The next morning, Cedric wasn't woken up by the System's torture playlist or the sun burning his retinas.
He was woken up by a feeling.
Bloop... Bloop...
It wasn't a sound. It was a vibration. A rhythmic, insistent pulse against his hip bone.
Cedric opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. He was still wearing his utility belt (he had fallen asleep with it on, too tired to take it off after the cleaning spree and the chaos with the Cunning Hares).
He reached down to the blue thermos-sized incubator clipped to his waist. It was trembling. Not shivering like it was cold, but wiggling.
[Morning, Dad,] The System chimed in, sounding amused. [The kids are awake.]
Cedric sat up, rubbing his face. "Is it hungry?"
[Negative. Nutrients are at 98%. Temperature is optimal. It's not a survival need.]
[It is boredom.]
"Boredom?" Cedric repeated, looking at the metal cylinder. "It is an egg. How can it be bored?"
[It is a living consciousness floating in a dark tank. Of course it's bored. The auditory sensors are developing. It wants stimulation. It wants to hear the world. But the world currently sounds like your snoring.]
A blue window popped up.
[Daily Quest: The Conductor]
[Objective: Find a suitable genre of music to soothe and stimulate the Water-Type Egg.]
[Reward: Passive Skill 'Rhythm Sense' (Grants an intuitive understanding of beats and timing).]
Cedric sighed. He unclipped the blue cylinder and placed it on the bed.
"Music..." he muttered.
He tried the radio on his phone first. The news channel.
"—Hollow activity has increased—"
The cylinder vibrated violently. Thud-thud-thud.
[Stress levels rising. It hates the anchor's voice.]
He switched to a pop station. High-pitched, synthesized idols singing about love.
The cylinder went still. Completely still.
[Indifference. It is unimpressed.]
Cedric looked around the empty room. He didn't have any instruments.
He cleared his throat.
"La... la... la..." he hummed tentatively.
...
[Stop.] The System interrupted immediately.
[Please. For the sake of humanity. You are tone-deaf. The egg is trying to retract into itself.]
Cedric closed his mouth, feeling slightly offended. "I need professional help."
He stood up and grabbed his phone to check the time. The sleek, matte metal of the device was cold and smooth—too smooth. It slipped through his fingers like a bar of wet soap.
Cedric's reflexes flared. He fumbled, juggling the device against his chest before finally catching it with both hands just inches from the floor.
"Dangerous." he whispered, staring at the black brick.
He also needed a case. A rugged, grippy case.
He clipped the incubators back on under his loose black tracksuit jacket and headed out.
***
Twenty minutes later, Cedric stood in front of the shop directly across from Random Play.
Bardic Needle.
He had walked past it a dozen times but never entered. The exterior was sleek, dark, and intimidatingly cool compared to the warm yellow of the video store.
He adjusted his jacket. He was wearing his usual black windbreaker zipped all the way up. It was baggy enough to completely conceal the utility belt and the two incubators clipped to his waist.
He patted the hidden blue cylinder through the fabric. "Behave," he whispered.
He pushed the door open.
The air inside was cool, smelling of vinyl, dust, and expensive incense. It was dimly lit, the walls lined with thousands of records, CDs, and tapes.
It was quiet. A soft, ambient track was playing in the background—something slow and melancholic.
Behind the counter stood the owner.
She wasn't human. She wasn't a Thiren.
She was an Intelligent Construct (a robot), but unlike the combat-ready frame of Billy, her design was sleek, artistic, and elegant.
Her "skin" was a matte, deep black material that absorbed the dim light of the shop. Her "hair" was a stylized, teal casing that curved around her head like a sculpted helmet, accented with pink details.
She wore a long, flowing dress—cream-colored with a green sash patterned with pink musical notes—that draped over her mechanical joints.
Her eyes were two glowing, teal lights without pupils, humming with a soft, digital calmness.
It was Elfy.
She looked up from a magazine as Cedric entered. Her glowing eyes swept over him, processing his presence with quiet efficiency.
She didn't smile. She didn't shout "Welcome!". She just nodded once, her mechanical neck moving smoothly.
"Browsing?" she asked. Her voice was synthesized but low and smooth, like velvet over metal.
Cedric walked to the counter. He liked her immediately. No unnecessary energy. No biological noise.
"I need music," he said.
"We sell music," Elfy replied dryly. "Genre?"
Cedric hesitated. He chose his words carefully.
"For... education," he said. "Prenatal education. For a child. Very young. Sensitive."
Elfy's optical sensors brightened slightly, adjusting focus. She looked at him—a short boy in a tracksuit asking for prenatal music.
Most shopkeepers would ask questions. They would make a joke.
Elfy did neither. She simply closed her magazine.
"The hardest audience," she stated. "Too loud, they cry. Too boring, they sleep. You need the middle ground."
She stepped out from behind the counter, her metallic feet making soft clicks on the floor, and walked to a shelf labeled 'Atmospheric'.
"How picky is the... listener?" she asked, pulling out a record with long, elegant mechanical fingers.
"Very," Cedric said, feeling a thrum against his hip. "It hates the news. It hates pop idols."
The lights in Elfy's eyes curved slightly—a digital smile. "Good taste."
She walked over to a listening station—a high-end turntable with a pair of large speakers.
"We'll test," she said. "I'll play it on the speakers. You judge."
Test 1: Classical Piano (Fast Tempo)
The music filled the shop. It was a complex, rapid-fire piano concerto. Technical. Impressive. Loud.
Cedric stood still, focusing inward.
[Skill Activated: Empathy]
He focused on the sensation against his hip.
Buzz... Buzz...
The vibration against his bone was erratic. Irritated. It felt like a headache.
Cedric shook his head slightly. "Too fast. Too... anxious."
Elfy nodded. She took the record off immediately. "Overstimulating. Understood."
Test 2: Lo-Fi Hip Hop
The next track was a slow, repetitive beat with static noise.
...
Nothing. The weight at his hip was dead still.
"Boring," Cedric diagnosed.
Elfy hummed, a soft electronic purr. She tapped her chin, looking at Cedric. She seemed to be analyzing his vibe—the quietness, the dark clothes, the stillness.
"Let's try something... organic," she decided.
She pulled out a record with a cover art that looked like rain falling on a dark lake.
Test 3: Ambient Jazz (Water & Saxophone)
The music started.
It wasn't just instruments. It started with the sound of water—a deep, resonant dripping sound, like a cave. Then, a slow, mournful saxophone drifted in, weaving through the sound of rain.
It was deep. It was heavy. But it was flowing.
Thump... Thump...
Cedric felt it instantly.
The vibration against his hip changed. It wasn't the erratic buzzing of irritation.
It was a slow, rhythmic pulse. It synced perfectly with the bassline of the song.
Through the [Empathy] link, he felt a wave of pure, liquid sensation washing over his mind.
Curiosity. Comfort. Flow.
The egg wasn't just listening; it was dancing.
Cedric relaxed his shoulders. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the music wash over him too.
"This one," he said softly.
Elfy looked at him. "It's okay?"
"Yes," Cedric nodded. "It feels... right."
Elfy nodded, satisfied. " 'Rain on the Window'. A classic. Limited pressing."
She took the record off and slipped it into its sleeve.
"I'll take it," Cedric said. "Do you have... a portable player? I don't have a setup at home."
Elfy went to the back room. She returned with a small, retro-style Walkman and a pair of high-quality headphones.
"Refurbished," she said. "Old tech, but the sound warmth is better than digital. It suits this album."
Cedric paid with the Black Card. Elfy didn't blink at the wealth, just processed the transaction efficiently.
As he packed the items into his bag (the canvas one Wise gave him), Elfy leaned over the counter.
"The child," she said softly.
Cedric paused, holding the bag strap.
"When they arrive," Elfy continued, her expression unreadable but her tone gentle. "You can bring them here. The acoustics are good for... development."
Cedric relaxed. She thought he was a young, expectant father (or brother). It was a safe misunderstanding.
"I will," he promised. "Thank you."
He walked out of the shop. The interaction had taken less than fifteen minutes. Only fifty words spoken.
Perfect.
Now he had the music. But he couldn't walk around with a vibrating egg while shopping for a phone case.
He looked across the street at the yellow shop.
***
Cedric walked into the video store. It was quiet, the morning sun filtering through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.
Wise was behind the counter, organizing a stack of returned videotapes. She looked up as the bell chimed.
"Cedric?" She smiled, her eyes crinkling warmly. "Good morning. You're up early. Did you go for your run already?"
"Not really," Cedric replied, walking up to the counter. He hesitated for a moment, then unbuckled his heavy utility belt.
Thud.
He placed the two metal cylinders—the black one and the blue one—gently on the wooden surface. Then he placed the Walkman and the large headphones next to them.
Wise looked at the setup, then back at Cedric. She noticed the slight tension in his shoulders.
"Everything okay?" she asked softly. "Is something wrong with them?"
"No. They are... bored," Cedric explained, his voice serious. "Especially the blue one. It needs stimulation."
He looked at Wise, meeting her teal eyes.
"Sister," he said formally. "I have a request. Can you watch them? I need to go to Box Galaxy to buy a phone case. The environment there is too chaotic for... developing minds."
Wise blinked, then a soft chuckle escaped her lips. She leaned her elbows on the counter, looking at him with affectionate amusement.
"So, you need a babysitter?" she teased gently.
"I need a guardian," Cedric corrected. "Someone I trust."
Wise's expression softened instantly. The teasing vanished, replaced by a genuine warmth. She reached out and patted the top of the black incubator.
"I'd be honored," she said. "What do I need to do? Do they need anything?"
"Nothing. Just music."
Cedric picked up the headphones. He carefully placed them over the blue cylinder, adjusting the earcups so they pressed firmly against the glass.
"It needs to listen to this track for exactly forty-five minutes," he instructed, pressing the Play button on the Walkman. "Please ensure the volume does not exceed level 4. Loud noises startle it."
Faint, soothing jazz mixed with rain sounds began to leak from the headphones.
Wise watched him. She saw the careful way his fingers adjusted the wire, the focused look in his purple eyes. He looked less like a gloomy teenager and more like a diligent, slightly anxious young father.
"You're taking good care of them," she noted softly.
Cedric paused. He looked at the glowing blue light of the machine.
"They are mine," he said simply. "I am responsible."
"Well, they are in good hands," Wise promised. She moved the setup to a safer spot on the shelf behind the counter, away from the edge.
"18 and I will make sure they enjoy the music. No customers will disturb them. I promise."
18, the Bangboo with the orange scarf, popped up from behind the register. It held a "Quiet Please" sign (which it had likely just scribbled). "Eh-nah!"
Cedric felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen.
"Thank you, Sister," he said. He lingered for a second, checking the setup one last time. "I will be fast."
"Take your time," Wise waved him off. "Get a nice case. Maybe something with a color other than black?"
"I like black" Cedric muttered, turning to the door. But there was a lightness in his step that hadn't been there before.
…
…
…
Cedric walked down the street to Box Galaxy.
He pushed the glass door open, and the world shifted instantly.
If the street outside was gray reality, Box Galaxy was a kaleidoscope of synthesized dreams.
The shop was a labyrinth. Rows upon rows of shelves towered towards the ceiling, packed so densely with merchandise that they formed narrow, vibrant canyons.
The air smelled of fresh vinyl, heated plastic, and that specific, electric scent of new electronics. A cheerful, 8-bit chiptune melody played from hidden speakers, looping endlessly.
Cedric stepped in cautiously. His senses were immediately assaulted.
To his left was the "Mecha Zone." Shelves groaned under the weight of plastic robot model kits—from palm-sized SD figures to massive, complex Perfect Grades that cost more than his monthly rent.
To his right was a wall of plushies. Bangboos in every color and round, squishy Ethereals (which Cedric found weird).
He walked deeper into the store, his footsteps silent on the checkered floor.
He passed a display of retro game cartridges locked behind glass. He saw a group of kids huddled around a demo station, button-mashing furiously.
"Too much visual noise," Cedric murmured, squinting at a neon sign advertising 'Starlight Knight: The Movie - Collectible Popcorn Buckets'.
He navigated the aisles like a shadow, trying not to knock over the precarious stacks of merchandise.
He was looking for something practical. A utility item. But this place was a temple to the impractical.
He passed the Gacha Corner. Dozens of machines lined the wall, filled with plastic capsules containing everything from miniature furniture to fake sushi keychains.
Click-clack.
Someone turned a dial. A capsule dropped. A small cheer erupted.
Cedric ignored it. He finally spotted a sign hanging from the ceiling: "Accessories & Tech".
He headed towards the back of the store.
Here, the shelves were less chaotic. Rows of cables, chargers, and screen protectors were arranged with relative order.
He scanned the phone cases. Most were loud—glittery, shaped like animals, or printed with anime characters.
He searched for three minutes until he found it buried in the bottom row: A "Military Grade Shock-Proof Case". Matte black. Indestructible.
"Perfect," he whispered, grabbing it.
Case in hand, he turned toward the checkout counter to escape this sensory overload.
But as he navigated past the Blow Mall display tower—a massive, rotating glass case filled with designer toys—a sound stopped him.
Rrrrip... Sigh.
It was a sound of deep, spiritual exhaustion.
In the corner, obscured by a cardboard standee of a Starlight Knight, stood a familiar figure.
It was Ellen.
She wasn't in her maid outfit. She was dressed in her casual streetwear—an oversized graphic tee with a skull print, loose black shorts, and red sneakers. A lollipop stick bobbed in her mouth.
She held an opened box of Demu: Aquarium Series in one hand, and her other hand was resting on her hip, tapping impatiently.
On the shelf next to her sat four identical figures—the Sea Horse.
"Tsk," Ellen clicked her tongue, tossing the fifth Sea Horse onto the pile with a clatter. "Useless. I just want the shark."
Cedric paused. He needed to pass her to get to the register. The aisle was narrow.
He watched her for a second. She picked up another box from the shelf, shook it next to her ear like a maraca, then put it back with a groan.
'She is gambling,' he realized.
He stepped closer. "What are you looking for?"
Ellen jumped slightly. Her massive shark tail, which was resting on the floor, swished aggressively, knocking a box of trading cards off the lower shelf.
She spun around, her red eyes narrowing as she recognized him.
"Oh. It's you," she drawled, relaxing her posture but not her scowl. "The Arcade Guy. Don't tell me you're here to steal my gacha luck too? Because I have none left."
"I am buying a case," Cedric replied, holding up his black brick of a case. He bent down and picked up the fallen trading cards, placing them back on the shelf neatly.
He glanced at the pile of open boxes. "You are hunting?"
"I'm collecting," Ellen corrected defensively, crossing her arms. "I'm trying to pull the Shark. It's the only one I want. But I keep pulling this curly yellow thing."
She pointed a finger at the army of Sea Horses. "Look at them. They're mocking me."
Cedric looked at the boxes remaining on the shelf. There were about fifteen left.
The music in the store was giving him a headache, and he just wanted to leave. But when looking at them... he felt curious.
"I'll buy one," he said.
"Don't blame me if you get something you don't like." Ellen warned, popping her lollipop back in. "This batch is cursed."
Cedric grabbed a box at random from the middle of the stack. He took it to the counter, paid for it and his phone case, then returned to stand next to Ellen.
He ripped the tab open.
Rrrrip.
He pulled out the figure.
It was a boy wearing a grey shark hood with a sharp fin on top.
The Shark.
THWACK.
Ellen's tail hit the shelf again, harder this time.
"No way," she whispered, taking the lollipop out of her mouth.
Ellen let out a short, disbelief huff. She looked at her army of yellow Sea Horses, then at his Shark.
"Of course," she muttered. "I buy five and get a cavalry of failures. You buy one for fun and get the one I actually want. RNG hates me."
Cedric looked at the Shark figure.
Then he looked at the pile of Sea Horses next to Ellen.
"I prefer that one," Cedric said, pointing at a Sea Horse.
Ellen blinked. "The Sea Horse? Really?"
"Yes." Cedric said.
He held out the Shark figure to her.
"Trade?"
Ellen stared at him. She looked at the Shark figure she wanted. Then she looked at his deadpan face.
"You want to trade... the Shark... for a duplicate I was about to give away?"
"Yes," Cedric said. "I like the yellow one."
A slow smirk spread across Ellen's face.
"Deal." she said immediately.
She grabbed a fresh Sea Horse (still in its foil from her pile) and swapped it with the Shark in his hand.
"No take-backs." she said, pocketing the Shark figure happily. "Finally. My collection is complete."
Cedric pocketed the yellow Sea Horse. He felt satisfied. It was a good trade.
"Pleasure doing business." he said.
Ellen stretched her arms, her joints popping. She checked her phone.
"Man, opening boxes is exhausting." she sighed. "My brain sugar is depleted. I need a refill."
"Hey," she said. "I'm getting a drink. You coming? My treat. Since you basically just handed me the one I wanted."
Cedric hesitated. But the System chimed in his head.
[Go. It's free coffee. And you need to socialize.]
"Fine," Cedric said.
…
…
…
While Cedric and Ellen were walking to Coff Cafe...
Three girls were wandering aimlessly down the sidewalk, their footsteps dragging with boredom. They're Ellen's best friends
"Where is she?" Ruby whined, swinging her bag in circles. "She said she was 'busy'. Is she avoiding us?"
Monna scrolled aggressively through her phone. "Maybe she's sleeping? Or gaming? We should just drag her to karaoke. I need to sing, or I'm going to explode."
Lynn adjusted her glasses, peering down the street. "She usually hangs out near the arcade on her days off. Maybe we should check Godfinger? She might be there again."
They turned the corner near Coff Cafe, ready to march to the arcade.
"Wait," Monna stopped dead, grabbing Ruby's arm so hard she almost tripped. "Do you see that?"
She pointed a shaking finger at a table under a parasol.
"Is that... a shark tail?" Ruby squinted against the sun. "It is! It's Ellen!"
"Who is she with?" Lynn asked, leaning forward, her journalist instincts kicking in. "She's sitting with someone."
"Yeah," Monna whispered, her eyes widening behind her bangs. "Look at him. He's wearing a tracksuit. And they're drinking coffee together. They must hangout."
The three friends exchanged glances. A collective, silent scream went through the group.
"Code Red!" Ruby hissed. "Ellen is with a boy! Hide! NOW!"
They dove behind a large decorative planter near the newsstand, three heads stacking vertically to spy on the scene like a totem pole of gossip.
***
They sat at a small round metal table under a parasol outside Coff Cafe. It was a prime spot for people-watching, but neither of them seemed interested in the crowd.
Ellen had ordered a "Mochaccino".
Cedric sat opposite her with a glass of plain iced water.
Ellen took a long sip of her drink, humming happily as the sugar hit her bloodstream. She licked a bit of foam from her lip, her eyes half-closed in contentment.
"So," she said, pointing her straw at his glass. "You really drink water at a cafe? You're so boring. Life is bitter enough, why drink boring water?"
"Hydration is essential," Cedric replied, watching the condensation bead on his glass. "Sugar causes energy crashes. Caffeine causes jitters. And water is... water."
"Sugar causes happiness," Ellen corrected. "And sleepiness. Which is the ultimate goal."
A light breeze blew through Sixth Street. It was refreshing, cutting through the afternoon heat.
However, for Cedric, it was a nuisance.
His long, untamed black hair was loose today. He had forgotten the ribbon at home in his haste to escape Belle's fashion intervention.
The wind whipped a thick strand of hair across his face. He brushed it away annoyed.
He picked up his water glass to take a drink. The wind blew again, stronger this time. His heavy bangs flopped forward, the ends dipping dangerously close to the surface of the water.
"Tsk," Cedric made a noise of irritation.
He tried to tuck the hair behind his ear, but the strands were too silky and heavy; they slid right back out, covering his eye like a curtain.
He tilted his head awkwardly, trying to drink from the side of the glass without eating his own hair. It was a losing battle.
Ellen was watching him over the rim of her cup. She watched him struggle for a full minute, her expression shifting from boredom to mild amusement, and finally to a sort of twitchy irritation.
"You know," she drawled, setting her cup down with a clack. "Watching you drink water is exhausting. You look like you're fighting a squid."
"I forgot my ribbon," Cedric muttered, brushing his bangs out of his eyes for the tenth time.
Ellen rolled her eyes. She reached into the pocket of her loose shorts.
"Ugh. Just... here. Hold still."
She pulled out a spare hair clip. It was black, shaped like a small, jagged shark jaw.
Before Cedric could process what was happening, Ellen leaned forward.
She didn't just reach across; she really leaned in, her torso crossing the small table, invading his personal space completely.
Cedric stiffened. He flinched slightly, pressing his back against the chair, his eyes widening.
A sudden scent hit him—not the coffee, but something sweeter. Strawberry lollipop. Sugar. And a faint, refreshing briny scent of the ocean.
"Don't move," she ordered, her voice right in front of his face.
Her hand reached up. Her fingers brushed against his forehead—cool and callous-tipped from holding a weapon (or a joystick).
She gathered his messy bangs. She swept the heavy curtain of black hair up and to the side with surprising gentleness.
Click.
She snapped the black clip into place, securing his hair away from his face.
"There," she said, her hand still lingering near his temple for a fraction of a second to adjust the grip. "Problem sol—"
She stopped.
With the hair pulled back, Cedric's face was completely exposed to the afternoon sun.
Ellen found herself staring.
Without the gloom and the shadows, he looked... different.
His skin was pale and flawless. His cheekbones were high and sharp, giving him a delicate, almost aristocratic look.
His deep purple eyes, usually half-hidden and dull, were now fully visible. They were framed by long, dark lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks. They weren't dead; they were just quiet.
He didn't look like the weird arcade guy. He looked... unexpectedly soft. Like a porcelain doll that someone had dressed in a cheap tracksuit.
'Oh,' Ellen thought, her brain stalling for a microsecond. 'He actually has a face. And it's...'
She didn't finish the thought.
She suddenly realized her hand was still hovering near his temple. She realized she was leaning over the table, just inches away from him.
She could see the flecks of violet in his irises. She could feel the warmth radiating from him.
It felt suddenly... intimate. Too intimate.
A faint, subtle pink tint dusted her cheeks. It wasn't a full blush, but a flicker of self-consciousness that was rare for her.
She slowly retracted her hand, clearing her throat quietly. She sat back in her chair, breaking the eye contact and looking down at her drink.
"Yeah," she mumbled, swirling her straw a bit aimlessly. "That works. It's... better. You can see now."
Cedric blinked, touching the clip. "Is it secure?"
"It's fine," Ellen said, keeping her gaze strictly on the street traffic. "Just... drink your water."
She took a sip of her coffee, trying to look bored, but she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs the other way.
Just around the corner of the cafe, behind a large decorative planter.
***
Three heads were stacked vertically, peeking through the leaves like a totem pole of gossip.
"OH. MY. GOD." Ruby squeaked, clutching her cheeks with both hands to keep from screaming. "Did you see that?! The lean! The touch! She groomed him!"
Monna was squinting, analyzing the scene like a hawk.
"Ellen is acting weird. She's avoiding eye contact. She only does that when she's actually embarrassed."
Lynn adjusted her glasses, zooming in with her phone camera.
"And look at him! Who knew he was that handsome under the mop? I approve of this visual upgrade. They look like a romcom manga couple."
"He's wearing all black. She's wearing black. It's meant to be!" Ruby whispered. "We should go say hi!"
"No!" Monna hissed, pulling Ruby back by the collar.
"Are you crazy? Look at Ellen's tail under the table! It's stiff! She's flustered! If we go out there now, she will eat us alive. We stay hidden, observe and ship."
The three girls huddled together, giggling and snapping photos of the "couple" from their sniper nest, already composing the group chat messages that would ruin Ellen's peaceful morning tomorrow.
***
Back at the table, the silence wasn't heavy anymore. It was just a little awkward, vibrating with the static of the "hair clip incident."
Cedric sipped his water, unbothered. He reached up and touched the black clip. It held his heavy bangs back perfectly. It was efficient. Practical. The water tasted significantly better without strands of keratin dipping into it.
Opposite him, Ellen was slowly regaining her composure. The [Aromatherapy] scent radiating from Cedric—a cool mix of mint and herb—was doing its job. It was hard to stay tense when the air smelled like a spa.
She tapped her fingers against the metal table, eager to change the subject.
"So," she said, her voice regaining its usual drawl.
Cedric checked the date on his phone screen. His eyebrows knitted together slightly.
"26 days," he murmured, his voice heavy with a sense of impending doom.
"Hm?" Ellen looked up, blinking. "What's in 26 days?"
"School," Cedric said gloomily. "Semester starts."
Ellen groaned, a long, soulful sound of misery. She let her head fall back against the top of the chair, staring at the underside of the parasol.
"Ugh. Don't say the 'S' word. My summer freedom is evaporating. I have so much sleep to catch up on before the grind starts again."
She lifted her head, looking at him with genuine curiosity. She realized she didn't actually know anything about him other than his gaming skills and his weird luck.
"Wait," she asked, swirling her straw. "So you actually go to school? I thought you were... I don't know, a NEET?"
"I am a student," Cedric corrected, slightly offended. "Technically. I have papers."
"Oh? Where do you go? Some private cram school?"
"New Eridu High," Cedric replied.
Ellen's eyebrows shot up. Her red eyes widened.
"Seriously? That's my school."
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, scanning him with a new interest.
"I haven't seen you around campus. You're hard to miss... well, actually, you're probably very easy to miss if you wear black and hide in corners."
"I am new," Cedric said. "Year 1. Transferring in."
A slow, lazy smirk spread across Ellen's face. The awkwardness from before vanished, replaced by a sudden sense of hierarchy. She sat up straighter.
"Year 2," she said, pointing to herself with her thumb. "That makes me your Senpai. Lucky you."
Cedric blinked. "Senpai?"
"Yeah. Upperclassman. The one you have to show respect to," she teased, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Maybe buy me bread at lunch if I'm too lazy to walk to the cafeteria."
"Illogical," Cedric countered flatly. "You have legs. And a tail. Your mobility is superior."
Ellen laughed, a short, sharp sound.
"You're fun to tease. But seriously, rookie, listen up. Since you're my kouhai, I'll give you a piece of free advice. Vital survival intelligence."
She pointed her spoon at him like a baton of authority.
"The gym teacher," she said darkly. "Mr. Pan. He's a Panda Thiren."
"Panda?" Cedric imagined a slow, bamboo-eating creature. "Sounds... harmless."
"That's the trap!" Ellen slammed her hand on the table lightly.
"He looks cute. He looks fluffy. But he is a demon wrapped in fur. He believes in 'Youth' and 'Spirit' and 'Sweat'."
She shuddered dramatically.
"He makes us run marathons until we see the light at the end of the tunnel. If you want to survive his class with your sanity intact, you need a strategy."
She leaned in, whispering like she was sharing a cheat code.
"Fake a cramp on day one. Establish a history of 'weak ankles'. If you sell it well enough, he lets you sit on the bleachers and keep score."
Cedric nodded solemnly, taking mental notes. This was valuable data.
"Fake cramp. Weak ankles. Avoid 'Spirit'. Understood."
"Good boy," she smirked. "You learn fast."
They finished their drinks in a comfortable silence. The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting long shadows across Sixth Street.
"Alright," Ellen said, standing up and stretching her arms over her head.
"Break's over. I gotta go before my actual job calls me and screams."
She grabbed her bag from the ground. As she turned to leave, she spun a little too fast in her haste.
Her massive, heavy shark tail swung around like a baseball bat.
Swish.
It was heading straight for Cedric's empty glass water cup on the edge of the table.
Cedric react instantly.
[Skill Activated: Focus Energy]
His hand shot out. It was a blur of motion.
With his left hand, he caught the glass mid-air before it could tip. With his right hand, he reached out and gently patted the side of her tail, absorbing the momentum with a soft thud.
It felt smooth, muscular, and cool to the touch.F
"Tail," he said simply, placing the glass back on the table. "Watch your hitbox."
Ellen froze. She stopped mid-step.
She looked back at him. She looked at his hand, which had just touched her tail.
Usually, if someone touched her tail without permission, she would bite them. It was sensitive. It was a weapon. It wasn't a pet.
But his touch had been... stabilizing. Protective. Not grabby.
Then she looked at his face—still exposed by her shark clip.
A small, genuine smirk returned to her lips.
"Not bad, Cedric," she said. "Reflexes are solid. Keep the clip. You need it more than I do."
She turned fully to leave. But as she took a step, her tail curled back on its own accord.
Pap.
The flat side of her tail fin lightly slapped Cedric's cheek.
It wasn't hard enough to hurt—it was barely a tap—but it was firm enough to turn his head slightly.
Cedric blinked, holding his cheek. He looked at her, confused. "Why you hit me?"
Ellen looked back over her shoulder, her red eyes glinting with mischief and a distinct hint of warning.
"Don't get any ideas," she said coolly. "Next time? Don't touch without asking."
She swished her tail demonstratively.
"A Shark Thiren's tail isn't for petting. It's not something just anyone can handle. Remember that, my kouhai."
"Understood," Cedric replied, rubbing his cheek. "High-value asset."
Ellen turned to walk away, but then paused again after a few steps. She looked back at him.
"Oh, and hey," she noted, her tone casual but her eyes lingering on him. "You haven't been to Godfinger lately."
"I checked the leaderboards," she continued, leaning on one leg. "I have no one to play with for days. It's boring playing against scrubs."
Cedric blinked. "I was... training."
"Well, come back soon." Ellen said. "I need a real opponent. Don't leave me hanging."
She waved over her shoulder and walked away, her red sneakers scuffing the pavement. "See ya."
Cedric watched her go until she disappeared around the corner. He touched the red shark fin in his hair, then the spot on his cheek where her tail had slapped him.
***
From the bushes, three heads popped up again, leaves stuck in their hair.
"Did she just... tail-slap him?!" Ruby whispered, scandalized, clutching her chest as if she had witnessed a crime. "On a first date?! Is that allowed? Is that shark courting behavior or assault?"
Monna pushed up her glasses, the lenses flashing ominously in the sunlight. She pulled out a small notebook.
"That wasn't a slap, you amateur," Monna corrected, scribbling furiously.
"Analyze the velocity. It was slow. Controlled. And look at the point of impact—the cheek. Not the nose, not the solar plexus. That wasn't an attack."
She tapped her pen against the paper.
"That was a 'Love Tap'. In Thiren body language, specifically the Apex Predator dialect, that translates roughly to: 'You are mine now, do not struggle.' She is marking her territory."
"Lynn was frantically tapping on her phone screen, reviewing the burst-mode photos she had just taken.
"I got it," she breathed, showing them the screen.
"Look at frame 42. The way her fin squishes his cheek. And frame 43: The smirk. She's smirking! Ellen never smirks like that unless she's found a limited edition snack... or a person she likes."
"He's the chosen one," Ruby declared solemnly. "The Gloomy Prince has tamed the Shark."
"We need to find out his name," Monna planned, narrowing her eyes at Cedric's retreating back.
"His class. His blood type. And most importantly... what shampoo he uses. Ellen looked like she wanted to eat him. And of course, in a non-cannibalistic way."
The three girls nodded in unison, sealing a silent pact to investigate the mysterious "Prince" the moment school started.
Unaware that he had just become the target of a high-school investigation squad, Cedric sighed, finishing his water.
"School..." he whispered to the empty glass. "Might be troublesome."
…
…
…
Cedric returned to the video store. The "Open" sign was still up, but the shop was quiet.
Wise was leaning against the counter, reading a book. She looked up as the bell chimed.
"Welcome back," she said, her voice warm. She noticed the rugged phone case in his hand, and then her eyes drifted up.
She saw the black shark-jaw clip holding back his bangs.
Her eyebrows raised slightly, a knowing smile touching her lips. "New accessory? It's very... distinct."
"A necessity," Cedric replied, touching the clip. "Wind protection. It was a gift."
"A gift from a friend?" Wise asked gently.
"A Senpai," Cedric corrected. "She likes sharks."
He walked around the counter to where his "family" was waiting. The Walkman had stopped playing.
The blue incubator was glowing with a soft, steady rhythm. 18 was standing guard next to it, looking very serious.
"They enjoyed the music," Wise reported. "The blue one was swaying the whole time. It seems you have good taste in music."
Cedric checked the display.
[QUEST COMPLETE: THE CONDUCTOR]
[Reward Delivered: Passive Skill 'Rhythm Sense']
[Description: The universe moves to a hidden beat, and now, you can hear it.]
[Perfect Sync:] Actions performed in synchronization with the rhythm (breathing, moving, attacking) have their Effectiveness increased by 30% and Stamina consumption reduced by 50%.
[Beat Drop:] Allows the user to instinctively sense the "downbeat" of an incoming attack or event, granting a split-second premonition to dodge or parry.
[Harmony:] Being near the user accelerates the growth/recovery of Pokémon and allies.
He felt a ripple of satisfaction. He carefully unhooked the headphones and packed the Walkman away.
He picked up the two cylinders and clipped them back onto his belt. The weight felt reassuring against his hip.
He turned to Wise.
"Thank you, Sister," he said, his voice sincere. "For watching them. And for... the space."
Wise smiled, shaking her head. "You don't have to thank me every time, Cedric. That's what accomplices does. We watch out for each other's weird... luggage."
She reached out and fixed his collar, which had gotten rumpled by the wind.
"Go home and rest. You've had a busy morning."
"I will," he said.