"Well, she's kinda cranky."
"Kinda? You're being too kind," the girl replied with a knowing smile, lowering the pail with a resolute thud. "She's always been like that."
As she approached, Kiel had the chance to study her more closely. Her orange hair flowed in sleek, silky waves that framed her face and cascaded over her shoulders in stylish twin braids. Her eyes, a clear, cerulean blue reminiscent of a summer sky, radiated a warmth that hinted at a beautifully compassionate soul. Her nose, adorned with a sprinkling of freckles, was as delicate as autumn leaves scattered by a gentle breeze.
Her features were sharply defined; a sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, and an elegant, refined nose. She wore a flowing, light blue shirt that draped gracefully past her waist, paired with knee-length compression shorts. Kiel's gaze lingered on her face, captivated by the delicate movements and the nurturing grace she exhibited. Her smile—a gentle curve that spoke of shyness and kindness—was nothing short of breathtaking. The scent of earthy sandalwood and amber that lingered around her only added to her allure. To the casual observer, she was stunning. To Kiel, however, she was the most exquisite being he had ever encountered.
"Is something the matter?" She asked softly, her voice like a gentle breeze.
Kiel's jaw had dropped in surprise, only to snap shut with a sharp click as he chastised himself for his lapse in composure. His hands moved with a fluid, hesitant grace as he signed, "Uh, no, nothing's wrong. I was just lost in thought."
"Oh, what about?" She inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"About the first time we met," The younger Kaiju cut in, the girl's gaze flicking toward her brother. "The fact is, I didn't want his help back then. I didn't need it." His words were directed pointedly at Kiel, rather than his sister.
The girl's expression shifted suddenly, her brow furrowing into a frown that momentarily dimmed her beauty. Yet, even in her frustration, Kiel found her captivating. After a brief silence, marked only by a deep, exasperated sigh, she turned her gaze back to Kiel.
When she smiled again, it was nothing short of enchanting.
In that fleeting moment, she transformed before his eyes. One second, she was a concerned sister, her stern demeanor as sharp as a winter wind. The next, she became a vision of serene warmth, her smile a beacon of kindness that lit up the room. Kiel couldn't help but be mesmerized—this girl, with her effortless grace and genuine compassion, was truly exceptional.
"Well, I must apologize for my brother's apparent rudeness. As always," she said, her grin playful yet sincere, her gaze flickering between Kiel and her brother. She gave him a look that was both tender and maternal.
"Oh, it's okay," Kiel signed in awe, his hands conveying the message with a touch of tentative grace. Then he paused, surprise flickering across his face. "Wait, you can understand me?"
"Mhm," she replied with a nod, her hands fluidly reinforcing her words. "I completed a four-year course in sign language. Papa believes it fosters inclusivity and enriches a diverse workforce."
The revelation hit Kiel like a warm wave, enveloping him in a profound sense of relief and connection. For so long, he had been isolated by his inability to communicate freely, his thoughts and feelings locked behind an impenetrable barrier. But now, in this quiet, intimate moment, that barrier was shattered.
But just as he began to embrace this newfound peace, the serenity was abruptly shattered by the sudden and shocking sensation of ice being plopped onto his head.
"Gah, that's cold!" Kiel signed frantically, his hands darting about in a flurry of distress, his face contorted in response to the biting chill.
"Well, you wouldn't feel the cold so much if you'd just stop squirming, you big green baby."
"Baby?!" Kiel's hands flashed with indignation. "If your brother hadn't clobbered me with that frying pan hidden under the bed," he tapped the wooden frame beneath him for emphasis, "I probably wouldn't even need the ice! And don't think I didn't see you, you peculiar Kaiju kid. You're not so slick. I saw you." His hands punctuated the accusation, directed at the astonished Kaiju.
With that, Kiel relaxed back onto the bed, a wave of relief washing over him. The pain from his fall had dulled, and the comforting embrace of the bed, along with the pause for rest, had significantly buoyed his spirits.
It seemed all he needed was a reprieve from his troubles.
In fact, he was feeling notably rejuvenated. Watching the girl intently focus on her task, he decided it was only fair to share his newfound cheerfulness. "Hey," he signed, his fingers moving with a deliberate, solemn grace, "is he really your brother?"
"Certainly," she replied, her confidence evident, her hands subtly reinforcing her words. "Why? We don't we look alike?" She continued, her gaze shifting toward the young Kaiju leaning against the wall, arms folded, his expression a mask of indifference.
"Oh, no. No, no, no! It's not that at all," Kiel signed quickly, his hands moving in a flurry of animated gestures. "It's just... well, he's not—"
"Human?" She finished for him, her tone calm and understanding. As she gently placed the ice bag back into the pail, she retrieved a length of bandage from her pocket. With practiced ease, she began wrapping it around Kiel's bruised arm. "Well, he is, but just a bit different. His long, pointed ears are simply traits of unique genetics. Beyond that, he's just your typical stubborn, annoying, and impatient little brother."
"Hey! I'm right here, you know!" The boy scoffed, eliciting a soft chuckle from his sister. Turning to Kiel, he continued, "And by the way, I didn't ask you to do that. I didn't need anyone to save me! So you... you did this of your own accord. You brought this on yourself," he said, jabbing an accusing finger at Kiel.
"I know," Kiel replied calmly. "I got tired of hearing them talk that way about us. You see those posers all over the place. It's a harsh world out there, as I've come to realize. So, us 'monsters'... we've got to stick together, you know?" He finished with a reassuring smile.
"Oh! Well, uh, get better soon, I guess," he said, his voice tinged with reluctant sympathy. "I've had enough chaos for one day. I'd prefer not to have someone's last words lingering in my room." With a final glance, he left, the door clicking softly behind him. As the room settled into quiet, the girl began to speak.
"Huh. You had him speechless for a moment there. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?" The girl said with a playful grin.
Kiel turned to her, his curiosity piqued. "So, what about you? Who are you people?"
"What?" She replied, her surprise evident as she processed his abrupt question.
"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but most folks, when they find someone like me, they call the police. They turn me in. So, why didn't you? Why don't you?" Kiel signed, his hands moving with a mixture of curiosity and cautious hope.
"Now I'm confused. Do you want people to trust you, or do you prefer when they don't?" She asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity, her hands subtly mirroring her words.
"I didn't ask you to do that," Kiel signed, his gestures sharp with frustration. "I don't want you risking everything for my sake. You humans keep doing the dumb thing."
"Fuck," the girl responded, her voice tinged with exasperation. "You're welcome?"
"Look, I'm not saying you're stupid. You're clearly smart. So what's your angle?"
"My angle?"
"Yeah, your angle."
"My angle is… that sometimes, people don't have an angle, okay? Sometimes, they're just actual human beings being human." She paused, her eyes softening. "You stood up for him, remember? My brother, Kiki. No one's ever done that for him, except Mom, of course. And why would they? Look at him. As you said, he's... not human."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
As Astra held her ground, her gaze was drawn to a family portrait resting on a drawer nearby. The polished wood frame encased a memory of untainted joy—Astra, her brother Kiki, and their parents, all grinning beneath the warm glow of a sunlit day. The smiles in the photograph, once symbols of a carefree life, now felt distant, almost mocking in their innocence.
With deliberate slowness, Astra reached out, her fingers grazing the cool glass of the frame. She hesitated for a heartbeat, as if touching those memories might shatter the fragile barrier between the person she once was and the person she had become. Then, with quiet resolve, she turned the photo face down, as though burying the purity of those times beneath the weight of the present. It was a small act, but it spoke volumes—a silent acknowledgment that the girl in that picture was gone, replaced by someone who had seen too much, endured too much.
"It's fine," Astra said, her voice steady but shadowed with a quiet melancholy. "You can't really apologize for speaking the truth, can you?" Her gaze lowered, the words heavy with a mix of sorrow and resignation. The girl in that photo had no idea how quickly innocence could be stripped away. "About what happened in that alleyway," she continued, her tone softening like the first breath of winter, "Kiki told me everything you did for him." A faint, bittersweet smile flickered across her lips, fleeting and fragile. "He called it incredibly foolish, stupid, and reckless. So, there's that."
"Oh."
"But he also said it was brave," she added, focusing on her task with renewed intensity. "Admirable. Noble. And for that, he's grateful." As she finished securing the bandage around his bruised arm, her smile was warm and sincere. "I'm grateful."
Kiel felt an unexpected warmth rising to his cheeks.
It flushed with a warm pink hue, betraying his embarrassment. He sighed, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, he certainly has a unique way of expressing himself. Could I at least learn your name? I've already got his down, if that counts for something."
"Think you can pronounce it?" She asked with a teasing glint in her eye.
"Try me," he replied with a confident smirk.
"Okay. Just... don't laugh, alright? It's not exactly the most common name... ever."
"But I'd never laugh at you," Kiel assured, his smile unwavering.
The girl looked at him with a steady gaze, her eyes betraying a mix of amusement and hesitation. "Alright," she said, her voice taking on a tone of quiet resolve. With a deep breath, she enunciated with precision, "ASTERIALNAUCHSECCIN ELSPETH KATSURAGI!"