Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 2: Stars in Far Places

Chapter 9

Captain | 大尉

"Yuki, aren't you hungry? Please, eat your dinner," I half order, half beg. Getting food down this child's throat has become ever more a struggle as the time has gone by.

She shrugs from where she sits on the armchair, passing a cloud of darkness from paw to paw in abject boredom. "I'm not hungry."

I exhale through pursed lips. I know she must be hungry; she hasn't eaten yet today and she barely ate yesterday. "Is your stomach empty?"

"Yeah," she mutters flatly, now tossing the cloud up and down like a strange sort of amorphous playground ball.

"Then you're hungry," I state, waving my own hand to send her cloud of darkness scurrying away and dissipating into the air. "Come eat your dinner."

She glares at me, annoyed by my removal of her plaything, and conjures another one. "It's not uncomfortable enough for me to want to change it, so I'm not hungry."

Groaning, I lean against the wall and rub the space between my eyes with one glove. "Hunger isn't just a sensation. How many times do I have to tell you this? If you don't eat, you'll eventually die."

Flopping so she's lying upside down on the armchair with her head hanging off the front, she disagrees, "I can't die. It's impossible. The Almighty Project Starfall won't let me die."

"You are nearly immortal and nearly invincible. The 'nearly' is the operative word here, and makes a great deal of difference."

"Well, I nearly don't care at all; how's that, Cappy?"

I sigh heavily and glare back at her with half-closed eyes. She drops the cloud of darkness on the floor by accident, and instead of forming another one once that one dissipates, she just closes her eyes and continues hanging off the front of the armchair. The child needs stimulation of some sort; she's like a powerful beast that's been set in a cage and given nothing to entertain herself with other than the occasional live prey that's thrown her way. The fact that all the food we're given is practically tasteless does nothing to help me in my efforts to get her to eat.

Trying another tack, I ask, "Is there anything you'd like to eat?" It's not like I really have any good options for her, but she seems to be a little fond of the rare piece of fruit we're given. Maybe I could hunt down some strawberries or apples or something for her.

"Batamon," she replies, as I probably should have expected.

"Other than that," I sigh. "Those are hardly nutritious, anyway; their blood sugar content is practically higher than ours."

"Then nothing," she sighs, and slumps off the chair, landing on her back on the floor and staring at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. "Nothing else tastes like anything, really. It all just tastes the same. Bland, boring... I have a strong sense of taste, according to you, and it still all tastes like nothing. What's the point of having a sense of taste, anyway? Why do we need food? It's so boring."

Under my breath, I murmur, "Are you even a Star Warrior anymore at this point?" Out loud, I reply, "There's better food out there. Eventually you'll be able to go try it; I promise."

"I don't care," she mutters, eyes closed again, lying perfectly still on the floor. "It doesn't matter, anyway."

"Well, if it doesn't matter, then get your mopey pile of flesh over here and eat your dinner."

"No."

"Yuki, I swear to Nova—"

"I still don't even know who or what that is, so swear to it all you like. It doesn't change anything. I still don't want to eat, so I'm not going to."