Tsukino

It was a small, dark room, only illuminated by the dim light of fireflies crawling along our ceiling.

I'd taken a seat at a bar stool while I fiddled with my glass full of ice cubes. The gentle clinks had a soothing effect, almost like magic, as I waited for Tsukino to finish preparing drinks.

"We have alcohol. Are you sure you want lemonade?" she said, squeezing a lemon into a pitcher.

"Y-Yeah," I stammered. My eyes kept flickering towards the allure of her hands squeezing my favorite fruit.

"Suit yourself," she replied, deadpan as ever.

Earlier, we'd taken time to tour Borsalino's headquarters—a ramshackle office building barely holding itself together. But it still boasted basic amenities like electricity, plumbing, and gas, which were apparently rare commodities in this fantasy world.

And even in the cold dead of night, I couldn't even shiver. Something made me feel like I was already home.

Rags and pants I'd been lent were itchy through the coarse wool. But they were all just temporary until a permanent suit would be assigned to me. For now, I enjoyed my time with Yuna Tsukino in our office's private bar.

"So—where are you from?" I said to spark conversation. "In the real world I mean."

"That's private." She didn't even glance at me while stirring sugar into the pitcher.

"Ah. Were you a journalist before too though?"

"Private."

Geez. Think I've found someone even sterner than me. Usually I was the one that didn't like chatting, whether in public with strangers or even at parties. Pointless dialogue just annoyed me, but even compared to me, Tsukino came off as the no-nonsense type that wouldn't hesitate to crush a man's advances. It was a demeanor worthy of the stereotypical secretary; the sole emotions she'd expressed earlier since I arrived in this world were annoyance and boredom.

I kept pondering when a firefly landed by my hand on the counter. Glowing a dull gold, the bug was larger and brighter than real-world counterparts. Which prompted me to ask a question:

"Say," I told Tsukino, "if this building has electricity, why do these fireflies light up most of the place?"

Her response was quick. "They're called glowflies here. When someplace doesn't have electricity, they're used like lightbulbs. Most houses have an attic or crawl space where glowflies emerge from at night to eat dust."

"Neat," I said. "But that didn't answer my question."

She gave a swift stink eye before returning to stirring. "Electricity is expensive. We don't have it connected to every room here."

"Oh. Makes sense." At least she's open about non-personal questions. "It is a sorta big building. Do we work out of here?"

"Chief Borsalino will explain details during your orientation tomorrow. I'm only going to acclimate you for the night."

"It's late though. Don't you gotta go home?"

"I don't have a home. I'm just going to sleep here in a spare room like you."

Huh. Mentioning she was homeless was the first personal detail I'd heard. And she spoke in a melancholic tone. Maybe sensitive topic?

We stayed silent as Tsukino finished mixing lemonade and poured some into my glass. The clinking ice cubes hypnotized me—a cold drink I never thought I'd see again.

"Thanks," I said while she sat on a stool beside me.

Tsukino just grunted before crossing her legs. Her tight, knee-length skirt didn't grant much flexibility.

Then we both sighed.

Calm. Relaxed.

It was an atmosphere where I could imagine jazz playing in the background: a soft trumpet puffing through each note like smoke curling from an ashtray, or a piano strumming its own strings. The sort of ambiance that let you taste drinks more fully.

But when I raised the glass to my lips, I heard Tsukino mumble.

"I'm—just so tired," she said.

"Hmmm?" I looked over, and saw the face of a woman weighed down by the world. She was staring at her drink, pensive, eyes hinting at everything they'd ever seen. Listless emotions danced behind those glasses that I couldn't read. "Is everything alright, Tsukino?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing. Sorry. Let's keep our discussions professional."

"I know we just met, but if there's anything you wanna talk about, I'm here."

A neutral face turned into a scowl, and she angrily stood up. Her high-heels clanked louder than normal as she walked behind the counter to wash her glass.

Ugh. Why do women always act like this? But without knowing any of Tsukino's history, I couldn't blame her.

We spent the rest of our night in the bar with passive chatter, not learning much about each other. We'd managed to finish off the lemonade pitcher together (by together I mean me), until she made me wash all the remaining dishes.

"Let's go," Tsukino said in the doorway.

It was a long walk down a hall lit by flickering lights. At a glance, the building looked like any regular office—cubicles, large rooms, several floors—though after passing by student desks along the walls, this felt more like a repurposed school.

"Pretty big place," I told Tsukino walking beside me.

"It's nothing impressive."

"Do employees besides you sleep here?"

"Most have their own houses, and come into work in the morning. We'll be different."

Asking for details seemed tempting, but when I tried speaking, Tsukino turned a doorknob and invited me inside.

The room was spacious though mostly empty. Wide windows let in enough moonlight to reveal a former classroom—more desks along the walls, alongside an outline where a chalkboard once hung.

"Apologies." Tsukino peered towards the ceiling. "Glowflies don't come in here often."

"It's fine, there's enough light." I started searching around until I found my white futon on the floor, and sat myself. "Kinda exhausted."

"Just get rest so you don't embarrass us tomorrow."

Oh right, orientation. Dying then reincarnating had taken its toll on me. But I couldn’t help wondering how Mittens was doing, along with that girl I tried saving. How much time passed? Maybe I'd been found and cremated by now? Either way, looking to past lives would only hinder me in this world.

I watched while Tsukino strutted her way back to the doorway, glancing behind.

"There's food over by that windowsill." She pointed. "Eat. Or don't."

"Yeah, thanks. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

But the stern girl didn't say another word as she closed the door behind her and left me alone.

A silence set in. I wasn't that hungry, but I could still smell an aroma wafting around.

Probably better to not let meals waste away. I hopped off my futon and headed towards the moonlit window. Resting along the border was a plate filled with rice and mashed potatoes.

Though something felt odd.

The plate in my hand was cold to the touch, as if it'd been left out for a while now. Someone bothered making food ahead of time for me; it was pretty obvious who. But the theory made me remember a conversation I'd overheard earlier:

'No. She'll walk herself in here like the hound she is. Don't underestimate her.'

Yuna Tsukino was supposed to be waiting in the room I'd eventually wake up in. Instead, she'd arrived late. Why? Where was she? What'd make her defy Chief Borsalino?

I set my plate back down on the windowsill, and noticed the whole windowsill lacked a single speck of dust. My finger brushed nearby tables, before I saw gleaming sheens radiating up at me. The entire room had been cleaned in advance.

'Most houses have an attic or crawl space where glowflies emerge from at night to eat dust.'

'Glowflies don't come in here often.'

If glowflies weren't responsible for the missing dust, that meant Tsukino herself had gone out of her way to prepare this room. Washing the floor until it shone, dusting until everything looked new, and even cooking me a meal—all from personal volition, without even having met me yet.

Heh. I couldn't help smiling as I gobbled the first spoonful of mashed potatoes. Delicious.

A view through the window ahead let me see medieval buildings lurking just below. Moonlight outlined huts, castles, and cathedrals to the backdrop of a brilliant night sky. It'd be a whole new world that's waiting for me. But at least now I knew there were decent people living here.

Whatever the future held, it was time to begin a new life.