The cavern walls blurred past as Eliane, Sanza, and Jelly ran, their footsteps echoing off the stone in overlapping rhythms. Behind them, the sound of explosions rolled through the passage like distant thunder, the aftershocks vibrating through the floor and up through their legs. Dust trickled from the ceiling, the falling grains igniting into tiny, golden sparks as they drifted through the dim sheen of the chamber.
Eliane skidded to a stop.
Her silver ponytail swung forward, slapping against her cheek. She looked over her shoulder, her large blue eyes wide, her chest heaving. The darkness behind them swallowed the passage, hiding whatever had caused those sounds. Her white chef's jacket was smudged with dust, and a small tear near the elbow marked where she had scraped against a rock.
"But what about—"
Sanza grabbed her arm. His red hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his face was flushed from running. His small chest rose and fell in rapid gasps, but his voice carried a sharp edge of urgency.
"Come on!"
He tugged her forward, and she stumbled after him, her protests dying in her throat. The passage narrowed ahead, the walls pressing close, and then—
Light.
A crevice split the rockface, golden beams pouring down from somewhere above, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. The light was warm, alive, a stark contrast to the cold darkness of the cave. Jelly bounced toward it, his translucent blue body catching the glow and scattering it in tiny rainbows.
"Bloop! Hurry!"
He squeezed through the narrow opening, his gelatinous form compressing and stretching, and then he was through. Eliane followed, turning sideways, her petite frame slipping between the rocks. Sanza came last, his shoulders scraping against the stone, his teeth gritted against the discomfort.
Then they burst out.
The ground disappeared beneath their feet, and they tumbled down a short slope, limbs flailing, voices crying out in surprise. They landed in a heap at the bottom—Eliane on the bottom, Sanza on top of her, and Jelly somewhere in the middle, his body squished flat between them.
Jelly wiggled.
His gelatinous form writhed, slipping and sliding, until he popped free from under the two children. He thrust his little arms into the air, his starry eyes wide with triumph, his permanent toothy grin stretched across his face.
"Bloop! Freedom!"
Sanza pushed himself up, his hands pressing against Eliane's back. His voice came out muffled, indignant.
"How are you so heavy? Get off of me!"
Eliane's head whipped around, her blue eyes flashing. Her silver hair was tangled, and a smudge of dirt marked her cheek. She shoved at Sanza's shoulders, trying to throw him off.
"I am not heavy! You are just small and weak!"
They pushed themselves to their feet, facing each other, their voices rising in that particular pitch that meant a full argument was about to erupt. Sanza jabbed a finger toward her, his Gallagher eyebrows drawn down in a scowl.
"I am not weak! You are just huge—"
Jelly bounced away.
His starry eyes were fixed on something ahead, something that had stolen his attention completely. He bounced higher, his body wobbling with each hop, his voice rising in a joyful cry.
"Bloop! Adventure!"
The sports field stretched before them, a flat expanse of grass that went on forever. The sun hung overhead, warm and golden, casting long shadows across the field. Makeshift goal posts stood at either end—wooden frames draped with fishing nets, their ropes frayed and knotted. A straight row of wooden pillars marched across one side of the field, their surfaces scarred and worn, with a well-worn path weaving in and out between them.
The grass was green, soft, dotted with small white flowers that nodded in the breeze. The smell of cut grass and warm earth filled the air, a stark contrast to the damp stone of the cave.
Eliane noticed Jelly bouncing away. She chased after him, her boots pounding against the grass.
"Jelly, wait!"
Sanza followed, his small legs pumping, his eyes sweeping across the field. His head swiveled, taking in the goal posts, the pillars, the open sky above. His voice carried a note of wonder.
"What is this place?"
Eliane looked around, her brow furrowed. She had never seen anything like it—this open space, this strange arrangement of posts and nets. Her hand reached up to touch her silver hair, a nervous habit, and she tucked a strand behind her ear.
Then she felt it.
A presence. A motion. Something flying toward her head.
She ducked.
The motion threw her off balance. Her feet tangled beneath her, and she fell, her hands reaching out to catch herself. Sanza, who had been running close behind, tripped over her and landed on top of her with a grunt.
They lay in another heap, arms and legs tangled, dust rising around them.
Sanza pushed himself up, his face red with frustration. "Watch where you are going!"
Eliane shoved at his shoulders, her voice sharp. "Get off of me!"
Ciel Nguyen jogged up, his sandals slapping against the grass, his dark hair flopping with each step, his Rocco Sterling T-shirt was untucked. He stopped a few feet away, his large brown eyes wide with concern.
"Sorry about that. I didn't see you there."
Eliane and Sanza scrambled to their feet, their bodies turning toward the newcomer, their postures defensive. Eliane's hands curled into fists at her sides. Sanza's jaw set in that stubborn line that meant he was preparing to argue.
Jelly bounced back over, his starry eyes blinking. He had been chasing a fly—a small, buzzing thing that had danced just out of reach—and he had finally swallowed it. He grinned, his toothy smile wide and friendly.
"New Friend!"
Ciel's head snapped toward the sound. He blinked hard, his eyes widening as he took in Jelly's bouncing, wobbling form. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.
"What is that?"
Eliane stepped forward, placing herself between Ciel and Jelly. Her voice carried a protective edge.
"That's our friend. Who are you?"
Ciel's eyes landed on his soccer ball, which had rolled a few feet away during the commotion. He jogged over, scooped it up, and tucked it back under his arm. He turned back to face them, his expression open and friendly.
"I am Ciel Nguyen. Who are you?"
Sanza and Eliane exchanged uneasy glances. They had not expected to meet anyone here, in this strange field, under this open sky. Their eyes met, questions passing between them, and then—
Jelly bounced onto Ciel's shoulder.
The gelatinous creature perched there, his starry eyes bright, his toothy grin wide. He pointed a mitten-shaped thumb at his chest, his voice cheerful.
"Bloop! Jelly."
Ciel chuckled. The sound was warm, genuine, the laugh of someone who found joy in unexpected places. He tilted his head, studying Jelly with curious eyes.
"You're funny looking."
Eliane stepped forward, her voice carrying a note of impatience. "Where are we?"
Ciel gestured around them, his arm sweeping across the field. "This is a sports training field. It's where I come to practice my soccer skills."
He dropped his soccer ball to the ground. It bounced once, twice, and then he stepped forward and kicked it with the inside of his foot. The ball rolled in a smooth arc, curving around an invisible defender, and stopped at the base of one of the wooden pillars. He jogged after it, scooped it up, and returned.
Eliane and Sanza watched, their eyes tracking the ball's movement. Sanza's brow furrowed.
"Is it hard?"
Ciel shrugged. "I don't know. Here, you try."
He kicked the ball toward Sanza.
The ball rolled across the grass, slow and steady, an easy target. Sanza stuck out his foot to stop it—and missed. The ball rolled past him, slowing to a stop a few feet behind.
Sanza stared after it, his face reddening.
Ciel raced after the ball, his sandals slapping against the grass. He dribbled it back, his feet moving in quick, precise touches, the ball never straying more than a few inches from his toes.
"Like this!"
He showed them how to block with the inside of the foot, how to maneuver with the outside, how to stop the ball dead with the sole. His movements were fluid, practiced, the result of years of practice on this very field.
Sanza ran over, his eyes fixed on the ball, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. Eliane followed, her curiosity overcoming her caution.
"Hey!"
Ciel kicked the ball to Sanza. Sanza stopped it—actually stopped it, his foot connecting with the ball and holding it in place. His face lit up with surprise.
"I did it!"
Ciel grinned. "Now kick it back."
Sanza kicked. The ball wobbled, veered to the left, but Eliane lunged and stopped it before it could roll past. She straightened, the ball at her feet, and looked down at it with wonder.
"This is... fun."
They began to play in earnest, kicking the ball between them, trying to keep it away from Jelly. The gelatinous creature bounced and wobbled, his body stretching and compressing as he chased the ball. He managed to trap it once, his gelatinous form enveloping the leather sphere, and then he spat it out with a triumphant cry.
"Bloop! You missed!"
Sanza and Eliane laughed—actual laughs, the sound bright and unexpected in the open air. They played on, their earlier tension forgotten, their movements growing more confident with each pass.
---
A ringing sound cut through the afternoon.
Ciel paused, his foot resting on the ball, his chest heaving. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small transponder snail. The snail's shell was painted with a simple floral pattern, and its eyestalks swiveled lazily as it rang.
He answered it.
His mother's voice crackled through the line, sharp and annoyed, carrying the particular edge of someone who had repeated herself too many times.
"Ciel, have you dropped off Ms. Charlotte Amaretto's delivery?"
Ciel's face went blank. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
The pause stretched too long.
"Ciel." His mother's voice dropped lower, dangerous. "Are you at that soccer field again? How many times do I have to tell you? Deliveries before soccer! Ms. Charlotte Amaretto is waiting! Get her deliveries NOW! Or—"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Ciel's thumb jabbed the button, cutting off the call. He stared at the snail for a moment, his chest heaving, then tucked it back into his pocket.
Eliane tilted her head, her silver ponytail swinging. "She sounds really mad."
Ciel shrugged, though his ears had turned pink. "She always sounds like that."
He looked at Sanza, Eliane, and Jelly, his expression shifting from embarrassment to disappointment. "I gotta go."
He turned toward the edge of the field, where a burlap bag sat forgotten near the tree line. His shoulders slumped.
Then his eyes brightened.
"Hey! You want to come with me?" He turned back to face them, his grin returning. "Ms. Charlotte Amaretto is really nice. She always gives me candied almonds. You want to come? I can show you around and share my candied almonds with you."
Jelly bounced high, his starry eyes wide. "Candies!"
Eliane and Sanza exchanged a look. Their eyes met, questions passing between them—trust, caution, curiosity. Then Eliane shrugged, and Sanza nodded.
"Okay."
They rushed over to the burlap bag, three pairs of hands grabbing the coarse fabric. The bag was heavy, filled with rice or grain, but they managed to lift it together. They began their trek toward Roast A Lotte, their footsteps falling in rhythm.
Sanza walked beside Ciel, his red hair catching the sunlight. "I am Sanza. Sanza Kaplan Figarland."
Eliane fell into step on Ciel's other side, her silver ponytail swinging. "Eliane Anđel."
Jelly bounced ahead of them, his translucent body glowing in the afternoon light. "Bloop! Jelly!"
Ciel grinned, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder. "Nice to meet you all. Wait until you taste the candied almonds. Ms. Amaretto makes the best ones on the whole island."
The path wound through the grass, toward the road that led to Roast A Lotte. The sun hung overhead, warm and golden, and the smell of the sea drifted on the breeze.
Behind them, the sports field sat empty, the goal posts casting long shadows across the grass. Ahead, the distillery waited, its copper vats gleaming, its owner expecting her delivery.
And four children walked together, strangers becoming friends, carrying a bag of rice toward an adventure none of them could predict.
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