"Why are you here so early? It's freezing this morning. You could have co by the antique shop a little later; I'll be there all day. Oh, Hathaway, you have no idea how dead it is in the winter. Working at the shop is incredibly dull."
A man, a woman, and a cat were all seated at the table for a al. Jenkins was glad to have a friend to share the less-than-delicious food with on this otherwise boring morning.
"I haven't had a chance to see you alone since you returned from your trip, so I ca by first thing. You don't mind joining you for breakfast, do you?"
the red-haired young woman asked.
"Of course not."
Jenkins shook his head, wiped his hands with a napkin, and sat down as well.
Hathaway sat across from him, and his cat was to his left. It was a peaceful, tranquil breakfast—exactly the kind of quiet life Jenkins was after.
"Actually, there were a few things I needed to talk to you about, which is why I ca,"
Hathaway said, taking a sip from her glass of milk. It tasted a little too sweet.
"Since we didn't report what the Quakes were doing, everyone now thinks they were among the victims. Earl Quake is now vowing revenge. It's ridiculous."
"Who does he want revenge on?"
"The old Earl has lost his mind, so it's hard to imagine what he might do. But that's not the main point. You once told that Franklin Quake had ties to both demons and vampires, so I did a little investigating..."
Jenkins set down his knife and looked at her. He still preferred chopsticks, but with a guest present, he had to keep up appearances with such utensils.
"The day we got back, I slipped into one of Franklin Quake's regular residences and found so rather disturbing docunts hidden in the bedroom ceiling. I've stashed them away, but I don't know what to do with them."
"Burn them."
Jenkins offered the quickest solution. "It's best for humans not to get tangled up with non-human races. I recently heard a theory that their complete withdrawal from the material world is deeply connected to the great cataclysm at the end of the epoch. Besides, vampires and demons are hardly benevolent species. Burn them."
"That's for the best."
Hathaway nodded thoughtfully before continuing.
"There's a second thing. Garcia and Rick are planning to elope."
"Oh... huh?"
Jenkins nearly sprayed a mouthful of unchewed bread. He coughed loudly and took a gulp of milk.
"You an Alan Garcia and Yula Rick?"
His face was a mask of astonishnt. He knew about their feelings for each other and the feud between their families, but he never thought they'd have this kind of courage.
"Yes. Yula told that after everything that happened on our trip, they both realized how precious life is. It made them want to pursue the lives they desire, with the people they love. They decided to elope the day before yesterday. Garcia has a considerable amount of cash on hand, which should be enough for them to start a new life in the Cheslan Kingdom to the south."
From Hathaway's tone, it was clear she deeply admired and approved of the young couple's decision.
"That's a truly courageous thing to do. While it may bring sha upon their families and parents, they are indeed seizing their own happiness. Oh, I won't pass judgnt, but I wish them all the best."
Jenkins scratched the fleshy part of his cat's back. The animal looked up at him with a hint of annoyance, as if blaming the man for interrupting its story ti.
"They're planning to leave from Nolan Station on Sunday night. I thought we could see them off. It just so happens we're all going to see the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe's first preview that day. We can head to the train station right after."
"Will Briny be there?"
"Hm?"
That inquisitive hum from Hathaway was both a question about why Jenkins was concerned about Briny and why he had switched to using her first na instead of "Mikhail." On the last night of the train ride, Hathaway had gone to bed early and missed the conversation between the two, as well as the more passionate events that followed.
But the perceptive young woman imdiately sensed from Jenkins's simple question that sothing she didn't know about had happened. In just a few seconds, she had even pieced together a rough idea of what it was; after all, she considered herself to know both Jenkins and Briny all too well.
Jenkins regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but Hathaway's expression remained unchanged, which allowed him to relax.
"I an, it's better if not too many people go to see them off. Yes, that's what I ant."
"It will only be the three of us,"
she said, her eyes fixed on his.
"That's good."
Jenkins felt an inexplicable note of guilt in his voice.
They continued their breakfast in silence. Jenkins replayed their conversation in his mind, trying to find any missteps. In the end, he concluded that he had handled everything perfectly.
This was, of course, a mistaken judgnt.
After letting his thoughts wander for a while longer, Jenkins rembered he had sothing to ask Hathaway. In B-01-5-0002, the "Erald Dream," he had acquired a white, basic ability called "The Player," whose function was unknown. It wasn't an actively triggered ability, and to this day, he still had no idea what it was for.
"I acquired an interesting ability a few days ago. I got it... in a dream. I had a strange dream, and when I woke up, it was just there. I thought you might know sothing about it."
It wasn't a lie, since it had indeed been a dream.
With that, he gave her a rough summary of what had happened. He omitted the fact that the dream had taken place in Ruen, but he recounted nearly everything else.
At the ntion of "Druid Chocolate," the cat lying beside him lifted its head warily. Though his story was far from the truth, as Jenkins's soul and status grew stronger, he was inching closer and closer to the facts.
"The Player? Are you sure it's a white, basic ability?"
"Of course, I'm very sure."
The young writer didn't understand why she needed to confirm that point.
"Oh, gods. I never thought I'd live to see sothing like this."
Hathaway put down her knife and fork, wiped her hands on a napkin, and closed her eyes reverently, tracing the holy symbol of the God of Music in the air before her.
Only after completing the gesture did she explain to Jenkins.
"While it's not one of those precious, unique abilities, it's perfectly normal for it not to appear for centuries at a ti. According to the legends of my faith, the first human to listen to the vibrations of the earth, the call of the wind, and the roar of the heavens perceived music in the sounds of the world. He was the first person to master 'The Player (White Basic)'.
"We can set aside the credibility of the legend, but from what I know, every 'Player' who has appeared in my sect through the generations has been the designated Saint of the Wondrous Musical Score. Jenkins, I really don't know what to say."
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