After the regular checkup, Dr. Gavial wanted to take me out drinking, and I turned her down. It's not that I don't like her or anything; I think she's a fine person. I just don't like things that are a pain in the ass. It's noisy as hell, there's alcohol, wrist wrestling, and inevitably, a little girl named Tomimi always shows up... Any single one of these things in isolation, I can probably deal with. Some, I might even call cute, but when you smash everything together, that's what you call a pain in the ass. I much prefer enjoying a glass of juice alone on the deck to spending a night at the bar. I'm almost out of juice. One nice thing about being alone is that it's comfy. One not-so-nice thing is the fact that you get bored easily. I open up my toolbox with the mod kit and start to do maintenance on my 'gun.' Guess it's one form of entertainment. Twenty seconds, it's completely disassembled. Eighty-one seconds, every part's squeaky clean. Thirty-five seconds, the lubricant on all the metal parts has been replaced. Fifteen seconds, the reassembly is complete. If the thing in my hand was the real deal, I'd be able to do a whole lot more with the mod kit. Unfortunately, it's just a weirdly-shaped crossbow that fires a special ink bullet. Doesn't actually use Originium or anything sensational like that. Some things only work in the right hands. Trying to force them onto others won't end well. Just as I was deciding if I wanted to get a second glass of juice, I hear a few other people step onto the deck. Other than the sound of their footsteps, they aren't making any other noises. The people wisely keep their distance from me and stop on the side of the deck. Before long, I hear a soft singing voice from them. I look back, and as expected, it's a group of Abyssal Hunters. As soon as I see the three of them, my heart starts to beat faster. I once told to the Doctor it was love at first sight, though of course that was a joke. In reality, my best guess was that this unusual physiological reaction was probably related to that incident when I was a child. But I've never asked about it, nor do I think about it much. Wouldn't be able to get any answers anyway, and all the thinking in the world wouldn't solve the problem. In the end, I'd just be causing extra issues for myself. And I have a hunch – it'd be a hundred times more of a pain in the ass than Gavial dragging me to a hundred bars for a hundred nights. So, as long as that thing stays far, far away from my daily life, I'm good. I have no desire to throw myself headlong into something that's gonna be a pain in the ass. But occasionally, every so often... When I close my eyes, I'll see that person. I have no idea who that person is, but I can tell, they're at the center of this whole mess. Someone wrapped in the smell of the sea, a robed Iberian... I stand up and sling the gun over my shoulder, pick up the only toolbox messy enough to be my own, and go to grab my second cup of juice.