Chương 99: Addressing Herself

Deciding to break the early morning silence with my usual level of high-society elegance, I casually threw out a low, abrupt, "Yo." The sudden vocalization hit the quiet balcony like a flashbang grenade, sending the poor girl launching a solid few inches straight into the air as a high-pitched, involuntary shriek escaped her vocal cords. Her entire physical framework went into instantaneous defensive overdrive, her hands flying up like she was preparing to fend off a surprise ninja ambush in the dark.

She whirled around at maximum speed, her wide eyes frantically scanning the immediate vicinity for the source of the acoustic terror, but the absolute exact second her tracking radar locked onto my distinctive face, her survival defenses completely evaporated. The rigid panic dissolved from her shoulders all at once, replaced by a visible wave of relief that practically broadcasted the fact that she no longer considered her life to be in immediate structural danger.

"A-Arthur-san..." Aiko breathed out at her customary microscopic volume, her stuttering Japanese accent vibrating with the familiar, low-level social anxiety that seemed to be her default setting for every human interaction. I gave her a casual wave and navigated my way over to a somewhat rusty, metallic patio seat tucked away into the far edge of the outdoor terrace, dropping my weight into the cold iron chair with zero grace.

I leaned back, crossing my legs while observing her miniature botanical laboratory, and decided to initiate a bit of standard conversational small talk by asking, "So, what's the deal, do you just have a massive thing for butterflies?" The question hung in the chilly morning air for a brief, calculated moment of hesitation as she carefully processed the inquiry, her eyes darting back down to the flower petal like she was formulating a top-secret response for a high-stakes interrogation.

"N-Not particularly," Aiko finally confessed, her quiet voice barely rising above the ambient rustle of the wind as she nervously twirled a stray lock of hair.

"I am actually more fascinated by the cocoon phase itself. The precise, isolated moment right before their grandest transformation takes place. Aiko-san finds the entire concept to be... deeply intriguing." I slowly pulled my face together, squeezing my features into a highly skeptical, deeply contemplative expression as I thoroughly crunched her bizarre bug philosophy through my own mental processing units, my eyebrows furrowing together into a solid, heavy ridge of utter confusion.

Aiko blinked her wide eyes at me, shifting her stance as she caught the total confusion plastered across my face.

"Did Aiko-san say something wrong, Arthur-san?" she squeaked out, her signature Japanese accent dropping the volume in the area down to a whisper. I leaned back in my metal seat, steeled my gaze, and pointed an accusation finger her way.

"You are locked into that exact habit again." The girl underwent an instant systemic panic, her posture stiffening up like a cat that just stepped on a cucumber. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"What exact habit do you mean?" she stammered, her hands doing a frantic little dance in the air as she tried to comprehend my feedback.

"The grammar parkour," I explained, steering my voice with the faux-gravity of a schoolmaster addressing a classroom menace.

"You keep bouncing back and forth between regular first-person talk and referring to yourself in the third person. It stands out like a bonfire in a dark forest, mostly because it is a total staple of your daily vocal routine." An instantaneous crimson tide rushed straight up her neck, completely engulfing her cheeks until she looked like an overripe tomato left out in the sun too long.

"Aiko-san is full of regret that you picked up on that terrible habit," she whimpered, her voice dropping into a register so low it barely registered on human radar as she stared a hole into her footwear.

"A part of your brain must be thoroughly convinced that Aiko-san is a total freak show right now." I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on her.

"Why not just choose one lane and stick to it? It looks like you are having a massive struggle just trying to decide how to talk about yourself." The balcony went dead silent for a long moment. She froze up completely, her gaze dropping down to her boots as she chewed on my question, her fingers twisting around the edge of her clothes.

"W-When I was back on Earth, I always used to talk about myself that way," she eventually whispered, her voice so thin it almost got carried away by the morning wind.

"I just called myself Aiko. Only Aiko. But everyone around me kept saying it was wrong and weird to talk like that. So, ever since I woke up here in Eteria, I have been trying my best to stop doing it. The problem is that even when I try to force myself to use regular words, the old way just sneaks out when I am not paying attention." A realization suddenly cleared away the remaining cobwebs of my massive hangover.

"So that explains the whole breakdown where you slap a polite honorific on your own name whenever your tongue twists into a knot and you cannot get your words out?" She gave a small, miserable nod, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Yes. It just happens without me meaning to whenever speaking becomes too hard. The moment panic takes over my head, I accidentally put the suffix on my own name out of pure fright." I gave a loud, intentional cough to clear my throat and reset the entire vibe of the balcony.

"Look, I am definitely not the biggest weeb on the planet, but even I know the basic rulebook here," I pointed out, leaning forward on my cold iron seat to give her a direct look.

"Isn't it considered a rookie mistake to slap a polite honorific on your own name? By trying to hide your third-person habit, aren't you accidentally giving off massive, high-and-mighty ego vibes to anyone listening?" The realization hit her like a bucket of icy water, and her jaw dropped in pure horror.

"You are completely right!" she cried out, her eyes widening to the size of saucer plates as her tiny hands flew up to cover her mouth.

"Aiko had no idea! I am an absolute blockhead! Everyone around us must think I am some sort of stuck-up egomaniac for praising myself like that! I was so consumed by basic social dread that I ended up executing the entire process backward this whole time!" I could not help but let out a hearty burst of laughter at the sheer innocence of her linguistic blunder.

The hilarious visual of this tiny, trembling ball of nerves accidentally projecting an aura of supreme dominance to every single passerby was just too much comedy to ignore. Her panic subsided just a fraction as my chuckles died down, but her big dark eyes locked onto mine with a fresh wave of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur-san..." she whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she wrung her hands together.

"You do not think Aiko is a total weirdo, do you?" I let out a soft sigh and shook my head at her silly fears.

"Listen here, Aiko-chan, you are an absolute oddball. I am a walking dumpster fire of quirks. This whole ragtag band of ours is a traveling circus packed with five certified, high-grade eccentric lunatics. Your unique brand of bizarre behavior is the exact golden ticket that makes you belong so perfectly in this chaotic family."