Chapter Text
For the first time, he’d remember, it was challenging to make a choice.
Cassius's eyes swept over the menu, platinum blond lashes flicking up and down as his sights made connections with the names of the dishes and the colorfully penciled artwork depicting the delicious offerings for the day. His pale fingers gripped the edges of the menu tightly, and he mumbled to himself.
“There is always something new daily. It is not logically efficient to be expanding different quantities of energy to cook.”
He flipped a page, impassively scanning down a hand-written list that was clipped to a worn, discolored page. A tiny card was pinned to the top of the hand-written list, large letters scribbled across in big fonts.
“Thursday’s Specials.”
Cassius let go of the menu he was surveying before he was intriguingly engaged by the card. He removed it from the list and, with both hands holding it in front of him and read it out loud.
“Demi-glace sauce omurice with mixed mushrooms, creamed corn, and a beef patty.”
The moon dweller rolled the sounds on his tongue. He felt pleased with his pronunciation, and his mouth opened widely, ready to read the next item on Thursday’s Specials when the waitress sidled up to his table. It was the same waitress who served him and Eustace the first day he visited this cafe. And the same waitress who took his order every day till today.
“Oh!” She made a small ‘O’ with her mouth and smiled prettily, her coffee-colored hair bobbing up and down as she recognized Cassius. The Erune girl held up her notepad and flicked her nails across the pen she was holding, “You’re here again!”
Cassius nodded and lifted the ‘Thursday’s Specials’ card to his eye-level and tapped at the first item written on the card. The girl tilted her head and nodded, scribbling down the name of the dish the pale-skinned man had indicated.
She felt slightly brave, and just a tad generous. The waitress leaned down to speak in hushed tones next to Cassius's ear.
“Sir, would you like to try the Chef’s Special instead?”
“The Chef’s Special? What is that? I do not recall seeing it anywhere on your menu.” He paused, his ice-blue eyes steadily focused on the Erune’s reddening face, and he spoke loudly. A customer or two turned their heads to look at the moon dweller, curious at what he had brought up. The waitress coughed and bent even lower, whispering now.
“Our Chef only prepares one of these every day.” She continued as she kept her voice lowered. The waitress edged the side of her cheek with her palm to avoid the suspicious glances of the other customers. The male draph and the little harvin girl seated to his right, strained to listen in to the covert conversation, their hands tightly gripping their cutlery.
“It is served with both a red-wine demi-glace and a chunky tomato sauce, with fluffy butter rice, two extra-large beef patties, freshly-made pork and bacon fat sausages, and creamy eggs.”
She paused to catch her breath and continued in an even lower voice.
“Everyone wants to try the Chef’s Special, but we only sell it to the most loyal of our customers.”
“Loyal?” Cassius turned his body fully in his chair to look at the waitress with a lift of his eyebrows, mystified. “I do not understand. Why do you speak of me as loyal when I am providing an exchange of currency in return for the nourishment your establishment is providing me.”
The waitress’s mouth gaped, and her jaw slacked at the pale man’s question. Before she could interject, Cassius continued in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, as if he was explaining to a child why the sky was blue.
“Besides, I have eaten my breakfast in another establishment before arriving at this establishment. A loyal entity would have eaten all his three meals in the same establishment without fail and faithfully.”
“Furthermore, why would the Chef only prepare one such product when it is apparently, indicated by you that this product is wanted by many people?”
“Would it not make more sense to produce more of this product if the establishment is to profit?”
The waitress patiently, very patiently indeed, pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed as the moon dweller unleashed a barrage of questions. The Erune girl vaguely remembered another Erune, with a tanned complexion two weeks ago, sitting with this extremely inquisitive customer and explaining every single item on the menu. He had appeared just as patiently every other day.
She did not see him today however.
This was perhaps the biggest reason why that particular Erune male no longer accompanied this exotic-looking pale blonde foreigner.
He must have given up!
The Erune girl decided not to explain to Cassius that this was the fourteenth time he’d appeared for dinner at the cafe and ordering the same dish, albeit in all its fourteenth variations.
“Sir,” She straightened her back and looked at the moon dweller sharply, her full lips set in an angry line. “Do you want or not want the Chef’s Special?”
Cassius stared at the annoyed waitress, unblinking. Thoughts ballooned in his head.
(Her heart is beating very fast. I do not understand why she is angry about receiving more information.)
(Is it not essential to be provided as much information as one can obtain? Then one will be able to make the most effective choice.)
(She is holding up that pen of hers very tightly. It looks like she may crack that pen. I should provide her with a satisfactory answer that will reduce her heart-rate.)
“Yes, I would like the Chef’s Special.”
The moon dweller nodded. His hands moved back to the table and pinned the card back to its original position. Next, he folded the menu carefully, taking the utmost care to shift the hand-written list back to the original angle he found it in. Satisfied, he turned to the waitress and offered the tidied stack to her.
“Thank you.” He remembered to say, and his lips upturned in a very awkward grin, just like how Beatrix taught him. His lopsided smile seemed soothed the waitress’ irate nerves, and she took the menu from him with a wan smile of her own before she left for the kitchen.
Clasping his fingers together and placing them on the table, Cassius started to observe the other patrons in the cafe. His eyes drifted over the draph and harvin couple who sat near him and the large party of Erune who drank giant mugs of a foamy orange liquid two tables away. An elderly couple seated next to the window and a couple more humans huddled along the counter, their fingers busy pinching at a large bowl of round brown pellets. It was a busy night, and it pleased Cassius.
(Perhaps I should process the information gained so far about the Chef’s Special.)
The moon dweller mulled over his thoughts as he observed the cafe. His stomach rumbled, and he pressed a hand to his belly.
(This body is synchronizing well to the fossildwellers’ nourishment schedule.)
Cassius tilted his head, recognizing the gripping pulls of hunger on his muscles. The smells in the cafe became distinctive - rich savoriness and buttery scents. Oh! How his stomach growled and squeaked, and his mouth salivated with want.
(What is this eagerness I am experiencing for this dish?)
(However, this dish will, without doubt, provide a surplus of my nutrition requirement for the night.)
(Yet, I am anxious, hoping to entirely consume the samples provided.)
The moon dweller’s hands moved to pick up his fork and spoon, gripping the handles in anticipation as the waitress reappeared from the kitchen, bearing a large white plate in her hands. Cassius lifted his head, his eyes gleamingly bright in expectation. His excitement was enviously shared by the patrons in the cafe and all, but just one, paused in their meals to gawk at the entry of that sizable white plate.
The Chef’s Special.
And the one who did not gape was a tall, tanned Erune who had appeared beside the table, his face inscrutable.
Eustace made a soft ‘hmm’ in his throat.
The waitress squeezed herself in between the male Erune and Cassius, clicking her tongue cheerily against her teeth. The large white plate of food was slid onto the empty space in front of Cassius.
“Be careful, Sir, the plate is hot!” The waitress announced, clapping her hands gaily at Cassius's very pleased expression. Pivoting on her heel, she turned towards Eustace, who had seated himself without much ceremony, in the chair facing Cassius.
There was a small ‘Oh’ that drifted unconsciously from her and she slapped her hand over her gaping mouth. Clumsily, the girl dragged the notepad out of her apron’s pocket. She whipped the pen from her ear, nearly dropping the writing instrument.
“And Sir, what would you like to have?”
“Omurice.”
“Oh.” The waitress gawked again, her pen hovered above her notepad - she should have guessed it. Eustace lifted his gaze upwards, his eyebrow arched in question. She coughed, fidgeted under his stare, and scribbled the order down.
Cassius opened his mouth the moment the waitress left.
“Eustace.”
The Erune looked straight at Cassius, his features flat and wooden. He pulled his arms up and crossed them against his chest.
“Tell one of us next time if you want to eat dinner.”
Eustace’s eyes narrowed. His arms tightened about his chest. Cassius laid the cutlery down slowly on the table. He eyed the Erune, blinking as he flattened his palms against the edge of the table.
(Eustace is angry.)
(He is glaring at me. It is the first time I believe I see a different emotion in his eyes.)
Cassius's lips curved into a small smile.
(However, it is not a time to celebrate. I must defend my honor and integrity.)
“I have left a message with Beatrix that I’m going to eat my dinner at this cafe.”
Eustace frowned at the statement, and he stayed quiet. His eyes barely flickered over the moon dweller’s face, and his brow lifted, noticing that slip of a smile on Cassius’s lips. The latter bowed his head and looked down at his hands.
(Zeta said I must learn how to speak with others without asking so many questions.)
Cassius rubbed his fingers over the handles of his cutlery set and picked them up. The metal was cool to touch, somewhat heavy in his grip.
“Eustace.”
The Erune rumbled a low acknowledgment in his throat but did not speak.
“Why do you eat the same thing again?”
“It is easier.” The answer came forthcomingly.
(It is the fourteenth day we are having this conversation. It is the fourteenth time I’ve asked the same question, and he, the same answer.)
He blinked, his eyelashes flicking over his lower lids.
(And the fourteenth time he is eating the same choice.)
(I shall try another approach. For science)
Cassius made his voice very pleasant and proposed a counterargument.
“Having the same dish all the time defeats the purpose of a menu with variety.”
“I do not enjoy variety.” Eustace replied at once, in perfect monotone.
Cassius drooped his head to one side at an awkward angle, like how he often had seen Beatrix do when she could not understand what Zeta was telling her. His mouth opened again to ask another question, and Eustace unlinked his hands from their crossed position, his finger pointing straight at Cassius's dinner.
“You should finish your food before it turns cold.” Eustace reminded, and his thin lips flattened against each other, pulling into a grim line.
(That approach did not work. Eustace is outraged now. I will try later when he is calm.)
Obediently, Cassius bowed his head once more and started on his food. In precise movements, he separated the different items into manageable portions of meat, sauce, rice, and eggs. That would be the most effective method to enjoy, Cassius surmised in his head. He ate slowly. Absorbed in both the atmosphere of the cafe and the mingling textures in his mouth, Cassius enjoyed himself.
The table next to the two men was cleaned and new customers appeared - a youthful couple. The girl’s face sullen and drawn, the young man’s hands held in a tight clench. He clutched a chair and pulled it out for her. She sat with reluctance, her shoulders shaking, her hands pressed tight around the bouquet in her arms. He sank into the other chair placed on the girl’s left.
There was a loud thumping sound from the direction of the kitchen, and the chef himself, a brawny Draph in a sauce-stained striped apron, ran out. The man clasped his hands together and beamed, his broad forehead beady with perspiration.
“Young Master…”
“Just get us the couple’s special.” The youth hissed in a sharp whisper, not taking a look at the chef or the waitress hovering anxiously behind the large man.
“And don’t you dare tell my mother.”
The Draph gulped and waved a few directions to the waitress. The two slipped away, the waitress hurriedly tearing up the piece of paper she’d accidentally written the order on.
The girl placed the large bouquet of red flowers on the table and scowled at it.
Eustace’s order was served. He did not seem affected by the scene unfolding next to them. Soundlessly, he began to eat, in quick, efficient motions, keeping a watchful gaze on Cassius.
The moon dweller’s thoughts were no longer about Eustace, and he was observing the couple next to his table, enthralled.
(The girl is glaring at the flowers. I do not understand. Perhaps she has a sentient link with the plant.)
(This is new information. The flowers in this town must be a unique species.)
The waitress reappeared to serve the couple’s order, taking great care to set the heart-shaped pink plate down in the middle of the table. The young man flinched restlessly in his chair, and he made no move to start. The girl frowned, and her shoulders tightened again.
He picked up his spoon and very gingerly, with a crooked smile on his face, scooped up a mouthful of rice and sauce and turned to the girl.
(That is an extraordinary face this young man is making. I must observe this carefully.)
(It appears to be a form of peace-offering among the fossildwellers. An offering of food.)
“Marie…”
Cassius rested his fork on his plate, his attention taken by the antics of the couple next to him. They were too heatedly eyeing each other to notice his stares. The girl shifted her head and scowled at the young man. Her gaze fell downwards to the spoonful of food offered and back up at the apologetic and upset face of the boy. He whispered something so low and soft that the moon dweller could not discern. Yet, it relaxed the girl’s face and smoothed out the frown wrinkled her forehead.
She ate the food from his spoon readily and placed her small hands on his thigh, smiling a little.
(An offering of food to appease anger. I find this fascinating. I should attempt this on...)
Eustace rumbled faintly in his throat, interrupting Cassius's line of thought.
“Finish your meal, Cassius. We should get back to...”
Cassius stood up with his knees bent, his chair clattering to the ground backward at his sudden movement. A spoonful of rice, heaped with sauce, was offered to Eustace, positioned in precision at the Erune’s parted lips.
Eustace drove his mouth shut, his lips sealed sternly in refusal.
The couple next to them turned their heads in unison, their eyes agog. The old lady seated at the table behind them dropped her fork. The waitress’s eyes were gigantically round as she fumbled with her notepad at the incredulous sight.
(It is not working? I fail to comprehend.)
“I fail to comprehend.” Cassius murmured, genuinely confused as he held the spoon in mid-air, and Eustace did not react in the same way as the girl did. His fingers tightened, gripping the spoon as he slowly swiveled his gaze about the cafe, puzzled by the stupefied looks around him.
There was a light tug on the spoon he held, a fleeting movement. He swiftly swung his gaze back.
The spoon was emptied. Cleaned. Devoid of sauce and rice.
The waitress found her composure and hurried over, putting the fallen chair upright. She tried to have Cassius sit down again but the latter was still staring at his spoon in amazement. Her eyes darted to Eustace, attempting to stifle a rising giggle.
The Erune shot the waitress a warning look. Her face reddened at once, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, nodding furiously at him. A conspiratorial grin flitted over his mouth, and that grin vanished immediately. With his thumb, he pushed his empty plate away from him and folded his arms on his chest.
“Cassius, finish your food, and we will return to the Grandcypher.”
Cassius was turning the clean spoon in his hand, extremely puzzled. He sat down at the waitress’s coaxing and picked up his fork. Completely confounded, Cassius started on what was left of his food. His mind was overwhelmed with possibilities, and he kept staring at his spoon as he ate.
Finally, he finished, the cutlery placed neatly at an angle across his cleaned plate. He hesitated over the spoon for a moment, though, as if he wanted to take the object along. But he did not, and he stood to leave, his face pensive. Eustace rose as well, leaving a few rupies behind on the table for their meals.
As he followed Cassius, the Erune’s lips twitched, the tip of his tongue slipping out to lick up a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth.
Eustace chuckled softly in his throat and ducked his head as he walked out of the door.