Educated devil's advocate

Natasha and Karaza were walking in another neighborhood she didn't know.

The breeze ruffled their casual clothes. Something felt unusually eerie, even the cool breeze.

They sat in an outdoor café and Natasha took the first bite of her parfait. She seemed to enjoy her time, although a part of her was on edge, alerted.

Karaza sipped her orange juice while watching people walk in the streets.

'I'm picking up less sound waves then usual here.'

She looked at Natasha again, which prompted her to start a small talk, asking the older what's her favorite food.

"My favorite is hamburger helper. Mom makes it the best. Is there anything you like the most?"

"Not really, as long as it's edible. And all foods here are good." She realized how boring her answer sound.

"I see, so..food outside isn't good? I thought they have more food than us outside."

"Maybe, but here's better variety. I get to try more things, many cuisines here."

"Yup."

'Speaking of variety, this street seems off.'

Natasha's repeated scanning glances prodded Karaza to examine the eerie feeling she pushed to the back of her mind.

She looked at the street, it has benches, three faucets station for water, quenchy and cola. The hexagonal self service podium next to them. A bunch of local shops. A typical street in Ad mare city if not for couple differences.

There were three clock-poles, plus the lack of side walk space.

'Side walks are much wider everywhere else. They usually fit extra benches and food stands and there still place for people to sit on the ground and eat.'

She recalled what her trusty smoking buddy told her once about the importance of side walks in the city, since many sick or injured people need to rest while they're out and about. Plus the land's magnetic field makes newcomers dizzy, especially when taking transportation.

A small detail like this made this neighborhood feel isolated, plus more clock-poles meant more surveillance. Another not so small detail was the lack of newcomers or freshly injured people walking here.

It was a daily occurrence to see someone lost, or lost in their hexagono or walking in thick bandages or speaking broken Sadi. This street felt like it wasn't inside the land of the unwanted in some sense.

' Make sense to do spy training in this street.'

"It's fine to take longer scanning looks, it's better than frequent quick glances sometimes."

Natasha didn't reply, just leaning in with a hum like she didn't hear what her friend said. Her training kicked in.

"Don't worry, no one can hear us. It's my wish and whatnot."

Natasha gave her a raised eyebrow.

"Try and scream, no one can hear us."

And Natasha did so, but sound waves were muffled indeed. Like they were erased before reaching anyone's ears.

"Am I obvious?" She asked.

"Not for the untrained. But you seem on edge to anyone who knows you."

Karaza sipped her juice while watching the passing, Natasha got the signal and tried to mimic her quieter observations.

After the café they were in a clothing shop. The younger started wrapping her head around the idea of noticing minute details while seeming relaxed by the virtue of not letting too much focus disrupt her normal demeanor.

What the older tried to teach wasn't an accurate institutional training but rather an experience born familiar behavior. It was more exhausting than she made it to look.

"You can use your wish for better spying." Karaza told after paying for a dress with skulls embroidered on it.

"How?"

"That's for you to figure out."

"No hint?" She wasn't even trying to make puppy eyes, her kind big eyes did all the work.

"...Rice grain."

"Huh?"

They walked near the beach to end the day.

"Well, thank you for today...And sorry to drag you out in my training."

"I don't mind."

Natasha was able to appreciate the warmth behind the laconic sentence.

"You're a great friend! See ya!"

Karaza stood there, confused like usual.

'We're friends?!'

Couple days later she swallowed the urge to ask her smoking buddy about the eerie street, he was still see through even when he was in flesh, and it seems like one of his patients was in critical condition.

'This is a rough job, you have to swallow your problems to help others...'

As she was thinking how to cheer him up she saw the apex predator walking to them. She was about to freakout before remembering he's quite a calm person.

"There you are, this is from your rival." He gave her a bento with the respectful manners toward an older person.

"You mean my archenemies?" Karaza said at the sight of the overly cutesy box and napkin.

"Tometo tomato. She says thank you for taking care of Natasha."

He turns to his brother, casually handing him a bag from a bakery.

"Ooo, fruit tarts." The older man smiles.

'An apex predator turned errand boy, life is hard.'

"Don't be sad, you'll frown then you'll get wrinkles then nobody will merry you. Oh wait, you're already a spinster." He trolls before walking away.

"My little brother is a cat- Oh, these always sold out." He picked the fruit tart. The almost mean quirk cheered him up.

'Well felines are distant cousins to the blobs, though he's acting like a normal dude. Always allergic to being nice to one another.'

She thought while looking at the suspicious bento in her lap.

She read the note on it saying.

'Poisoned!! Could be laxative, could be arsenic! Take a bite to find out. xoxo :P '

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

They ate in smooth comfort til his medical hexagono floated out of his pocket, vibrating.

"You have to go?"

"No, just test results."

She studied his complicated expression and the spot of blood in his scrub.

"You know..having blood on one's clothes isn't a good sign. Except for this.." She pointed at the medical scrubs with her eyes, realizing how distorted that sentence was. But he got it.

"Thanks." He said with a soft faint smile, unlike his usual carefully calculated one.

She gave him stiff pats on the shoulder for a good measure, exactly three time.

"Odd numbers freaks me out..." He said hesitantly, she didn't knew such words could be in the same sentence.

"What?"

"You patted me three times."

She gave him another pat, not sure what odd numbers actually are.

"There, you have four pats now..."

'Four isn't odd is it? It seems like a normal number.'

"One is an odd number!" He freaked out.

"You know what!" She gave him two smacks on the back, they didn't actually hurt.

"Bell peppers are spicy, odd numbers are scary, what's next? Brown sugar is bitter?!"

"...It kinda is..." He stated. They looked dumbfounded at each other before he burst out laughing.

"You know me well." He managed between laughs.

Eventually his break really ended, and she had to gave the lunch back to its owner.

'Ain't going to her territory, I'm just gonna beg someone from the warehouse to give it to her.'

"Not looking so good, arch nemesis!" The figure in sparkly boots with skulls announced.

"...You cunt!" Karaza hid her purple lips behind her hand.

"Don't make a fuss kids." Yasmin told when she passed by them to the way to the warehouse. "Wait what's with you two." She said looking at their purple mouths.

"I found purple food coloring on sale~" Roxy showed her tongue.

"...Cool." Yasmin walked away like any respectable tired adult.

The parasite prodded with a faint unreadable smile as the human looked her with cation mixed with the urge to ask a risky question.

"Oh, that street is called the mill, the neighborhood called the flour mill." Rosy said as they sat on a small café sharing a chocolate lava cake. She spook freely as her companion disallowed the sound waves from spreading.

"In the government we call them both 184 street. Its new name after the incident." She added before taking a bite.

Karaza's eyebrows curled in a frown.

"Would knowing about it get me in trouble?"

"Not really, it happened before I was born. We studied it in history classes." She told after swallowing.

Karaza's prepared silence was the sign that made her continue.

"Well due to the nature of the land and the diverse of backgrounds of its people conflicts between groups isn't unusual. Past injustice and micro misunderstandings can be a troublesome combo." Roxanne told flatly, almost as if she's reading from a textbook.

"But what happened in 184 street was fundamentally dangerous to the core of the land." Her detached, apathetic tone added an unanticipated dread to the sentence.

She leaned forward on her chair with a whimsy smile. Face in her balm.

"Now lets know how much progress you made in your 'proper citizen' path."

Karaza face formed the most serious prepared expression, not reading the whimsy tone of what's coming.

"How's the birth rates these days?" Roxy asked.

"Gradually declining as they were for the last years." She spatted quickly like her life depends on it.

"He He ~ Did your homework didn't ya."

"Homework? The school thing? I don't go there so I don't do that."

"...Chillax~ it's a common phrase, I'm playing." The human's near panic urged her to explain.

" I see..."

"Humph! You ruined the fun so I won't tell you." Roxy pouted, looking away in a dramatically hurt expression.

The human sat there, whiplashed. She chose the safe route and stayed silent, taking a shy bite of the cake.

"You should've said 'Noo please tell meeee'" The parasite whispered, like she's helping a classmate stuck on a tough question.

Said classmate was a lost cause though.

"You're surprisingly no fun when it comes to human matters." Roxy leaned backward, unamused.

"I hope you do the same with your own kind, although if there's a whole specie like you we're doomed."

"Lucky for you I'm one of a kind." Roxy bragged, chiming with the last sentence and brushing off the first simultaneously.

Karaza was too focused on the incident to humor her and the parasite knows how to read the room.

"Well you know the gist, this land runs on newcomers but the land of the unwanted isn't a newly established anymore, humans stayed here and procreated, with me so far?"

The human nodded.

" Now you know the many newborns are born with adhesions and such, or born mutant like this body and you, or with a birth mark or other skin conditions. Or they grow up and turns out their infertile."

"Essentially what people outside call 'unwanted'."

"Exactly. As expected from you, archenemies."

"Now what happen when a people live here for three generations and they're all healthy and fertile?"

Karaza took a minute, not liking where her thought process is going.

"They start feel better than everyone else?"

"You're on the right track, and what you humans do when y'all feel that way?"

"...We call people slurs and treat them unfairly--"

She paused, hoping the answer is satisfactory and she doesn't need to complete it.

"And?" The parasite crushed her hope.

"We start killing each other." He gaze darkened.

"Bingo! But it was more than that. After massacring many on that street they unjustly established the 184 constitution, claiming this land theirs sense they lived here for three generations, therefor they planned to expel all the unwanted from the land." Once again the monotone detached voice of hers added more dread than intended.

Karaza took a long deep sigh. Forcing a bite from the cake as if it will wash the bad taste of the conversation.

Roxanne smiled, one full of sarcasm even the dense human clocked it.

"You gave them safety and shelter and everything, then their offspring go and kill you."

"Classic fucking humans." Karaza smiled with bitter sarcasm.

In the silence Roxy went back to her nonchalantness, pouring raspberry sauce on the remaining cake til Karaza cut her off.

"So that's the textbook version, does the truth match?"

"Why so sure I know~"

"Five stake dinners on me."

"You sly dog. Give me time to ask my sources."

"You don't know?"

"I hate to break it to you but I don't care enough about humans' affairs to dig truths." She added with a stupid grin.

"You can get your wanted information quicker if~"

"Take your time, I'm not paying ten dinners for you." She deadpanned.

"Mean!"

As they parted ways the human looked at the comfortable, peaceful, relaxed despite food shortage land.

'So it's the same everywhere...There's always skeletons in the closet.'