Emilia listened patiently to my proposal, her expression shifting from warm concern to something more hesitant, a touch apologetic. She fiddled with her cup, avoiding my gaze for a moment before looking up.
"Shamrock, that's… a very kind offer," she began gently, "and I appreciate the sentiment, truly. Especially after what happened." She sighed softly. "But I'm sorry, I don't think we can do that. We have… arrangements. People waiting for us. It wouldn't be right to just bring someone new along without notice, especially into… well, into the things I'm involved with." She gave a small, regretful smile. "But the offer for an introduction still stands! I'm sure Roswaal— the person we're staying with— could find something for you."
My heart sank slightly. A polite refusal. Back to Plan A: rely on charity and hope for the best. But the thought of just being handed off, of potentially missing the chance to be near the main players (read: Rem) right away… combined with a stubborn refusal to just accept 'no' after everything I'd been through already... it sparked that Irish defiance again.
"Hold on now," I countered, leaning forward again, trying to project earnestness instead of desperation. "Arrangements, sure, I get that. But look at what happened back there! Three thugs, then the thief… seems like trouble finds ye easy enough." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "At least let me protect ye for the rest o' the day! Just 'til ye get back safe wherever yer goin'. Call it," I improvised, grasping for a plausible angle, "call it an interview. For a bodyguard position! One-day trial. If I'm useless, ye send me packin'. If not…" I left the sentence hanging, hoping the implication was clear.
Emilia looked conflicted, clearly unsure how to handle my persistence. She opened her mouth to likely refuse again, but Puck zipped forward, hovering directly between us with an unnervingly wide, cat-like grin aimed squarely at me.
"Actually, Lia," Puck purred, his voice laced with mischievous amusement, "I think we should let him. Consider it… vetting." He flickered his gaze towards the general direction they were presumably heading. "Besides, Rem and Ram are waiting just out of the area. If our new friend here turns out to be trouble," Puck's grin widened, showing tiny, sharp teeth, "they're more than ready for a bit of 'smash and slash'. And if he's really bad? Well, Ram's fists can be quite persuasive, even without her horn." He turned his unnervingly cheerful, menacing gaze fully onto me. "Think you can handle that kind of performance review, Shamrock?"
The implication was crystal clear: step out of line, and the murder maids would handle me. I swallowed hard, suddenly acutely aware of just how out of my depth I still was, despite the minor power boost from Kan. But this was my chance.
Emilia looked from Puck's smug face to my determined (and likely slightly pale) one. She sighed again, a mix of resignation and perhaps a sliver of curiosity. "...Alright," she conceded reluctantly. "One day. A trial. But no funny business, understand? And you do exactly as I say."
"Understood," I agreed quickly, relief warring with the sudden, dawning terror of potentially facing Rem and Ram's "performance review." "Bodyguard Shamrock, reportin' for duty. Er… trial duty."
In a simple but clean room at a nearby inn, twin maids stood waiting.
One, with pink hair neatly styled, regarded the empty air where Puck's ethereal communication likely hung with sharp, narrowed eyes. Ram.
"He understands, he says," Ram stated, her voice flat, devoid of inflection but carrying an undercurrent of profound skepticism. She turned her gaze to her identical twin sister, whose blue hair framed a face currently set in an expression of polite, unwavering seriousness. "What do you think, Rem? Does this... 'Shamrock'... truly understand the situation?"
Rem nodded crisply, her posture perfect, hands clasped neatly before her."No, Nee-sama," she replied, her voice soft yet firm, carrying an edge of chilling certainty. "But he will."
The statement hung in the air, simple, absolute, and utterly menacing. Rem maintained her serious expression for another beat... and then the facade cracked.
A tiny, completely unexpected sound escaped her – a quiet snrk of suppressed amusement, quickly stifled. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, shocked at her own lapse.
Ram's head instantly swiveled towards her sister, her expression unchanging but her focus absolute."Rem," she inquired, her tone dangerously smooth. "Did you just... lose composure?"
Rem straightened instantly, the mask of polite deadliness snapping back into place, though a faint flush lingered on her cheeks."My apologies, Nee-sama. It seems... the absurdity of the situation momentarily overcame me."
Ram merely gave a slow, deliberate blink, accepting the explanation without comment, though her eyes held a knowing glint.
The vision, or imagined scene, faded, leaving me back at the café table, staring at Puck's lingering smirk. The banter, the dynamic – Ram's sharp cynicism, Rem's terrifying politeness momentarily broken by... me? Or the situation I represented? It was exactly as I knew it should be, yet experiencing it, even secondhand, felt different. Stark. Terrifyingly adorable, yes, but the undercurrent of 'we will end you if you step out of line' was deafeningly clear.
Right. I swallowed again, trying to look nonchalant. Hope I don't find out exactly how much 'crush' is involved in getting crushed by those two. Or vice versa- probably more versa than vice. Trial period. Got it. Be useful, be respectful, don't be suspicious, and definitely don't give the murder maids a reason to test their skills. Simple. Easy, even.
...Who was I kidding? This was going to be stressful as hell. But hey, free snacks first.
The walk from the café to the inn where Emilia and Puck were apparently staying was… tense. I tried my best to play the part of the 'trial bodyguard', walking slightly behind Emilia, scanning rooftops and alleyways with my newly acquired (and probably still subpar) awareness, trying to look vigilant and not like a complete tourist who'd died twice already today. Puck zipped along silently near Emilia's shoulder, occasionally flicking an unreadable glance back at me. Emilia herself seemed mostly lost in thought, likely processing the return of her insignia and the strange events of the day.
We arrived at a respectable-looking inn, not overly fancy but clean and well-kept. Emilia exchanged a few quiet words with the innkeeper, procured a key, and led us upstairs to a modest but comfortable room.
And then it hit me again. Not a vision this time, but an overwhelming wave of déjà vu, thick and specific. As Emilia unlocked the door and stepped inside, the air crackled with the exact same palpable scrutiny, the same dangerous stillness I'd felt in that mental glimpse earlier. Maybe it was the budding connection to the 'Law of Time', a faint echo repeating itself, or maybe my Sixth Sense was just screaming 'DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER!' in stereo. It felt like they had been having that exact conversation about me just moments before we walked in.
And then they just did.
Standing inside the room were the twin pillars of deadly domesticity: Rem and Ram. Identical blue and pink hair, immaculate maid uniforms, and expressions that could curdle milk at fifty paces. Ram's eyes, sharp and pink, flickered over me with dismissive assessment. Rem's blue eyes, carrying the weight of that chilling "No, but he will," met mine with polite, unwavering intensity. The combined pressure was immense.
"I'll just go change into something less conspicuous," Emilia announced, offering a slightly strained smile before disappearing into an adjacent room, leaving me effectively alone with the oni twins and the silently judging Puck.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Ram continued her silent appraisal. Rem stood perfectly still, a paragon of deadly politeness. My brain, meanwhile, was frantically trying to reconcile the sheer, terrifying killing intent radiating from them (especially Rem, remembering her capabilities) with the undeniable fact that they were also objectively adorable. The cognitive dissonance was giving me a headache.
Trying desperately to break the ice, to say something, anything to diffuse the 'we might murder you if you breathe wrong' vibe, my mouth decided to engage before my brain could apply the proper safety protocols.
"Well," I blurted out, aiming for charming self-deprecation and missing by a mile, "at least I'm not adorable and have blue hair and am somehow beautiful-" The words hung in the air, horrifyingly awkward. My eyes widened as I realized I'd basically just fixated on Rem's specific attributes while standing right in front of both twins.
-I need to shut up now. The thought screamed through my head, followed by a desperate internal prayer that neither of them owned a morningstar, or at least, hadn't brought it with them.
The silence that followed my verbal faceplant wasn't just awkward; it was glacially cold, thick enough to skate on. Ram and Rem remained perfectly still, their expressions unreadable masks. Puck, hovering near the ceiling, actually seemed to vibrate with suppressed amusement.
Then, Ram broke the stillness. Her head tilted fractionally, her sharp pink eyes narrowing slightly as she addressed her sister, her voice utterly deadpan, yet somehow managing to convey layers of dry mockery.
"Rem, Rem," she stated, mimicking a tone of dawning realization. "It seems you have acquired an... admirer." The word hung in the air, dripping with implications I didn't want to examine too closely.
Rem's reaction was immediate, though physically subtle. Her polite mask didn't slip, but her blue eyes hardened fractionally, locking onto me with an intensity that felt like it could bore holes through steel. Her voice, when she replied, was still soft, still impeccably polite, yet carried an edge that could shave ice.
"Nee-sama, Nee-sama," she responded, mirroring Ram's cadence but infusing it with a chilling certainty. "This man is surely... defiling Rem's image with his impure thoughts."
The air temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. The word 'defiling' echoed, stark and menacing. My blood ran cold. Oh god, oh god, I didn't mean it like THAT! My brain frantically backpedaled, trying to formulate an apology, an explanation, anything that wouldn't result in immediate and painful dismemberment.
This wasn't adoration they were sensing; it was impending doom. My stupid, uncontrolled compliment hadn't charmed anyone; it had apparently just tripped Rem's 'perceived threat to Nee-sama and/or general purity' alarm, which, knowing her history and capabilities, was possibly the worst alarm I could have possibly tripped short of directly insulting Roswaal.
My "trial period" was potentially about to end very, very abruptly. And painfully.
The chilling certainty in Rem's voice, the palpable drop in temperature – I braced myself. Mentally cycled through the ten-second rewind, wondering if it was fast enough to undo that particular blunder. Prepared for the worst.
And then… they started giggling.
Not loud, not boisterous, but soft, shared amusement. The menacing aura evaporated instantly, replaced by something… normal? Sisterly? Ram's lips quirked into a tiny, genuine smile, a rare sight. Rem covered her mouth lightly, her shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly, her blue eyes crinkling with mirth that completely erased the earlier iciness.
The sudden shift was disorienting, leaving me blinking in stunned confusion. Was this… a joke? Were they messing with me?
Ram straightened up, her brief smile fading back into her usual neutral expression, though the amusement lingered in her eyes. She glanced towards the closed door where Emilia had disappeared.
"Well," she commented dryly, her gaze flicking back to me for a moment, "at least Rem is finally getting the attention she deserves." She gave Rem a subtle, almost teasing look, which Rem met with a slight, embarrassed flush. Ram then turned and walked smoothly towards the bathroom door adjacent to Emilia's room. "Emilia-sama," she called out, her voice reverting to its polite, formal tone. "Is anything wrong? You've been quiet."
No answer came from Emilia's room. Just silence. Ram paused, her hand hovering near the bathroom door handle. Rem tensed slightly, her earlier amusement vanishing, replaced by attentive concern. Puck, who had been enjoying the show from the ceiling, drifted lower, his expression suddenly alert.
A prickle of unease ran down my spine. The Sixth Sense perk, dormant until now, flared faintly, a vague premonition of danger, unfocused but undeniable. Something was wrong.
Before Ram could knock, before anyone could react further—
BOOM!
The sound wasn't just loud; it was concussive. It slammed through the inn, rattling the very walls of the room. It didn't come from Emilia's room, but from somewhere deeper within the building, maybe the floor below, or even outside. Dust sifted down from the ceiling. The playful atmosphere vanished instantly, replaced by shocked silence, then immediate, sharp tension.
My hand instinctively flew to the Estus Flask at my hip, the other clenching into a fist. Rem and Ram snapped into combat-ready stances, years of training evident in their fluid, instantaneous reactions. Puck zipped towards the window, peering out cautiously.
Chaos, it seemed, wasn't done with Shamrock Starson's first day just yet.