And he wakes.

There's a girl leaning over him - a fairy girl, her colors all bled out from her skin and hair and eyes and even clothes. She's holding a crystal vial, full of swirling grey liquid, tilted so it won't spill. She's perhaps ten or eleven, a small twelve at the most.

And she's smiling.

"Hello!" she says, cheerfully.

-He's alive. He's uninjured. He can breathe, though breath brings the scent of blood to his nose, and grounds him from euphoria. 

And there's a girl, a fairy girl. She healed him. Why did she heal him? 

"Hello," he says, after a moment. And, stilted, "You... healed me." He breathes, the ease of it agonising, "Why?"

"You were hurt! And were going to die! And people really aren't people when they're dead, you know."

Yes, he is aware of that. Intimately. 

He should be dead. If he had survived on his own he would have hunted down the killers of his clan and likely died in the attempt but. 

She saved his life. A Heartless saved his life.

Heartless or not, he can't go off to do something so likely to kill him without repaying her for it. 

"...What do you want in return?" He asks. 

"Hm! I like people, and being around them, and talking to them, but I've been traveling and there hasn't been a lot of people around. Someone to talk to'd be nice!"

...Someone to follow her. Someone to stay at her side and be there when no one else is. That is one of the more common options in their traditions. He can do that. 

Knight to a fairy. His grandmother would be appalled. But what else is there for him? If he is harmed by her heartlessness, then isn't that only right?

"...Alright," he agrees. He sits up, slowly, waiting for her to get out of his way. His eyes scan their surroundings, flinching away from the body of San Ha-Ten. 

"...Were you going anywhere, when you found. This?" 

"I was going to the University in Bloodroot! To talk to a professor there, Star Meteor Sight, who isn't very good at written correspondence."

He looks towards his wagon, off to the right. His eyes avoid the ground. Practicality wins out over his automatic flinch at the idea of going through what's left of his family's possessions. Dying of starvation when his life belongs to someone else would be just as bad as dying of idiotic attempts at revenge. 

"May I put together some supplies before we go?" He requests. "...We can take anything left in the other wagons, as well, if you want to look. Though, there will be bodies." 

The stories aren't exactly clear on what bothers the Heartless, but if she was motivated to save him by a dislike of death... 

"Yeah! I dunno that I have enough food for you, too. I'll go look!"

Well, if she wants him, she can call for him. He nods.

The caravan is a mess. Many of the wagons are still burning, or are wrecks of bashed in planks and ripped cloth banners. Doors hang open on the few that are still standing, where they're still attached to the wagon at all. 

He stands, taking a slightly circuitous route to reach the broken doorway of his home. For no particular reason. 

They took a lot of the food - that was one of the primary reasons for the attack, aside from simple sadistic entertainment. There's enough to feed one for a week in a hidden cupboard in his wagon, consisting of unappetising hard biscuits, and it's possible there will be more in the other wagons. Probably not much appealing food, but he can deal with it, and presumably she has her own. 

Kan puts together a pack of clothes and a bedroll, and takes his father's heirloom sword from its place in the wall. Then he steps out of the wagon and goes looking for her. 

She can be found! She seems to have found some ribbons, herself, and is pouting at how they lose color whenever she goes to put them on, while entirely ignoring the bodies.

...He supposes that might be cute. In other circumstances. 

He glances at, and then quickly away from the nearby bodies. He should... start a pyre for them. If he has time. Once they have taken everything they can use. 

"I have finished packing," he says. "Are those all you want?"

"Yeah, they're pretty even without the colors, and I suppose I can tie them to non-me things."

He nods. He suspects he might soon find himself beribboned.

(His cousins would have-)

"I would like to set up a pyre for... the bodies. Or. At least set the caravan alight as we leave." 

"Sure, I guess. I might have some artifacts that can help, too."

Then he'll walk through the caravan, forcing himself to look at the faces of his kin. He wants to make sure- 

After counting them off he concludes that, yes, all of them are accounted for. The bandits didn't take any of them. 

He has to pause, then, to catch his breath and shove down the emotions growing in his chest. Is it better to be dead than whatever they would have done to captives? He doesn't know. A question that will go unanswered. 

He spends a moment containing himself. And then - a pyre. Or just freely burning the caravan. Does the fairy girl look impatient? 

She's wandered off a short distance to investigate something, but it seems to be more a result of a short attention span than any particular impatience.

Then he will start piling together wood from the broken wagons around and on top of the ones in the center of the clearing. 

 And then the bodies. He starts with the youngest, hoping to get the worst out of the way first. He places them in the middle of the pile, doing his best to keep siblings and close friends together. Keia with her sweetheart Ban, Narumi with the little ones she treated like siblings, Yu and Uda and Tekka. He pauses several times to steady himself, eyes leaking and hands shaking, swallowing down his grief until the job is done. 

Gods, but they were so young.

Next, adults and elders, placed around the children as a protective ring, close to their children or charges. He rearranges some clothing as he goes, breathless at the thought of what some had endured before death. There is no point to revenge, he reminds himself, they are beyond caring now.

This task is harder, since they're much heavier, and growing stiff. Still, it gets done, and then he moves on to his father. 

He stares down at the corpse, emotionally wrung out, practically drained. He feels nothing, or seems to, but there is a storm growing in his chest. Useful, for his purposes, but frightening - he pushes it down for a little longer, steadying his shaking, and lifts the man who's kindness killed them all, taking him to rest with their clan. 

Then he just stands there for a long moment, aching physically, and in his heart.

"...Are you okay?" the girl asks.

"...No," he admits. 

"I'm going to set it on fire now," he states. 

It's an effort of will - of wanting, setting a spark to the kindling he's been building in his chest, and then the pyre bursts into flames. 

He watches for a long moment, and then turns to the fairy. "My name is Kan Ha-Ten," he says, over the crackling of the fire.

"I'm September Morning Bell!" she says, considering him. "Why would you do something that makes you sad?"

He turns back to the pyre, searching for an answer. 

"...Because it would have made them happy, or at least at peace. And their happiness and peace are more important to me than my sadness." 

"Huh."

"I don't think fairies work like that."

He nods; this is consistent with the stories he has heard. 

He looks back at the pyre again, and then turns his back. The clearing is wide enough that no sparks are likely to reach the trees. He can leave it to burn down on its own. 

"...I'm ready to leave, now," he tells her. 

"Alright!" She glances around to get her bearings. "I've been just walking. Is that alright? I know some Heartful can go very quickly, but I didn't bring my artifact-bike."

"That's fine," he says, "I could also carry you, if you would rather go faster." He would love to be out of this area as quickly as he can move. 

"I'm trying not to get where I'm going too fast."

Hm. Alright. He lapses into silence as they walk, putting all his attention on the path before him. 

...Someone to talk to, she said. He makes himself focus.

".... You don't want to be there?" He asks.

"If I got there faster I'd have to get home faster, I think."

"Could you not just go somewhere else?" He asks. Given she's traveling through the wilderness on the own he can only assume she's capable. 

"My mom might replace me if I just left."

Ah. Fairies. How to reply?

"And this is worse than going back?" He asks. 

"I think so? I want to be my mom's heir."

He nods.

"What are you heir to?" He knows as little of fairy politics as most humans do. 

"The Court of Marigolds."

He blinks in surprise. 

...So he is knight to a fairy princess. Joy and rapture. Just like the stories. If she tears the heart from his chest he can't say he wasn't warned. 

"That does seem worth some inconvenience, I suppose," he agrees. 

"It usually is."

He goes fishing for another topic. He's running out of the mental energy for speaking, but he's going to stretch it as far as he can. 

"...What do you need to talk to this professor for?" 

It sounds more like a statement than a question, but at least he got it out. 

The girl seems perfectly capable of rambling for a while on the alignment of stars, and whether they could ever make a flying artifact, and how she wants to go to the moon, and she read a story about alien fairies and artifact ships flying between stars, but actually she's talking to the professor about funding, even if aliens would be super cool and September could talk to them -

She's very excitable, is this fairy. He listens, welcoming distraction from his thoughts for a few hours more. 

Eventually, night comes upon them. 

She... Does not really know any wilderness survival things whatsoever!

That's fine - he does.

He finds them a nice little alcove sheltered between some rocks and sets out his bedroll close to them, with room for her to put one beside it. 

Will she help if he offers directions? 

Very enthusiastically!

Then he directs her to gather thin, dry twigs from the ground near camp, along with a few small armfuls of leaves. Meanwhile, he clears away space for a fire, and finds some nice thick branches to break and debark. 

She asks a lot of questions about why this or why not that, but is a pretty efficient worker otherwise.

He will answer her questions. Leaves and twigs for kindling - as dry as possible, to allow the sparks from his flint to catch. Bark and then larger branches to feed it, and larger still to sit around it to ensure their dryness and feed it later on. 

Once the fire is going steadily, settles in front of it and pulls out some of his dry trail rations, and sets to eating, staring at the flames. 

She has her own food. It seems nicer, preserved to have more flavor, somehow, though it's possible the box she takes it out of is an artifact.

That's good - he wouldn't have wanted her to have to eat this, it's very bland and tough. 

After he finishes eating, he stays by the fire to fiddle with it until it burns low and even, so it'll stay lit longer without someone feeding it. 

"Do humans always eat stuff like that?" she asks.

He looks up in surprise at her question, having been getting somewhat mesmerised by the fire. "No," he says, "They make good travel rations, though, and most of the other food was gone." 

"Huh. I thought lotsa humans had magic powers that'd be good for food..."

He looks down at the remains of his biscuit, "Detail work like that is very difficult to get right." He states. "I have never had reason to practise it, and don't mind the flavour in any case." 

"Huh! Artifacts either work or they don't..."

He hums, "What artifacts do you use most often?" He asks, hoping to prompt another long stream of rambling. 

That works!

She seems to mostly use artifacts to keep food fresh, on a daily basis, though when she's in the city there's artifacts running the trains and some of the fancier doors.

Her ramble's interrupted only when she starts to yawn.

He listens carefully and, when she yawns, motions to the bedrolls, "Sleep?" He suggests. 

"Yeah, I think sleep's good."

He double-checks the state of the fire again and, satisfied with it, goes to climb into his bedroll. 

And she goes to sleep, pretty quickly.

He does not. He lies awake, for as long as he can manage, trying to think of nothing. 

He can't avoid sleep forever, however, and falls into an exhausted slumber in the small hours of the night. 

It is important to be kind to those in need," San Ha-Ten tells his son, "Kindness offered often means kindness returned, and the world could always use more kindness." 

The sound of the campfires crackling beneath his words grows, becoming the roar of a bonfire. Ban and Keia dance around it, arms linked, laughing. Yami of Clan Sar-Ha holds out a hand to draw him to dance as well, his eyes wicked in the flickering light. Kan takes it, and they whirl to the sound of the fire, his partner laughing merrily when they stumble and fall. 

Yami is gone when Kan stands, and the sound of the fire grows, the roar undercut by screams and shouting. San Ha-Ten is on his knees in front of him, held at the shoulders by two men, a sword at his throat.

"You should have warned me," he insists, "You know kindness is my weakness, but you knew, didn't you? You should have warned me. You've killed us, Kan." 

The roaring of the fire grows until it is all he can hear. The bandit slits his father's throat, and he falls, his eyes on Kan's, accusing. He is consumed by the flames, and they reach for Kan hungrily, their heat unbearable, but he doesn't pull away, he deserves this- 

He wakes with a start, slamming upright and scrambling away from the fire. He hits the rock face and huddles against it, curled with his face behind his knees, taking solace from its coolness. 

After a moment, he glances up, noting the disarray of his bedroll, and the disturbed ground near the campfire. He must have rolled closer in his sleep. He looks into the flames, and then curls his head back down behind his knees, shuddering. 

"Are you okay?" asks a very sleepy fairy.

He stills, his shaking stopping as soon as he hears her voice. He peers at her through the space between his knees.

"I'm fine," he insists after a moment, despite all evidence to the contrary. 

"You don't look fine."

He ducks further down, silent. 

"Just - dreams," he says, after a moment. "They're nothing. You can go back to sleep." 

"Dreams?"

...She doesn't know what dreams are? Do heartless not dream? The idea brings him out of his huddle, a bit, considering how to explain them. 

"...Experiences, which your mind has while you sleep. Memories, sometimes. Thoughts, ideas, strange situations, both good and bad." 

"Huh. We don't do that, I think. Sounds weird."

"...They can be nice, sometimes," he says, thinking of the middle sequence, and wondering where Yami's clan has wandered since he saw him last. 

"...Sorry, for waking you," he adds. 

"I don't want you unhappy, so it's okay to wake me if I could help," she says after some thought.

"Talking has helped, some," he admits after a moment, uncurling from his place against the rock, "But I didn't mean to bother you. You deserve to rest." 

"I don't think I'll go back to sleep," he says, "I'd rather not have more nightmares. I should check over my sword, anyways." 

"Okay! I think I've gotten enough sleep, too."

"If you're sure," he says. He grabs the sword from its place next to his bedroll, sitting crosslegged on top of it and placing the sword in his lap. He carefully pulls it out of its sheath, humming in dissatisfaction with the way it catches and sticks the slightest bit. His father used to tend it more regularly, but he'd been neglecting it - it makes sense that it needs oiling, and maybe sharpening as well. He grabs his swordcare supplies from his pack and settles down to set to work.

She watches curiously.

He tests the edge of the blade with a bit of cloth. Judging it duller than he'd like, he pulls out his stone, wetting it with a bit of oil, and then carefully runs the edge of the blade over it, making a soft scraping noise. And then he does it again. 

This continues for some time. 

She eventually decides that's boring and wanders off to play with some odd fairy toy.

Once he's satisfied, he carefully oils the blade, and then resheathes it, tying it to his belt. 

He looks around for her and, spotting her occupied, goes to settle in front of the fire and poke it back into wakefulness. He pulls out another ration and calls over to her, "Are you going to eat something?" 

"Yeah, probably should..." She gets more food out of her pack. This appears to be some kind of hot noodle soup. "Do you want some? Artifacts aren't safe for humans but the noodles should be fine..."

...He doesn't really want to risk it. His heart isn't the strongest, but at least its something. If he accidentally brushed the artifact... Well, he'd probably die, wouldn't he? And he can't, yet.

He shakes his head, "Thank you for the offer," he says, biting into his biscuit. 

"Okay. Though if you change your mind, offer'll still be open."

He nods. 

So they break their fast, and then he starts packing up, and tamping down the fire so they can go. 

She helps!

Then they will finish packing up and be on their way shortly. 

"How long a trip is this, exactly," he wonders as the make their way down the road. 

"Two more days there, then I'm staying for a week."

He wonders what they'll make of him. As well, "There are many artifacts in fairy cities, aren't there?" How is he going to avoid them?

"Huh. I know there are in Marigolds? But I think the university has less. It's supposed to be quiet magically so the observatory doesn't have any interference."

Well, that's better than the alternative. 

"I should not touch them," he says, "I don't know that I will recognise them on sight, however." 

"I can tell what's an artifact and what isn't, and maybe we can get you some thick gloves or something."

He nods, "Perhaps that will be enough." 

"Hopefully! And a grown-up might know more, too."

He's not exactly looking forward to meeting any adult fairies. But he won't let that interfere with his duty. 

Walking walking walking, chattering the whole way about fairies she knows and places she's been. She's met the fairy they're going to meet once, mostly in passing, but still has a pretty solid grasp of her personality.

What's this fairy like, then? So he has some idea of what they're walking into.

She's pretty flighty, and doesn't have any particular devotion to one part of her field of study, so she bounces between subjects a lot. This is pretty normal for fairies, but she does it more than usual. She's absent minded, and forgets stuff. She's smart, though, with a good memory for interesting stuff. She knows a lot about her field, and is the best in it.

"Which is... the study of stars?" He asks, guessing. 

"Yeah! And some related stuff."

He nods. 

After a moment, "You mentioned something about needing to talk to her about funding?" What for?

"She wants state funding, but has been having trouble getting more than a little because the Queen doesn't see the use of a lot of what she does. I do, though."

"For- flying ships?" He asks. 

"Mostly for the investigation stuff. Flying ships would take a lot of work I think?"

He has no idea how difficult it is to make artifacts, or artifact-driven items - only knows that broken hearts are involved. He nods. 

They can continue down the path, Kan offering awkward, careful little questions and comments as they go, and listening intently to her answers. 

And they eventually approach the observatory town!

It's huge to Kan Ha-Ten, dwarfing human villages - several individual buildings are far larger than the largest village he's ever seen. The town manages to be larger than the massive plains trade gatherings in sheer land area, and then it expands up, spiraling up a mountain to a massive dome at the top. The buildings are of stone, more rough hewn than magic can accomplish but smoother than human tools, and the roofs are black. Carefully tended gardens create natural breaks between neighborhoods, which seem to be oriented around common points.

Kan is - more than a little intimidated by this. Or overwhelmed, perhaps. He does his best not to show it. He was expecting... well, he's not sure. Something smaller, certainly. 

There must be many fairies in this town. 

"...About how many live here?" He asks. 

"Dunno. Not many? Maybe, like, eight thousand?"

Not many, she says. There are more people in this town than all of the traders together. 

"Ah," is all he says, mild as milk. 

"And where is the observatory?" He asks. "And a place we can aquire gloves," he adds.

"The observatory's that dome up there!" she says, pointing to the top. "And I'll find someone to ask about gloves."

Into the 'town', then, he supposes. No time like the present. 

Once they start encountering people: how do they react to the heartful human among them? Does he seem to be in any danger?

People seem wary of him, but a bit less so when they spot September leading him around. There's definitely some people keeping a close eye on him, though, and some questioning looks sent September's way. She cheerfully ignores those looks, and finds someone to ask for directions to a where they can buy gloves.

...He supposes he might be considered dangerous, to them. Heartless can't use magic - only artifacts. 

That's a change, from the cautionary tales he heard growing up. 

He also ignores the looks, once he's noticed them - aside from keeping enough attention to notice if someone looks likely to attack, for some reason. 

And eventually they will find gloves, he assumes.

Gloves! Very nice ones, even, thick and supple and soft. The proprietor has no solid idea what sets off heartbreak, but thinks that if September's friend (???) keeps the gloves on and doesn't set out to intentionally activate any artifacts he should be fine.

Well, that will be less difficult than he thought it might be. He slips the gloves on, quietly thanking the fairy shopkeeper for the advice.

He appreciates the quality - he expects he'll be wearing them most of the time from now on, given the amount of time he's likely to spend around artifacts.

"The observatory, next?" He asks September. 

"Sounds good, unless you wanna pick up something else?

He doesn't really know what there is to pick up - and he doesn't have anything to trade, either. The gloves are necessary, but he doesn't need anything else - except for food, perhaps. Though he has a few days left. 

"I don't think I need anything else, for now," he tells her.

"Alright!"

To the observatory it is! It's a decent hike, but not as long a walk as it took them to get there, and most people give them a bit of a berth. They're directed towards the professor's office, and September turns to Kan. "Do you wanna go meet her with me, too?" she asks.

"I would prefer to, yes," he agrees. He'd rather not be alone in a fairy city, for one thing, and for another he did swear to guard her. Not out loud, or in so many words, but. 

"Alright!"

And she leads the way into the observatory. Star Meteor Sight completely ignores Kan, and mostly ignores September, apparently more interested in some instrument - she tells both to touch absolutely nothing, but isn't willing to stop working in order to meet them outside of her work area. Still, she's willing to ramble on at length about the stars, and gets rather impassioned when asked to provide a justification for funding. (Apparently she's started on writing proposals but always misplaces them. They're around, somewhere, in the piles of paper.)

Kan is not going to touch anything in this observatory, anyway, even with gloves on. There's no sense in tempting fate. 

Her explanations are interesting, though. He listens, keeping any questions to himself. It seems unlikely she would answer anything he asked, anyway. (Keia liked stars, a stray thought reminds him. He ignores this, and the rush of feeling it brings is pushed back with the others.)

September eventually gets a bit tired of being rambled at, says she'll stop by later to look through the proposals and try to figure something out? And of course she and her guest need somewhere to stay for the night, first.

Star nods, turns, and apparently quickly forgets about them, and September leads Kan out. "Do you got any preferences for inns or something?" September asks Kan.

"Not really," he says. "I haven't stayed at enough to have formed any preferences." He used to bring his home almost everywhere he went, after all. 

"Somewhere quiet then?"

"That would be good," he agrees. 

She finds them a little out of the way bed and breakfast, with a quiet courtyard that their suite looks out on.

Kan stands by the window and looks out at the courtyard, feeling a little closed-in. It's ignorable, though. 

"How long will we be staying here?" He asks, glancing back at her.

"Hm. Maybe a week?"

"Alright." He pauses. He'll need more food - and he doesn't feel right making her pay for him everywhere.

"Do you know if there is any work I could do to trade for the local currency?" He asks.

"Dunno! If you're being my guard, though, you should be getting paid for that, and that's work."

She does make a good point. He nods. 

"So... Is there anything else you want to ask about? Or go buy? Maybe we should figure out how much I'm paying you..."

"I have everything I require," he says. "All I need is food, when we leave." He pauses, "...Another change of clothes might be a good idea," he admits. The ones he's wearing are clean enough, but his other ones were ash and blood-stained. He'd burned them at their camp the night before last. 

"As for payment..." he has no idea how that should work. He wasn't paid in coin to guard the clan - guarding was one of his duties, and in return for that and others he was part of it, sheltered by the caravan and fed and clothed by their resources. "I don't even know the worth of fairy currency. What are your mother's guards paid?" Assuming she has some. She must, right, being Queen of her court? 

"I can do clothes and food! And you should probably have a nice uniform-type-thing, anyways. My mom's guards are paid depending on how much training they need and how much experience they have and their seniority within the guard... You're new to guarding me, but you've got Heartful magic or at least look like you do, which's a special skill, and you're my most senior guard since you're my only, and since you don't have rotations you're kind of technically working overtime a lot? ...How much experience do you have?"

"I guarded the clan," he says quietly, "It was my official duty, for the past two years, since I came of age. And I do have Heartful magic, though my heart is not the strongest." 

"Hm... I think that's probably fifty five to sixty thousand bells a year? Let's call it sixty, since I don't have other guards taking shifts and I can do the math for how much that is a month, and then sometimes mom gives people bonuses for really good service around holidays. Mom also pays people more overall, though, but she's trying to buy people's loyalty, not just their service."

"Food's normally twenty to fifty bells a meal if you're eating out somewhere decent, or like two hundred a week if you're buying just nice stuff at a grocer's, and my clothes are expensive but I think since you're a guard your clothes would be more like - fifty to a hundred for a piece of clothing that's nice, maybe two or three hundred if it's something complicated or fit for a ball, and since you're my guard you should be wearing nice-ish stuff. Gloves are cheaper - those were twenty, and they're pretty nice worker's gloves."

...That seems like a lot. He does a quick calculation - he could eat at the most expensive rate she mentioned three times a day every day and still not use it up. 

"That... You have access to that amount?" He asks, a little overwhelmed, "Or would it be your mother paying me?" 

"I do! Mom probably could pay you but I'd have to talk her into it, but I get more than that for my allowance and I don't spend it normally."

"Alright," he agrees, still somewhat stunned. 

"What kind of uniform?" He asks. "I can wear colours," he adds, remembering her reaction to the ribbons, the day they'd met (and quickly pushing aside any other memories of it). 

"Oh! You should wear an orange uniform! Orange is a really nice color. It's cheery. Like autumn!"

He nods. He doesn't particularly care what the uniform looks like, though it should be nice enough to reflect well on her. 

"Is there somewhere in this town where we can get a uniform made?" 

"Probably! We can look around tomorrow."

He nods. What else... housing. Strange to have to think about that. 

"Do you usually stay at your mother's court? Or do you travel often?"

"I mostly travel, really. Mom's court is - I don't like it."

Hm. That could be cause for concern.

"What don't you like about it?" Is it dangerous for her there? He should learn what he can about potential threats. 

"Mom's stressful to be around, and a lot of the people ignore me because I'm annoying and not good at being formal."

He nods; her mother does sound stressful, yes.

He hasn't found her annoying, but perhaps people who are less quiet than him would have less tolerance for chattering. 

"I suppose we'll be staying at inns or camping most of the time, then." 

"Yeah! I like traveling, anyways."

He isn't sure if he would like staying in one place anyway, given how he never has for long. Not that it matters - he will go where she does. 

"Should we go looking for a meal?" He prompts her. It must be getting close to the next one. 

"Probably."

"Should we get food from this inn, or go somewhere else?" It's up to her, of course.

"How about just the inn for tonight."

Downstairs, then? What have they got for food, here, that isn't too expensive. Anything will do, though he should avoid any artifacts if there's any involved, just to be safe. 

The food here seems to be mostly assorted variations on 'bread with soup' or 'bread with chunky sauces'. Some of the soups are quite affordable. (September gets a rather large platter with samples of different sauces).

Adventurous of her. Caine will get one of the 'bread with soup' meals, and settle at a table to eat and watch her try all of them. 

She makes faces at a few sauces, seems to enjoy the vast majority of them, and starts panting and quaffing water after one.

Do they serve some kind of milk? Goats' milk can help when one eats spicy things, if he recalls correctly. 

Milk is acquirable! (Thanks for the suggestion.)

Of course. 

And eventually they will finish eating, and then it will perhaps be time to return to Star Meteor Sight?

"Nah, she's probably going to sleep right about now."

"Ah. I suppose a person who studies the night sky would keep odd hours." 

What shall they do, then? Uniforms? Would she like to sight-see? 

"Uniforms sounds fun! Should be something orange... But I don't know much about stuff you can bodyguard in."

"So long as it doesn't restrict my movements almost anything is fine." He might suggest avoiding too many bright colours, given bodyguards are supposed to be at least somewhat discrete, but it would be hard to make him fade into the background when many of the people she interacts with will be Heartless.

"Okay! I can do free movement stuff!"

Shall they find a tailor, then?

Sure!

There's a decent selection, but she finds one who doesn't use artifacts, billing himself as a bit old-fashioned.