CHAPTER 270: CHAPTER 270 - BLABBING TO A REPLACEMENT GRANDFATHER

Sneaking around my own apartment like some sort of teenager avoiding their parents felt ridiculous to me, even if I was accustomed to doing just that even in my old body. However, I had somewhere I wanted to be this morning.

The air immediately around the apartment area is fairly nice smelling, but it does get... smoggier as I made my way across Vossden. Taking a route I hadn’t walked since perhaps the first few days of being in the city.

My heart sank a little when the bus stop bench was empty - I’d come all this way on a whim, and of course he wouldn’t be here. I was about to turn and leave when I spotted the very person I was hoping to see making his way slowly down the sidewalk.

Long white cane tapping a steady rhythm against the pavement to check for obstacles. Even from a distance, I recognized Edgar Mile’s meticulous - but extra confident for a blind man - gait.

He paused before he even got over to me, nose raising into the air before his face broke into that smile I’d seen a few times by now. Old, wrinkly, but welcoming.

Like the thing he is experiencing is the highlight of his day.

"I was beginning to wonder if the city had swallowed you up. Time flies once you start becoming a real resident, hm?"

"You can actually tell it’s me just from smelling the air?"

He chuckled while making his way over to sit in the same spot I met him in. Interestingly, the birds weren’t already waiting for his arrival, even though I was.

"No. Not exactly. You’re using the same shampoo as you did when I ran into you last time. It was an educated guess that your voice just confirmed."

"Oh. Well, yes. I’ve been... busy. Haven’t had time to swing by lately."

I found myself smiling as I sat beside him. Of all the people I’ve met here, human or not... for some reason I just feel the need to be a little more respectful.

Which is not to say I’ve felt no need to do so for other elderly individuals, such as Sarah, Martha, or Ginzaburo. I even helped a random stranger on my jog the day before who had gotten their wheelchair stuck in a sidewalk rut!

Yes, part of that was just being upset that no one else bothered. But that’s not the point. Do you think I would have left him there if the street was empty?

"Busy... busy is good. Busy means living. And living means you don’t have time for distractions, even though they’ll come like magnets to a fridge."

He tilted his head toward me as he spoke. Such a warm, wise voice. No offense to my wolf, but it would be the one I’d prefer as a companion in my soul, could the spirit I was contracted with be able to talk.

I said no offense. What does it matter that I think you would sound like what the internet here calls a ’Karen’?

I’m not sure why Anise decided to introduce me to that concept, but she did - and I believe I’ve just added yet another reason for Vrika to dislike a friend I’ve made.

"So, what kind of busy? I’m sure you came to talk to me about it."

"Would you believe me if I said I’ve been practicing to work as a model?"

"I would."

"...That easily?"

I suppose I have no reason to lie, but I still expected som sort of follow up question. Or does he just not care that much about a field that he can not enjoy?

"You sound happy when you mentioned it. So it must be true."

"I *sound* happy?"

"Proud, actually. Without arrogance. There’s a difference in the tone when someone sees their accomplishment as a matter of effort compared to a matter of course."

Huh - I would have expected with my narcissism and the seamstress’s ego lifting... for my situation to be both? He adjusted his position on the bench to face me, even though he didn’t need to do so just to hear me speak.

"And I think we’ve talked enough for me to get which it was. So, Citra Lomdi. Tell me about how you found work in the city after arriving as you did."

I talked. Describing the meddlesome acquaintance that might still be in my apartment, the interview, and the preparation. But halfway through explaining what I thought about magazine’s use of lighting angles... I stopped.

"I’m sorry, this probably isn’t very interesting for you. All this visual stuff when you can’t-"

"Can’t what? Enjoy hearing about something that clearly brings you this much satisfaction?"

Edgar shook his head while crumbling more of the piece of bread I’d brought him. The birds had found us at some point, forcing me to scarf down the protein bar I’d opened but taken only a bite of - before they tried to steal it.

"Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I enjoyed how engaged you sounded describing it far more than I would have enjoyed looking at any pictures back when I could still see."

The statement... hit me harder than it should have. Vrika yelped as the slab of | Guardian’s Composure | didn’t so much shatter as fizzle and pop - like it was turning from stone to sandy, boiling foam.

When was the last time like this? That I had someone care more about my joy? Was it really before I lost faith in Ravi?

Shaking off what stuck to its fur, the black wolf spirit barks and impresses upon me Kyrie Voss. But when I don’t even bother to let that take hold... because of her Fated pull to me that might allow her to feel *any* way, temporarily, so long as it lead to marking?

It actually deigns to use the others. Anise watching me pick out clothes I like from her suggestions, not just telling me which to buy. Ellie smirking at me when she realized I liked the photo booth so much. Claire... well, I’m actually not confident she cares about anything more than her own joy, but I get the point by now.

They all just... have slight reasons that I could ignore their reactive mirth to my small happinesses. But Edgar...

I guess if I really think about it, some young woman that goes out of her way to talk to you is a good reason to make her like you. To make her come back and talk even more. But it just doesn’t feel like what he is doing?

"Besides. It sounds like you’ve been collecting quite a circle of companions lately."

Fidgeting a bit uncomfortably after he begins to talk about the sort of thing I’m thinking of, I realize that I *did* talk about them. As I basically blabbed my whole last social week or so.

I even talked about Paul and Zoé... and how many points I’m earning on the Super Member program at the closest grocery store.

Knowing he cannot actually see me, even if he will *hear* me move... and groan... I hold my head in mortification - for I feel like a four year old visiting their grandpa!