“Prota. Prota.”

Quarta called the girl’s name over and over in an attempt to wake her up. He would’ve shaken her awake, but with her fear of physical touch, he felt that it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea.

“Mm?” Prota muttered, rubbing her eyes. She was initially weary until she realised her surroundings were completely different. Prota bolted upright, obviously concerned until she remembered the events of last night.

She looked at Quarta with a degree of suspicion. He seemed trustworthy enough. He hadn’t hurt her, taken advantage of her while she was sleeping, and had given her a warm shelter for the night and good food to eat. In fact, she’d gotten the first good rest in more than a year. She got off the couch with a yawn, stretching her limbs out, sore from having slept comfortably for so long. Despite everything, her face remained passive, which unintentionally made her look a lot cuter. Quarta looked at her bleary face, complete with tangled hair, and his heart skipped a beat.

It was too cute.

“You want anything? …uh… Water?” He’d been thinking of asking her if she wanted coffee or tea, but did a child drink stuff like that at such a young age?

He was already at the kettle, getting milk and sugar ready for himself. A whistle announced the water was boiling as he put a teabag in a white mug.

“...water?”

“Water it is,” Quarta nodded, filling up a cup. She accepted it with two hands and took a long drink.

“Thirsty?”

She nodded as he got her a refill. The room was silent for a bit, cozy as the sun shone through the window, giving the room a warm and cozy feeling.

“...why?”

Quarta was getting more used to Prota’s brief and quiet speech. She seemed to be opening up to him a little, which was achievement enough. Her face seemed to be locked into a permanent neutral position, incapable of smiling or frowning.

“If you’re asking why I took you in… we talked about this last night,” he said, taking a sip. “I don’t really know. It seems like a lot of work, taking care of a little kid, but… You seem special. You remind me of someone,” Quarta smiled, thinking back to another time, another life. “She was like a little sister to me. You look like her, somewhat.”

“Little… sister?”

Memories flashed through her mind. She had a sister. She’d forgotten about that. Memories of her family was more of a pain to remember than a comfort, and so she’d sealed away every thought of them until now.

“Hey, you good?”

Prota wiped her eyes. They’d started to tear up, but now wasn’t the time to cry. She had practiced steeling herself for the past year, and as a result, she knew how to hide her emotions.

Her constantly passive face was a result of that.

Prota stood up.

“Ok, I have to go open the bar. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry,” he said. “I’ll be up whenever it’s not busy, just be good, ok?”

Prota’s eyes went wide. What was he saying?

“... I can’t stay here…”

“Huh? Do you have to go somewhere?”

Prota looked to the side embarrassed. She wanted to stay, but…

Quarta quickly interpreted the situation and laughed. “What, did you think I was going to kick a child out after a single night? You can stay here as long as you want, Prota.”

The small girl looked up at him with shining eyes.

“...really?”

“Yeah. Call this home.”

Without another word, Quarta ran downstairs and flipped the sign to open, leaving Prota behind. The fire was still up, much lower now, down to embers, but Prota laid down on the soft carpet, feeling the softness of the fur between her toes, letting the warmth spill across her body.

Home. The first five years of her life had been spent in something she would call home. The sixth, a whole 17% of her life was spent hiding inside a shell she was unable to break out of.

But now, there was a small crack in that shell, and through it was a beam of light was shining through.

~~~

“Oi, Quarta!” a regular called out, walking over to the bar.

“Yeah?”

“I heard the demon girl is gone!” he said, clearly intoxicated. It was only three in the afternoon, but he was drunk already.

“Demon girl? …what demon girl?”

“The demon girl of the streets,” the man said theatrically. “It’s rumoured she call kill with a touch.”

Quarta’s eyes went wide.

“Kill with a touch…”

That would explain why she was so hesitant to allow him to touch her. She wasn’t concerned for herself, although that was definitely part of it. However, she was mainly concerned for Quarta. It disturbed him. Why did a child have to worry about who they could touch? A childhood should be filled with laughter and hugs, not fear, sadness and isolation…

“She’s gone, though. The corner she used to sleep in was reported empty, apparently. Maybe the royal guards finally captured her or something,” the man said, oblivious to Quarta’s thoughts.

“Ah. Good news, I guess,” the bartender said with an uneasy smile. Thankfully, the patron didn’t notice, left a hefty tip, and stumbled out the door.

“Oi, Harold,” Quarta called out, beckoning another regular patron over, one he was more comfortable with.

“Yeah, boss? Say, did I ever tell you you don’t look a day older since the day you started this bar?”

“No, but I’ve heard it before. Listen, that demon girl. Does anyone know if she’s actually a demon or not?”

“Well, no… but no magic user is strong enough to kill with a touch. Even the SSS ranks can’t do anything close to that, and as you know, they can use some pretty damn impressive magic.”

SSS rank mages, the most powerful people of all.

Magic worked in this world like many other worlds of similar sorts. Many people had something like a mana core, capable of manipulating the mana around them into some kind of element or another; fire, water, earth or wind, and variants such as lightning, ice, gravity, and more. Most people went through a process known as “awakening” at the age of seven or eight, after which they would go to an adventurer’s guild to be appraised. One could be D rank, C rank, B rank, A rank, or in rare scenarios, S rank. The SS and SSS ranks were reserved for those with certain special cores. SS rank was unmeasurable by the average appraisal orb but were measurable by special orbs that could absorb large amounts of mana. SSS ranks were those that simply could not be measured.

On top of this, there were “heroes”. It was rumoured that one had appeared recently. Quarta knew one had appeared recently.

“So, everyone just automatically assumed she’s a demon, huh…”

“What, you think maybe she’s not a demon? That’s interesting. Usually you don’t take a stand on these kinds of things.”

“Has anyone stopped to check? You know, if she’s a demon or not?”

“You think the strangest things sometimes, boss,” Harold chuckled. “Well, have a good one.”

Soon, the bar started clearing up. There were only a few patrons left, just chatting or wasting time.

“Oi, I’m gonna head up, everyone. No drinks for a few minutes!” Quarta called out. There were good natured grumbles and calls of acknowledgment as he went up the stairs.

“You doing ok?” he asked Prota, who seemed somewhat bored.

“Mm hm,” she nodded, rolling off her back into a sitting position.

“I have a question for you,” he said. “This might make you remember some bad things, so just tell me if you want to stop, ok?” He was being unusually kind.

Quarta’s character wasn’t typically that of one who cared about people. He was a logical person who focused on material results. Thus, it wasn’t like him to care about the feelings and emotions of others, especially when there was nothing to gain.

So why was he treating her like this? Was it because she reminded him of…

“Do you know that people die when you touch them?”

Prota nodded sadly.

“...do you know why?”

“...no,” she said quietly.

“...tch,” John muttered. He tried another route. “Have you ever been appraised?”

“Once,” she muttered. “By the chief.”

Quarta desperately wanted to know who “the chief” was, but asking that wouldn’t get him any answers that would matter.

“Do you know what you were appraised as?”

“A demon.”

That explained the rumours. Someone she knew must have seen her and spread the word. Quarta didn’t know what her past was, but…

“Prota, do me a favour.” He was about to ask her if she would be willing to go and get appraised, but that would probably yield the same result and cause an even greater mess. He could only think of one more thing to do.

“Can you hold my hand?”

Her eyes went wide, then she shook her head with an energy he hadn’t seen before.

“Ah… I see,” Quarta sighed. “Oh, well. It was worth a shot.”

“...Why?”

Zero popped out of Quarta’s body.

“He wants to try to help. Actually, though… I do know what your condition is.”

Prota stared at Zero. Quarta just sighed.

“Yeah, you only tell me that because…”

Zero shrugged. “[redacted]”

The noise that came out of his mouth was similar to that of the censor on TV when someone swears. There was a long, continuous beep that both Quarta and Prota could hear, and his mouth was blurred to prevent lip reading.

“Yeah.”

Prota looked at Quarta, demanding answers.

“Sorry. It’s a bit complicated. I promise I’ll tell you when we get the time.”

Prota looked at him, this time with an emotion Quarta couldn’t discern.

“...thank you…” she whispered quietly.

“...eh?”

“Thank you,” she said, a little bit louder. She looked like she wanted to give him a hug, but was afraid to.

John’s heart was about to burst. “Can I hug her? Please?”

“[redacted]”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” he grumbled. He looked down at the child.

“Well, we’ll deal with this, Prota,” John smiled. “I promise. Ok?”

~~~

A few months passed by with the schedule being the same. Quarta ran the bar, making money to pay for food and drink, while Prota hid upstairs and generally just did nothing. A week after Quarta had found Prota, he’d quickly realised that she was getting bored and went out and bought books for her. She was an intelligent child, and while she couldn’t go to school, she read anything Quarta brought, from fiction to books on how to train one’s mana core. The only problem with the mana core books was that they both found out she didn’t have one.

“That’s unlucky,” Quarta said. “...How do you use magic, anyways? Can you use magic?”

Prota shrugged, and it was pointless to ask Zero, who wouldn’t be able to say anything anyways.

“Well, back to the drawing board,” Quarta sighed.

Each day, however, was the same. Wake up, go down to the bar, tend the bar, go back up, sleep, repeat.

Finally, one day broke the monotony.

“Why don’t you come down and help me out?” Quarta said. “Isn’t it getting boring up there?”

“Hm?”

“You could, I don’t know, wash dishes or something.”

“Quarta, that’s child labour,” Zero pointed out. “That’s illegal.”

“No, I’m just saying if she’s bored, why doesn’t she come down? Besides, is child labour even a thing here?”

To the surprise of both of them, she agreed quite easily, although she was curious as to what Quarta meant by “child labour ‘here’”. With that, she was downstairs, shorter than the bar, but putting dishes into the sink whenever Quarta handed her a plate, bowl or cup.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as smoothly as Quarta had thought they would.

“Hey! It’s the demon child!”

There was a loud noise of scraping as everyone got up, weapons drawn in response to the cry. The mood had gone from friendly to dangerous in seconds.

The person who’d called out Prota was a large, muscular man who was clearly deeply intoxicated, and not a regular. In fact, many of the regulars who sat near the bar had noticed Prota but had chosen not to say anything out of respect for Quarta. As far as everyone was concerned, Quarta was a regular bartender. The regulars knew better. He was someone not to be messed with, someone who appeared normal on the outside but was a monster on the inside. These regulars exchanged uneasy glances as a mob started to gather around the bar.

“Hey, that girl does sort of look like the one in the rumors…”

“Nah, look how clean she is. Isn’t the girl in the rumors like a husk?”

“Anyone would be looking fine after living a few months with the bartender…”

“Kill her.”

“Kill her.”

“Kill her.”

Prota was trembling as she hid behind Quarta, who had taken a defensive position. The regulars were either trying to discourage the crowd or were leaving. His eyes, normally lifeless, were now blazing with anger.

The muscular one who’d gathered the mob lept over the counter, smashing glasses left and right, but felt himself grabbed and then facing the back wall, crashing into it with a loud thud. The mob quieted down as they all stared at Quarta. He’d somehow used his larger, heavier opponent’s momentum and used it against him, redirecting it in such a way that he’d been… knocked out?

One of the adventurers stepped forwards.

“Sir bartender. I don’t know what you’re doing with her, but… that is a threat right there. You need to hand her over.”

“Hand her over, my ass. Do you always prey on little kids?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Prota, run upstairs.”

The girl wasted no time in getting to the door, but took one last glance at Quarta.

“Go!” he exclaimed, waving her away. “Stay up there until I come to get you.” His tone of voice wasn’t to be argued with.

She went up, but not before Quarta saw the expression on her face.

It was fear. However, the fear wasn’t of the crowds. It was for John.

“Heh… with a face like that, how can I lose?”

“Whoop their asses, John,” Zero said in his mind, calling him by a long forgotten name for the first time in a long time.

“You betcha,” Quarta said.

He faced the mob. It was roughly twenty to one.

“Who’s first?”

~~~

Prota sat, huddled, waiting for the noises to stop. She could hear loud crashes, grunts, cries of pain and anger, and worried.

For the second time in her life, she had found someone to care for her. Prota was a girl who craved love but never got it, and received hatred from the people she wanted to bond with. John had ignored everything everyone else had seen and taken her in anyways. And now, he was going to be taken away from her.

She didn’t cry. She’d been through too much pain to cry out of sadness. But her heart ached. Maybe she should’ve told Quarta everything; the monster that took her sister, how she had accidentally killed her parents, how the village had essentially outcasted her… it was too late, now. There was no way he would win against a crowd that size. If what he had said was true, he was just a manaless bartender, and there were at least three adventurers in that crowd. It wouldn’t even be close.

Still, all she could do was wait. She considered going down to help, but… she couldn’t bear the awful feeling of taking someone’s life, taking their soul and watching them fall lifelessly. She’d never done so out of anger, only by mistake, but… maybe?

Soon, the noises quieted down. She could hear thumping noises as someone came up the stairs. She looked wildly around for somewhere to hide, but it was too late, anyways. The door opened.

“Q- Quarta?” Prota cried out uncharacteristically.

The familiar face was bruised and bloody, but grinning from ear to ear. A frown replaced the smile as he reacted to her words.

“What, did you think I’d lose? What did you take me for, a weakling?”

She just sat down, a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. She collapsed to her knees. Quarta rushed over, concerned that he’d done something to harm her.

“Hey, hey, whaoh, are you ok?”

“Thank… thank you…” she sobbed. “Thank you…”

Quarta looked at her with confusion, but shook his head and smiled. a

“You’re welcome.”