Übel and Fern

After finding a place to sit and rest for a while, and finishing their Meow Meow Chocolate, Lorenzo looked at Übel.

"Where are you planning to go next?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Übel leaned back in her chair, her tone casual.

"My sister told me to be back before dinner. Other than that, I can do whatever I want."

"We're going to watch the street performances, and there's a float parade this afternoon. Since we ran into each other, do you want to come with us?"

Lorenzo said.

"Sure, no problem."

The three left their seats and returned to the Holy City's main thoroughfare.

As the morning wore on, more and more people had come to attend the festival. The stalls on both sides of the street were surrounded by crowds, and passersby were packed almost shoulder to shoulder. A moment's inattention could easily leave them separated.

Music drifted from a distance, mingled with vendors' calls and children's laughter. The entire city seemed filled with the noise of the festival.

"Stay close. There are too many people here, and it'll be a hassle if we get separated."

Lorenzo turned to warn them. No sooner had he spoken than Übel reached out and took Fern's hand.

"I won't get lost."

Fern looked down at their joined hands.

"That's what little kids who get lost usually say."

"But Übel, you're hardly any older than me."

Übel puffed out her chest slightly.

"But I'm still older, so it's my responsibility to look after you."

"I don't need looking after."

"Then you can look after me instead."

"Isn't that the other way around?"

Though Fern said that, she didn't pull her hand away. Of course, it was also possible she had tried but hadn't managed to pull it free.

After following the sound of the music for a short while, the three arrived at an open space surrounded by a crowd.

Several street performers were putting on a show.

A man in a feathered hat stood in the middle of the crowd, continuously tossing small balls of different colors into the air. Each time they fell, they burst into clouds of colored smoke, then flew out the other side.

A musician beside him kept beating a hand drum, the rhythm growing faster and faster. The things the man tossed gradually changed from balls to apples, then wine bottles, and finally even short knives.

"That's interesting."

Übel's attention instantly landed on the knives as she spoke excitedly.

"The colored balls before were prettier, and knives are more dangerous. If he doesn't catch them, he'll get hurt."

Fern spoke up from the side. Though Fern meant well, judging by the spectators around them, it felt like they would be even more excited if he really failed to catch them. Was this the local culture of the Holy City? What a bloodthirsty audience.

"It's only interesting because it's dangerous. And it's only a performance if he can catch them. Otherwise, wouldn't he just be killing himself in the street?"

As expected, the two were focused on entirely different things.

As the drumming reached its peak, the man suddenly tossed the knives into the air at once. Just as they were about to fall, he threw open his cloak, and with a bang, a great cloud of white smoke instantly enveloped him.

The knives plunged into the smoke, and gasps immediately rang out from the crowd. But the next moment, a flock of white doves flew out of the smoke, while the man in the feathered hat had vanished.

Fern's eyes widened instinctively.

"He disappeared?"

"He's over there."

Übel pointed above the crowd.

At some point, the man had appeared on the balcony of a nearby two-story building. He took off his hat and bowed to the crowd, and enthusiastic applause and cheers erupted around him. Fern joined in, clapping softly.

After the street performance ended, the three followed the crowd and wandered around the festival for a long while.

The afternoon float parade was about to begin as well.

Floats themed around events in Saint Lomiu's life passed along the main thoroughfare one after another. They were lavishly decorated, and actors dressed as saints and travelers stood atop them, scattering flower petals and candy to both sides of the road.

After the floats had passed, they stopped for a while at a stall holding a wooden ring-tossing contest.

Übel landed nine out of ten rings and won the contest. Her luck had always been rather poor, so she had clearly won through skill.

As the winner, she picked a purple mushroom-shaped brooch from among the prizes and forcibly pinned it to Fern's lapel.

"This suits you."

Übel smiled at Fern.

"I'm taking it off."

"But it's a gift to mark our first meeting."

Hearing that, Fern stopped reaching for the brooch. She looked down at the purple mushroom.

The brooch itself was quite finely made, its translucent purple cap glinting faintly in the sunlight. If she didn't consider its connection to the nickname "Little Spray Mushroom," Fern actually liked it quite a bit.

"Since it's a gift to mark our first meeting, I'll accept it for now."

Fern spoke as if she were reluctantly doing her a favor.

"Just for now?"

"If you call me Little Spray Mushroom again, I'll give it back."

"I don't want it."

"What?"

"I mean, there's no reason to take back a gift once it's been given."

Übel changed her wording as though nothing had happened.

Fern continued to stare at her somewhat suspiciously, but in the end she didn't take off the brooch. She merely reached up to adjust it, pinning the purple mushroom neatly in place on her lapel.

Übel watched her adjust the brooch, the smile on her face softening a little. At first, she had simply thought the prize suited Fern and picked it up to tease her, but now it seemed giving it to her had been a rather good decision.

"You have to wear it the next time we meet, too."

Übel said.

"Why?"

Fern asked, a little puzzled.

"Because that way I'll recognize you at a glance."

"You can recognize me without it."

"Not necessarily. There might be lots of little kids with purple hair."

"There are plenty of people with green hair like yours, too."

"Is that so?"

"But I'll still do my best to find you."

Fern spoke with complete seriousness.

Übel froze for a moment, then couldn't help laughing.

"Then it's a promise."

Happy times always passed especially quickly. When it was time to part that evening, Übel walked a few steps before suddenly stopping and turning back to wave at the two of them.

"See you next time, Mr. Lorenzo."

Her gaze fell on the mushroom brooch on Fern's lapel.

"And you too, Little Spray Mushroom."

"What! Did! You! Say!"

Looking at how furious Fern was, one could only say that Übel had indeed grasped the essence of bickering with children: leave them with one last remark sure to make them angry, then turn and run immediately, without giving them any chance to strike back.

"Let's play together again next time!"

Übel waved with a smile, then quickly slipped into the crowd and disappeared without a trace.

"Übel!"

Fern could only stand where she was and shout in the direction Übel had gone.

Unfortunately, Übel was clearly already out of earshot. Even if she had heard, she would probably only have laughed even more happily.

"What an awful personality."

Fern spoke indignantly.

"Then how are you going to strike back the next time you see her?"

Lorenzo asked.

"I'll call her Scissor Girl."

Fern thought for a moment.

"Didn't she say you should call her Scissor Sis?"

"It's because she doesn't like it that I'm going to call her Scissor Girl."

It seemed Fern was gradually learning how to bicker with people her own age, too. In a sense, that counted as growth. Though if Heiter found out that taking Fern to a festival had resulted in her learning to give people nicknames, he probably wouldn't think it was anything to be happy about.

But wasn't it fine as long as he didn't find out?