1 Of Sand and Ice Cream

The small town of Obin lay tucked away at the corner of a mountainside, overlooking a lush green valley.

Temperatures were known to drop below freezing in the winter, but during the summer, it wasn't uncommon to hear people complaining about the heat as they bumbled around on the streets.

One of the only things people got to look forward to during this period was the beach. There was a certain elegance to the summer coast: the pearly white sands, the gleaming waters, the furious heat of the sun - gorgeous. As Obin had a very strict no-littering policy, its beaches were consistently rated as one of the best vacation spots in the South.

Which was good, because tourism was the largest source of income for this coastal town. Due to its lack of natural resources and small population, Obin wasn't anywhere as developed as its neighbouring cities.

The benefits of a small town were vast. There were only three degrees of separation within the community of barely 16,000 people, with everyone knowing someone who knew someone who knew someone else. Thanks to that, crime was almost non-existent - you never knew when you'd rob a friend's brother by accident, for example.

That didn't mean that there was no need for police. Enforcers, the governing arm of the law, were stationed in every city to deter petty criminals, and Obin was no exception.

That being said, being posted to Obin in summer often felt like a punishment detail; the heat often exceeded the 30 degree mark in the shade. During times like these, there was nothing better than wolfing down an ice cream.

"Both for you, sir?" joked Nero Verace. His eyes twinkled mischievously as the enforcer punched him on the shoulder. "That uniform's looking pretty tight."

"Can you blame me?" grunted Officer Hopps. "It's the only thing keeping me sane in this weather. Good thing there's people like you willing to work in this heat."

"What do you have to do here anyway?" asked Nero, reaching into a freezer unit on his cart and pulling out two chocolate cones. "Nothing happens in Obin."

"Nothing that you know of. There's been word of some suspicious activity in the region lately. Have you heard anything, seen any strangers around?"

Nero took a moment to sieve through his memories; it wasn't easy, with sweat dripping into his eyes every few seconds. "I don't think so. What's there for strangers to do in Obin?"

"That's classified information. And I have to get going; my ice-cream's melting. Let me know if you find out anything."

The enforcer tipped Nero generously and got on his scooter, ice-cream dripping all over the floor. Somebody was going to have to clean that up.

As Nero watched him go, a small hand tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump in surprise.

"How's business, ice-cream boy?"

"Who the h- how many times have I told you to stop doing that?"

An 18-year old girl grinned back at him, brushing a lock of black hair out of her face. She was incredibly attractive by anyone's standards, with her small face, large brown eyes, and high cheekbones - traits that made Nero suspect that she somehow managed to choose all the best genes from both her parents as an embryo.

"About 12 times..? You'll need to say it about 18 more times before I'll consider stopping."

Nero sighed. Ophelia Katori was only a year younger than him, but she constantly alternated between acting like his mom and a brat.

"Business has been great. And it's been half an hour since you were supposed to take over."

"If it's doing so well, why don't you continue to work for a little bit? I haven't had enough of the beach yet."

"Why? Lots of good looking guys on the beach?"

Ophelia threw a playful arm around Nero, her grin growing cheekier. "Oh? Are you jealous?"

"In your dreams. Hurry up and take over my shift; I want to close up once we're done with our inventory. The sun is killing me."

As much as he hated to admit it, Ophelia could draw a summer crowd like nobody else.

She also had an annoying habit of giving out freebies to little children, which meant that there was often a long line of noisy kids queuing up at the booth. Nero couldn't complain, though - he didn't have to deal with all the excited chatter while he was on his break.

"I told everyone I'd be starting my shift at 2," said Ophelia apologetically. "That's in another 30 minutes - but I'll work an extra hour, okay?"

"Til 7? You'll sell everything out by 4pm anyway," Nero shot back.

Ophelia winked at him. "I'd say 3pm. There were a lot of people on the beach today."

To Nero's annoyance, she was right. Despite being one of the hottest weeks of the year, there were dozens of people looking to soak up the sun - Ophelia might just set a new record for the fastest day of sales.

"Maybe I'll work until 4pm instead, and you can tell 'em to come later."

"Oh come on, there's no need to be so spiteful. We're splitting the money evenly - what does it matter who's working more? But if it makes you feel better, I'll take over now; it's my turn anyway."

True to her word, Ophelia nudged Nero out of the way and started ringing the ice-cream bell with her distinctive triple chime. Nero had long since learned not to copy her signature ringing style - it helped to let people know who exactly was at the stand.

Like well-trained puppies, people instantly began to make their way towards her. Most of them were guys: guys she knew from school, guys from neighbouring schools, guys whose girlfriends were out of town, and kids. Nero almost pitied them - for some reason, no suitor had ever managed to get Ophelia's number, even those whom she herself thought were attractive.

"So, what did the enfo want?" asked Ophelia, handing out ice-creams one after another. "I'm sure it wasn't just chocolate ice cream."

"He said something about suspicious people moving into Obin," replied Nero, bundling up another set of $10 notes. When Ophelia was at the stand, he would take it upon himself to handle the cash, so that the line would progress faster. "Do you know anything about it?"

"If you need protection from suspicious people, just call me," said a tall, surfer looking guy. He winked at Ophelia, and handed her a $10 note with his phone number scribbled on it. "The name's Dylan. Keep the change."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dylan," said Ophelia, giving him a wide smile. "Thanks! Here's your ice-cream."

Nero hid a grin as he pocketed the money. He knew that Dylan would never get as much as the tail end of a bad cough from Ophelia, but Dylan didn't need to know that.

"Not much," said Ophelia, now addressing Nero. "I've been seeing a lot of new faces recently, but they could just be tourists."

"How many tourists can there be in Obin?"

"I don't know - if you want a picture, all you have to do is ask," shot Ophelia to a group of boys at the side. "Come here, Nero, strike a pose for the camera."

"It's not our problem anyway," said Nero, his eyes crinkling as the boys looked at him in distaste. "All I want to think about now is school."

"Right. I wanted to talk to you about that after my shift. I promise you're gonna like it."

"What does it have to do with me?"

"I'll tell you after work - I don't want to ruin the suspense."

"And also because you don't want everyone here to know which school you applied to," snicked Nero. "Alright - let's finish this and wrap up."

Time flew by quickly, as it usually did when one was hard at work. Aside from a small incident where Nero had to step in to deter a particularly pushy customer, sales went by pretty smoothly.

By 2.49pm, all the ice-cream was sold out. Even though they were charging almost twice as much as the supermarket, people were willing to pay a little more for the convenience, as well as to support the two kids who were willing to sell ice-cream in this asinine heat.

After closing up the booth, the two friends sat down on the curb, exhausted. Nero thumbed through the notes and passed Ophelia a sizable chunk of the money.

"You'd better split it evenly this time," warned Ophelia. "You need the money more than I do."

"Most of the tips were for you anyway," retorted Nero. "Keep the extra."

"But you've worked the whole day. So…" Ophelia pressed a wad of notes into Nero's lap - he refused to take them, and they fluttered to the floor. "Stop being so stubborn."

"I already paid off rent for this month, so I don't need the extra. You- ah, damn it."

A gust of wind suddenly picked up, blowing the notes off the ground and into the air. Nero chased after them - but the wind seemed to have a will of its own, determined to carry as many notes as it could into the ocean.

It took Nero a full minute to wring the last bit of seawater from his shorts. Fortunately, with the help of a few trustworthy beachgoers, he was able to retrieve every note that was blown away. The ordeal fuelled his determination to nag at Ophelia once he got back - if someone wasn't already there, talking to her.

A blonde dude with chrome-tinted sunglasses and a golden necklace was sitting beside Ophelia, no doubt trying to chat her up. Just a few metres away was another guy who was looking directly at Nero, one of his fingers pointed towards the sky. As Nero walked towards Ophelia, the guy began to twirl his finger, spiralling it in a circle.

In response, the sand around Nero began to shift. Tiny grains of sand buffeted his skin, stinging his exposed arms and legs and forcing him to squint.

Blasted espers.