Cielo Verde

I held my breath as I stepped outside the office and into sunlight for the first time. The warmth of the cold morning (an oxymoron, yes), helped remind me that I really was in another world now.

"What's wrong, Aizawa?" Tsukino ahead said. She pushed up her glasses and sent me another stink eye.

"Just—feels surreal," I said, glancing towards the sun. "Just a day ago I died but I'm already walking around like nothing ever happened."

"It could've been more than one day by now. No one knows how long the Nameless Goddess held us in purgatory."

"How long ago did you die?"

But as expected, she ignored the personal question and continued hiking forward towards town. I followed behind.

Wow, look at all this. I'm basically stepping back in time. Like Borsalino said, this was a Medieval European world. The road entering town—a winding strip of cobblestone flanked by timber palisades—led past a lopsided gatehouse with knights stationed inside. I saw their groggy eyes flickering shut as I paced by, like they'd stayed up the whole night.

"Does this place have a name?" I asked Tsukino, walking beside me.

"Cielo Verde. Most cities in Sin Nombre are named after local folklore."

"Cielo Verde—I think that's Spanish for 'green sky'. Looks like a normal blue sky here though?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's just an old legend that the sky turned green sometimes."

"Ah." Well not like I care much. But learning about this world I reincarnated into seemed pertinent; feeling confused forever wouldn't help me.

Wooden wagons and their squeaky wheels strolled beside us as we entered the bustling part of town. Crowds pulsed towards a bazaar, where colorful outdoor booths competed for attention. I saw a meat stall with a butcher chopping up pigs, before he rinsed his hands in an old basin. Another booth sold flowers, one had herbs, while across were old farmers giving out free carrots just to bring groups over.

As we ventured farther in, I noticed people peering over their shoulder at me. Cautious eyes, curious faces, even confused scoffs tracked us wherever we went, like everyone knew we were outsiders.

Then I looked down at my clothes.

"Hey," I told Tsukino. "Don't these trench coats make us stand out?"

She shrugged. "We're journalists, not spies."

"Yeah well, might be hard being in the background if we always stick out."

"You get used to it."

Another short trek placed us inside an affluent area of town. Balconies loomed above, wrought in curled ironwork and expert masonry. Lines of oak wood homes lent an aristocratic vibe—cozy yet familiar—as the clamor of church bells echoed afar.

Doesn't seem like a bad place to live, I thought. Since it's peace time, people are just happily wandering around. Wonder how Sin Nombre's other towns will look though.

Then ahead in the distance, an outline different from other buildings appeared. Box shaped, the tall structure stood like a monolith among medieval architecture. Even from here, I could discern modern-world flare.

"That's the hospital Trixie has been staying at," Tsukino beside me said.

"Huh? Kinda looks like hospitals from the real world."

"It was built somewhat recently, yes."

The structure stood over us. A concrete building, it sported glass windows and intricate systems of air vents. Multiple floors made it easily taller than most other buildings in town. And a medical cross in front conveyed this place's purpose.

We strolled past brick walls before entering a small courtyard. Patients in old-fashioned wheelchairs were being pushed through gardens, while other folks in crutches practiced walking once more.

At the hospital's entrance stood two swordsmen clad in heavy armor. Their eyes, vigilant, observed the whole courtyard until spotting Tsukino and I approaching.

"Stop," a swordsman said. "Why are you here?"

Tsukino stepped forward. "We'd like to check on a friend named Trixie."

"Trixie?" The guard looked towards his friend, whispering with one another, before the second guard departed into the hospital. "My comrade will check with the nurses. Wait outside until then."

I still have no clue who Trixie is either . . .

Me and Tsukino ventured into the garden and sat on a bench surrounded by flowers. Large trees looming behind gave us some shade and privacy, enough that I felt comfortable yawning.

"So—what's with all that security?" I asked. "Aren't we in peace time?"

Tsukino sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's not peace. Just a ceasefire. And hospitals could be prime targets at any moment."

"Yeah, I've been wondering about that: why does this world even have hospitals when there's healing magic? What's the point of doctors?"

"Tsk. You . . . !" Her eyes narrowed into daggers; an intense stare that could kill. "Grrr. Wasn't Chief's explanation enough?"

"No?"

"Damn. It's not complicated: healing magic doesn't work unless your magical circuits work too. Even us NPC's have some. But most people that didn't reincarnate from our world don't have any circuits at all. See the issue?"

I held my chin to process things. "So, healing spells fail on native borns? They're the ones that need doctors?"

"Not just them—anyone old or spent in general. Magical circuits wear out over time, especially if you overuse them. So by the time you're around eighty-years old, chances are you won't be able to use magic or be healed anymore."

The explanation made sense. I swiveled my head around to examine the patients walking by ahead of us: an old man in a hospital gown limping with a cane, a soldier with a face full of scars, a farmer clutching his stitched arm—it all matched Tsukino's description of people who might resist healing magic.

Birds kept annoyingly chirping in branches above us while I tried thinking. If healing magic has limitations, that'd mean healing wouldn't work well on me either since I barely have magical circuits. Maybe Angel was merciful by putting me in the same boring (but safe) occupation I had in my past life.

Tsukino crossed her arms, a pensive expression taking over. "Have you realized it now?"

"Hmm? Realized what?"

"You've seen concrete, plastic, trench coats, real doctors—people from our world have been bringing over our culture, our inventions, to Sin Nombre. This world is changing and no one knows if it's for the better."

"I'd say it's good, right? We're just prompting the industrial revolution earlier."

She glanced at me. Not mad, but disappointed. "Chief Borsalino didn't tell you why the school building he bought got shut down, right?"

"He implied it was because of war."

"No. That school was a good Samaritan's failed dream—a concept they saw work in our world but didn't consider how it'd function here. Even after adventuring and saving money to build the school, they didn't guess how it'd be kept running without public funds, on top of paying for wartime security."

"There's no grants towards schools here?"

"If the church doesn't see merits in something, nothing. This is a theocracy where the king is just a figurehead; and where schools are forced to close after the owners realize their ambitions were too lofty."

Huh. The revelations were numerous, but not surprising. "Politics are a bitch in any world I guess."

Tsukino patted herself off before standing. "If you wanna survive as a journalist in Sin Nombre, you need to be skeptical of everything. Never take something at face value. Never believe something that seems too good to be true. Always doubt."

"But isn't our focus more on gossip?"

She didn't get a chance to respond.

A swordsman from earlier slowly marched towards her, boots thudding along until getting her attention.

Tsukino turned, eyes narrowed, waiting for him to speak.

"The doctor will see you now," he said.