The next day . . .

Similar to yesterday, the streets of Blue Bark were nearly barren. And those who did hang around kept their sights glued to me, analyzing my every move.

Why do I get the feeling they're gonna rush me any second now?

*  *  *

"Night watch?"

"That's the plan," Pluto said. "I'll watch over the town for half of the night, then you switch with me for the rest. Not the beauty sleep we'd prefer, but this is the most sensible avenue."

"How do you know someone won't get taken in the day?"

"If the kidnappings had just started happening, I wouldn't rule out that possibility, but since they've been going on for a while, everyone here is now on their toes. Hell, they're giving even us the stink eye. The only time to snatch now would be when the majority of the town—"

"—is sleeping," I finished. "Their guard will be down."

My partner nodded to confirm.

"But while Blue Bark is snoozing," she said, "we'll be on high alert. As suspicious as it'll make us look, we'll walk around the town at night with our eyes peeled."

"What makes you think the kidnapper will act with us out?" I asked. "I mean, I have a gun, and you have a sword."

"That's very true. But you have to remember that we're both just girls. Not saying we're weak, but to some people, we may not look all that intimidating. If we're on the right track, the kidnapper will underestimate us; might even try to take us down." Pluto hardened her glare. "When that happens, we'll kick their teeth in and put an end to Blue Bark's nightmare."

*  *  *

Really, the meat of the plan wouldn't start until later tonight. Till then, Pluto suggested we try not to stand out too much. If we became too trustworthy to the townspeople, the kidnapper might find it harder to pin the problem on us.

Only issue: I was too nice for my own good. Leave it to Grandpa to teach me right about good morals and the like. Pair that with the nostalgia this town lent me and needless to say, I was sticking my nose any- and everywhere.

Case in point: an elderly woman struggling to lift some crates for her small shop. With frail bones, she had no choice but to weakly slide the boxes across the dirt, and even then, she barely made any progress.

"At this rate, I won't finish till daybreak," she groaned. "My back can't take much more of this."

I slowly scooted forth. "U-Um . . ."

The woman raised an eyebrow at me.

"The outsider," she said sternly.

"R-Right. I can help you move those if you'd like."

"Help me!? You think 'cause I'm old I need some charity!? Is that it!?"

"N-No! Not at all!"

This may have been a mistake.

The woman looked me up and down.

"I doubt you could do much anyhow," she spat. "These things weigh a ton, and you look like a wood pole. Probably some basic city gal."

. . .

Calling me thin is one thing, but questioning my status as "country bumpkin" is just insulting!

I rolled up my sleeves. "Step aside, lady."

I then started to move her crates with ease, lifting what seemingly had the weight of leaves.

The woman was genuinely impressed.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" she asked. "You're stronger than you look."

I grinned, my pride bright.

I didn't do all that farming with Grandpa for nothing.

As soon as I finished my business here, another voice, that of a man, called out to me from across the street.

"Hey, lassie! Think you can help me over here?"

He, too, had some boxes that needed moving.

Of course, I happily accepted the request.

Pretty soon, as my skills became more out in the open, more and more people asked for my help, the distance between me and Blue Bark gradually fading. What started as wary stares gradually shifted to grateful smiles and kind pats on the back.

"You're not too shabby, little miss!" an elder told me, petting my head. "Thanks a million!"

Through it all, that sense of nostalgia washed over me, and it felt, if only for a moment, that I was right back in Old Grove.

*  *  *

T-Tired . . .

In the dining hall, I leaned lazily over the table, my muscles and mind sore.

Across from me sat Pluto, who calmly sipped on a cup of tea.

"So, about not trying to stand out . . ." she said pointedly.

"I-I'm so sorry," I groaned. "One thing led to another, and I ended up getting wrapped up in my village ways."

Thankfully, my acquaintance smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna shame you for helping people. Let's just hope our kidnapper has the stones to attack us anyway."

One can only hope.

"That being said," Pluto said, "you sure you're gonna be all right for the first shift? I'd be happy to swap with you."

"I'll be okay." I tapped my palms against my cheeks, nudging my consciousness. "My body's already warmed up, so I might as well take advantage of it."

Nonetheless, I wouldn't mind some dinner.

From the backroom, I heard Miss Lovelock prepping ingredients.

With all the odd jobs, I sorta spaced on eating. But I'd hate to be a bother.

Luckily, my hunger slid to the back of my mind as I spotted a little rose sitting sleepily at the bottom of the staircase.

I bid farewell to Pluto and approached the tiny girl. "Rosemi? You okay?"

Despite her drowsiness, she lent me a warm smile. "Ah. Big Sis~. Hello~." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm waiting for Mommy to finish so she can tuck me in."

"Do you sleep in your own room?"

Rosemi shook her head. "Mommy and I sleep together, but sometimes, I get tired before she does."

Makes sense. When I was a kid, there were days I'd pass out before sunset.

I'm not sure if Miss Lovelock will be finishing any time soon, though. Judging by how packed those other people's crates were, she must have lots of stuff to go through herself.

I decided to take a lead.

"If you don't mind," I said, "I could tuck you in. Kids like you should go to bed as soon as they feel tired."

To my delight, the little rose seemed happy by the idea.

"Really?" she asked. "You'd do that?"

"Mm."

"Thank you, Big Sis~." Rosemi held her arms out for me to carry her.

We just met yesterday and you're already going this far. You are one trusting girl.

My lips curved sweetly, and I lifted the little rose, her weight no heavier than a mound of feathers. We then headed into her and Miss Lovelock's personal quarters, which, as expected, was a bit nicer than the ones Pluto and I had checked out. Nicer furniture. Better polished floors.

Almost reminds me of Miss Gura's room.

I brought Rosemi to her bed and tucked her in.

"Nice and cozy?" I asked.

"Nice and cozy." Rosemi lent me longing eyes. "Big Sis, please tell me a story."

"A story?" I smiled shyly. "Sorry, but I'm not good with those."

Grandpa never told me any.

"Please~," the little rose tried.

Tenderly, I caressed her cheek. "I really am sorry. I'd rather give you no story than a mediocre one. But maybe next time."

To my surprise, she got over my rejection quickly, her gaze lingering on my fingers.

"Then," Rosemi said, "can you tell me what happened to your hands?"

I flinched.

"They look like they hurt," she said.

I caressed my stitches. "They don't hurt." 

"Really? Then why do you always look so sad when you look at them?"

I . . . I do?

All this time, h-have I been looking at them . . . ?

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I suppose watching your family be slaughtered wasn't like a cloud that'd just pass; it was more like the rain, always drizzling in the back of my mind.

What I do with this rain is in my hands.

I crouched, wrapping my fingers around Rosemi's hand.

A deep breath. "These are my battle scars."

"Battle?" Rosemi repeated. "Big Sis, you were in a fight?"

"Mm. A very big fight. Although, their side was much bigger than ours." I glowered. "Honestly, I didn't see any chance of us winning."

My jaw quivered.

We were finished from the start . . .

From the shadows glimmered those glorious pieces of radiance.

"But," I said, "we didn't go down without a fight. We gave it everything we had, even with the odds stacked so hard against us."

The man of the candy shop.

The kind soul who had nurtured me from day one.

The bravest souls I ever knew.

"You lost?" Rosemi asked.

Most would think that. Most would think what happened was nothing more than a tragedy—an eclipse where no light had seeped through.

But if you look hard enough, you could see them: those wavering specks.

I smiled and asked, "I'm still here, aren't I?"

That only made the rose more confused.

"When all hope was lost, a hero opened the path for me," I said. "He paved the way so I could spread my wings. And while I haven't soared just yet, I'm starting to get my footing. The monsters couldn't take my flight. That's why I won."

Rosemi reveled in her awe.

"C-Can I fly too?" she asked.

I rubbed my fingertips against her forehead.

"Of course," I told her. "And don't be afraid of falling, 'cause I'll be right here to pick you back up. I'll make the path for you."

The young rose finally started to doze off.

"You make me brave, Big Sis . . ."

*  *  *

Whether it takes a few days or a few weeks, I'm not leaving this town till the problem is solved.

I marched through the silent streets of Blue Bark, the dead of night ripe as I lugged my rifle along. With not a single other soul present, I truly felt like I was the last girl on Moreida.

I know I have to get going. I know that in the grand scheme, these people are inconsequential. But I can't let this town rot.

I recalled the memories of today, how close everyone seemed once I'd broken through their cold shells.

Such an affable atmosphere.

I can't bring back Old Grove.

But I can make sure no one else has to go through that.

I stretched my fingers towards the ink-like sky.

I won't rest until this town is at peace once again.

"Hmm~. An interesting sight, indeed."

They scurried into my ears like centipedes, the syllables simple yet oh so eerie.

Upon one of the rooftops, a towering silhouette grinned down at me.

"A lost little lamb," it hissed.

"W-Who . . . ?"

In a single motion, the figure leapt off their position to meet me at ground level, across the street.

A man. A brawny, middle-aged man, his burly physique pressing tightly against his purple suit. From where the skin could be seen, I saw a hue akin to mud, digging deep into the rough texture and defined creases. Upon his head sat a smoothed-out top hat with dark curly hair spilling out from the sides to brush against his shoulder blades. In one hand, he held a sleek cane.

"I thought I heard footsteps." His voice was deep yet silk-like. "Shouldn't you be off in dreamville?"

I couldn't speak, my thoughts lodged in my throat.

But as I saw the unconscious child he hauled over his shoulder, I managed to utter my message.

"Rosemi . . . ?"