“We’re looking to purchase some hunting gear,” I said casually to the old man behind the counter. On the surface, the shop seemed to deal in antiques—aged trinkets and dusty curios cluttered the shelves—but the phrase was the key he was waiting for.


    “What quality?” he rasped, his voice rough as sandpaper.


    “Premium.”


    Without another word, he gave a curt nod and pressed a hidden button. The faint click of machinery was followed by the slow, deliberate groan of a concealed door sliding open.


    From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jade practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes sparkling like stars. She looked ready to burst into delighted squeals, barely restraining her thrill. To her, this was the discovery of a hidden side quest— a detour in her grand adventure. I shot her a quick look and gestured for her to follow, silently pleading for discretion.


    As we stepped through the hidden doorway, into the hidden room, I spotted two more people working behind the counter. They were both young, a man and a woman, perhaps in their late twenties. Their faces held a guarded, professional air that came from working in a place like this.


    "I''m looking for weapons and materials for suits," I said to the woman behind the counter, keeping my voice low and even.


    She nodded, relaying the request to the man, who immediately turned and strode off toward another room, presumably to retrieve the items I had asked about. While he was gone, I took the opportunity to scan the products on display.


    The counter was filled with an array of curious items - everything from sleek, angular knives to small, compact guns that glowed with an unsettling energy – plasma guns, I muttered inwardly.


    The man returned swiftly, his arms loaded with an assortment of weapons and devices. He laid them out with care, one by one, as he described their features with brisk efficiency. My gaze swept over the selection, already weighing options and possibilities.


    “R145,” he held up a weapon nearly as long as my arm. Its metallic frame gleamed under the overhead lights, looking like something ripped straight from the pages of a sci-fi movie. “Used in the WW-Meta. Uses Gamma Storm, powerful enough to vaporize organic matter in an instant, and capable of breaking androids into chunks. Top of the line. It’s the most powerful weapon you’ll find that’s still portable.”


    He placed the R145 down carefully before picking up a smaller weapon, about the size of a standard handgun. “PL-223,” he continued, his voice steady and professional. “A short-range stunner that fires bolts of electricity. Adjustable power—from a mild stun to a full knockout.”


    Finally, he picked up a sleek, dark weapon that seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive. “LS-005,” he said, his tone reverent. “Another beauty. Can fire multiple molecular disruption rounds, in simple words — plasma shots in quick succession. Deadly, efficient, and serious.”


    I listened and studied the weapons intently. Each one offered something unique, and I weighed their pros and cons, trying to match them to our specific needs.


    Beside me, Jade hovered, her silver eyes flickering between the guns with a mix of fascination and restrained apprehension. Her fingers twitched, and I knew she was dying to reach out and inspect the weapons herself. A sharp glance from me stopped her short; this wasn’t the time for her usual impulsiveness.


    Once the clerk finished his presentation, stepping back slightly as if to give me space to decide. I nodded, my voice even. “I’ll take the R145 and LS-005. Throw in a set of small plasma knives.”


    His lips twitched in a faint smile, and he began gathering the chosen items. I turned my attention to the materials laid out on the counter next—an array of fabrics and composites that would make any professional envious. There was standard Kevlar, sure, but that was nothing compared to the high-tech options available.


    One fabric caught my eye immediately: a sliver shimmering thread spun from genetically modified spiders. I’d read about it—a breakthrough by some meta biologist. It was as strong as titanium but light as air, with incredible flexibility. Around it were other specialized materials: fabrics that could resist extreme heat, endure freezing temperatures, or even shrug off corrosive chemicals. Some were non-magnetic, while others looked tougher than diamond but could still bend and twist like regular cloth.


    Given that both Jade and I were on the lower end of the physical strength spectrum—thanks to the quirks of our meta abilities—we needed something versatile. An all-around material that could balance resilience, flexibility, and protection without compromising our mobility or stealth. The right gear could be a game-changer for us, but only if it met all those conditions.


    “I like this one,” Jade said suddenly, running her fingers over a fabric that shimmered like liquid silicon. “It’s self-healing and resistant to electricity.”


    I examined the sample she was pointing at and gave a slow nod. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” I admitted. “But wearing it would be uncomfortable. Plus, it’ll make us stand out like neon signs in the dark. Not ideal.”


    Jade’s face fell slightly. She let out a small sigh and carefully placed the fabric back on the counter. The excitement in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a thoughtful frown as she studied a few other options. Her fingers hovered over the samples, brushing against different textures as she weighed her choices.


    “We could try layering fabrics,” I suggested, picking up the spider silk again. “Combine the best features from a few different materials instead of relying on just one.”


    “That… might work,” she said, her brows furrowing in thought. “But we’ll have to be careful about weight. Too many layers, and we’ll be clunking around like robots.”


    “Fair point,” I said, setting the fabric back on the counter. “We’ll keep it simple but effective. Prioritize mobility.”


    Jade nodded, looking marginally satisfied. Then she spotted something else—a deep blue fabric with an iridescent sheen. “What’s this one?”


    The clerk, who had been quietly observing our deliberations, stepped forward. “That’s an adaptive material,” he explained. “It hardens on impact but remains soft and flexible under normal conditions. Excellent for dynamic protection.”


    Jade’s eyes widened. “Like armor that only shows up when you need it?”


    “Exactly,” the clerk said with a small nod.


    I could see the gears turning in her head, but I shook mine. “Nope. Too expensive,” I said before she could even ask.


    The materials were incredible—cutting-edge tech, the kind that could turn a good plan into a great one. But the price tags were enough to make even the wealthiest meta pause. Some of the fabrics cost thousands per square inch, and the realization of how little we could actually afford hit like a gut punch. It was a sobering moment.


    When it came time to pay, I thought Jade might faint. Her face went ghost-white, her hands trembling slightly as the clerk tallied the final amount. I could see the number swirling in her head, far beyond what she had expected—what anyone would expect for fabric. By the end of it, I’d handed over nearly everything I had, leaving just a few thousand to my name. In one transaction, I’d gone from comfortably prepared to practically broke.


    We left the shop quickly, not wanting to linger. The clerk assured us the items would be delivered to our location later, so to keep up appearances, we walked out carrying a set of ridiculously expensive china dishes as our cover. It felt absurd, but at least it served its purpose.


    I glanced over at Jade as we walked. She had become a walking rain cloud, her usual effervescent energy completely dampened. Her shoulders were slouched forward as if carrying an invisible weight, and her gaze remained fixed on the ground, studying every crack in the sidewalk with intense concentration. The silver in her eyes had dulled to a leaden gray, matching her mood perfectly. Her gloom was so potent it seemed to create a bubble around us.


    “It’s fine,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You don’t have to pay me back.”


    I realized almost immediately that my words had backfired. Jade’s shoulders hunched even further, and I could’ve sworn the air around her dimmed. It hit me then—this might have been the first time someone had sacrificed something tangible for her, and she didn’t know how to handle it.


    “You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly.


    I shrugged. “We needed it.”


    “No, seriously,” she pressed. “That was… a lot. You didn’t even hesitate.”


    “How am I ever going to pay you back?” Her voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “I shouldn’t have asked you for help,” she muttered, the weight of the perceived debt dragging her down.


    I glanced at her, considering my response. “Because it’s not just for me. Also, You’ll have plenty of chances to repay me in the future,” I said simply, keeping my tone light. “Think of it as a down payment for all the help I’ll need later.”


    She bit her lip, clearly conflicted. Then, the corner of her mouth twitched upward, and some of the tension in her frame eased. “I promise,” she said firmly, clenching her fist as if sealing the vow. I couldn’t help but smile at her resolve.


    We got off the train at a different station than where we''d started our journey, it was at a station closer to her home, quieter and less crowded than the one we’d started from. The platform was mostly empty, save for a few stray pigeons pecking at scraps of food. The stillness was almost comforting after the long day.


    I naturally couldn''t work on the suits and equipment at my place—Aunt Grace''s keen eyes and endless questions would make that impossible. I had suggested renting a temporary space, but Jade had quickly offered her home instead, mentioning almost casually that she lived alone and had enough space.


    I was surprised, not by the offer, but by the fact that she truly lived alone. The revelation sat uncomfortably in my mind, raising more questions than answers. Who was taking care of her? I had assumed her parents had transferred to Earth with her—that''s how it usually worked in most cases. But clearly, that wasn''t the case here.


    Looking at Jade now, as she led us through the increasingly quiet, residential streets, I found myself seeing her in a new light.


    For the first time, I wondered about her life outside of what I already knew. What was her empty home like? Did it reflect her moods the way she seemed to shift from one to another? Could the walls change color, echoing her emotions?


    Her house was tucked away in a secluded part of the North District, where the streets were lined with older trees and a stillness that felt untouched by the bustle of the city. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was at all nervous about inviting me inside. After all, we were still, in many ways, strangers.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    At the door, Jade pressed her thumb to a small scanner. It glowed softly blue, accompanied by a quiet click as the lock disengaged. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, and I followed, bracing myself for whatever I might find.


    It wasn’t what I expected.


    The space was smaller than I’d imagined, but it exuded a warmth and life that instantly drew me in—literally. Plants were everywhere, filling every available corner and surface. Cascading ivy spilled from hanging baskets, rubber plants stood tall and sturdy in corners, and delicate ferns framed the windows like living drapes.


    The air was crisp and fresh, carrying a faint scent that was unmistakably Jade: a mix of rain and the soft floral notes of peonies. It felt like stepping into a tiny, curated forest rather than a home.


    “Not what you were expecting, huh?” Jade asked, glancing over her shoulder with a faint smile.


    She slipped off her boots and opened a large drawer by the door. Inside was a neatly arranged collection of footwear—dozens upon dozens of fancy boots, high heels, and sneakers, each pair more striking than the last. Big collection, I noted. My gaze quickly moved away from the drawer to take in the rest of the house.


    “Definitely not,” I admitted, scanning the room.


    Jade’s mood seemed to brighten as she moved through the house. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and for the first time since we’d left the shop, she looked entirely at ease. The expression suited her far better than the shadow of gloom she’d worn earlier.


    “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing toward a plush sofa that looked well-loved, the kind you’d sink into and never want to leave. “I’ve got something to finish up.”


    Before I could respond, she disappeared down a short hallway, leaving me alone with her indoor garden.


    I settled onto the sofa, its soft cushions almost swallowing me whole, and let my eyes wander. The room felt like a treasure trove of her personality. A shelf held a collection of crystalline prisms that scattered light into dancing rainbows across the walls. Then a huge stack of books lining the wall caught my attention—titles on randomness, probabilities, causality, and quantum mechanics sitting beside brightly illustrated comic books — she was probably trying to learn and understand her meta nature better. On a small side table, a mug printed with mathematical equations sat next to a pot of flowers in a shocking pink hue, cheerful and unapologetic.


    From the hallway, her voice floated back to me. “You’re not judging my plant obsession, are you?”


    “Judging?” I called back, amused. “I’m more impressed. This many plants, and none of them are dead? That’s practically a superpower.”


    Jade reappeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, a notebook in one hand. “Takes effort,” she said with mock seriousness. “And bribery. Turns out ferns really respond to compliments.”


    I stared at the fern that had basically claimed the window as its kingdom. Its leaves sprawled out like green hands reaching for every bit of sunlight. “I mean, this one looks like it’s trying to take over the apartment.”


    She followed my gaze and grinned. “That’s Harold. He’s a drama queen. Every time I miss watering him by a day, he goes all limp like I’ve personally betrayed him.”


    “You named them?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    “Of course,” she replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Plants have feelings, you know.”


    I chuckled. “Right. So Harold, huh? What about the rest of them?”


    She held up a hand, ticking off fingers as she listed them. “That’s Ivy—predictable, I know—then there’s Charlie, Bubbles, and Rosalind over by the bookshelf. Oh, and the cactus on the kitchen counter? That’s Spike.”


    I stared at her, unsure whether to be impressed or concerned. “You’ve officially spent too much time with them.”


    “Don’t knock it,” she said with a shrug. “They’re great listeners.”


    “Well,” I said, breaking the silence before it grew too heavy, “thanks for letting me invade your jungle. I’ll try not to ruin the vibe.”


    “Please don’t,” she said with mock sternness, though her smile returned. “The plants don’t take kindly to intruders.”


    “Good to know,” I replied. “I’ll watch my step.”


    She smiled and disappeared back down the hallway again, leaving me alone with her green army. I returned my gaze to Harold, who, for all his dramatic flair, did make the window look pretty cozy.


    I clicked my tongue, forcing myself to stop spiraling into unnecessary thoughts. Closing my eyes, I focused on clearing my mind, trying to find some calm amidst the waiting. The delivery hadn’t arrived yet, leaving us in a frustrating limbo. My empty stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten much of anything all day. Maybe I could order something or raid whatever supplies Jade had stashed in her kitchen.


    The combination of the comfortable sofa and mental exhaustion – due to my large memories – must have lulled me into a near-sleep state because the next thing I knew, a familiar scent filled the air—closer now, sharper. My eyes fluttered open to find Jade’s face startlingly close, filling my entire field of vision.


    She was so close that every detail stood out with unnerving clarity: her full pink lips, slightly parted; the faint, almost invisible freckles across the bridge of her nose; and the three beauty spots I’d somehow never noticed before—one near her left eye, another at the edge of her nose, and a faint one on her right cheek.


    At the moment, her finger was raised, frozen mid-descent toward my forehead in what I could only assume was going to be an attempt to poke me awake.


    Our eyes locked, and for a long moment, neither of us moved. My heart stuttered in my chest, the stillness of the room amplifying the sudden rush of blood in my ears. Her silver eyes widened slightly, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw something unreadable in them—curiosity? Panic? Something else entirely?


    Her face turned crimson, and she practically launched herself backward, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to put some distance between us. She caught herself against the edge of a chair, looking everywhere but at me.


    “I… I was just checking if you were awake?” she stammered, her voice pitched slightly higher than usual. It came out more like a question than an explanation, and she looked everywhere but directly at me.


    (゜-゜)


    Had I caught her doing something I wasn’t meant to see? I blinked at her, my brain still catching up. While I’d been dozing, she’d changed into something more comfortable: a beige crop top adorned with frolicking cartoon cats, a fancy, violet loose cropped cardigan draped over her shoulders, and leg warmers wrapping her knees. The outfit was both cozy and charming, completely disarming me in a way I wasn’t ready for.


    Was she trying to put a spell on me… I secretly wondered.


    "What were you trying to do?" I said slowly, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.


    Her blush deepened, and she crossed her arms over her chest, more out of nervousness than defiance. “I wasn’t staring,” she protested weakly. “You were just… right there.”


    “And you just happened to be hovering over me with your finger about to poke my forehead?”


    “I wasn’t—!” She cut herself off, her lips pressing together tightly as she realized how it sounded. Her eyes darted to the side, refusing to meet mine again.


    (ー_ー゛)


    Shaking my head, I pushed away thoughts that weren’t going anywhere useful. Jade and her antics. Jade and her disarming outfits. Jade and her inability to respect personal space when she thought no one was paying attention. She had a habit of getting too close—poking, teasing, and pulling little stunts when she felt like it.


    That had to be all this was.


    She liked to pull pranks, so I settled on the explanation with a certainty I didn’t entirely feel.


    Still, I made a mental note to stay more alert around her. For my own safety and sanity.


    “Are you hungry?” I asked, steering the conversation back to something practical.


    “Do you want me to order food?” Jade immediately reached for her phone, fingers hovering over the screen.


    I thought about it for a moment. “If you have groceries, we can make something here.”


    “Okay,” she said, setting her phone down and leading me to her kitchen. Then, almost as an afterthought and with a hint of embarrassment, she added, “But… I don’t know how to cook.”


    Her admission caught me off guard, but it also raised another question. “Who’s been taking care of you?”


    “I, um… the restaurants in the area deliver fresh food everyday. My uncle and aunt also come by to drop groceries every week,” she said, her voice careful. I was a little relieved by her explanation, at least she had someone in the city to worry about her.


    Opening the fridge, I was surprised by the variety of ingredients it held. Fresh produce, specialty items, and an odd assortment of things that seemed out of place—like a half-eaten pizza with its crust missing. That small detail made me pause for a beat, but I pushed the thought aside, pulling out a few lemons and other essentials as an idea formed.


    “How about a lemon pie?” I asked, already setting the ingredients on the counter. Cooking had become second nature to me over the years, a necessity when you lived on your own for long stretches.


    “Let me help,” Jade said eagerly, her usual energy returning.


    “Alright,” I said, handing her some dry fruits, sugar, and butter. “You can help make the crust. Just crush the dry fruits in the food processor and mix in the sugar and butter.”


    Surprisingly, she followed along well. Meanwhile, I prepared the filling with condensed milk, fresh lemon juice, and four eggs. When she finished, I took over, and she watched closely as I assembled everything. We waited in silence, and soon the delicious aroma filled the kitchen as the pie baked.


    “It smells good,” Jade said, practically vibrating with anticipation.


    “We’ll eat it with ice cream and whipped cream,” I told her. That was all the motivation she needed—suddenly, she was rifling through her freezer and cabinets like a squirrel on a treasure hunt. Boxes clattered, drawers opened and slammed shut, and somehow, she managed to produce a tub of vanilla ice cream and a can of whipped cream.


    About thirty minutes later, we were sitting cross-legged on the floor with forks in hand. Jade wasted no time, digging in with enthusiasm. Her first bite was enormous, and her reaction immediate.


    “This is so good,” she declared around a mouthful of pie, her eyes suspiciously shiny with what looked like actual tears.


    I rolled my eyes at her theatrics, but a tiny bit of pride crept in anyway. “I know a lot more,” I said, unable to resist a little bragging.


    “Seriously?” she said, her manners forgotten as she gaped at me, ice cream dripping off her fork. “You have to teach me all of them.”


    “Alright,” I said with a chuckle, her excitement contagious.


    The pie was momentarily forgotten when a thought struck me. “By the way, have you decided on a general design for your costume?” I asked.


    Jade’s eyes lit up like I’d flipped a switch. She shot to her feet, abandoning the pie without a second glance, and darted into her room. A moment later, she reemerged clutching a drawing tablet, her face alive with excitement.


    “Take a look!” she exclaimed, practically thrusting the tablet at me as she plopped back onto the couch beside me. Flipping through her designs, she narrated with a mixture of pride and enthusiasm. Each one was striking, filled with intricate patterns, flowing lines, and bold details that practically leaped off the screen.


    “These are amazing,” I admitted, genuinely impressed. “But…”


    “But?” Her excitement dimmed slightly as she tilted her head, waiting for the inevitable critique.


    “They’re… a bit too complicated for now,” I explained carefully. “Don’t get me wrong—they’re incredible. But something like this would need a team of professionals. Maybe start simpler?”


    To my relief, she nodded, taking the critique in stride. “Fair point,” she said, her enthusiasm barely dimmed.


    “I guess I got a little carried away. Simplify. Got it.”


    Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait… but do you even know how to sew?”


    The question caught me completely off guard. “Sort of…” I replied, my voice trailing off.


    Her skeptical gaze locked onto mine. “Sort of?” she repeated, her tone bordering on disbelief.


    Jade pressed her lips together in thought, her expression unreadable—until she was suddenly in my personal space again. Her face was inches from mine, her silver eyes scanning me with an intensity that made me want to lean back. But I held my ground, refusing to give her the satisfaction.


    “Tell me your secret,” she demanded, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “How do you have so much money? How do you know so much?” Her eyes narrowed. “You do, and I’ll give you one promise.”


    However, I stayed still.


    Her offer was tempting—a promise for a secret— a good deal indeed coming from someone like her, but I sighed, sensing the headache that would follow. “There’s no secret,” I said plainly.


    “Liar,” she said, sitting back with a dramatic huff, her arms crossing over her chest. “You’re not telling me something. Spill it.”


    “There’s nothing to spill,” I replied, exasperation creeping into my tone.


    “Hmm,” She didn’t buy it. The disbelief was plain on her face, and after a moment, her expression shifted to something sharper, more calculating. “Okay, how about this—let’s trade. A secret for a secret.”


    Her eyes gleamed with mischief, making it clear she was already thinking three steps ahead. Her voice laced with suspicious enthusiasm. “You tell me your big mystery, and I’ll tell you something really juicy. Deal?”


    For a moment, I considered the possibility—could she be a spy for the man behind the scenes? But the thought was laughable. Jade was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. She wore her emotions too openly, and reacted too earnestly. No, she wasn’t hiding a covert agenda; she was just Jade. Unless, of course, she wanted me to think that… but I quickly dismissed the notion. That level of subterfuge didn’t suit her.


    “Alright,” I said finally, deciding to play along. I leaned forward, signaling she’d go first.


    Jade mirrored me, closing the distance between us until I could see the faintest details of her lips again, the soft curve of her smile. Her voice dropped lower, soft and serious. “I…”


    Suddenly, the sharp ring of the doorbell shattered the moment like breaking glass.


    Jade’s reaction was instant and explosive. “Ugh!” she groaned, leaping to her feet in frustration. (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻


    ?(????)? She stomped toward the door with all the grace of a thunderstorm, each step broadcasting her annoyance. “Terrible timing!” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.


    The delivery person’s timing couldn’t have been worse—or, depending on how you looked at it, better.


    Watching her storm off, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had been about to say.