Kenji awoke to find himself in a fluffy bed.

A bowl of something hot steamed on the side table, which had a nice wooden cane resting against it. A brooding guard stood in the doorway, staring at him. And at the end of his very long bed sat Sir Arthur. His golden eyes swelled with worry, his fiery hair cascading gorgeously down his shoulders to wrap about his fine features. Kenji arose slowly, enjoying the safety of the room, finding himself really appreciating the generosity of the boy knight.

This kind of giving nature is certainly what Kenji would associate with a protagonist. Further evidence that he had found himself an [F] or maybe even an [E] grade hero.

"Are you quite alright?" Arthur said.

"Far from it," Kenji said rather seriously, letting out the longest sigh in his life. "Felt like I had died, almost as if a needle pierced my brain and my body was turned to stone."

The boy laughed.

"What a peculiar thing to say! Hey old man, where are you from? If you can tell me the name of your noble estate, I can send a messenger to bring you your retainers."

"The Aztec Family," Kenji said without thinking. "Call me Sir Ken Aztec."

"So you are a knight then?" That got the boy excited, "and at your age? You must be something special. Not many knights I know have lived as long as you, not with the never-ending wars. But what has happened, how have you been reduced to such rags?"

"I was..." Kenji looked left and right, then waved for the boy to lean in closer. The guard at the door stared right into Kenji's soul, but the boy eagerly sat as close as he could.

"...a part of a secret organisation," Kenji whispered, then leaned back and nodded knowingly.

The boy picked his jaw off the floor and a curious flame erupted in his eyes. "A secret organization? What was it called- oh, is it still active?"

"Unfortunately not," Kenji said firmly. "We were called 'The Breakfast Club' but were utterly annihilated by a dark wizard called 'The Principle'. It is of paramount importance I find my fellow warriors, so we can deliver the news of this dark wizard's arrival. I would suggest you train as well. If you go around asking for the Aztec Family, they might come for you too."

Arthur clasped Kenji's hand, the fire in his golden eyes burning only brighter.

"Together we will defeat this threat. Now I must go, Ken Aztec. To prepare I must consult the holy scriptures. The all-knowing one directs us all," Arthur withdrew to the doorway, and Kenji nodded. Arthur was an [F] he decided. Unfortunately, the need to consult a higher power instead of doing what he believed was right had lost him some marks.

"Farewell Arthur, I'll come to guide your growth when I get the chance," Kenji said, not really sure how to do that. But he'd find a way, as he now owed a debt to this pleasant boy. He was so bright and kind, and Kenji felt rather good knowing he'd be paid for helping one that deserved it.

Arthur smiled.

"That is good. Since my parents were slain defending a city from a Grurak invasion...I've not had the scholarly type to talk too. All my friends these days are my guards, the other nobles make fun of me for that" Arthur said, patting the brooding guard's shoulder and laughing as brightly as the first dawn of summer.

"I feel now that training with you will be like the old days, when we were prominent in this city, and a dying family no longer," Arthur peered at Kenji as if he were a messenger of the gods, sent here to deliver the boy from his hard road. "When you're ready, come find me in my strategy room, perhaps you can provide insight as to how I could best use the family finances first. Then we will talk of this organization," and with that, he was gone. Kenji was left alone with the glowering guard.

"Hello Mr Guard, mind helping me up?" Kenji said, quite able to do so himself but nonetheless dedicated to the act. He couldn't see the man role his eyes beneath his thick iron helmet, but the swagger in his walk and the rough way he yanked Yenji to his feet, it all spoke volumes.

"Much obliged, now if you could show me where the toilet is, I would be thankful."

The guard gave Kenji a long look, then pointed to a chamber pot beneath his bed.

"Oh, eh, yes of course. How silly of me to forget," rummaging with his bandages and cloth, Kenji both didn't need to go to the toilet and didn't understand how to get his - device - out to operate the procedure with.

Yet the guard continued to stare, and Kenji felt abashed as he had to turn around and say,

"Mind if you pop out of the room for a bit? Can't go while you're watching."

The guard gave him a long look, turned, and stomped out. The wooden frame shuddered with the force of the door slamming shut, Kenji peering between his legs with concern.

"Maybe this species doesn't need to go?" he hoped.

"Indeed, they internally combust the waste material and excrete it as sweat," a familiar so close to perfect voice said. The woman appeared as a normal village girl. Messy chestnut hair, sunburnt skin dashed with freckles, and sky-blue eyes that analysed Kenji head to toe.

"I've been meaning to speak to you. What's with this body, why am I an old man bound in chains?"

"You're weak too, you would be powerless in a strong breeze. But that species you've started this game as has its advantages. For one, as part of the Mimic family, you do not need to breathe. Neither can you be poisoned, and you have a strong resistance towards blunt damage."

Kenji thought that very useful if he ever needed to win a bet of who could hold their breath the longest, but wasn't planning on doing much deep-sea diving in a monster-infested world. Yet he did appreciate the poison part. The period dramas he loved to watch had been so full of rich Lords poisoning one another that he hadn't even yet touched the soup for fear of betrayal. Confident in his promised immunity, Kenji finally attempted to sate some of his hunger.

"But that alone isn't enough to make you as rare as you were. No, any Mimic can do as much as that." Kenji looked up mid-scoop to find the woman showing him was seemed to be her favourite finger, a bright girlish grin letting loose dark cracks around her mouth.

"So, does it happen to work with my missing mouth?" The reason Kenji had looked up mid-scoop to begin with, was because there was no mouth to be found beneath his beard. He didn't know how he was even breathing. It was rather worrying to discover soon after, that his chest did not, in fact, move as was the custom for living beings.

"Put your hand in the bowl, it should come quite naturally. Any part of your body can consume sustenance, just like any truly civilised species. To think some lowly creatures must use intestinal tracts...disgusting." The woman spread fresh wrinkles about her little upturned nose.

Peering uncertainly at the hot soup, Kenji built up the courage. Diving two fingers in, he squeezed his eyes shut and yet was not immediately scalded. The soup drained away into his...stomache? Did he still have one of those?

All the same, Kenji was filled with heat and exhaled to fired steam into the air.

"Wait, if I can shoot steam, where is my mouth?" Searching again under his ragged beard Kenji found only bandage and chain.

"That's related to your special ability. You're a forbidden type of Mimic, an ancient variation of their ancestor species, the Changeling. You can make a mouth wherever you want a mouth really. But that's not the most important part, in three seconds the guard out there will die. Then you will eat his corpse."

Kenji dropped the spoon.

"I'll what?"