Nocte Yin: Anti-Villain, Anti-Hero and Anti-Everything Else

Chapter Ten

Nocte had hoped to wake up back in her dorm the very next day with Pyralis dressed and ready to go, obviously to Assaku where they’d study extensively on subjects they already excelled in. But instead, Nocte woke up in Marie’s tiny basement room surrounded by the volumes of manga she had read herself to sleep the other night. Only through some good manga and massive tiredness could Nocte even bear to close her eyes when all she could hearwere the buzzing of the electrical wires in the walls and the humming of the oxygen machine. It had been hunger that hadmuted the noise the night before that. She was still not very used to the static in the air.

She reached for her glasses, almost knocking into the oxygen machine in the process, and lethargically placed the lenses over her eyes. With a blink, all the scattered manga along the floor and across her lap became pristine clear, all a washed in the early morning sunlight.

Beauty Pop by Arai Kiyoko.Tokyo Crazy Paradise and Skip Beat! by Nakamura Yoshiki. Sailor Moon by Naoko Takeuchi.Shiawase Kissa Sanchoume, Kimi ni Todoke, Hot Blooded Woman, Five, Oresama Teacher, Yankee-chan to Megane-chan by Matsuzuki Kou, Shiina Karuho, Hwang Mi Ri, Furukawa Shiori and Tsubaki Izumi respectively.

Nocte lifted her arms and reached for the ceiling in a half stretch, her spine curving and muscles resetting in her limbs. It really was a beautiful day from what she could glimpse in the tiny window, all sunshine and cotton clouds. She kicked off the covers with a sigh and stood for a full stretch. Stepping on her tip toes, she jumped a couple of times to loosen her body.

It was no use. She didn’t feel very happy or refreshed. She wanted to go back to Erisire.

“Burr!” Nocte pursed her lips, hitting her cheeks twice for colour and shock. “Wake up! Wake up! Breakfast!”

With such “encouraging” words, she dragged the oxygen machine up the stairs, taking long, deep breaths to gather herself. She nearly shivered when her bare feet touched the hardwood floors and felt herself reenergized when she heard Burghard in the kitchen (for the kitchen was his domain) looking through the drawers for a utensil. When she finally climbed up to the ground floor and saw him with his back to her, standing by the sink, she was suddenly touched by the domestic scene.

“Morning,” she greeted shyly.

Burghard spun, almost tripping over his own feet, and dropped the rolling pin on the tiles. Nocte winced sympathetically knowing that she had not only surprised him, but also scared him half to death. He really was a nice guy and she didn’t feel very nice for startling him.

“You okay?” she asked as he hastily picked up the rolling pin.

“Y-Yes, thank you,” he answered anxiously.

Nocte winced. “Sorry about that.”

Surprised, he gaped. “It’s not your fault, milady. I should have heard you, but I was…” he gestured to the spatulas, wooden spoons and the flour spots on the counters as an explanation, “busy.”

Nocte eased when she saw that he was trying to make her comfortable, when he, himself, was not very comfortable to begin with. Deciding to join in as a peace offering, she drifted into the kitchen and, as a response, Burghard dusted the counter with flour.  Nervously, for he knew she was present, he rolled out a ball of dough onto the platform, sending the flour to cloud the air like sugar dust.

Despite herself, Nocte giggled, feeling like a child at the mess, and that was all Burghard needed to relax. It delighted Nocte that he didn’t care about the untidiness; he just loved the process of the dough firming and taking hold like there was nothing more perfect than the mixture of flour and water.