"Speech"
'Thoughts'
["Speech Through Technology"]
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…
"What can I get for you today, sir?"
"Uhh, can I get some boneless wings?"
"Sir, are you talking about... chicken nuggets?"
"No, I want boneless wings."
"We don't serve that here, sir. This is a pizza restaurant. We do have chicken nuggets, though."
"Nah, it's fine. I'm going to go. Have a nice day."
As I watched him walk out of the restaurant, I was dumbfounded. Motherfucker asked for boneless wings and then described chicken nuggets, and when I asked if he meant chicken nuggets, he said no!
I couldn't believe the idiocy I had heard. "Malo, please tell me you heard what I heard." Malo gave me a nod, and I slowly began slouching.
That man wasted five minutes of my life—five minutes I would have liked to use better! I swear, one of these days, I'm going to do something I regret.
At least I had Malo's antics to calm my frustration. The change in demeanor from what I had originally seen was astounding. It was an increase similar to giving a depressed guy a supermodel-tier girlfriend who actually loved him for him.
But didn't I read somewhere that Malo knew sign language? I would have to keep that in mind later and learn the language for her.
Everyone was still in their usual spots. Lucas was in the kitchen, doing nothing. Ashley and Amelia were in the break room, doing whatever.
The day was sort of tame compared to the life-or-death scenarios I was going through previously. I could honestly get used to these kinds of slow days.
As I slouched over the counter, I heard a noise come from behind me. It was Lucas. He had both hands in his pockets as he walked up to the counter.
His gaze was directed towards the front door, not paying me any mind.
"So, how's life going for you?" Lucas asked, his voice and eyes sounding and looking distant.
"I mean, it could be worse," I replied. It really could have been worse. After all, at least I wasn't in Berserk.
"You're right about that; it could always be worse. Any children?"
I gave him a bombastic side-eye. How old did this guy think I was?
"Dude, I'm only 18. I sure as hell ain't got any kids." I said, and Lucas turned with a shocked expression.
"For real? I thought you were around 25."
"Do I look that old?!"
"Nah, you give off this mature feeling, like you've seen the worst things imaginable and kept going." My eyes widened imperceptibly at that answer. I never knew what my resting face looked like to others. The killing must have taken a toll on me.
"Well, how's the family life then?" Lucas lifted his hand in a half-assed shrug.
"Family life?" I paused for a minute. If I were to count my original family, then it was great, but as I was now Dante. "I don't know my parents. I have someone who takes care of me but leaves for long periods of time, and I'm alone in the house I live in."
"Damn," Lucas's distant gaze disappeared, his head turning toward me as the reality of my situation sank into his consciousness. "And I thought I had it rough."
I only looked at him questioningly, as if nonverbally asking him to continue. Thankfully, he seemed to get the message.
"My parents kicked me out when I was 13. There wasn't anything special with the date or any other meaningful reason. They just didn't want to take care of me anymore. After that, I went through multiple orphanages until I was old enough to get a part-time job." As Lucas told his story, it really opened my eyes a bit more to every person in this reality.
There's always a transmigrator or reincarnator that thinks the world they are in to be fiction or the people to be fake. I've always hated that line of thinking. Even if they are fake, give them the decency of treating them like they are real.
Even if you don't believe it, even if you know them to be fake, treat them with the same respect you do yourself. However, that doesn't mean I think anyone in this world is fake.
"Anyways, I don't want to bore you with my sob story. I just wanted to let you know that everyone here has their own little backstory. Like a gang of rejects, if you would.
Life is looking up for me, though. I'm moving out and into an actual house for the first time in my life. It should be in only a week." As Lucas finished speaking, I gave him a congratulatory nod and a smile.
"How did you do it?" That question caused Lucas to look at me in confusion. "Get through all of it, I mean."
"Don't get me wrong, some days I thought of ending it all. Some days got me so low I thought that ending it would be easier." As Lucas spoke, his voice grew more and more depressed. He looked to be remembering something. "And when I was at my lowest, I pictured someone lower than I was. I thought to myself, 'If that person can do it, then why am I sitting here and crying?!' So, I stood up, gritted my teeth, planted my feet, and took it all on the chin like a champ."
"Remember this, Dante." The look in Lucas's eyes changed. This wasn't about throwing a pity party or feeling sorrow for his past. "A man is only defeated when he thinks he is. As long as that man has the will to get back up, he will. Your life may be hard, and my life may be hard, but that doesn't mean we should give up."
In the moment, Lucas's words were strangely motivating. I could only give a nod, my facial expression returning to an expressionless one.
With that being said–
"Which animal do you think you can take in a fight?" Upon asking this question, the serious atmosphere shattered into nothing.
"Man..." Lucas began rubbing his chin, a large grin forming on his face. "I think I could handle a wolf. Let it get my arm, then get it in either a chokehold or stab it through both eyes with my fingers."
"Respectable choice, respectable choice!" We both nodded to that.
"Are you working on the assumption that you'll get prep time or a weapon?"
"Nah, I was just thinking if it was me and the wolf. We both spawned in front of each other. No weapons or prep time for either of us."
For an hour after that, Lucas and I went over multiple different topics of conversation. Eventually, it was my time to depart, as my shift was over.
"Alright, I'll be seeing you, my boy," Lucas said as he held his hand out.
"Alright, see you tomorrow." I said as both our hands grasped each other and made a perfect "clap" sound.
Walking out of the restaurant, I turned to Malo. "Sorry if you were a bit bored listening to us." She gave me a shake of the head as if to say she didn't mind.
"Oh, yeah. Malo," I had been saving this for a while. I wanted to make signs and signals for her to physically move me forcibly in a fight. "You know how you can only move me? I wanted to make a way we both could fight to our full potential."
Malo seemed extremely excited. After all, I don't think she's ever done any fighting. Technically, she wouldn't be doing any fighting, but she would be a supporter.
From our first physical encounter, she made it apparent that she didn't want me to get hurt. So, my plans would include that.
...
(A/N: I may or may not be sitting on chapters instead of posting. I was supposed to have one of my friends read through the story with me for inputs and to look for grammar mistakes but I ended up not only getting swarmed by college work, besieged by lack of motivation, but also because that friend HAD BEEN DUCKING ME FOR THE PAST THREE FUCKING WEEKS. When you see this chapter "HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED" you will know this was for you.
P.S: KIRBY!! THE TOP SPOT IS MINE,)