Prota had gone into the bathroom obediently, but now that the door was closed, she didn't know what to do. She just stood there, not daring to move an inch. Looking around, she found that she couldn't identify any of the objects she was looking at. There was something with a metal spout and two handles on either side that seemed to empty into a wash basin, as well as a large tub with another sprout emptying into it, but she had no idea what either was for.
Dirty water began pooling at her feet as she stood uncomfortably, the cloak John had given her still wrapped around her body. She felt bad for staining the clean white floor, but there was nothing she could do about it.
"Hey! You ok in there?" she heard a voice call out. "Do you, uh, know how to use those things?"
She turned around and looked at the closed door. What was she supposed to say?
"Ok, I'll take that as a no. So basically, you, uh- alright, so what you're gonna do is- man, why is this so hard to explain? I'm gonna sound really- oh, wait a minute. Hey. That's a bathtub. You've taken a bath, right? Just… yeah. You know what to do?"
Prota undressed and got into the tub, shivering from the cold as she waited. Still, she didn't complain. She was like a robot, just waiting for instructions.
"Ok, now… I'm going to assume you're in the tub. Do you see the handle with the red line on it? Turn that towards you. That'll turn on hot water."
Again, she did as she was told, and true to John's word, hot water began pouring out. It was a bit too hot, but she didn't react at all. She just stood and accepted the scalding water. It wasn't like it would burn her, but most people would've given some kind of reaction.
"Oh yeah, you can turn the other handle to make it less hot! That's kind of important. That's cold water. The red one is hot water. Damn, seriously. I never thought I'd have to explain how a bath works. Who thinks of giving a bath tutorial?"
She did as she was told, and the water soon grew to a comfortable temperature. Her body sunk into the bath, feeling a little guilty. Did she deserve something like this? She almost wanted to get out and apologize to John for bothering him. She should leave. That was what she thought, but the allure of the warmth she was feeling at the moment was just too strong.
She wanted to just stay like this forever, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible. She was here to get clean, after all.
The water immediately became murky as she began washing herself off. Slowly but surely, her snow-white hair and skin were becoming visible once more. As the dirt vanished, though, the bruises and scars they'd been hiding began to show. These were stains that couldn't be removed with water. She'd once cried out when those wounds had been inflicted.
Now, though, her tears had run dry.
Eventually, she decided she was as clean as she'd ever be. There was nothing that resembled a bar of soap, and although there were strange bottles around the tub, she didn't know how to use them. She didn't want to mess up someone else's belongings.
Getting out of the tub, she looked back and saw how brown it was, then looked down at her own body, now much cleaner than it'd been before. How strange. She'd never thought of herself as dirty, but now that she was clean, she couldn't imagine going back to the way she'd been before.
Spotting a towel hanging on a rack, she dried herself off, then put on the nightgown she'd been given. It was loose, but it would do for now.
What to do now? She felt more than a little uncomfortable at the moment. Accepting someone else's charity like this felt so incredibly foreign that it almost felt wrong. Should she really accept something like this? As she thought about it, only one conclusion came to mind.
What other choice did she have? She couldn't try to escape. That would be a far worse sin than accepting this strange man's aid.
She opened the door, and John spun around, steaming cup in hand.
"All done?" He scanned her from head to toe and nodded, seemingly satisfied with the result. "Hm. Yeah, that's a lot better…"
His voice trailed off as he spotted the bruises. Moreover, now that Prota's hair wasn't obscuring her face, he could see one eye was swollen, the other black, as well as the fact that her cheeks, while still maintaining a little baby fat, were incredibly hollowed in. She flinched, cowering as he observed her, but he simply shook his head and turned around.
"Hey. You… never mind." He walked over to the stove, poured something into a cup, and handed it to Prota. "Here. Cup of tea, if you want. Careful, though, it's hot."
He started heading towards the washroom to clean up. Prota looked at him, suspicious, then took a sniff of the drink in her hands. It was fragrant, reminding her of flowers in a summer field, and a wave of calm washed over her mind. Something like that couldn't be poison, right? She took a sip, and the sensation of needles on her tongue shocked her into quickly swallowing. It didn't quite hurt, per se, but she could tell that she should've waited a little before drinking.
"Hot, right? I warned you," John said while hiding a smile, then turned back.
She sat on the sofa carefully and continued to sip at the tea, more carefully this time, listening to the sound of the water draining from the tub. John was humming a tune she didn't recognize. A fire crackled cheerily in the fireplace, and her eyes began to flutter. The fragrant smell of the tea wafted into her nose, the smell of burning wood occasionally mixing in.
She couldn't sleep. Not yet. Her body and mind were tired, extremely tired, and she was so comfortable. Her eyelids fluttered, but she forced herself to stay awake. She didn't know what this strange man would do, and she had to be on guard at all times. The luxury of a restful sleep wasn't something she could afford.
Still, just a little. She could let her eyes close for just a little bit. She took another sip of the tea. Maybe that would help. The place felt secure. Just a few minutes. She could close her eyes for that much, right?
Her cup, now empty, dropped to the floor onto the carpet below, and her eyelids grew heavy, slowly closing into darkness.
~~~
"You know, if we were back [Home], drugging a kid like that would be incredibly suspicious and illegal, right?"
"...please don't put it like that," John muttered as he threw Prota's old excuse of a dress into the fire.
He'd come out of the washroom to see Prota snoring away on the sofa, the cloak draped over her like a blanket.
"Who knows how the [Readers] will interpret this one. I've already said enough things to be cancelled for life. Thank god social media doesn't exist here."
John hadn't strictly drugged her, but the tea contained some herbs that were known for their relaxing properties, and for a small child like Prota, they were a little stronger to the point where they could be considered a sedative. Not exactly an anesthetic or anything like that, but if someone was tired, it would definitely help them sleep easier. Ultimately, they'd been the main reason she'd fallen asleep. Zero had just felt like saying something stupid.
"She can keep the cloak," he muttered as he returned to his cup of tea. "Why did I get that thing in the first place? Seriously. I don't even remember why I bought it. That's… that's concerning, right?"
He was speaking nonsense, but he was trying to turn his mind to things besides the injuries he'd seen on the little girl. He was supposed to be used to stuff like that. It wasn't meant to be something strange, at least to him. Somehow, he'd gotten used to this clean city. A low crime rate, a low homeless rate… he'd gotten a little too relaxed.
"John… she's been living on the streets. What did you expect?" Zero sighed.
"Man, I don't know, I just- whatever. It's just, like, where are her parents? Her caretakers? I mean, if she doesn't have something like that, then how did she even end up in this situation?"
"That's something you're gonna have to ask her yourself."
John frowned. "Why don't you just tell me?"
"Dude, if I just tell you everything, that's gonna make for a shitty story. [Plot] takes time to develop, you know."
John made a disgruntled noise and took another sip of tea.
"If you're just gonna be a bitch about it, you might as well not be here. Annoying piece of shit."
"But I'm you. That makes you an annoying piece of shit, too."
"I'm a piece of shit who has something he needs to get done. I don't care if I'm being annoying or not. The fuck are you doing here?"
"I'm keeping you company."
"Pretty terrible company, if you ask me."
John looked at the girl sleeping on his sofa and sighed. Seriously, what kind of name was Prota? He shook his head. What a situation he'd found himself in.
"You're going to have to talk to her eventually."
"Huh? Why?"
"I mean, you're going to have to talk to her eventually. Or were you planning on just avoiding her forever?"
John stood up and stretched.
"You know what? I'm gonna take a bath, then head off to bed," he grunted. "This is so much thinking—way too much thinking for me. Thinking is hard. Sleeping is easy. I'll deal with this tomorrow."
"Sweet dreams," Zero said cheerfully.
John paused and snorted. "Dreams? In this world? What's the point?"
~~~
Prota mumbled as she rolled around, slowly blinking her eyes open. Something felt different, but she couldn't remember what.
The first thing that registered was that the ground was soft. Had she found a new blanket somewhere? The air was warm, and it smelled nice, like food. It was then that she realized that the empty feeling in her stomach was gone. She wasn't starving for the first time in a long time.
Her eyes were fully open now, and she almost fell off the sofa in shock as she realized she was no longer in the alleyway. Her first instinct was to run, but in a flash, the events of last night came back to her. Her body relaxed as she remembered.
John.
The man was a stranger who had, for some reason, invited her into his house, given her food, fresh clothes, a bath and a place to sleep, all without asking any questions. She knew nothing about him. What he did, who he was, anything, really, but as long as he wasn't new to the city, she was sure that he'd heard of the rumours.
Demon child.
Most people ignored her entirely, and the few that didn't usually attacked her or chased her away. So why had this complete stranger brought her in?
More importantly, why had she decided to follow him?
"Hey. Want something to eat?" John called out, interrupting her train of thought.
The child sat up and saw smoke rising from a frying pan, the smell of something delicious wafting towards her nose. Her eyes immediately widened, but as soon as she saw the food spread on the table, she lost all reasoning and headed toward the feast as if hypnotized by the mere sight of it.
However, upon reaching the table, she shrank back. Was this really something she could touch? Why was this man so kind to her? What was his ulterior motive?
Still, she stared at the feast with sparkling eyes and a watering mouth. Suspicion or hunger, which feeling would win? In the end, it was the more primitive desire that won out. She climbed into a chair and grabbed a fork.
"Here you go. You shouldn't eat too much, you know…" John started but then gave up as Prota began wolfing the food down.
It was just bacon, eggs, and toast, but for her, it was the best thing she'd eaten in a long time. She wasn't so uncivilized that she didn't know how to use utensils, but it did get a little bit messy with the speed she was eating. Soon enough, the plate was clear, and she held it up, silently asking for more. John couldn't help but laugh. She was like a lost puppy or kitten begging for treats.
"Your stomach is gonna hurt if you eat like this, you know?"
She remained unfazed, staring at the plate with greedy eyes. John grimaced. She wasn't saying anything, but the message was pretty clear. It seemed she was reluctant to ask for more, and yet, she clearly desired it.
"Fine," John sighed. "But don't come running to me when you get cramps later."
~~~
About two hours later, Prota was lying on the floor, clutching at her stomach. Her face showed no signs of pain, but she refused to stir.
"I told you," John mumbled, stirring something in a cup. "Here, drink this."
She stirred a little to sip at the cup and immediately pushed it away after realizing how bitter it was.
"Please. It's medicine. Um… is that what they call it in this world? A tonic, maybe, or a potion? What am I saying? Of course medicine exists. It's… it'll help you feel better, ok?" John said, feeling stupid.
As John said, she was feeling better within half an hour. She looked up to find him moving around the room aimlessly, cleaning up here and there, but his actions had no real substance. After a while, he sighed and sat down on the sofa, seeming to resolve some kind of inner conflict.
"Alright, Prota. We need to talk, ok? I want to put it off, but…"
He patted the cushion next to him, inviting her to sit. She nodded and sat beside him, but she shifted around awkwardly, pressing herself into the armrest as if trying to merge her body with the piece of furniture.
"...oh, right."
He moved over to make room for her to sit comfortably. He'd forgotten about her aversion to grabbing his hand the previous night. It still confused him, but that was something he'd figure out later.
"Alright, look. We need to talk about the elephant in the room, right?"
Prota's head tilted to the side. Elephant?
"You're probably wondering something like… why I brought you in, why you're here, something like that."
Prota nodded.
"You might not believe me, but the answer's basically… nothing. I'm not looking for much. Just a few answers to a couple of questions, but those can wait. It doesn't really look like you're in the state to be doing much, anyway. So rest up. Recover. We can deal with it later, ok?"
Prota looked at John and cocked her head to the side. It reminded the latter of a curious cat, but he then realized that this was probably her only way of showing confusion. With that blank face of hers, she probably had a hard time showing confusion any other way.
He sighed. How troublesome.
"Look, you can leave at any time, ok? Hell, if you wanna go out the front door right now, I'm not going to stop you. You can take the cloak with you, a bottle of water if you want, some dried food, whatever you think might help. But at the same time… you could also stay. All I'm asking is that when the time comes, you answer me honestly. Do you trust me enough to do that?"
She looked away.
Trust? That was something she hadn't thought of for a long, long time. There was no one to trust. She'd been on her own. She'd been alone for so, so long. Memories flashed through her head. A fire. A demon. A village, from what seemed like an eternity ago…
A whole year. A year of living alone. A year of abuse, mistreatment, pain and suffering, starvation and scavenging… was it going to end here?
Just like that?
She didn't want to look at John. It felt too much like a dream, like wandering in the desert only to be led astray by a mirage. She didn't want to be led astray by some false hope. She felt like a fish spotting a worm dangling in the water. Such a tempting meal. Yet, on the other end sat a hook, ready to catch you and reel you in.
Her heart yearned to rest. To find someplace she could call home. But was this the place?
John coughed awkwardly.
"Look, I'm... I'm not that great at this kinda stuff. You know, one on one talking and all that. Yeah, me when I'm in an expression contest and—ah, I told myself I wouldn't do that anymore."
Prota looked at him, and although she looked the same as always, he could tell she was utterly confused. He coughed awkwardly.
"Look, the point is, I'm not good at expressing my emotions and shit, ok?"
Yeah, idiot. It's because you don't feel. How're you gonna express what you don't have?
"Look. The way you look right now, it reminds me of- ah, what the hell. All I'm saying is, you remind me of someone who didn't turn out so great. But you're still a kid. You can turn around. You can still grow and live a normal life. But that means you have to recover a little first."
John took a deep breath and paused.
"You don't have to decide right now, but… think about it, ok?" He got up and stretched. "I've got a bar to run, ok? You can stay up here and rest, sleep, whatever… might not be a good idea for you to come down, but… whatever. Just try not to break anything."
He gave her a little smile and went down the stairs.
~~~
She's a [Character], John. Why are you paying so much attention to a [Character]? She's not real. She's going to disappear in the end, just like everyone else. Get a hold of yourself. You're being delusional.
"So much for your promise, huh?"
"I… shit," John swore, slamming his head on the bar counter. "She reminds me of-"
"So despite knowing your roots, despite every [Reset] you've been through, you still can't drop your humanity entirely, can you? No matter how much you try to deny it, you're still part [Character]."
"Yeah, thanks for the reminder, shithead."
"Wow! I wonder how much creative thought went into that insult," Zero said sarcastically. "Ten points for originality."
"I thought you were supposed to be helpful," John groaned, lifting his head.
"We went over this yesterday."
Zero popped out and smiled. A genuine smile looked out of place on someone who was wearing John's face, but at the same time, it wasn't all that bad.
"John. Just because you got some of your memories back doesn't mean you have to be like this. What's wrong with this?"
Zero looked John in the eyes.
"What's wrong with feeling again?"
John stared right back. It was like looking in a distorted mirror.
"You know goddamn well why I stopped feeling."
"That doesn't explain why you can't give it another try."
"...I don't want to."
"Don't lie to yourself."
John started getting things ready, his face dark. The only sounds in the bar were the shuffling of his feet and the occasional clink of glasses. After a while, he turned back to Zero.
"I'm not lying to myself. I'm not lying to you. There's no need for me to get attached. They're [Characters], Zero. They're not real. Isn't that the whole point of this?"
"And yet you subconsciously draw closer to her."
"That's subconscious. I can't control that. I can control what I do about it."
"...that's not what I'm seeing. Just who do you think you're kidding? I'm you, remember?"
John stopped what he was doing and froze.
"No matter how much you push yourself aside, you're still you. You said it yourself. She reminds you of someone, and it's not just Emma, right?"
No response.
"She reminds you of yourself. Right?"
"Don't-" John started, but Zero ignored him.
"She reminds you of you when you started out. She's going down the same path as you, isn't she? Slowly learning how to stop herself from feeling. You don't want her doing that. So, why are you letting yourself do that? Why is it ok for you to do it but not her?"
"Because-"
"That's a rhetorical question. Don't answer. I saw the light in your eyes, however brief. You want to care for her, don't you?"
"..."
John's silence was answer enough.
"Then go do it. Stop being alone. Stop acting like you can feel, and start feeling for real."
He sighed and walked over to the door, flipping the sign to "open." When he turned around, a smile was on his face, and anyone who saw it would've assumed it was genuine. However, like Zero had been saying, there was no light in his eyes. It was an empty smile, a fake one, a well crafted mask that hid the void that laid underneath.
"...I'll think about it."
With that, Zero disappeared, and another day began. John looked around and cursed as he saw the floor.
"Ah… I forgot to clean."