11:00pm
Ben & Friends — Local Diner
"Hey, Ben," I sighed, my voice drained as I stepped inside.
Ben looked up from behind the counter, worry flickering across his face.
"Hey, Paschar… you don't look too well."
"I'm fine," I replied flatly—though even I could hear how lifeless I sounded.
He hesitated. "The usual?" he asked, nervous.
"Yep."
I slid into my usual spot—the corner table facing the window, where the light barely reached and no one bothered me.
The diner bell suddenly rang.
A woman stepped inside.
She had pale skin and dark green hair, sharp white stripes cutting through her bangs. Her red irises stood out unnaturally against black pupils as her gaze swept across the room with quiet intensity. A katana rested at her left hip, secured by a worn belt, as if it were nothing more than an accessory.
She wore a black jacket lined with red on the inside, hanging loose over a red singlet. Black baggy trousers sat low on her hips, a thin strap of her black bra visible at her shoulder. Ink marked her skin—a tattoo of her family crest etched boldly near her collarbone.
Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail, the white streaks refusing to stay in place. A lollipop rested between her lips as she slowly looked around the diner, taking everything in.
And for a moment—
the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
She walked closer to me.
"Heeey, Adda," I said, forcing a tired smile. I could barely breathe from how exhausted I was.
"You look like shit," she said casually. "You always look like shit—but today you look like worse shit."
She cracked the lollipop in her mouth and dropped into the seat opposite me, leaning back and glaring like she owned the place.
"Why did you make me come here?" she continued. "I have better things to do than this."
She glanced at the menu—really just a TV mounted on the wall—scrolling through it lazily.
The moment Ben noticed her, he rushed out from behind the counter.
"Miss Adda! So glad to see you again!" he said, grinning ear to ear, notebook already in hand. "What would you like to eat?"
"Hey," I muttered, annoyed. "You don't treat me like that."
He ignored me completely and started writing as Adda spoke.
"Two cakes stuffed with chocolate," she said flatly, eyes still on her phone. "And hot chocolate. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied, sweating slightly as he hurried back into the kitchen.
"Today isn't your cheat day," I said. "Why are you ordering sweets?"
"I wanna celebrate your misery," she replied without looking up.
"You—"
"Anyways," she cut in. "What are you waiting for? Tell me why you called me here."
I glanced toward the kitchen.
"Wait," I said quietly. "He's almost here."
"Don't tell me it's Raphael—"
She was cut off by the bell ringing.
A blond boy walked in.
His hair was a strange mix—golden blond on the outside, brown underneath, with small darker strands poking through. His eyes were striking: shimmering purple with a cyan blur around the pupils, almost unreal. He wore a baggy shirt, a red tie patterned with white zig-zag lines, and loose brown trousers.
He scanned the room nervously—then spotted me.
"Mr. Pascha—"
A punch landed square on his face.
He flew backward, flipping twice before crashing into a table. Chairs toppled, plates shattered, and food spilled everywhere as people screamed and rushed out of the diner.
Silence followed the chaos.
After the nuisance was dealt with, Raphael sat beside Adda at the edge of the booth, his cheeks swollen and red. Adda calmly ate another chocolate-stuffed cake like nothing had happened.
"So," I said, looking at her, "who's going to pay for that?"
"You, of course," she replied, mouth full.
"Why should I—?" I asked, shocked.
"Well, you're the man," she said, wiping her mouth casually.
"Oh, so now you're ladylike?" I snapped. "You could've just said you didn't bring cash."
"Tch."
"Excuse me," Raphael said softly, voice trembling. "Mr. Paschar… why am I here?"
I looked between Raphael and Adda and sighed.
"Well," I said, forcing a small smile that slowly faded, "we're going to the Bureau… to register ourselves as a team.