Chapter Text
Castle Town was everything Swatch could ever dream of. They got ahold of the Café as soon as they got there, and now all kinds of colorful and varied patrons barged in to try their specialties. The swatchlings were having a great time, too. Free from the pressure of serving Her Lady Grace, they could even have the time to seat and enjoy a cup of Earl Grey off working hours.
Swatch was grateful to the Lighters even though they had destroyed their dark fountain. It was hard to be mad at such a group of gentle individuals. And it turned harder when Master Ralsei informed them, they were free to decide what to do with their lives in this new Dark World. Swatch and their swatchlings didn't need to call anyone boss, not even the Fun Gang.
Mistress Susie rebutted she actually liked the ring of it. Then, to end the dilemma, Master Kriss assured Swatch they didn't need to quit the monikers if they didn't feel like it.
That was the state of things when the darkness parted to their Light World after ensuring everyone had found a place to stay after Cyber World was closed. Swatch manning the Café after ejecting a rather odd darkner with the shape of a spin top, now with the duty of enlisting all the recruits from other dark fountains if one of them ever appeared. The swatchlings amused themselves by cleaning or even having tea with other inhabitants of their former world.
However, they didn't even have the time to miss the lighters when Master Kris and Mistress Susie returned to Castle Town barely one hour later, beelining to Swatch's new Café.
The desire to serve, to follow a task, was a habit hard to strip from Swatch's programming. That's why they found it impossible to turn down a request, even though Master Kris had stressed it wasn't an order.
The young human presented Swatch with a pair of round glasses with a black frame. The lenses had mismatched carnation pink and yellow colors. Even though they were perplexed at why the lightner was giving them glasses when they were already wearing their usual diamond-shaped shades, they grabbed the glasses without a second thought.
"Could you take care of him while we are out?"
Aside from the unusual request, Swatch overpassed the weird pronoun they had chosen to address an inanimate object and replied with a hearty "With pleasure," not even inquiring about the conditions.
"You have to wear them, though." Mistress Susie interloped, shoving her elbow to Prince Ralsei and winking playfully, some unspoken agreement between the Prince and the Lightner. "At all times."
"I'd be glad to assist you, Masters." They quickly removed their shades to wear the new acquisition.
Despite being similar in color and nearsighted prescription, these glasses made the world look bizarrely garish. Then the lenses fogged up.
Master Kris noticed it and snatched the glasses from Swatch to wear them themselves. Instead, they backtracked by the jukebox, mumbling under their breath.
"Mister Swatch, this armor is very important to Kris. We'd appreciate you taking well care of it, with the most care."
"Undoubtedly my Prince. I won't remove them even for sleeping if that's what you need." They bowed.
Kris returned with the glasses, clean of fog and ready to wear again. Mistress Susie wished them good luck while Master Ralsei bolstered that he'd be in Castle Town if questions or concerns arose. Somehow, it seemed the Masters were speaking to the glasses, not to Swatch.
The two lighters left the town on the spot as if they had only returned to bestow that responsibility on Swatch.
"You look great, Boss." One of the Swatchlings gave them a huge thumbs up, and from the tint of the glasses, Swatch had the funny thought that people should pay them to glance at this new look.
However, walking during work was troublesome, to say the least. The lenses distorted the world horribly, making even the littered tables left by the customers look luxurious with the shimmer of jewels. It was starting to give them a headache.
At first, they thought it was a matter of adjusting to the prescription, but it seemed it was mostly due to how it portrayed colors. Numbers weren't blurry, but depending on the angle, their values morphed in an odd way.
Because of those bothersome glasses, Swatch got the first customer complaint in the story of their career.
"Excuse me, I think there is a problem with my bill." Swatch looked down at the light sky-blue Addison in front of the counter. He stayed thunderstruck for a second from what they had just heard. Then they revised the receipt on the addison's hand and, to their shock, the prices were all wrong.
They knew the menu by heart; this mistake was unacceptable. And they profusely apologized while changing the bill. They were offering a free macaron as a sign of peace when the Addison condoned the offense with a stunned.
"Those glasses… where did you get them?"
Swatch paused to stare at the blue darkner licking his dry lips. Then he reached out, and Swatch backed away, offended. The Addison realized how upfront he had been and pulled back his hand.
"I'm sorry…." His apology sounded genuine for a second before his salesman's gears started turning. "How much?"
"Pardon?"
"H-how MUCH for the glasses?" He stammered.
"I'm afraid they are not for sale."
"Then, how much for cheking them?"
"What?"
"J-just checking them!!" He bent forward over the counter, starting to sound desperate. "I'll give you a 50% off for shoes in my store."
"No—"
"A free pair of shoes!! Real size, no freebie size. Best quality in town!"
"I'm afraid you'd better leav—"
"FREE SHOES FOR YOU AND YOUR EMPLOYEES!!" He shouted.
The Swatchlings peeked up from the kitchen and the table area, already switching colors to an eager red. Swatch knew they would jump at the opportunity of having new shoes. They hadn't gotten anything new ever since Queen had granted them those uniforms. It was something Swatch owed them.
They begrudgingly passed a wing over their face, sliding their feathers over the glasses. They noticed they had gotten warmer, probably as hot as a cup of mint cocoa. The more reason to remove them, but they weren't desisting on their duty towards the lightners. And they weren't going to risk that daring blue fellow running away with the glasses in a worst-case scenario.
With a conceding nod, they asked the addison to wait for closing time to hand them the glasses. The Addison stretched his hand, prompting them to close the deal in the right way.
After a firm handshake, the Addison was pleased and returned to his former table to call someone on his phone, announcing to the other side of the line he was taking the day off. His interlocutor seemed surprised, at which the Addison explained with a cheerfulness that he might have found a hint.
Swatch was half hoping he would tire up and leave. But, instead, he kept ordering tea and biscuits until closing, as he had promised. His bill raised considerably, but never to the amount the prices those tinted glassed were penchant to display.
When the last patron left and the swatchlings were busy cleaning the kitchen, Swatch went to the addison's table. He asked them to take a seat. The frame of the glasses was practically burning by then, so it was a relief to hand them and a little more to see the addison perceived the heat as well.
"Ouch ouch," he juggled the glasses on his hands, until he somehow got a grip of the temples to start the inspection. "Hmmm. Are you sure you cannot tell me how did you get these?"
"I don't see why that is of importance." Swatch dusted the lappels of their suit, realizing there was no point in beating around the bush. "The Lightners gave them to me. They endowed me with the task of caring for them."
"I see." The Addison replied with a touch of disappointment, then he turned the glasses around, pointing an engraved text near the hinges. It read ADDISONS and a serial number. "The dealmaker, it is custom made. They belonged to my brother Spam."
Swatch hadn't heard that name, but they had known someone with a comparable moniker. The similarities were too uncanny to disregard. The light sky blue addison kept talking, lost in a reverie.
"Even though he was nearsighted, he never liked to wear glasses. He thought he looked boring. That's why we crafted these colorful ones. But when he realized they also raised the possibility of gaining dark dollars, he said he didn't need magic-infused armor to make it big.
"I miss him. I looked for him for the longest time, and then," he heaved, swallowing a heavy lump with the dregs of a cold cup of tea, "they told me he had died. So recently, everyone gathered in Cyber City's trash area to pay respects.
"They… my family, they hadn't told me they knew where he had set shop." The snapping out of his memories, the addison cast about. "Uh, did you say something?"
"Not at all." Swatch retrieved the eyewear; it was moist again, and they had to wipe them before wearing them back. The Addison was still aloof, looking around anxiously as if he had seen a ghost. "By Spam, do you mean Master Spamton?"
"Yes, he changed his name to sound more attractive." The addison ran his fingers through his blue mane, feeling embarrassed for his sibling.
"I knew him from when he was living in the Mansion." And from other circumstances that Swatch wasn't willing to discuss. "Now that you mention it, he was wearing these glasses the last time I saw him." Again, obfuscates the fact that they were expelling him from the castle on that occasion. "He was a valued customer. One could even say… a friend."
Swatch didn't even know where those words had come from? They understood relationships like workmates, patrons, bosses, and family; however, they had never paired the concept of friendship with anyone.
Master Spamton had been a welcomed company. One that invited them a couple of times to have a drink in The City or who had rushed to look for Task Manager when the Café went infested with mice. His speech was boisterous and self-centered most of the time, but he was the kind of individual who genuinely cared for others. Perhaps the realization of his demise finally weighed on Swatch.
The blue addison found common ground about this. They wiped a tear, grateful to hear his brother at least had a genuine friend.
Guilt crawled the back of Swatch. For a friend, they hadn't been the best of them.
"I'm glad the lightners put the dealmaker in good hands." The addison stood up, handing Swatch a business card with the name Display T Addison in script font over Castle Shoes Owner's headline. "Is the day after tomorrow okay for the fitting appointment? I could tend to all your employees and you in one day, but if that's not possible we can arrange."
Display had taken a business-like stance, pulling a small planner to scribble down the appointment details. Since the Café was closed on Sunday, and Swatch did know the swatchlings slept mostly through their off day, they nodded reluctantly.
"Excellent." Display's smile was contagious. "See you on Sunday then. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."
Swatch removed the dealmaker and left it on the nightstand that night, a force of habit.
Somehow in dreams, they thought of hearing gentle sobs. They jackknifed on the bed as soon as they realized they had broken the promise of keeping the glasses on at all times.
When they picked them up, drops of water had condensed on the shades' frame, so copious they had created a small puddle underneath.
Swatch put the glasses on again. Then, berating themselves for the slip, they resumed sleeping, now in a seated position to avoid damaging the article.