Chapter 9 Sunshine

Cassy navigated the bustling streets of Menthil, moving from the lower boroughs to the middle boroughs. As he crossed the street, a quaint little shop drew his attention: Amatherit Bakery. Its cozy exterior radiated warmth, and the irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread danced through the air, beckoning him inside.

He deftly sidestepped a bicycle-riding paperboy and stepped into the café. The moment he crossed the threshold, the rich scent of coffee and warm pastries enveloped him like a comforting embrace. The café was nearly full, but a small table near the hearth caught his eye. He settled into it, relishing the warmth of the fireplace that wrapped around him like a long-lost friend.

"Good morning! What'll ya have?" chirped the waitress, her cheerful smile brightening the room.

"Three cups of espresso and a Royale, please," he replied, his voice blending into the cozy hum of conversation as he took a moment to absorb the lively atmosphere around him.

A familiar figure at a nearby table snagged his attention—Bella.

Dressed in a black jumper and beige pants, she sat before an impressive mountain of sweets: chocolate cake, creamed strawberries, and a crepe crowned with berries and cream. Lost in her indulgence, she glanced up and met his gaze for a brief moment before looking away, only to do a double take, disbelief flashing in her eyes.

Without a second thought, Cassy stood and approached, plopping down across from her. Bella's expression shifted to one of surprise, her protective instincts kicking in as she instinctively pushed her sugary treasure slightly away.

"Good morning, Bella," he said, leaning forward with a teasing grin.

"Maple?" Bella blinked, confusion evident in her furrowed brow.

"Who else would it be?" he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Where's your date? Surely you don't plan on devouring all of this yourself, right? ... Right?"

Cassy studied the silent Bella, half in disbelief. She couldn't be serious.

Narrowing her eyes, she feigned a hurt expression. "What? Why can't I? Who are you to judge me, psychopath? Sometimes, in life, you just need to treat yourself, okay? How else can we survive in this dark world?" She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to munch on her crepe. "Hmph!"

Just then, the waitress arrived, placing Cassy's order of three steaming cups of black espresso and a ham-and-cheese croissant before him.

Bella sipped her tea, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, you know there are two hunters after you—a priest and a scribe."

"Is that so?" Cassy raised an eyebrow, his casual demeanor barely masking the tightness in his chest. "Thanks for the heads-up. They must not be thrilled that three of their agents have failed the mission."

"Be careful, Maple. They're not like me or the others. Nest and Purity grew up in the organization, trained to kill since youth. Don't underestimate those psychos; they could give you a run for your money."

Cassy gulped his coffee a little too quickly, a cough escaping him.

"Indeed concerning... Anyway, I didn't realize members of secret evil organizations led such calm lives. I guess it makes sense, then," he teased, lifting a cup to his lips, inhaling the rich aroma. If only caffeine could infuse some clarity into his day. "If you don't mind, I'm going to 'treat myself.'" He took a big bite of his croissant, the melted cheese perfectly mingling with the buttery pastry. "Ahhh, I'm in heaven!" he exclaimed, savoring the warmth that seeped down his throat. "I'm alive again!"

Bella smirked at his display of satisfaction. "Say, did you hit your head? You're so... normal today. What's going on? Did you get brain surgery?"

Cassy focused on his breakfast, deliberately ignoring her taunts, though a grin threatened to break through. He finished his food and drained his coffee, then pulled out eight copper pence, leaving it on the table. "Yes, well, I'm like this most of the time. And no! Anyway, some of us have better things to do than sit around indulging in pastries. 'Til we meet again, Bella!"

He pushed his chair back and stood, casting one last lingering glance at the fireplace before turning to leave.

"Good riddance! Don't come back!" Bella called after him, her voice mimicking an angry old woman scolding children.

Cassy chuckled to himself as he stepped outside, the warmth of the café still lingering in his mind. The crisp air invigorated him as he made his way through the bustling streets of Menthil, heading toward Anston Fine Cloths. The chilly wind nipped at him, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself as he navigated the lively market square. Merchants shouted their wares, their voices blending with laughter and the clinking of coins.

As he approached the tailor's shop, the elegant display in the window caught his eye. Tailored suits of various fabrics and colors hung neatly, each exuding a charm that only fine clothing could possess. Above the door, the sign read "Anston Fine Cloths" in ornate lettering, promising quality and sophistication.

Stepping inside, the warmth of the shop enveloped him like a comforting blanket. His gaze was immediately drawn to the salesman, a tall man clad in a vibrant red cashmere suit that seemed to glow with extravagance. Bloody hell, Cassy thought, that suit could blind a man!

"Good day! How can I assist you?" the salesman's smooth voice flowed over him like honey.

"Uh, I'm looking for a suit," Cassy replied, feeling a bit out of place amidst the opulence.

"Certainly! We have a wide selection." The salesman's eyes lit up as he gestured toward a row of suits. "This one, for example, is twelve pounds."

Cassy's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Twelve pounds? Do you have anything cheaper?"

The man's expression faltered, hurt flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it. "Of course! Right this way." He led Cassy to another section of the shop, maintaining his professional demeanor.

"Here we have a linen suit. It's not tailored, but it should fit you." The salesman presented a simple black suit, but Cassy frowned at it.

Not very warm, he mused, shivering at the thought of wearing such thin fabric in this cold weather.

Noticing his hesitation, the salesman quickly added, "Ah, but next to it—this one here is wool. We should have one in the back that is your size. It's very popular around this time of year." He pointed to a charcoal suit that looked both stylish and cozy.

Cassy examined the suit closely, running his fingers over the fabric. This one looks warm, he thought, nodding appreciatively. "How much do these run for?" he inquired.

The salesman looked him over, gauging his reaction. "Four pounds as is, or six pounds if you'd like lifetime repair services."

Six pounds? Bloody hell, I could eat for months on that! Cassy pondered, calculating the cost of his next meal. However, the warmth and durability of the wool suit were hard to resist.

"Alright, I'll take the wool suit, please," he decided, satisfaction swelling within him.

"Excellent choice!" The salesman beamed, taking the suit and preparing it for him.

Reaching into his pocket to pay, Cassy pulled out two crisp five-pound bills that Captain had given him the night before. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he realized how poorly he was dressed compared to the lavish surroundings.

"Ah, is there somewhere I can change?" he asked, his cheeks slightly flushed.

The salesman chuckled, clearly amused. "Of course! Right this way." He led Cassy to a small fitting room at the back of the shop.

Once inside, Cassy quickly changed into the charcoal suit. He looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. His medium-length auburn hair fell like autumn leaves, framing his striking silver eyes. His strong jawline and subtly defined nose were now complemented by the sharp lines of the sports jacket and the warmth of the flocked coat.

"Well, I look absolutely dashing, if I don't say so myself!" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. "Captain will certainly be pleased."

With that thought, excitement bubbled within him. The day ahead seemed full of possibilities, and for the first time in a while, things felt like they were looking up.

Shortly thereafter, Cassy left the shop, stepping back into the brisk air, feeling a mix of exhilaration and relief.

The suit was a step toward a more refined version of himself—one that he hoped would help him navigate the complexities of life in Menthil. Two hunters, huh? A priest and a scribe... a dangerous combination. If they stick together, the scribe could unleash hell from behind the priest's protective barrier. Dogshit! Why can't these people just leave me alone?

Standing on the curb, he did something he never thought he would—he waved down a carriage. It was time for his official debut at Blackstone Solutions!