In Between the Lines

“Where could I find script users?” Akari asked to discerned looks from the owner of a nearby pub. Azu was said to be a regular at the establishment, which Akari found unfitting as she had a hard time imagining him as much of the drinking type. She did, however, find the pub to be a great source of local information.

“They tend to gather around guilds, looking for work,” the owner casually answered while wiping down a glass cup. “I don’t think I’ve seen one in this village,” Akari observed with the owner confirming, “That’s because Iama isn’t sanctioned to have one. All guilds have to be authorized by the Adikos Committee on Script Usage.”

Finding her line of questioning unusual, the owner shifted his focus. “Why are so interested in script users?” he probed, “Azu made it very clear he doesn’t want you doing anything dangerous.”

Akari was long in the face, her mouth tilted to the side. “What does it matter to you anyways?”

“Medical Assistants don’t have a license to operate without their commanding doctor. I’m sure Azu doesn’t want you attempting to practice medical scripts alone.”

Akari dropped her head into the palms of her hands. The story everyone in the village had been told was that Akari was an assistant in training. After all, Azu couldn’t tell them that she was a survivor from an unexplained incident that was now being targeted by the Coordinator General. But with Azu having been away for so long, Akari was itching to make the most of her time.

“I already know about that. But it takes time to draw in clients, especially if all we do is travel around. It’ll be better if we prepare a base of operations that patients can visit when needed instead of hoping for us to enter their villages. Since script users are at the highest risk, operating near a guild would make the most sense.”

Akari’s explanation was a spur of the moment flood of words, but she prayed it to be enough for the owner to overlook her actual intentions.

“I guess I never did think about it in that way,” the owner considered with his hand massaging the back of his neck. “The nearest guild would be in the next town over, which would be good since it’s Azu could make the trip to and from there daily.”

“Hah!” Akari barked with her finger directly pointing at the owner.

Smacking his hand across his face, the owner sulked in his foolery. “I shouldn’t have answered that should I?”

Akari gave him a sadistic grin, reveling in her victory lap. The owner then snapped his finger. “I didn’t tell you which direction. You have no choice but to stay put little girl.”

Akari scoffed at the owner’s shallow thinking, mocking how he was so paper thin compared to dealing with Toyo and Kuro’s stonewalling.

“I’ll just try all directions until I find the right one.”

Realizing the bind he’d put himself in, the owner quickly folded. I’ll tell you were it is and have a carriage escort you there, if you promise to be back before nightfall.”

“Why are you all always so worried about the night?”

The owner was at a loss for words. The question was unexpected, as the dangers of the night was as common as knowing to bathe regularly.

“You do understand that the moonlight affects the flow of scripts, right?”

Feigning knowledge with her eyes roling back and forth, she replied, “I know that… but I never understood how it affected us. I mean, why can’t we just not use scripts and be fine?”

The owner ran his hand over the top of his head, unable to come up with a straightforward answer. “I’ll admit the how has never been as important as the why. But considering that Ayurs are known to not be effected, I assume that it’s a passive sorta thing. Ayurs have a special fortitude of the mind that makes it hard for them to be manipulated by psychic scripts. So, I suppose the moonlight works in similar ways… Anyways don’t be stupid and be back before then. I mean it!”

“Fine! Fine!”

Akari then held her hand out, waiting for the owner to make a move. Finding her rather annoying, he sighed heavily. “What?” he barked.

“The keys, man, come on!” she pestered.

The owner collapsed his face onto the counter, sweat beading off his rounded head top. “What the hell made Azu choose you as his assistant?” he wondered, but Akari simply stuck her tongue out at him, driving the owner deeper into despair.

Upon arriving at the guild, using a false name she placed a request for script users that could make a glass cup break without physically touching it. When the proctor requested she provide proof of payment, Akari found herself at a loss. The guild required that something be forfeited as a guarantee to ensure that a completed job would result in the script user being rightfully paid. If not the actual amount of currency, then anything that could be used as collateral would do. Unfortunately for Akari, she had neither.

With her plans dashed, Akari had no choice but to leave the guild, but upon returning to the carriage, she was surprised by a familiar face. The drunkard from the cafeteria was busy loitering around the carriage, seemingly infatuated with the animal guiding it.

“What are you doing?” Akari called out, shooing the man away. This is a stunning creature don’t you think?” the guy mused, “Just feel the quality of this mare!”

Akari was beginning to think that the man wasn’t too right in the head, and the urge to move as far away from him pushed her to inch closer and closer to hopping in the carriage and dashing off. What irked her the most, however, was the fact that the driver just sat there, completely unengaged with the man. Shitty ass minimum wage driver, Akari decried to herself as she hustled to get inside the vehicle. But she would make one fatal flaw along the way. Her eyes briefly met with the man’s, drawing his wayward attention directly towards her.

“I remember you!” he hollered.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. You were there at the cafeteria.”

Akari found his reaction unexpected. She hadn’t the slightest clue that the man, drowning in his drunken stoop, had even noticed her at all.

He darted in her direction, stumbling over his own foot as he raced to get a hold of her. “One. One request,” he begged. Akari cringed away from, her body already halfway into the carriage. Catching himself, the man readjusted his posture, brushing his shirt in a pitiful attempt to make himself appear more presentable.

“I want to paint your portrait.”

Somehow, despite the sincerity in his words, Akari simply found them man even more detracting. “I don’t have any money to pay you,” she muttered before diving deeper into the carriage.

“I’ll pay you!”

Akari popped her head through the curtain of the carriage, convinced she’d heard wrong. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll pay you.”

“Why?”

“You don’t seem to understand. Your aura, mademoiselle, is the most attractive thing I’ve ever felt. I must put it into a painting.”

Despite the creepy vibes that still laced his statement, Akari was intrigued by the offer. If she could squeeze enough money out of him, then she could use it to post the job offer with the guild. Besides, he seemed itching for the opportunity. Why do addicts always fein for stuff?

Exiting the carriage, she took the man up on his offer. The deep stench of his clothes damped in stale liquor gripped her nostrils. “What’s your name, again?”

“Mihd. My name is Mihd.”

Nearly two whole hours had passed, with Akari nodding off as Mihd crafted away. As her head tipped to the side, she suddenly jolted herself back awake, lost as her mind scrambled to get back on track. “I feel like you haven’t looked at me once since you started,” Akari quarreled.

“It’s a new method,” Mihd replied, “I call it picto-scripts.”

Exhausted with Mihd’s eccentric character, Akari stood from her seat and peered over the canvas and at the painting.

“Oh my god,” she cried, “What is this?”

Mihd held his palm out to Akari as he drew his final stroke across the canvas. “Tell me, miss, what do you see?”

Akari’s eyes were boiling with intensity. She slowly took another peek at the painting. The rendition of her was spot on. As was the rendition of Toyo standing beside her. The two of them both clad in their school uniform.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

Mihd glanced back at the canvas, a wry look creeping onto his face. “This is the first time that anyone has seen an entirely extra person.” He then turned to her with an inquisitive stare. “What does she look like?”

Akari was confused, wondering if she was the subject of a sick joke, or if the man was taunting her. Mihd caught how flustered Akari had become and moved to assuage her concern.

“This method, picto-scripting, I use scripts to create pigment and let the aura I receive from a person or thing or whatever guide my brush.”

Reaching to grab hold of her hands, Akari pulled away, stiffly replying, “That doesn’t make sense.” Mihd then dropped his hand to his sides, his energy falling calm for once.

“You see, mademoiselle, the thing is… I’m blind.”