Book 2 Chapter 48 - Fishy Patterns of Behavior

Running a successful seafood restaurant is incredibly easy.
And I’ll tell you exactly what I tell every friend who comes to me for advice on starting their own.

Stop wasting money.

These people don’t know what fish tastes like, and they don’t care.
Just get them in their seats and they’ll eat what they are served.

Talents cost money. Seasoning costs money. Refrigeration costs money.
And for what? To attract the tiny percentage of customers who care about such things?
There is little benefit to them, and I’d even say they hold new business owners back.

If my father didn’t pay for these things for my restaurant, I wouldn’t bother with any of them.
And neither should my competition.

Listen to my advice. I’m more successful than my peers for a reason.
—Alan Keeton

“I’m so happy you reached out, sweetheart,” Samuel said. He reached across the table as he spoke, trying to cover Kiera's hands with his own. But his daughter withdrew as he approached. He’d only made it to the restaurant a minute before, and Kiera had failed to make eye contact once. It was unsettling, and clearly intentional.

“This is a lovely place, and the food looks good. I’m surprised you're familiar with it, in fact. Do you come to the green district often?” he asked.

Kiera looked down and to her left. Her ears were flattened to her head, and her tail was twitching irritably. She was obviously uncomfortable. And it broke Samuel’s heart. 

He couldn't tell if it was a physical or mental symptom of her illness, but it was a symptom either way. One which had turned her against him... and against her treatment.

He could admit he was angry at her. Not nearly as angry as he was worried. But he was angry. She has hurt him badly. Not just when she’d poisoned him, although he was still recovering from the long-term effects of that. He was weak, and tired, and his senses had been dulled ever since that disastrous night. And he was upset about that. 

It hadn't hurt him nearly as much as the act of leaving. It was that act he’d punished. He’d been lashing out at the abandonment when he’d had her arrested. Yet, she’d still asked him to meet her. It was possibly done out of fear. She would still end up in prison if he didn't drop the charges. Or as a convict lancer, which may have been worse.

But it was a step forward. A chance for him to open her eyes. And one where the Asher girl wasn't there to enable Kiera's delusions. He had been so happy when she'd sent him the message. Hopeful, for the first time since he’d woken up with his attributes halved. Since he’d woken up and he was living alone. 

He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy. Kiera had chosen a seafood restaurant. She'd never trusted seafood before, and she wouldn't have picked it if she were thinking clearly.

So he shouldn't have been surprised when he showed up, and she wouldn't speak with him. She wouldn't even look at him. But he was an optimist by nature, and surprised he was. He was also angry.

“Kiera. Kiera, sweetie, you have to talk to me. Didn't you want to talk to me?” he pushed. “Nothing will change if you won't work with me. I want to do things differently. I want to do them kindly. But you have to meet me halfway!”

His daughter tensed, then clenched her fists and crossed her arms. She still didn't look at him, but a defiance descended on her posture like a man at war. “You tried to poison me, Dad,” Kiera replied.

Samuel sighed. “I tried to treat you. And I trusted the wrong person to help me do that. I will own that. I made a mistake. I am prone to mistakes when it comes to helping you. And when it came to helping your mother. I get worried, and I can't see things clearly. And the sicker you grow, the less clearly I see. But it is the same mistake you are making. Trusting someone who doesn’t care about you,” he explained.

Kiera scoffed, still not meeting her father’s eyes. “You put me in jail, and Violet got me out. And you want me to believe that you’re the one helping, and she’s the dangerous one, is that right?” Kiera asked with disdain.

“No. No, Kiera. I expect very little from you. Not sense. Not a closer examination of the situation. I don’t expect nuance, and I don’t expect your appreciation. I don’t even expect love. You made it clear I wouldn’t have that when you left me paralyzed in my own home. I have no expectations of you whatsoever. But I do care about you. Enough that I will save your life. Even if you hate me for it,” Samuel replied with a resigned sigh. 

“You killed Mom,” Kiera whispered.

Samuel regarded his daughter with a look of pure exasperation. “I did everything I could to save her. Everything. We both did. And you’re right. I failed. We lost her. And maybe you have the right to hate me for that. It even makes sense that you don’t trust me to save you. Not when I gave everything to your mother, and it wasn’t enough. It’s understandable for a child to be confused. But it won’t make your body any healthier. You have to gamble on me again, or you will die without treatment,” he lectured.

“It has been, though,” Kiera countered. She finally turned her head and made eye contact as she did. She seemed to calm, and her ears lifted from their frightened pose against her hair.  “Making my body healthier, I mean. Ever since I got away from you. I started feeling better the day I left. And now? Now I don’t feel sick at all. I am the healthiest and happiest I have been in years. Just as soon as I escaped your treatment. Weird how that happens, isn’t it?”

“Not particularly,” Samuel replied with a huff. “That’s how sickness works, sometimes. Again, there is more nuance to the world than however you feel in the moment. My potions... they stimulate your immune system. Your body doesn’t recognize your illness. It doesn’t know to fight back. Not without your medicine. What you were feeling? The sickness you think you’ve moved past? That was your body fighting back. And now? Now that you’ve destroyed our family? For a tall boy and a lying girl? Of course you feel better. For now. Of course you feel healthy. For now. Your body is no longer trying to save you. What you’re feeling isn’t the quiet of victory. It’s the calm of surrender. But it’s a fleeting confidence. One which will give way to far worse symptoms, and eventually death. Unless you let me help you.”

Kiera seemed to tense, and uncertainty filled her eyes like ink in water. Samuel started to hope he’d gotten through to her. But a moment later, and the hint of hope had vanished. 

“You’re a liar, Dad. You’ve always been a liar,” Kiera said. 

“No. No, you are simply a child. And you are scared. And you are tired of feeling ill. So you convinced yourself you didn’t have to. If you could find the right villain, you could banish your sickness without treating it. And I get it, I do. When I was young, I may have done the same. But it's time to stop. It’s time to face reality. It’s time to come home. Please. I miss you, sweetheart. And I hate feeling powerless to help you,” Samuel begged. 

Kiera huffed and rolled her eyes. “You believe it now, don’t you? It was a lie at first, but you’ve somehow convinced even yourself. Was that after you killed Mom, or not until you started poisoning me, too?” she asked.

“Kiera. Stop. Just stop. This isn’t a game anymore. You either accept my help, or you die. It’s as simple as that,” Samuel replied. His voice was losing its condescending but fatherly tone, and irritation was announcing itself on his face.

“You aren’t the only healer anymore, Dad. Not here in Prism City. You’re not even the best. Shit, you’re not even the best I’ve personally been treated by. But you are the only one who believes I am sick. Isn’t that strange?” Kiera interrogated.

Samuel leaned back in his chair. He looked his daughter up and down. She wasn’t going to listen to him. She was too delusional to believe him. Too stubborn to be convinced. And she wasn’t afraid enough to comply anyway. She was apparently willing to risk prison just to confirm her twisted narrative. Or, rather, Violet Asher’s twisted narrative. He didn’t know what the foul girl wanted from Kiera, but one thing was clear. She was a cancer in his daughter’s life.

“Um, hello. I’m Lori. I’ll be your waitress today. Did you two, uh... did you need another moment?” a nervous woman asked. Samuel nearly jumped out of his skin. He would have noticed this woman a mile away, once. Before his daughter had poisoned him. When he’d still had full command over his attributes. He had to police his reaction to hide his surprise, but he wasn’t certain he’d managed it. In fact, as he glanced back from the waitress and toward his daughter, he was certain he’d failed. Kiera suddenly seemed far more confident. Like something had been confirmed for her.

“We’ll both take a number seven,” Kiera replied, smiling brightly at the waitress. “It’s our favorite.”

Samuel glanced down at his menu and frowned. She’d ordered two shrimp cocktails. He knew what the meal was, but only from archived media. No one with a decent talent for creating this type of food lived anywhere near Flag. He’d never seen his daughter eat anything like a shrimp, and he’d certainly never had one himself. But he supposed the order would allow the poor waitress to leave the awkward moment more quickly, so he didn’t complain. He gave the woman a slight nod in confirmation, then looked back toward Kiera.

“Is that what you asked me to come here for? To yell at me? To sling baseless accusations like a monkey playing with its own shit? Or is it one of your symptoms manifesting, as I warned? Did you invite me with one intent in mind, but let it slip from a diseased psyche before you made it here?” Samuel asked.

Kiera stared at him in silence for a long moment, refusing to answer. Then, she smirked, and her ears seemed to vanish. Samuel blinked in surprise, but regained his composure quickly. He knew how her talent worked. She used to hide her crystal mutations with it constantly. In fact, he’d assumed she already was. But he’d seen through all of her tricks without effort before. Smoke and mirrors from a red couldn’t fool a green. Not a green in good health, anyway. Her ability to hide her ears from him was a grim reminder of what he’d lost. What she’d taken from him. He still had the talents of a Category Green, but he had the perception of an orange. Ever since he’d been poisoned.

He didn’t know how Kiera had put that together. He’d hidden it well, he thought. But he could see it all over her face. He’d just confirmed it for her. And she’d run the test to see if it was true. Which meant she already knew. Suddenly, this dinner felt less than hopeless. Something was going on, and he didn’t like it.

“Why did you call me here?” he asked again. 

“To try the shrimp,” Kiera answered. Her voice was far more confident now. As commanding as it had ever been. “Call it father-daughter quality time, before you have me hauled off to fucking prison.”

Samuel continued to frown. He wasn’t going to heal his daughter, he realized. Or at least, he wasn’t going to start then. He was quiet for a long time. He was still sitting in silence when the food was delivered to the table. He casually presented his right hand to the tablet she offered him, and his empathy ring completed the payment. He didn’t even bother checking how much it cost. His new job paid well, after all. He just watched Kiera as the fox picked through shrimp she was clearly wary of.

“Kiera. What is going on here?” he pushed.

“You don't own me. And I am not a vehicle to earn you praise, Samuel,” Kiera answered. “Try to enjoy your meal. It's the last time you're ever going to see me.”

Merryl Hatheway was in a terrible mood. 

She thought she’d finally pay off her mother’s gambling debts. At least, until the next bet. She hadn’t had any personal time in weeks as she watched Koral Row. Koral, who, by all appearances, was a perfectly pleasant and sweet girl. Merryl had no idea why she’d been forced to spend every waking moment stalking the other student. Koral was largely unremarkable. Still a red, even after a year. Rarely left campus. Lots of friends, but none that she seemed to be particularly close to. But not unordinary at all.

Koral didn’t mind that, except she felt guilty for violating a stranger’s privacy for no reason. But the biggest inconvenience was the complete lack of personal time. Bouvier had her on the rose-haired girl like he expected Koral to snap and start hunting the other students for sport. No matter how innocent the reports remained, it was all Merryl had done since she’d made it to school.

And now? Now, she was suddenly pulled off that fruitless job. Not because her debt was paid and her mother would be free, of course. 

Rather, she’d been reassigned. To stalk not just an innocent girl, but the school hero. Everyone had been talking about Violet Asher for days. The up-and-coming lancer who was sure to reach Category Violet. Violet the violet would be a funny title, after all. 

And Merryl was supposed to follow her. 

Violet was a hero. Plain and simple. She'd single-handedly killed a queen above her degree and saved seven other students in the act. All while the academy staff let themselves get distracted. Maybe that was why Bouvier wanted her followed. He was upset she made him look bad. It fucking sounded like him.

Merryl didn't like spying like this. She hated it, really. Especially at the behest of a man like Bouvier. One who would blackmail a teenager into spy work using family trauma. But she needed to pay those debts. And if she had to violate Violet’s privacy to do so, well. She didn't have much choice. It was that or deal with Jack the Bruiser. 

That alone made the operator uncomfortable. But, despite the promise of a break, Violet had left campus the same day she’d woken up. Less than two hours after Merryl had been given the job. It was strange for an injured girl to immediately go into the city. Most would take advantage of a few days off to recover and sleep. Especially with the Chromatic schedule. Which meant Violet did have something private to attend to.

Merryl felt more awful about following the girl when she realized that. And not only because it was so difficult to do. The challenge didn't help either, though. Violet had left on the green train, which didn’t have many riders at this time of night. Not traveling from Chromatic, at least. That meant one slip-up, and she’d be spotted.

Exactly as the brunette student had been.

She’d heard rumors about that idiot, too. The boy who hated Violet. He was unremarkable in every other way, but... he’d made such a show of tormenting Violet over the past few weeks. Merryl had known who Violet was well before the special class was allowed on a raid. And that was because of Chase Cook. A cowardly weasel of a man. 

And he was following Violet—and Kiera—the same way Merryl was. Without the necessary talents, and far more obviously. But he was doing it. Violet had clearly spotted him, too. Although he didn't seem to realize he’d been made. She even audibly made plans to meet at the bell tower at the end of the night. Even more strangely, she seemed to check that Chase had heard. When they all got off the train, Kiera went one way, and Violet another. Chase followed Violet, which felt like an ill omen.

Something strange was going on, and Merryl didn’t like it.

That’s going to be a problem, Merryl thought.