The World Is Crying Out for Love

As far as origami on a material I wasn’t familiar with went, the result wasn’t half bad.

A lotus flower. I was certainly rusty, but not hopeless. 

Second year of college turned out to be more important than I thought. A three-month venture in the arts-and-crafts club (in the vain hope of reliving my childhood) before inevitably stopping to focus on exams was paying back dividends!

More relevantly, I was on the cusp of a unique product!

The ensuing reaction was expected, but it didn’t come from Piper.

“That doesn’t look like a Moonbox to me.” The beastkin boy paused for dramatic effect, jabbing an elbow to the human boy sitting next to him. “Johann, does that look like a Moonbox to you?”

“I can’t say I am familiar with this particular configuration. Maybe our Crystal prodigy can show us where the coins are supposed to fit?”

“Or how it’s meant to earn us any,” the salamander added, flicking a chip of wood off his sleeve.

“Seems a little unfair to me that we are stuck doing the same product over and over again, and here he is without any care for consequences.”

Piper, who’d apparently missed the build-up, finally stepped in. “Relax. It only took him ten minutes. He can bang out another Moonbox in no time, don’t worry.”

The salamander frowned. “Why do you always feel the need to defend this guy?”

“I don’t know… maybe because he just clawed his way out of almost certain death?”

“I’m not talking about now. I mean even before he got the Chills.”

That made me pause. As much as it loathed me to say, he made a good point. What did I ever give her that made her stick around? I sounded unlikeable back then.

Piper’s eyelids dipped, ready to say more, but Mother Martha’s brisk steps cut her off.

…

Mother Martha?!

This was the hardest I gulped. I really didn’t want to betray her trust, especially for someone who gave this orphanage her all. It was not an especially conscious effort to make the lotus, after all.

She stopped by my side, fingers hovering over the paper lotus like it was about to bite her. Confusion flickered across her face, quickly eclipsed by something sharper.

“Where did you learn this?” Mother Martha’s voice was low. “More importantly, what prompted you to do such a thing?”

“Ooooh,” the salamander-like crooned. "Cot-boy’s in trouble~”

“Pipe down, Koval’zee,” Martha snapped. “Else I give you something to truly cry about.”

“Human-on-beastkin violence! In the year 879?! I feel targeted! I thought East Gate had moved on from its nasty racial history!”

Johann snorted. “Shut up, man.”

Throughout all of this, my mind shut down.

How do you explain something like this?

That I was from another world? That I had real experience on how these things worked in said other world?

“Never mind that,” Martha snapped. “I gave you clear instructions, Cotter. And the first thing you do is decide they don’t apply to you? After everything—you still think you’re above the rules?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “I understand, Martha, and I’m truly sorry. But don’t you see what I see? This lotus was easier to make. It took half the time and used fewer materials—”

“And it’s not what you were asked to make.” Her voice was clipped. “You can be ‘unique’ whenever you want but this is not the time and place for it. We sell Moonboxes because people want them, and it’s how we can best appease the Crown. Not... whatever this is.”

“But that’s exactly why it could work!” I pushed. “It’s different. It stands out. People will notice it. And if it’s faster to make—”

“Spare me.” She turned her back to me with quiet finality. “These are the worst excuses I’ve ever heard, Cotter. And frankly, I’m tired of hearing them.”

I flinched.

But I couldn’t back down now.

“The Moonboxes are not good enough to sell!” I blurted. “People are going to die through winter if we don’t change something!”

…

Silence settled on my side of the courtyard soon enough.

Martha’s expression shifted from disappointment to open anger.

“You think the crown gives us coin at their expense for free?” Martha’s shoulders sagged. “In our contract with them, we have to show that we’re contributing to East Gate’s economy. And Moonboxes, not bowls or spoons or whatever else, are by far our most successful output. We only get two days to make our product before we send you to the stables and royal kennels for the rest of the week. That work is not enough, so we need a guaranteed source of additional income.”

I was getting frustrated now. “But as we know, the additional income isn’t enough. Some of us aren’t getting enough food. Some kids are getting by with the bare minimum. But most importantly, we don’t have enough money to renovate and improve the building’s securities, which made what happened to me even possible!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Then why keep doing it if you know it doesn’t work?” I asked. “Isn’t that worse?”

“Because it’s all I know how to do!”

Martha stood there for a while, only to breathe. Soon… she swallowed.

Martha took the letter given to her earlier from her pocket and unfolded the page.

“According to this letter, the king can’t justify keeping this orphanage open. That in addition to being a danger to the city, we’re a tax sinkhole.”

There was a sharp gasp from the upper walkway. One of the nuns leaned over the railing. “Mother Martha, you have to be joking.”

Martha held out the page. 

The nun hurried down and took it. Her lips tightened as she scanned it. “We were going to ask them for more help... and now they pull this? This orphanage is only a danger to the city because they don’t put any guards outside to protect us!”

Martha closed her eyes. “I think the truth’s much more benign than we’d like to believe. Conspiracies bring comfort… compared to the horror of sheer complacency.”

Throughout all this, I felt like a deer caught in headlines. Here I was, thinking a new product and a new design would be enough to save us all.

But when the world’s rooting for your downfall, no product—not even the best—can keep you afloat.

I needed a better plan.

“We have orders to fill,” Martha said as her voice shook. “Follow the rules, Cotter. Can you do that for me?”

I clenched my jaw.

It was then we heard an out-of-breath and panicked voice. “MOTHER MARTHA!”

We both whipped our heads toward the intrusion.

It was another nun—one I didn't recognize. She looked like she’d sprinted the whole way, sweat clinging to her veil.

“What troubles you, Mistress Lily?” Martha asked.

“The guards… the guards are coming!”

...Shit.

Martha paled. “What? I told them the inspection wasn’t until next week!”

“They didn’t care,” Lily said, still catching her breath. “They just walked right in. Said they needed a raw, ‘unfiltered’ look at the premises.”

In any other world, I might’ve agreed with the principle.

But after everything I’d seen of East Gate’s law enforcement?

This was just a blatant misuse of power.

“ALRIGHT, what do we have here?!”

The voice was male and he sounded like he was clearly itching for a fight! Three guards stepped inside, boots muddy and with expressions to match.

One of them I recognized immediately—he’d been there during yesterday’s incident at the gates, when the adventurers and us kids tried to enter East Gate.

Oh no.

The smile in his eyes all but confirmed it. 

He was looking for revenge!