CHAPTER 2: "THE ONE WHO WAS PICKED UP"
"She didn't know what she was looking for.But somehow… kindness found her first."
It had rained all night.
The kind of rain that didn't wash things away, only made the dirt stick harder.
By morning, the city was half-awake—just like her.
She didn't remember how far she had walked. Or when her feet stopped bleeding.She only remembered falling.
Right there, on the pavement in front of a dim, quiet café. The neon sign was still flickering.
"CAFE SALVARE."
Salvation.She didn't believe in it.But her body collapsed anyway—right in front of the entrance, like a broken doll laid to rest.
The door creaked open.
A shadow fell over her. Firm steps. Hushed breath.
Then a voice—calm, strong, aged like velvet wrapped in steel.
???:
"Oh dear... what storm dragged you in, girl?"
She didn't respond. Couldn't.Her eyes barely opened—enough to catch a glimpse of soft black boots and the hem of a burgundy skirt.A woman's hand gently tilted her chin.
Warmth. Strange. Familiar. Alien.
???:
"You're no junkie. No thug. And yet...""You've got that same 'lost' look I used to see on war orphans."
The woman sighed.
???:
"Hilda's Café isn't a shelter. But I won't let a body rot on my doorstep either."
With surprising strength, she lifted the girl—wet, muddy, and half-conscious—and brought her inside.
Aeris opened her eyes again to light.
Soft yellow. The scent of coffee and cinnamon. Warm fabric on her skin.
A towel lay over her shoulders. A mug steamed on the counter nearby.
She blinked.
Aeris (quiet):
"…Why."
Hilda (washing a glass):
"Because I felt like it."
Aeris:
"You don't know me."
Hilda (glancing back):
"No. But I know what someone looks like after they've lost everything. And I know that when someone like that is still breathing, it's not by choice. It's because they still want something—even if they've forgotten what."
Aeris said nothing.Her eyes dropped to her hands. Still shaking.Still stained with someone else's blood.
Hilda walked over.
Set down a small envelope.
Hilda:
"This isn't charity. Work here if you want a roof. Learn to make coffee. Clean the tables.You'll eat what I cook, and you'll answer when I call."
Aeris:
"That simple?"
Hilda (smirking):
"No. It's never simple. But it starts with one step."
And so she stayed.
She didn't tell Hilda who she really was.Didn't talk about labs. Or codenames. Or the thing crawling under her skin that made her deathless.
She just swept the floors. Wiped the counters. Watched the rain.
And for the first time in years—
Aeris began to live.
"You can only run from the world for so long…until someone hands you an apron instead of a gun."
Morning came slower at Café Salvare.
Sunlight filtered through frosted windows. The scent of brewed coffee and vanilla beans hung in the air.Aeris stood awkwardly behind the counter—holding a steaming mug that trembled slightly in her hands.
Hilda (arms crossed):
"Careful. That cup's worth more than your body count."
Aeris (quietly):
"…Sorry."
Hilda:
"Don't apologize. Pour better."
Her first few days were… awkward.
She didn't know how to talk to customers. Didn't know how to use the register. Burnt toast. Forgot sugar.
She almost knocked over an entire stack of cups just trying to mop the floor.
But Hilda never raised her voice. Not once.
She just watched. Corrected. Occasionally smirked.
And once, when Aeris dropped a plate and flinched hard—bracing for a hit that never came—Hilda simply walked over, knelt beside her, and said:
"You don't have to be scared here."
That was the moment it started to change.
A week passed.
Aeris began to get used to the rhythm.
She brewed drinks. Learned names. Even remembered someone's order twice in a row.
A regular complimented her coffee with a tired smile.
Customer:
"You've got steady hands. Military?"
Aeris paused.
Aeris (soft):
"…Something like that."
That night, the café was quiet. Just the two of them.
Hilda wiped the bar down while Aeris stood beside her, drying glasses.
Then, out of nowhere—
Aeris:
"I can't die."
Hilda didn't flinch. Didn't stop wiping the counter.
Hilda:
"Took you long enough."
Aeris:
"…You knew?"
Hilda (shrugged):
"You bled out on my floor and walked again by morning. Not hard to figure."
A long silence.
Aeris:
"I'm not human. Not fully. I was part of something… bad. They made me this way. I've died more times than I've slept. It messes with my head. I don't even know who I am anymore."
Hilda (gently):
"You're Aeris. You like bitter coffee and sleep with one eye open. You still flinch when the bell rings, but you've never served a cold drink."
She turned to face her.
Hilda:
"You don't have to tell me everything. But if you're staying here… I want you to use what you are. Not hate it."
Aeris looked down.
Aeris:
"…How?"
Hilda pulled out a dusty black folder from beneath the counter. Tossed it on the bar.
Inside—documents. Maps. Names. Payment stubs.
Hilda (firmly):
"There's more to this café than caffeine."
She leaned in.
Hilda:
"I used to run with mercenaries. And I still take jobs now and then—for clients who don't want questions. I've been turning them down lately... but with you here?"
She placed a silver pin with a black insignia on the counter.
SALVARE MERCENARY NETWORK – Level C Contract Badge
Hilda (smiling faintly):
"Let's put your rebirth to good use. You interested?"
Aeris stared at it.
Then, slowly… she nodded.
That night, she stood on the rooftop, the city lights behind her. The pin in her pocket. Her apron still tied around her waist.
She whispered to the night:
"Not a weapon.Not a ghost.Just… someone who won't die quietly."