Interloper

Intolerable! The blond-haired girl continues to be a thorn in my side! Every time I go to the bath house she peppers me with questions and clamors for my attention!

Before, I was able to drive her away by baring my teeth, but now not even that works anymore. My precious bath time! How am I supposed to relax if I can't have a bath in peace? At least she doesn't follow me into the water, but just knowing she is nearby leaves me unable to properly relax.

She believes that I am the Aiko of her past. I need to clear this misunderstanding, but I have no idea how to go about it. I have already told her more times than I can count, but either she refuses to believe me, or is too stupid to understand what I am saying.

They say desperate times call for desperate measures, but what am I supposed to do? There are no other bath houses nearby I could go to, and I have been banned from bathing in the river.

Could I wear a disguise?

---

Aiko pushed the broom carefully over the floor, collecting coffee grounds, cookie crumbs, and whatever little debris managed to get into the store, and sweeping it into a small pile. She used a small dustpan to scoop everything up and deposited it into one of the waste bins under the counter.

"Ooh, the floor is looking very nice, little miss," Giorno said, peeking over the top of his newspaper.

"Mister Giorno never cleans it." Aiko narrowed her eyes at her boss.

"Well, you know how it is. I am a busy man." Giorno shrugged, going back to his newspaper.

"Not busy. Just reading."

"Reading is important too, little miss." He showed her a picture from his newspaper. It was a blurry photo of what looked like a crowd of people panicking. In the background, in the sky, was a blurry image of a giant bird, holding a girl-shaped thing in its claws as it flapped away.

"Look, see? A few days ago, a monster appeared in the city, very big, and it stole a young girl away just like this." Giorno tapped the paper with his hands. "You need to know these things. It's, how do they say, keeping up with the times."

"Doesn't look too big." Aiko pretended to know nothing about it either way.

"Well, we saw bigger birds in Italy. A little one like this is just a lot of panic, mostly. But nobody is happy to see them. You have to be careful, I suppose, before it gets out of hand. First that cretin Yuuji tells me he is attacked by the ghosts of dogs, and now this bird." Giorno slapped the newspaper with the back of his hand. "And look! The idiot in charge of this city wants to be elected again! You see? You need to know about these things."

"Mister Giorno should sweep too."

"Later, later. The Japanese do not make themselves political enough. Always with the sweeping the floor, never with the setting fire to the parliament building."

"Fire is dangerous, Mister Giorno."

"Fire is just fire. Politicians are dangerous. Make me a coffee, little miss."

"Mister Giorno drinks too much coffee."

"I knew it was a mistake to introduce you to my wife," Giorno sighed.

Still, Aiko obediently went back behind the counter, and after packing the broom away and washing her hands, got to work making an espresso. Since she had started working here, this was mostly all she ever did. She cleaned, practiced making espresso, and talked to Giorno. Occasionally there was a customer, in which case she would deliver coffee and clean up the tables. If there were dirty dishes she cleaned those too, though there wasn't usually enough for it to be a chore.

Giorno spent most of the time reading the paper.

Aiko didn't mind, though. When she compared it to crawling through dungeons, or hiking through wraith infested demon lands, she had nothing to complain about. On the contrary, she much preferred this pace.

She filled the portafiltro and tamped the grinds down the way she'd been shown, then set the macchina to work. In almost no time at all she had a small cup of espresso sitting in its saucer, together with a paper packet of cane sugar. She dusted her hands on her apron and put the coffee in front of Giorno.

The cafe owner put his paper down and had a sip of the coffee without bothering to put the sugar in.

"Wonderful. Little miss, you have a talent for this."

Aiko bowed, and headed back into the kitchen. She had already swept the floor twice today so she would need to fill the rest of the morning some other way. She had just decided to wipe down the tables when the little bell set above the entrance chimed. They had a customer.

Putting aside her cleaning materials, Aiko walked out from behind the counter. Standing inside the door was a young woman with long caramel-colored hair, tied in a long braid down to her waist, wearing a breezy looking shirt and long skirt. She was holding a portable electric fan in one hand and was using it to keep her neck cool.

Aiko bowed. "Welcome to Giorno's Cafe. Table for one, madam?"

"Oh my! Well!" the young woman exclaimed, and grinned at Aiko. "So the rumors were true after all. It is Aiko, here in the flesh."

Giorno looked up, and upon getting a good first look at their customer, dropped his newspaper and hopped up to his feet.

"Oh! Signorina! Welcome to my cafe! Do you know our waitress? What a pretty friend you have, Aiko! Signorina, why don't you have a little coffee with me?"

"Oh? But uncle, aren't I young enough to be your daughter?" the young woman said, barely missing a beat, then smiled and batted her eyelashes.

"Gaph!" Giorno spat, as Aiko slapped him on the back of the head with his newspaper.

"Mister Giorno. No. Bad Giorno. Madam Giorno will kill you."

"Oh my!" the young woman giggled, covering her mouth.

Aiko slapped Giorno's head again.

"Gah! Is that a way to treat your boss?" he protested.

Aiko raised the newspaper threateningly and he held his hands up in surrender. "Alright! Alright! Enough already! Give me back my newspaper."

Aiko put the newspaper into Giorno's hands, and as he sulkily went back to his normal seat, she looked their customer up and down. Neither the part of her that was Mathilda nor the part that was Aiko had any idea who this was.

"Table for one?" Aiko asked again.

"Table for one," the young woman smiled. "Table for two, if you'd be so kind as to let that pathetic thing outside join us too?"

Aiko looked outside the window, and the corners of her mouth turned down. It was that blond-haired idiot girl. Koharu. She was standing on the other side of the glass with wobbly, moist, puppy-dog eyes, her hands clasped together in front of her chest.

"I don't see anybody outside," Aiko said.

"Oh my, table for one, then." The young woman giggled, and sat down at the window seat. "And I suppose I'll order as well. What do you recommend, Aiko?"

"Coffee. How do you know my name?" Aiko scowled.

"You're going to scare our customer, little miss," Giorno said from behind his newspaper.

"Quiet, Mister Giorno. I don't know if she's an enemy."

"Again with the enemies," Giorno sighed. "I have never met a young miss with so many."

"I'll have a coffee," the young woman said.

"One coffee for the lady, little miss," Giorno said.

Aiko headed back behind the counter and got to work, making sure never to take her eyes off the interloper for longer than a few seconds. When she was done, she put the little cup of espresso in front of the woman, and took a step back.

The woman took a little sip, and smiled gently. "This is really good, Aiko."

"You know my name. Why? Enemy?" Aiko narrowed her eyes.

"I'm no enemy. Well not now, though I'm a little sad you don't remember which I am. I suppose I look a little different now without the glasses. I colored my hair too, though not as much as some." She glanced outside at Koharu, who was still standing in the heat looking like she was about to cry. "I guess maybe you're doing your best to get on with life too, but even so, you really don't remember me? It's me, Rei. Honestly, you'd think that somebody would remember the person who bullied them all through high school, wouldn't you?"