We didn't speak for a while.
Not because there wasn't anything to say—actually, I had a million questions, including:
Why does this random person know how to throw a dagger and smile at the same time?
Why is my entire nervous system performing jazz hands?
And—what on earth is happening right now???
But, no. We were hiding.
In a bell tower.
For reasons that may or may not involve several guards getting hurt, a fruit cart explosion, and me accidentally headbutting a noblewoman.
They sat across from me, cloak crooked, boots caked with rooftop grime, breathing lightly, as if this were just another Tuesday. Like they hadn't just yanked me out of a potential assassination disaster and somehow vaulted over a bakery sign with me flailing like a frantic bat clinging to their cloak.
Meanwhile, I was still trying to recall how lungs functioned.
Finally, I spoke. "Okay. So. Hi."
Their eyes flicked toward me. Peaceful. Amused. Their face, annoyingly perfect in a way that made me want to throw something at it.
"Hi."
"Thanks for not killing me in a horrible way," I added because, despite everything, I'm nothing if not polite during identity crises.
They tilted their head. "It's not every day I rescue someone who screams 'THE WINDOW WAS A LIE' while fleeing an assassination."
"In my defense," I told them, "it was a very convincing window."
A beat passed. They smiled. It was a tiny, devastating smile.
I glared at them. "Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"That… face thing."
"My face?"
"Yes."
They gave me a look. "You're very strange."
"Says the mysterious rooftop-knife-wielding person."
??? The Curious Pull
I should've been suspicious. I should've been thinking about how to run, or where to stab if needed. But instead, I was staring at them thinking:
Why do you feel like a memory I don't even have yet?
They folded their arms, elbows resting on their knees, gazing at me like I was some convoluted puzzle wrapped in a flour sack and questionable life choices.
"Your name?" they asked.
I stalled. It had only been a day since I woke up as a human, and I wasn't sure whether I should respond with "Mochi," "Murder Cat Extraordinaire," or something more assassin-like, like "Venom Stiletto."
"…Mochi," I finally said. "Probably."
They blinked. "Like the rice cake?"
"Exactly like the rice cake."
Their mouth twitched again. I started to think this was their version of an actual laugh.
"You?"
They hesitated. "Call me… Rael."
"Real?"
"No. Rael. R-A-E-L."
"Sounds fake."
"It is."
"Nice. We're both lying. Friendship unlocked."
They didn't deny it. Didn't confirm it either.
??? Something Strange
As the bells from below started ringing curfew, I found the courage to ask, "Why'd you save me?"
Rael didn't respond immediately.
They stared at me, brow furrowed, like they were still figuring that part out.
"I don't know," they finally said. "You just… looked like someone I shouldn't let die."
I stared.
"That's either incredibly sweet," I said, "or a very weird pick-up line."
"Why not both?"
I buried my face in my hands. "This is the worst start to a love story ever."
Rael cocked their head. "Love story?"
"I said nothing."
??? A Bell. A Panic. A Leap.
Suddenly, the bell rang again.
Guards.
Voices.
Footsteps pounding up the stairs.
Rael stepped forward, grabbing my wrist. "We need to leave."
"There's no place to go!"
"There's always somewhere."
I peered over the edge. A drop that would surely end with me splattered across the cobblestones below.
"You want me to jump?" I spat.
Rael smiled—infuriatingly, magnetically maddening.
"Trust me."
"I don't know you!"
"Then learn after we don't get arrested for attempted homicide."
I hesitated.
The guards were nearly there. The door was shaking.
Rael's hand was warm, firm around mine.
I jumped.
We plummeted.
Cape billowing. Stars twirling. Wind whipping in my ears. My own scream coming out as a frantic warble of "OH NOPE NOPE NOPE—"
Rael laughed.
And in that moment, I understood:
This was going to be a disaster.
A confusing, chaotic, completely absurd disaster.
But somehow… I couldn't wait for the next chapter.