Chương 81: Pasta of Wisdom + 1

Someone had left him clean clothes on the counter. A black t-shirt with a metal band logo that he had never heard of, and sweatpants. They were a bit too big on him, but it would be nice to wear something clean and without unintended holes. It was not his vibe, but he almost never wore anything with his vibe, to be fair, not particularly caring about clothes in the first place. Not that he even had a vibe, he usually just wore whatever his mom bought him.

His old wardrobe could only be called a disaster, with occasional speedster merchandise sprinkled on top, since those were the only types of clothes he had bought himself, usually during a convention. Which was a rare thing to happen, since going to a convention meant going somewhere, and he was more of a stay-in-his-basement kind of person. In a way, he was used to someone else deciding his clothing for him. It was nostalgic, and reminded him of the times before the apocalypse.

It felt nice, in a way it didn't before. A small semblance of normalcy that he didn't realize he had lost. A faint reminder that he was once loved. He shut his eyes tight and shook his head, some part of him understanding that he was absolutely, completely and utterly not ready to go down that particular rabbit hole. Dodging dangerous thoughts was an art, and he was mastering it quickly. More like remembering how it was done, but whatever.

There was a faint understanding in him that he would have to do it at some point, since fixing any problem required acknowledging it first, and the fact that he didn't know his mom's fate was a fucking problem. Just… He just needed a little bit more time. Just a little. Please. He managed to get away with just staring at the pile of clothes for half a minute, and one nervous gulp, before he found something to distract himself with. Good job, him. Leaving him clothes to wear was also fucking creepy. Like, seriously?

Who does that? How did that happen? It had to happen while he was away, or asleep. Probably when he was asleep? Someone saw him and decided 'yep, I'm going to eyeball this guy's measurements and go steal something for him to wear'. He doubted it was Lily, since she probably also slept through most of the morning like him. El'el was also unlikely, on the account of her being a weird alien. He wasn't sure exactly how being an alien conflicted with dressing him up, but it made sense in his head.

By the process of elimination, that left Mary, who he didn't really know, but she totally looked like someone who'd do that. And he wouldn't be surprised if she was secretly into heavy metal. Maybe not so secretly. He wondered how much time it took her to pick the shirt. His gut told him that the choice was deliberate, and not just the first thing she saw that was vaguely his size. It was a good shirt. Fucking nerds. He chuckled. For some reason, it felt nice. He'd have to thank her later. Still fucking weird.

Especially in a way that he bothered to think about it at all. Honestly, he appreciated the gesture, and that was… not something that he usually did. No-Soul-Dennis wouldn't have batted an eye. He would've just said, 'Nice, clean clothes,' and moved on without a second thought, probably thinking about grinding or figuring out how to get his hands on spandex in a post-apocalypse. What he wouldn't have done, for sure, was thinking about thanking the girl.

He would've thought that it was unnecessary, and he had better things to do. Seeing another rabbit hole the size of a crater, he gracefully stopped thinking about it. What was and wasn't necessary was a… sore topic. Like being cut into little pieces and put in a blender sore. He got out of the bathroom, clean, fresh, with Muramasa in hand and on the verge of another spiral. Absolutely normal, in other words, and ready to face the day. The apartment they were in was a small one. It had just one room.

Two, if you counted the kitchen. Half the floor of the living room was occupied with a monstrosity of a board game, seemingly unfinished, and the other with magic circles for water. There was a big pot of macaroni boiling in the 'boiling circle'. El'el was meditating on the couch, while Lily and Mary were chatting quietly in the kitchen. He decided to leave the elf alone with her esoteric elf-practices for now.

While there were a lot of things he wanted to ask her, none of them were that urgent, and now that he knew she was stuck with him for his 'inquisition-repellant' skill, there was no hurry. And, well, kicking the elf out of her meditation just to ask her about multiversal geopolitics or whatever seemed quite rude. What if she randomly exploded, because elf-meditation was magical and explodey? Who could tell it with the elves? He went into the kitchen instead.

The quiet conversation died as he approached, before he could hear any words, with both girls pausing and turning to look at him. It was a familiar territory, in a way, he had that effect on people. A weird pang of discomfort came with that thought. Lily was her robo-self again, looking at him blankly. He still had no idea what the deal was with that. Mary was stiff, but she smiled at him nervously as he came closer.

"H-hey," she said, trying to sound friendly, but failing to look him in the eyes. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Okay, this was not a familiar territory. This was the opposite of a familiar territory. People weren't supposed to try to be friendly with him, especially in defiance of whatever it was about him that made them uncomfortable. Usually, it was the opposite, with everyone doing anything in their power to avoid him.

He didn't usually mind, it was actually preferable, but… Now he wasn't so sure. The whole situation evoked a complicated bundle of emotions that he didn't know what to do with. New impulses that didn't make any sense. Dennis had half a mind to turn around and walk away, just to stop feeling so weird. He was also pretty sure that he'd feel bad if he did that. For some fucking reason. It was like being out of your comfort zone, but there was no comfort zone to return to.

His whole existence was outside of his comfort zone.

"Lily said that you weren't angry about… you know, me forgetting to explain the safety rules. About the hand…" Mary said quietly.

"Still, sorry I did that." That was what she was nervous about? Him sticking a hand into an active magic circle? How on earth was she supposed to know he'd do that? He didn't know he'd do that. This was dumb as hell.

"She's right," he said. Of course Lily was right. He shuffled in place awkwardly. How the hell were people supposed to talk again? It felt much harder than he remembered.

"Um… I didn't even think that it could be a problem, so I'm obviously not angry and you don't have to be sorry, I think?" Gods help him, he didn't know what he was doing. Why was it so hard? It was easier to talk to El'el.

"And… Thanks for the clothes, I guess? You were the one who got them, right?" Dennis was certainly saying words, so at least partially he was succeeding at the talking thing. The fact that he wasn't sure what he was saying or why was a minor problem. He was just following the new impulses, and seeing where it got him. It was a lot like surfing. Down the waterfall.

"And, um… sorry for failing to maintain dialogue and appear non-threatening? That's what El'el said I did. I… didn't realize I was doing that. Or not doing, I guess. This fear aura thing I have now is cool but annoying like hell, and I… I think it's pretty cool that you're managing to ignore it, somewhat?" Mary blinked in confusion, her expression morphing into disbelief more and more with every word he said. Then she smiled. It was bright, and honest. Almost blinding in sincerity. Dennis' heart skipped a beat.

Oh, I like it when people smile at me like that.

"Oh my god," her breath hitched as she turned to Lily.

"He's nice! I knew he was nice!" She was almost screaming at the girl in maniacal triumph, her fear and nervousness forgotten in an instant.

"I told everyone he was nice! I was right. I knew it!" She then proceeded to run into Lily like an overenthusiastic torpedo, bouncing on her feet as she hugged the girl.

"I knew I was right. I'm always right about things like that! I told you, and I was right!"

"I remember it a bit differently," Lily replied blankly while Mary hugged the hell out of her, not a hint of emotion on her face. Dennis could feel that the girl was beaming with pride though. Metaphysically. What the hell was she proud of?

"Oh don't be a sass!" In Dennis' humble opinion, Mary's reaction seemed to be a bit over the top. Maybe not just a bit. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed it though. Dennis sat at the table, somewhat proud of himself for not fucking up a social interaction for once, and noticed the half-finished plate from yesterday. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that food was now something that he needed again, and he didn't resist the impulse to eat his fill, enjoying Mary's chattering in the background.

Since when did he enjoy anyone's chattering in the background? Huh. He shook his head, discarding the thought. It wasn't important, and he had to pick his battles if he wanted to do anything but wander in his own head. It was way too easy to get lost in his thoughts. The food was… Well, it wasn't good, but he didn't mind it that much. He never did, to be fair, and he was glad to realize that he still wasn't a picky eater. He needed a plan. As he chewed, the thought echoed in his head. It was an important one.

He was absolutely fucking lost, just somehow existing from moment to moment without losing it, and he needed a plan. There were a million things that he should be doing, and it was ridiculously easy to blame himself for not doing them. So easy, in fact, that he somehow managed to default into a state of not thinking about them at all, because it was a dark pit and it would be, at the very least, unproductive to jump into it, but he needed to be doing something. Preferably the right thing.

Something that both felt right and was right. A plan. He was so fucking lost it wasn't even funny. But he was nothing if not determined. So what if he judged his every breath for not being heroic enough, a ghost of No-Soul-Dennis whispering into his ear about every person who died while he wasted his time apologising for nonsense and not eating in superspeed?

So what if even thinking about going back to the grind made something inside of him scream, while the same fucking ghost was telling him that it was just a fallback into the old habits, mimicking instead of doing it for the right reasons? So what if he felt guilty for not jumping into that pit and somehow resolving whatever made him fucked up and not a hero? He had superspeed. He could use it to do the equivalent of months of self-reflection in minutes.

He could've been a paragon of virtue already, if he weren't a coward. Probably. He had a Soul, a capacity to be the real thing, and every second that he wasn't was like a small dagger piercing his heart. So fucking what? He had a goal, he had a means, and enough determination to power a small city with the force of his will. It didn't matter how hard or terrifying the task was. Only that it was theoretically possible. So he chewed. He compartmentalized. He plotted.