree with them; it would have been a huge waste," Origami said, convinced that Welt was infinitely better suited for a lab coat or a drawing pencil rather than a rigid police uniform.
"My parents knew I was smart, but not smart enough to be sent to the nerds' class. When they realized it, they pressured me to dedicate myself to studying so I could go to a good university and be the first graduate in the family," Welt explained, with an apathetic tone that recalled the exhaustion of those years.
"Graduated from high school with a grade point average of 8.7. Then, graduated from the engineering university with a 9 average. My parents were overjoyed; I wasn't," Welt said, describing his excellent grades that had made his parents proud, but letting a hint of bitterness show through.
"High school was a bad period, with quite a few moody moments. University was a bit better because I no longer had my parents breathing down my neck, but the subjects were complex, and I had trouble sleeping. I had to take anti-anxiety meds during all exam periods. In my third year, I had a nervous breakdown at the end of the second semester when I got a bad grade, two vomiting fits before exams, and my graduation thesis almost drove me crazy," Welt paused for a moment from speaking, clenching his fingers on the table and showing an expression filled with deep bitterness.
Origami's heart felt as if it had just cracked in the face of that repressed suffering. Slowly, she moved her healthy hand over Welt's hand, covering his fingers on the wood of the table to make him feel better with her physical contact.
"In the end, I realized that I didn't want to be an engineer. Then something happened that I don't want to talk about with anyone, but I moved to Nightfall City, I created the Owl House, and as you can see from my living room, I recovered the happiness I lost with intensive studying," Welt said, turning his head toward her and returning to a sweet smile.
'He feels empathetic toward me because we dedicated our adolescence to studying instead of having fun like the others. However, I did it on my own accord for my mission, whereas he was forced by pressure. He wants to take me out of my comfort zone and make me happy,' Origami thought, tightening her grip on his skin and understanding what Welt wanted to do tonight.
"Therefore, for tonight, let's cast aside all science and academic pasts—let's go have some fun in the FUN-Room!" Welt exclaimed, jumping to his feet and breaking the kitchen's melancholy atmosphere.
Holding Origami's hand firmly in his, he led her with quick steps toward the second floor of his house, passing through the dark living room, where Welt bent down for a moment to grab the heavy bag with the LEGOs from the coffee table.
'FUN-Room?' Origami thought, slightly curious, moving behind him up the wooden steps, deciding to let herself be completely carried away by Welt into his secret spaces.
XXX
After a quick walk up the stairs, Origami was brought into the FUN-Room.
In the past, these were two guest rooms side by side, but the wall separating them had been completely torn down. All the old furniture had been thrown away, the walls painted a light gray and filled with fun, new things, illuminated by adjustable LED spotlights fixed to the ceiling.
One part of the room was practically a combination of an art workshop and an exhibition museum.
In the center sat a large rectangular table made of light wood with the entire LEGO City set mounted on top, complete with streets, buildings, and small plastic vehicles snapped together.
On the dark wood shelves to the left, there were LEGO sets of Star Wars, Justice League, Avengers, and space-themed sets, all shiny and dust-free.
On the shelves to the right, protected by transparent glass cases, there were models of numerous vehicles, ships in bottles with tiny details, articulated mechas, Frame Arms Girl models with metallic components, and rows of perfectly painted Warhammer miniatures.
There was a table in front of the large window with all the tools for painting and drawing, along with numerous instruments to modify or customize all the items present, such as bottles of acrylics, sable brushes, and small professional airbrushes.
On one part of the wall, hanging on magnetic racks, there were hyper-realistic plastic models of numerous full-scale firearms, which reflected the light of the room.
There was a solid wood bookcase filled with thick manuals and everything needed to enjoy role-playing games, many of them D&D, along with some props like cloaks, polyhedral dice, and replicas of scepters to get into character during sessions.
The other part of the room housed less refined, but equally fun things.
There was a pool table with an immaculate green cloth, surmounted by low lamps, and a stick hockey table (the mini tabletop hockey with plastic knobs).
A little further along stood a small wooden stage with a karaoke machine equipped with two microphones and a wardrobe closet with different clothing items for dress-up.
For some reason, positioned in the corner, there was an arcade cabinet station for a dance-battle type of game, with the metallic arrow platform ready for use.
In the center of these areas, against the back wall, there were several large dark metal cabinets with thick six-digit padlocks locking the doors.
"It's as if you brought a piece of the Owl House into your home," Origami said, moving her blue gaze along the walls and seeing a clear resemblance between the FUN-Room and the internal layout of Welt's shop.
"I like to think I transformed this fun corner into the Owl House," Welt said with a small smile, adjusting his glasses on his nose.
Walking into the art area with quiet steps across the floor, Welt pulled the LEGO boxes out of the plastic bag. He placed his and the one for Natsumi inside a large drawer of a cabinet, while he put Origami's Enterprise on the large worktable.
"You said you practice kendo; does that mean you like swords?" Welt asked, walking toward one of the metal cabinets locked with a number padlock.
"You could say so," Origami replied, knowing that this word would convince Welt to open the metal cabinet.
"Then, I have something you'll like," Welt said. He stood in front of the padlock with a straight back, so as to prevent Origami from seeing the six-digit access code while he moved his fingers across the numbered rollers.
Once the code was entered, Welt removed the padlock with a sharp metallic click and opened the heavy cabinet doors, revealing several rare objects inside that could be found in a high-end antique shop or a historical museum.
Welt pulled out two swords that looked like authentic, ancient Japanese samurai blades, holding them up with care.
The hilt featured the classic wrapping finish of dark silk bandages, while the circular guard and metal fittings were decorated with elegant golden accents that gleamed under the spotlights.
The two swords were kept inside shiny black lacquered wood scabbards and decorated identically, to show they were born to be together as an inseparable pair.
"Meet the daishō swords: Kizami, which means Cutting, and Chiri, which means Dust. Together they mean: To reduce to dust," Welt introduced the weapons in a calm tone, handing the smaller blade, the wakizashi, to Origami.
Using her healthy right hand, Origami firmly gripped the hilt and executed a fluid motion to partially unsheathe it from the lacquered wood, revealing a masterful blade of flawless steel and a wavy hamon profile, the edge cutting the sound in the room's air.
"This is no ordinary scrap metal; it's an authentic masterpiece," Origami declared, her blue eyes fixed on the reflection of the metal. She had seen swords of such craftsmanship only in the most protected national museums.
A small smile appeared on Welt's face, appreciating seeing that Origami was genuinely interested in his collectible trinket.
"How did you get these swords?" Origami asked, turning her head slightly toward him, wanting to know how Welt possessed such a treasure.
"I bought them at an online auction. The San Fransokyo police locked up a gangster named Yama and sold off his confiscated assets. I got the swords for $50, then I paid $5,000 for the services of a trusted courier, Kirara from Komaniya Express, to go to San Fransokyo to pick them up and bring them here to Nightfall City," Welt spoke of his bizarre purchase.
"The police of that city do not know how to do their job; these swords are worth infinitely more than $50," Origami said, with a note of slight annoyance in her flat voice.
The white-haired doctor was half-American on her father's side and half-Japanese on her mother's side.
She was born and raised in Japan until the age of 11, after which she moved to America to live with her paternal aunt, where she continued her school life and career.
Origami was not a fierce patriot; she did not harbor a particular allegiance to America or Japan, yet at that moment she felt a little offended seeing that officers could not realize the actual historical value of those swords.
"At the very least, these daishō swords are worth $550,000; if I tried to sell them to a private collector, I could easily reach the sum of several million dollars," Welt said, having done extensive research in auction catalogs.
"To have such value, they would need a Tokubetsu Juyo Certificate, which would make them a national treasure from Japan's perspective," Origami said, slowly sliding the katana back into its black scabbards with a metallic click.
"You're right, they are a National Treasure. They are blades produced at the end of the 1400s, they belong to the Muromachi/Sengoku period, and they are classified as Koto. I am sure they were wielded by famous samurai of that period and by some daimyos," Welt said. He grabbed the lacquered scabbards and, moving carefully, put the swords back in their display spot inside the cabinet.
"If you are right, why didn't the Japanese consulate requisition them? I know that when it comes to an Important Cultural Property or a National Treasure, Japanese law strictly forbids its export outside national borders. It can only be purchased by residents in Japan and must remain in the country to preserve its historical heritage," Origami recounted, accurately recalling what she had learned at school in Japan during her childhood.
"For two reasons. Number one: they don't know they exist, and that they are in the hands of a European immigrant whose only Japanese trait is his mania for manga," Welt said in an amused tone, turning toward her on the gray floor.
"Number two: technically, Japan cannot make any legal claim. The swords arrived in America when their original owners landed in San Fransokyo in 1930, a good twenty years before Japan signed the Law for the Protection of Cultural Properties in 1950. That daishō left legally when it was still considered private property and not a protected asset of the State. In the eyes of international law, these swords are an American object that belongs to me," Welt said, showing his clean hands with a calm gesture.
"You'd better not tell other people that you have such a treasure. I can already picture thieves, hyper-patriots, or women with ulterior motives trying to get their hands on those swords," Origami said with a worried expression.
"I only told you because I trust you. And if, by some absurd chance, something were to happen to me, I will pass Kizami and Chiri to you: it's better for a Japanese female swordsman to inherit them," Welt said seriously, locking eyes with her blue gaze.
A small blush appeared on Origami's cheeks when she heard the words "I trust you" come out of the bookseller's mouth. Her heart suddenly accelerated.
'One more reason to marry Welt and have babies with him. This way, a National Treasure will return to Japanese hands; well, one-quarter Japanese, one-quarter American, and two-quarters European,' Origami thought, feeling a little more patriotic than before as she stared at the boy's profile.
"I promise I will keep the secret. But do you have other objects like that in the cabinets?" Origami asked, shifting her blue eyes toward the rest of the dark metal cabinets locked with combination padlocks.
"Every now and then I buy interesting items from online auctions; some are niche objects or have no historical value at all, just collector's value. The swords are the highlight of my collection," Welt said, as he clicked the ring padlock shut again to lock the cabinet.
He then turned toward the large worktable, pointing to the still-sealed packaging of the starship. "Do you want us to start building the Enterprise LEGO set together? We won't be able to finish it tonight, but we can do a part of it and then finish it over the next few days. Or, if you want, I can let you take care of the Enterprise all by yourself and we could play a game of pool?" Welt proposed various activities on the room's carpet for him and Origami.
"I would like to build the Enterprise with you, Welt. I am free today and tomorrow as well; if we can't finish it by tomorrow, we will do it at the next dinner together. After all, we have to prepare a lasagna together," Origami said, choosing the option that allowed her to spend the most time with Welt. She moved the worktable chair, positioning herself right next to him under the sharp light of the LED spotlight.
"Excellent!" the bookseller exclaimed in a great mood, his eyes shining with enthusiasm behind the lenses of his red frame.
"If you want, you can start the podcast in the background; I'd like to know how it ends," Origami said, smoothing her pencil skirt and showing herself to be a little curious to hear the fate of the adventurers in Waterdeep.
A huge smile appeared on Welt's face. With a swift movement of his fingers on the smartphone screen, he unlocked the device and restarted the audio track, filling the gray walls of the FUN-Room once again with the background hum of rolling dice.
"You know, now I can't help but wonder if high school or university would have been so bad if we had attended the same schools," Welt said, letting that consideration slip out without thinking, as he grabbed the scissors on the art bench to cut the first plastic bag of bricks.
"It's a sweet thought, having been childhood friends, but knowing myself I would have been an ice queen: as a teenager, I was quite unsocial," Origami said, pouring the small gray and transparent pieces onto the light wood work surface. She recalled with composure the long years spent in America, during which she had rejected so many people who wanted to be friends with her at that age, preferring to isolate herself in her rigorous training and study schedules.
"Hard to imagine, you are very open with me. I see that we are both reserved people by nature, but I am sure we would have opened up to each other," Welt said, being the optimist and handing her the first rigid section of the starship's lower hull to assemble.
"Perhaps so," Origami said, looking up to meet his eyes. If a true bolt of lightning had struck her when she met Welt as an adult, very likely the exact same biological bond would have occurred during adolescence too.
The two nerds sat at the table, starting to open the LEGO box, ready to enjoy a couple of carefree hours filled with chats and millimeter-precise snapping, with a D&D campaign in the background marking the time before the kitchen timer announced that the lasagna was done cooking.
To be continued...
XXX
Author's Note:
A part of me wanted to write one or three more scenes about how Origami and Welt interact. However, I thought I would end it here.
In the next chapter, Origami and Welt will wrap up their evening, and so the evening of Black Warlock and Spider-Man will begin.
Extra information: I feel obligated to elaborate on the scene I mentioned at the beginning regarding the 1993 movie City Hunter.
During the movie, Ryo Saeba (Jackie Chan) and his antagonist are fighting inside the arcade of a luxury cruise ship that has been hijacked by terrorists.
During the brawl, the antagonist (played by Gary Daniels) throws Jackie Chan against an original Street Fighter II arcade cabinet. The cabinet short-circuits and Jackie Chan receives a massive electric shock.
Due to the electrical trauma and the fact that he had been completely fasting for days, Ryo Saeba's perception becomes distorted. He begins to see his opponent as the character Ken Masters.
In order to beat Ken, Jackie Chan's character first transforms into E. Honda (suffering a sound defeat, however) and finally into the legendary female character Chun-Li, successfully defeating his opponent with a flurry of special moves and lightning-fast flying kicks.