DD 304 Ch 11 (Patreon)

"Wow," Misha said, twirling in her dress as she stepped out of the portal in awe of the city beyond. Her face was lit up under the evening sun. The blue hair that flowed down her back rippled with the light as if it were made of ocean waves, which only highlighted just how bright blue her eyes were as they turned to me, the awe still in them, though focused on me.

"It gets better," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. I'd dressed for the date in a button-down shirt and slacks.

Meanwhile, it seemed Des and Charlotte had kidnapped Misha and seen fit to get her ready. She wore a pair of sheer leggings, which was good, because otherwise her dress would have been scandalously short, not to mention her tail threatened to lift the skirt too high when it moved. Des had stuffed her into a little black number I recognized well enough to make me squint at what she was trying to accomplish.

"Do I look good?" Misha asked, doing a small twirl for me.

"You look fantastic." I thought they might have done a little too good a job, but perhaps the canvas was just stunning from the start. 

Her ears fluttered, her tail swished behind her, and it wasn't long before more people paused to pay attention. There'd already been some, simply because she looked so good in the dress, but after her tail moved, she got far more attention. Noticing the looks, she paused and her tail went still.

"Don't you dare feel self-conscious about a thing," I said, offering my arm.

"Right, yes, I won't feel self-conscious," she assured me, running her hands down her dress and squaring her shoulders. "Okay. So where are we going?" she asked, excitement filling her face as she spun around, looking up at the towering buildings.

Given the way her eyes traced the skyline, I had a feeling I'd picked a good place for our first date.

I held my arm out for her. "We can just walk for now. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It really is. Though, how do you get anywhere?" she asked, with wide, serious eyes, taking in just how large the city was. I suppose for someone who had no cities on her world and had only seen the dungeon cities this was on an entirely different level.

I stifled a chuckle. "We'll end up walking a fair bit."

"I imagined so. All of this is beyond me," she said. The streets were crowded, and as we moved, fewer people were staring at her. Instead, I got a fair few moments of attention. They recognized me, then again I’d been on TV plenty.

"People are staring at you," she said.

"Yeah, that's going to take some getting used to," I admitted.

"They should. You are Ken Nagato. A very big deal." Her tail smacked the ground hard enough the concrete cracked.

"Not so sure I'm worth that kind of reception, but I'll take what I can get. Right now they're paying attention to me. I think there was a recent news segment on me." Bellaire always seemed to want some sort of video done.

"News?" she asked, with a cute tilt of her head.

"Maybe we should get you a little more exposure than I'd planned." I rubbed my chin on how to best show Earth to someone who didn’t even have cities.

"As long as it's with you, I don't particularly care what we end up doing." She stated plainly.

"Well, then, how about this?" I pointed ahead to a mall. "I planned a little time before we got to the restaurant. What better way to teach you about Earth than rampant consumerism?"

She tilted her head in confusion and I shook mine. That wasn’t a good one.

"A joke. Perhaps you'll understand a little later."

“I understood the words you said, just not why it was so funny.”

When she mentioned understanding the words, I turned to her with a frown. "People here aren't speaking a universal language. Are you certain you're okay?"

"Well then, just don't lose me," she clung tightly to my arm. "Otherwise I'm going to get lost in this big world with people I don’t understand."

"If you did, someone from the UG would most certainly be contacted, and as soon as they realized who you were, someone would find you and help you back to my family." I told her, not wanting her to feel entirely tied to me.

"Reassuring, but unnecessary. You won't lose me," she said the last with a certain conviction, as if there was no other possible answer.

"Of course not. I'm just trying to reassure you, in case that was a fear of yours."

"No fear," she reassured me with a smile, but held on tightly anyway.

We walked past a bar replaying some late-night comedian; given how much everyone was laughing, it must be a good bit.

Misha paused at the window and stared inside. "That looks fun.”

“They're all watching a video of someone making jokes," I explained. "If you want, we could watch it ourselves later, though you might not have the context for some of the jokes." I could tell she was hooked; simply the sight of so many people enjoying something was proof enough that it must be worth looking at. While our societies might differ, it seemed some things transcended race well enough.

"We're going to go up there," I told her, pointing to a building whose front was made entirely of glass with a strange opening at the top that made it look a bit like a bottle opener.

"What's up there?" she asked.

"The floor up there is made of glass. It's a restaurant, and from there you have a view of the whole city." I panned my hand out across the city.

Misha's eyes went wide with excitement, understanding well enough what that would mean. "Yes, I want to go up there." Her ears flapped.

"Okay," I smiled at her enthusiasm. "I promise you, you won't regret it."

"Oh yes, I think it's safe to say there's little chance of this night ending in regret," she said, then quickly shot a glance out of the corner of her eye to check my reaction. “But, I may not know everything I am supposed to do.” She looked over at me.

“That’s easy. Just ask for ‘what does the chef recommend’ if you are unsure.” I told her with a smile.

She practiced the English phrase a few times as we walked.

"Come," I held up my arm again, and she latched on without needing any encouragement, happily pulling me along so we could get there sooner. It seemed my plan to bring her to the mall wasn't going to happen after all, not that I was disappointed. We could always explore more of the city afterward; in fact, it might even be more fun that way.

We reached the building's lobby, where men in suits with earpieces checked those coming and going. I assumed most of the building was offices. One of them immediately pegged us as customers and stepped over.

"Could I see your reservation?" he asked, and I pulled out my CID.

"Under Nagato," I told him. The earpiece man's eyes went wide enough that I could see them around his sunglasses as he checked my CID to confirm.

"Right this way, Mr. Nagato. It is a pleasure to have you here. The restaurant insisted I let them know the second you arrived." He spoke in a professional, hurried manner.

"They didn't need to make a big deal of it," I said, though his attention shifted to the woman beside me. I was certain he'd realized she wasn't human when his eyes went wider than when he'd realized who I was, or rather, when he realized what Misha was.

"And your guest's name?" he asked politely. "The restaurant would love to make sure any and all requests you might have can be fulfilled. Apologies for my ignorance, but are there any dietary needs or restrictions?"

I gestured for Misha to answer that herself. "I’m Misha. I don't think so," she said, turning to me for assistance. "This is my first time eating on Earth."

"We're honored that we're your first stop." The man walked us to the elevator and held it open, tapping an RFID card against a fob and hitting the button for floor sixty-eight. "I hope you both have a wonderful evening," he said. As the doors slid closed, I saw him press a button on the cord from his ear, rapidly talking into it.

"He was nice," Misha said.

"I think he was a little overwhelmed." I grinned, and she just stood, bobbing side to side, as elevator music played and we climbed up, up, up. The first few floors were wrapped in concrete so there wasn’t much to do until we came out of that to a glass tube that let us see out.

We rose along the side of the structure, watching the city as we climbed high above it. Misha's face was pressed against the glass in an instant, taking a deep breath, eyes sparkling as she looked out.

"There's so many people," she gasped, pointing down. "Look! It's like an ant hive spilling over. How does one world have so many people? This puts Star City to shame many times over."

"This is just one city, Misha," I put a hand on her shoulder. "The world has many such cities." 

Her eyes went wide, her mouth fell open. I was fairly certain I'd broken her. It was only the ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open that roused her enough to look away, which was good, given we were about to receive quite the reception.

"Mr. Nagato," a thin, older man raised his arms and greeted me like an old friend. "If we had known you were bringing someone for their first meal on Earth, we would have had someone meet you downstairs, perhaps given you a tour of the area. How has the city been treating you?" he asked Misha.

"So far it's been nice, though we haven't spent that much time in it yet. I'm excited to see more later, though." She shrugged in full honesty.

"You must let us give you some recommendations." He looked at me as if I might object.

"Oh, please, recommendations are welcome," I reassured him.

"Good, good. Then please follow me to your table." He led us through, making several gestures to people as we passed, a small group falling in behind us. "Now, madame, sir," he said as chairs were pulled out for us and Misha sat down with a smile that told me she was enjoying this novel experience. "Before we begin, do we have a preference on napkin color?" A server stepped up with a tray of navy blue, white, and black napkins all laid out in an immaculate display.

"Navy blue, I guess," I said. It was the most neutral color, and I didn't know the right answer. I turned to Misha to explain what was happening.

"What would the chef recommend?" Misha asked before I had a chance to say anything and I had to work to cover a smile.

"I think the navy blue would go lovely on you, and match your date for this evening," the man said smoothly. I was honestly impressed with his handling of the question.

"Perfect," Misha turned to me with a smile, proud she'd remembered to ask the chef.

"Well then, now that you're situated, we'd like to offer you a complimentary bottle of wine." Another assistant displayed the bottle to us, letting me read the label as if I'd know anything beyond the color. There wasn’t wine grown in the dungeon.

"Looks lovely," I said, and they opened it with a flourish that could only come from far too much practice, pouring me the barest glass. I hid my disappointment as he paused, clearly waiting for me to taste it. I took a sip, realizing that I had missed the subtle cue. "Wonderful," I said quickly. Everyone loved compliments.

"Fantastic," he said with a placid smile that made me realize I'd done something slightly incorrect, though I wasn't going to let that bother me. At least he poured me more wine.

As he was pouring, I realized that was probably supposed to be some sort of taste test. I really should learn how to do fancy dinners one day.

"Everyone here is so nice," Misha said once they'd walked away.

"Yes, well, I will say you're getting the best experience." I suddenly wondered if every other meal would be a let down now.

Misha nodded in understanding. "Of course, with your strength, no one's going to be rude to you here." That wasn't quite what I meant, but close enough.

"Something like that," I said non-committally, and she looked away, staring down through the glass at the whole city. "Better than the elevator?" I asked jokingly.

"It's easier to focus when the floor isn't moving," she nodded, causing her ears to flap and her tail swished where it was tucked under her tail.

"I suppose it is," I laughed, only for her to look at me with a frown.

"What, am I wrong?" She asked.

"No, it's just not how most people would put it." I put my hand on the table.

"That's good. If I were most people, I think I'd be boring for you." She eyed my hand but restrained herself from making a move.

"I don't think that's one of my requirements. Besides, let's not talk about what we might or might not do otherwise, and focus on the present," I slid my hand back.

"Yes, so what do we order?" she asked, picking up the menu and staring at it blankly.

"You can just order off the menu, or ask what the chef recommends again. Or you could say, 'I'll have what he's having.'"

She slowly spoke the words in English under her breath, practicing them for a moment.

"Do you two know which you'll be ordering?" the man asked, and I double-checked the name. "Metamorphosis."

"Yes, that is our special for the season." He took my menu, then turned to Misha.

"I'll have what he's having," she stated with an abundance of pride and a slow drawl.

"It is best to have the same meal," he agreed. "It does enhance one's experience, to be able to discuss it together."

Misha smiled and nodded, blinking at the man, likely unaware she couldn't understand him. Either way, he seemed perfectly content to go fetch us a meal.

The first course arrived even faster than I expected, two servers moving as if they'd been waiting just around the corner, placing several dishes I could only describe as small pillars in front of us. They certainly weren’t anything that I’d ever had in a cupboard.

"Today we have a treat for you," he said, then launched into a string of words and phrases that meant absolutely nothing to me, introducing several morsels of food in English I didn't understand. Still, Misha clapped her hands together. "That sounds lovely," she said as he walked away.

"You couldn't understand him," I said, with an accusing squint.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate his excitement to serve us this," she gestured at the plate. "If I know nothing else, I know that someone excited to show off their food is going to give us good stuff," she chuckled, and I could only shake my head.

"Des has been a bad influence on you." I told her.

"She's been a fine influence," Misha refuted, picking up one of the morsels off the center pillar and nibbling on it after glancing around to see how others were eating.

"Eat how you want," I said, nodding at everyone around us. "A privilege of being big, bad adventurers is that we don't have to care what anyone else thinks."

I watched as she took a few bites, tilting her head and then devouring a bit more. You could only take so many bites when each pillar only had a single morsel no bigger than a quarter.

AN - Well, I was going to do Helen, then pulled back. Guess I'll go in again with the plot I originally had planned for her.