036 - Alliance

*****

I 'm feeling confused again.

Who am I?

Why am I here?

What am I doing here?

What is my purpose?

What is life?

You might be wondering why I'm asking these philosophical questions, but these are the questions that we all ponder at some point in our lives, especially during moments of uncertainty or contemplation.

As with many of you, I'm wrestling with these questions because of my current perplexing situation. And the phrase that has bewildered me the most is, "Join hands with me."

These words do not confuse me but the person who said it, because what's sitting in front of me is a round plum meatball.

How should I put it? Its like crow calling peacock ugly! No, that doesn't suit this situation. How can I explain this?

Well, I think you might understand if you rewind a bit back.

- Flashback -

"She is cute from every angle."

Who am I talking about? You know who I'm talking about, buddy. I'm currently observing Elain from a distance as she converses with her classmates in the academy plaza. I'm on the second-floor corridor, concealed from her view.

You might be wondering why I haven't approached her. It's quite simple. I'm deliberately crafting an enigmatic image of myself in her perception. She knows very little about me; we've only had two brief interactions. So, by keeping our interactions minimal, I'm leaving gaps in her understanding of me. I'm shrouding myself in an aura of mystery to stoke her curiosity.

My goal is to make her curious or, even better, to arouse curiosity in her friends, who may eventually influence her to seek me out. I'm relying on this curiosity to evolve into affection or love. The plan is to create such intrigue that she can't resist the urge to know me better.

She would come to meet me to return the blazer, and if she doesn't return my blazer, I can use that as an excuse to meet her and ask her out. I refuse to play the role of a secondary character who loses the girl to the first suitor just because he arrive on the first page of the manga.

No, I'm the protagonist in this story and I will get the girl.

"You're grinning like a pervert," a high-pitched voice interrupts my internal monologue.

"What?" I retort as I look in the direction of the voice.

But to my astonishment, I'm confronted by an unexpected sight—a plump meatball with reddish-pink sauce on its head.

"What's with the 'I've never seen anything like this' expression?"

The meatball is talking fluently! Is there a species of talking meatball I'm not aware of?

"Confusion: a meatball is talking," I mutter, almost believing I'm in a dream.

"Hey, who are you calling a meatball?" The meatball retorts, clearly irked at my comment.

Am I dreaming? Probably. Maybe I'm just dozing off in class, having a bizarre food-related dream. It feels like a lucid dream.

"What is it that you want?" I inquire, striving to maintain a semblance of normal conversation.

"Your name is Zeru, right!" the meatball asks.

How does a meatball know my name? Perhaps this is part of the dream.

"Yes, I'm Meatba-ahem... Zeru," I affirm, barely preventing myself from saying my name is "meatball."

"ha," the meatball scoffed at my mistake.

I can't believe how expressive this meatball is.

The meatball proceeds with its questions. "You were the one who had an argument with Adam in the training grounds today."

"Yes, that was me. But why do you ask?" I raise an eyebrow, perplexed about the meatball's intentions.

"You like Elain, right?" the meatball inquires.

"Yes, I do like her. But why are you asking this?" I decide to be open about my feelings, even in this strange dream.

"Well, I'm here to help you," the meatball announces with a smile.

"Okay," I respond with a nod, going along with this unusual dream scenario.

The meatball gestures for me to follow. "Come, let's go to a more private space."

I follow the meatball out of the campus and into the city. Although it may seem like a city, it's essentially an extension of the academy, built to accommodate students and their families. It has everything you'd find in a typical city: shops, cafes, inns, restaurants, bakeries, and even its own independent army and police. But it's a peaceful place with little to no crime, as only academy workers and students' families are allowed in.

"Here," the meatball takes us into a fancy restaurant.

I'm taken aback by the grandeur of the place. Everything in the restaurant was glittering. I have gone to fancy restaurant but never to a too fancy restaurant as the price of food was little too high to my liking. They will give you food the size of a pea and say it cost 1 gold.

Those thieving bastard!

So, I only go to relatively cost-effective restaurants. Food is supposed to fill your stomach!

I follow the meatball's lead, and it converses with the middle-aged waiter with gray hair at the sides of his head. The waiter bows before leading us to a private lounge.

The room is spacious, with a table near the window offering a view of the streets. The waiter addresses the meatball, "Here, young miss. You can talk in private."

"Thanks, Hans," the meatball replies.

Hans, the waiter, inquires, "Do you need anything else?"

The meatball orders two premium steaks. It's a bit unusual for a meatball to order meat, but this dream is full of peculiarities, and I am not oppose to it.

The meatball points to a chair, signaling for me to sit. "Come sit. We can talk until the food is ready."

I sit down, folding my arms and getting straight to the point. "So, why did you bring me here?"

I'm cautious, remembering the negotiation rule about not touching anything the other party offers before a deal is made. I you did, you lower your stakes as you now owe the other.

The meatball evades my question. "Why don't you eat first?"

"No, tell me why you brought me here," I insist, maintaining my stance.

"I know you like Elain, and I want to help you achieve that goal," the meatball says, evading a direct answer. "I love people who strive for love."

I'm not buying this vague response. "Cut the nonsense. What do you want in return? What's your objective?"

The meatball finally relents. "I like Adam, and I don't want Elain near him. She's the only girl who can approach him normally. If she's removed, I can take her place in Adam's heart."

This meat ball is arrogant. Even I have to agree that Adam is a bit, just a little tiny bit, more handsome than I am. But how can a meatball steal his heart. Is my problems manifesting themselves as my dream to provide me a solution?

But I'm not thrilled with the meatball's arrogance. "What's in it for me? I can do this on my own. Why do I need your help?"

The meatball continues to negotiate. "I can provide you with information about Elain—her likes, dislikes, family situation, ambitions, and more. I'll help you get closer to her, even get you into combined classes. Does that sound good?"

I play along with this dream logic. "Fine. So, what do you want from me in return?"

The meatball's answer takes me by surprise. "There's nothing you can provide me. Your role is to keep the flies away. If you befriend Elain, Adam will follow. Then, you'll introduce me to Adam."

I can't see any immediate downsides to this bizarre dream deal. "Seems like a reasonable deal and there are no losses for me. But what about you? How will you make him fall in love? Why don't I break him and you use the chance to gain his affection?" I suggest.

The meatball hesitates but eventually responds, "You want to take down Adam. Do you think you can beat him?"

Confident in my abilities, I declare, "He's not a swordmaster. I can take him."

The meatball doesn't seem convinced. "You're quite arrogant."

"Believe me, Meatball. If you go far north, you will hear bards sing my legend," I reply truthfully.

"Ha," The meatball scoffed.

With this negotiation, our meal arrives.

"The meal is here!" the middle-bald waiter brought the food.

The smell of the fine cooked meat filled the room when he opened the lid. The meat is crisp brown and oily.

"Let's eat, before we continue out negotiations!"

"Okay,' I agree.

I don't want the meal to cool down!

I cut the meat, I could feel its texture of the meat as the juice leaks out of the meat. I place the meat in my mouth, and it melted like butter. Ah, this is so good!

"Hmmm, good!"

It good for a small piece of meat. I need to eat a whole boar for my stomach to settle. So, this small snack is indeed tasty.

*clank**clang*

With the sound of clacking sound of fork and knife the meat disappears, but I am still hungry.

*grrr*

My stomach protest at the tiny amount of food.

"Just order more, I will pay since I brought you," the meatball state.

"Thank you," I was grateful for her generosity.

I gestured to the waiter to come near.

"Do you have a whole boar roasted like this?" I asked.

"t-that," the waiter didn't know what to say.

"If you don't have just bring me that amount of food," I gave a solution to his predicament.

"O-okay sir," the waiter rushed out the door.

I turned to the meatball which was still eating. I am still wondering how a meatball can eat meat. Hmmm, since this is a dream, I don't need think too much about it.

The meal was scrupulous and delicious but they couldn't satisfy my stomach.

I turn to the meatball, which is still eating. "So, when will you provide me with the information about Elain?"

"I'll give it to you tomorrow at class," the meatball answers without looking up from its food.

I'm surprised. "You're in my class?"

"Yes," the meatball responds.

"Wow, this is absurd," I exclaim. "This dream is incredibly creative. I'm talking to a meatball that claims to be my classmate."

"Who are you calling 'Meatball'? I have been patient with you due to our co-operation but you keep pushing boundaries," The meatball shouts in anger.

"Come on, its just a dream," I shrugged.

"What are you talking about? Are you on drugs?" The Meatball question.

"If I am not, how am I talking with a Meatball with red sauce on its head? Do you think that's normally possible?" I replied.

The meatball takes offense, raising its glass and pouring water on my face. But oddly, I don't wake up.

I wipe my face with a handkerchief. As I reopen my eyes, the meatball has transformed into a girl with a chubby face, pink-red hair, and the academy's red blazer.

I'm left thoroughly baffled.

-End of Flashback-

*****