The Bento
In hindsight, Pai reflected, sending water flea chimeras to the library had been an ill-advised start to his campaign. The information they had gathered by absorbing the books was not only fragmented and mostly useless, but the scene they had caused was downright embarrassing. He wanted to wage war, not engage in common vandalism. And as for gathering data, there were much more efficient ways of doing that.
Such as hacking into the library computer at midnight, for instance.
He surveyed the shadowy room, his superior Cyniclon eyesight allowing him to see as clearly as in daylight. It surprised him how much this place resembled the Database in his home city: the muted browns and grays, the smell of dust and old paper, the scholarly hush that had been so welcome to a boy escaping from his raucous younger brothers. But there, the similarities ended: instead of metal, the shelves were made of wood; the books included not only precious antiques, but new, disposable paperbacks (As if I needed another reminder that these humans take their abundant flora shamefully for granted!) and there was one computer, whose capabilities (and security protocols) Pai considered downright primitive.
He really was lightyears from home.
Shutting down the computer once his work was done, he stood up and began to walk among the shelves. Science. History. Biography. Literary Fiction. Romance. Mystery. Children/Young Adults. A veritable treasure trove of alien culture, if he were interested. The writing was unfamiliar, but the universal translator implanted in his brain rendered it all into his own language, just as it did spoken words. How many books could he take before the humans realized they were missing? And why couldn't the species have been just a few rungs lower on the evolutionary ladder? It wasn't easy to despise a race which evidently valued knowledge and creativity almost as much as his own people did.
He ended up with a whole stack of books, which he carried to one of the tables. He had eight hours left until the library re-opened, which was plenty of time to skim the indexes and choose what he wanted to take, then teleport back to his own dimension before his brothers even woke up. Just as he sat down, however, he caught sight of something peculiar on the seat next to him: a box wrapped in red cloth, clearly forgotten by one of the customers.
Pai's curiosity, both his greatest strength and weakness, got the better of him. He untied the knot and opened the box.
It was divided into four neat compartments: a large one containing sticky white grains (with an unfamiliar pink symbol drawn in food coloring) and three smaller ones containing what he guessed was meat and vegetables. It smelled delicious, even after several hours left behind. Pai picked up a chunk of the meat, sniffed it, and almost took a bite before putting it down again. After all, it might not even agree with his physiology.
But what a criminal waste! Deep Blue-sama, give me strength, he thought, gritting his teeth. Either these humans are worse than we thought, or whoever did this was severely distracted ...
By a swarm of giant water fleas, for instance. In which case, he couldn't blame the culprit after all.
Gathering up the soft red cloth, he saw an envelope fall out of it. It was sealed with the same symbol that decorated the rice: two symmetrical, curving lines that met in a point, like an arrowhead. What could it mean?
The letter inside the envelope, written with red ink in tiny, precise characters, read:
Edomurasaki-san,
I made this in the hope of showing you just how much our conversations have meant to me. When we first met, your love of reading made me notice you. Wen we spoke, your wisdom and maturity earned my respect. And when you gave me that beautiful book and said what you did about my smile, your kindness won my heart.
I know you might not feel the same, all things considered, but please accept this anyway, as it was made with the most sincere intentions.
Yours truly,
Midorikawa Lettuce
PS.: You were right, "Sunset in Tahiti" is my favorite.
Pai put the letter down on the table, feeling uneasy. He hadn't realized it would be something so personal. How strange, to think of these aliens writing love notes and giving gifts. He hadn't expected them to be so … real.
Don't be silly. Of course they have their mating rituals, just like any other sentient species. That still doesn't mean they have the right to ruin our ancestral homeworld.
Still, he lingered over the note one more time. The name "Lettuce" sounded familiar, like an itch in the back of his mind. Where had he heard it before?
"You're the only one who's immune! Mew Lettuce, now!"
"Ribbon Lettuce Rush!"
Could it be … ?
Memories of Mew Lettuce, the only one among that pathetic bunch to resist the hypnotic effect of the water fleas reading a history text, sprang to mind with surprising vividness. Her shimmering green corset and knee-high boots. The defiant way she turned to face him, eyes narrowed, silencing the water fleas with one powerful jet of water conjured from the instruments in her hands. The way her single braid whirled when she moved.
At first glance, the hairstyle had misled him into taking her for the leader of the group, since on his planet, one braid instead of two signified adulthood. But of course, it was illogical to expect humans to follow the same cultural customs – and besides, it was the pink-haired one who had struck the final blow.
The forgotten box had to be hers; the coincidence of two people with the same name, attending the same rather small library on the same day, was almost statistically impossible. He tucked the letter into his trouser pocket and picked up the box.
One can never know too much about one's opponent, he justified to himself. The other voice, whispering deep in the back of his mind, he chose to ignore.
Whoever Edomurasaki-san may be, it whispered, he is a fool not to accept her gift.