《The Espresso Drive-Thru at the End of the World》3.2 - Quiet Evening
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We didn’t speak much the rest of the workday, and that was perfectly fine by me. The sensation was similar to when you have an argument with your coworker, or your spouse, or your family member and were then forced to spend the rest of your day with them. Except that this coworker watched you work from afar without moving an inch. It would be a lot creepier if it wasn’t so impressive.
By the time 7PM rolled around, I was ready to get the hell to sleep. As I turned on the car, Malquea sat in the passenger side.
“I noticed you got slower after lunch,” she said.
“It happens,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“What are you serving for dinner?” she said.
“I dunno. We can pick up something on the way there. I’d rather just make something at home.”
“Might I suggest… toast?” She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Just bread and butter? You sure you don’t want something more nutritious? Or filling?” Malquea shook her head. It was cute.
I served dinner on my tiny table. A plateful of toast for Malquea, and a noodle dish cobbled with whatever I could get out of the fridge.
“Enjoying your carbs?” I said to her.
“Is that another word for bread?” she said with an unassuming smile on her face.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Then very much so.”
I realized that I knew next to nothing about this woman. This was as good an opportunity as any to get to know her.
“Exactly how old are you, Malquea?” I said. She had a youthful appearance, with her skin a flawless shade of olive. The way she carried that big-ass sword around also led me to believe that she wasn’t old enough to suffer from typical joint pain. Then again, I had no idea how things worked where she was from.
“How many 24 hour days are there in this planet?” she said.
“Typically 365, but it’s 366 every four years.”
“Interesting,” said Malquea. “In that case…” She looked up at the ceiling, her eyes trying to trace a path of whatever math she was doing. When she was done, she raised her finger.
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“I’m 94 years old in your calendar.”
What?
“Y-You sure that’s the case?” I said.
“Hold on, let me check my math again.” She used her fingers to trace lines in the sky, then came up with a number.
“I am 28 years old, per your world’s rules. At what life stage would that put me in?”
I probably should have thought about my answer more, but instead I spat it out.
“You’re kind of expected to have your life together. At least, that’s what all my friends from college and high school are like. Some even have kids. Me, on the other hand, I made one life change about a year back and it’s like starting over from zero.”
“Interesting,” said Malquea. “Do you have a child, Leo?”
“I don’t. Do you?”
“Maybe I do,” she said, closing her eyes and putting on a wry smile. “Then again, maybe I don’t.”
“Which is it?”
“This work routine of yours,” she started, passing on my question, “how often do you do it?”
“Let’s see… It depends, I guess. Our weeks are seven days long. Usually I work every single day, and I have a part-timer take care of some of the other hours. If I’m feeling really burnt out, I might take a Sunday off and have them take care of it for me.”
“Tomorrow, I would like to make a request,” she said. “Although your work-life is rather mundane—nothing like slaying dragons, you see—I find myself invested in it. Would it be possible for you to take me to see one of your competitors tomorrow?”
I was pleasantly taken aback. It was something that I should do more often. It would force me to close shop a little earlier, but Big Gusto rarely received customers past 5:30PM.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
“You’d do well to heed my recommendations,” she said, folding her arms in front of her.
“About that… what makes you so confidant? We’re talking about a business that doesn’t exist in your world, using technology that you’re totally unfamiliar with.”
“The fact that you think this is a problem specific to your tiny little hole shows how ignorant you are.”
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“Excuse me?” I hated how she could get so high and mighty so fast.
“Victory, be it in war or in business, is achieved using similar means. Outmaneuvering your enemy, securing your supply chain, ensuring you are quick to make changes. It’s all the same.”
“I’m convinced,” I said, nodding.
“Indeed. As the Lord of Lords, if I had to raise my sword in battle it means that I had already lost.”
“Does that mean you lost often?”
She was taken aback by the question. “That’s… That’s a story for another time,” she said, scratching her chin.
“I am tired,” she said, pushing herself off the table.
“Yeah, no problem,” I said. I went to my closet and got a heavy set of blankets, along with a pillow. “You can sleep in the sofa.”
“That looks uncomfortable,” she said. “And it has blood stains on it.”
“It’s your fault! That’s your blood!” I said, dropping the sheets on the ground.
“Do you forget that you’re dealing with royalty, Leo? I require far more than this.”
“…Fine. I’ll sleep here and you can take the bed.”
She pursed her lips, as if something I said was not clicking with her.
“Your bed is big enough for two people, isn’t it? Why don’t you take advantage of the space?”
“I… Uh… Are you sure?” I said. It was an unusual request.
“Is that not the custom in this world?”
“People usually only do it if they’re in relationships, or if they’re siblings.”
“Ah, I see. When my small army and I launched months-long campaigns, we would seek refuge in abandoned towns. There were never enough beds for everyone, so we all shared. Why, I could pack 4 men and women into one bed such as this. To not use a bed to its fullest capacity is, in my opinion, a grave sin.”
I scratched my head. She seemed to take this whole bed issue very seriously, so I didn’t see myself having any choice but to go along with it.
“Fine by me, then,” I said.
“Excellent,” said Malquea, smiling. “And don’t worry; I know you are a man with underdeveloped muscles, so if any bandits come to attack in the night, I will protect you.”
I was far, far too tired to respond to such an obvious jab. Hell, I was too tired to even take a shower. I handed Malquea a change of clothes and we both went to bed. She spread herself over the covers, giving me a small corner to cuddle into.
“For saying you can fit four people here, you sure are taking a lot of space,” I told her.
“I am merely testing something,” she said. “If my muscles are as unconstrained as possible, maybe it will speed up the process of repairing my mana circuits.”
“Good luck with that,” I said.
The first hour passed and I couldn’t fall asleep. It sucked, but there was nothing I could do about it; my first day with Malquea was as exhausting as it was exciting. Far too much had been crammed into a single day, leaving me dizzy. In a weird way, it left me anticipating tomorrow’s events.
“Hey, Malquea,” I said. My voice pierced the night, itself silent save for the sound of the occasional engine purr as it passed in front of my building.
“Yes?” she said. I couldn’t detect tiredness from her voice, which led me to believe she was feeling similar to me.
“Are you awake?”
“What a stupid question. I answered you, didn’t I?”
“Right,” I said. “Would it be possible for me to call you Mal from now on?”
She thought about it for a second. The silence was anguishing. What did I care if she said no? I didn’t quite understand my own feelings, or even what led me to ask her in the first place.
“That’s acceptable,” she said.
With that thought, I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
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