“So... what do you want?”

“I can't read the menu."

“Oh right,” Alfred mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he glanced back down at the menu.

After we finished sorting the files, Alfred took us to a cafe amongst a strip of stalls near the funeral home. It was essentially a glorified quaint nook on the corner of the street, but at least was somewhat quiet except for the faint chatter coming from the other customer.

His finger drifted between all the different items on the menu as he began to read them aloud for me. “Let’s see, they have cakes, croissants, doughnuts…”

As expected, I had no idea what any of those different items were, so it wasn't useful to have him read it anyway.

“What will you be having?”

“Me? I’d usually go for a muffin or something.”

“Then I will have the muffin.”

Alfred gave me a look, raising an eyebrow before shrugging. “Well, if you say so.”

He walked up to the counter, and I stood quietly against the wall as I waited for him to make the order. A few minutes later, he returned with two strange pieces of food in his hands. I assumed those were the ‘muffins’, but I hadn't expected them to be so... brown.

“I didn’t know which you’d like so I got blueberry and banana," he said, holding them both out to me with an expectant look.

I glanced between the two, narrowing my eyes with a scrutinising gaze as I assessed the exterior of these two 'muffins' and their peculiar shape. After a few seconds, I decided on the one with blue spots across it and took it from him.

"Thank you."

He let out a soft hum in response, barely acknowledging me before walking towards the door.

“Let’s head back now.”

He held it open for me, letting me step out first as a cool breeze hit my face and blew against the thin fabric of my shirt, before closing the door behind him. He was silent as he walked back down the street, barely waiting for me to follow after him.

It was already dark. The street lamps had already turned on, casting their sporadic pools of light onto the road and illuminating passers-by. As we walked, silence came over us again, but I didn't mind since that allowed me to focus on everyone else around us. Even here, I couldn't help but mentally keep track of every person who passed by, dividing my attention between pedestrians and vehicles driving past.

But occasionally, I did notice Alfred glancing in my direction, though I didn't comment on that. Instead, I again looked down at the muffin still in my hand, twisting it around and studying every side of it.

After my inspection, I eventually brought it to my lips and took a small bite. As I chewed on it and the crumbs filled my mouth, this unfamiliar flavour reached my tongue. It wasn't anything like my rations as it wasn't too stale or soggy and more akin to a soft crumbling.

And the strangest thing of all was that it wasn't disgusting.

“So, how is it?” he asked, eyeing me as I swallowed that bite.

“It’s sweet.”

“Yeah, muffins usually are."

He took a bite of his own, munching down it as he stole another glance in my direction.

"Is something wrong?" I finally asked, wondering what exactly was so distracting for him.

"Why would you say that?"

"You keep looking at me."

"I––" he cut himself off, his cheeks growing slightly pink as he averted his eyes, "I mean, something has been bothering me."

"And what exactly?"

"It's you. I don't get why you're here. So be honest, but do you even want to work for the funeral home? Because from the looks of it, you're only here because of the director."

So that's what he wanted to know.

I didn't answer immediately, staying quiet for a few seconds as I considered his question.

“Not necessarily. I'm not sure how much longer I'll stay here, but I don't mind the work for now."

“Honestly, I don’t think it’d be so bad if you continued working here.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, trying to discern whether he was being sarcastic or not as he usually was with Davis. But, I couldn't tell.

Another wave of silence washed over us as only the sound in the air was the constant echo of footsteps against the pavement and engines roaring past.

“Sir, can I ask how old you are?” I asked, being the one to break the silence this time.

“Why do you want to know?”

“The director said you were around my age, yet you still called me a child earlier.”

“Well, you’re the one who won’t quit it with the honorifics,” he retorted, taking another bite from his muffin. “But if you really had to know, I turned twenty-one a few months ago.”

“I see,” I said, taking one last bite from the muffin before finishing it off.

He was younger than I thought.

“And what about you?”

“Eighteen or nineteen. I’m unsure exactly.”

"So you don't even have a birthday either?" he questioned with a loud sigh as he slumped his shoulders. "Either way, looks like I'm older so I can call you a 'kid', can't I?"

"I don't believe that's how it works."

He scoffed, shaking his head with disbelief which almost hid the slight look of amusement in his eyes. “But seriously though, we should figure out a name for you soon."

He stopped walking as he reached the funeral home, but strangely, the front door was already cracked open, letting a thin stream of light outside. Alfred reached for the door handle, about to push it open fully when a voice from inside made him stop in his tracks.

“Edwin, are you sure it’s a good idea to have that girl working here?”

When Alfred and I both heard that familiar voice, we both grew to silence.

“Look, it’s best for her to stay here with me while I sort everything out.”

“But the fact you’ve barely told us anything makes everything so much more concerning. And that's not even mentioning the fact she doesn't even have a name yet. Don't you see how strange that is to us?"

I could hear Davis let out a heavy sigh from the other side of the door, his voice growing more weary.

“I’m trying to help her out, Fran, and she doesn’t need her business shared with everyone here.”

"I can understand that and I also want to make sure that child will be taken care of, but something about this is just... off. So please, don't do anything that might threaten you or anyone else here."

“What the hell are they talking about?” Alfred grumbled under his breath in a low voice. “They shouldn’t be talking about you behind your back like this.”

His fist clenched and fingers dug into his palm as his other hand tightened around the door handle. I could see he was about to shove it open and presumably barge into the conversation, but before he could, I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

He froze, turning to face me with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"

“Sir, I believe you've worked enough today.”

“What are you trying to say right now?”

“You should go home and get some rest.”

“But––“

“Please go home, Alfred.”

It was the first time I called him by just his name, and that was enough for him to hesitate. It was obvious he wanted to say something, to do something, but he gritted his teeth and held his tongue back.

“Fine,” he relented with a begrudging tone. He took a few steps back from the door, but his eyes lingered on me. “Are you going to be alright? I can still talk to them if you’d like.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your work today.”

“Yeah, you too.”

I watched as he walked away from the funeral home, seeming reluctant with each step and occasionally turning over his shoulder to look at me. Yet slowly but surely, he moved further away until he disappeared into the night completely.

I turned back to the door, still hearing those two voices from inside the parlour. I’d realised that if I allowed Alfred to barge in, that would only cause more discourse among the staff here, and there was no need for that to happen because of me.

I wouldn't become an inconvenience.

So I quietly shut the door, carefully to not make a single sound. I turned around and made my way back into the street where I could lose myself in sparse crowds. I wasn't sure where I was headed exactly, but I didn't care. Perhaps if I walked far enough, by the time I returned, the pair would've finished their conversation and I'd be able to act as though nothing ever happened.

My shoulders were tense as I weaved through an oncoming stream of people, and my eyes couldn't stop flickering between all their hands. Every time someone reached into their pockets or coats, my caution immediately heightened and failed to drop even when they didn't pull out a weapon. All I could do was avoid making eye contact and keep mentally taking note of everyone who walked past.

But then, someone's shoulder roughly collided against mine, sending me straight towards the ground, but I managed to catch my fall with my hands. My palms scraped against the pavement, ripping into my skin. I reached for my holster, but as I touched my belt, I realised it wasn't there.

I didn't have one anymore.

“Hey, watch it!”

I didn’t bother to see the raging expression he must’ve had or the looks from passersby sent in my direction. I just quickly stood, not even brushing myself off, and kept walking away. Each of my legs moved in front of the other without stopping as I faded back into the crowd.

Every building and street was unfamiliar, not just because I was in a foreign city but also because they were all intact. I'd never seen so many that hadn't disintegrated into rubble, but I didn't dally on them as I kept my vision narrowed. Only the glow of the moon lit the path ahead of me.

Eventually, I reached an empty street with only a few buildings with their lights on. I stopped by a wall and leaned back against it, slowly sliding down to the ground. There was a faint smell of blood in the air, and when I looked down to my hands, I noticed a cut along my palm that was leaking blood.

What a damn nuisance.

At least the scar was already beginning to stitch itself back together as the skin closed in on itself. I let out a heavy sigh, wrapping my arms around my legs and pulling them closer to my chest.

There was no one else around me, and the only sounds came from inside a nearby building. The muffled chatter and laughter bled into one. There was a sign right outside it, and though I couldn't read it, the scent of alcohol reeked from inside so I assumed it must've been a bar of sorts.

But, I tried my best to ignore all that racket and I closed my eyes. The chatter, thoughts and noise all began to obscure away as I only felt the wind swaying around me.

That was until a voice decided to interrupt the peace I’d just found.

“It’s a lovely night, don’t you think?”