"Huh, what?" I wasn’t sure if I heard him wrong or if this was some kind of clumsy pickup line, so I wanted to confirm.

"Your eyes," he repeated, his tone detached. "I want to see your eyes."

This request was really strange. But whether it was something deep in those words, a sudden memory from the past, or just my curiosity about this odd mutt, I found myself wanting to know what kind of story leads a guy to ask a random stranger at a bar to show him their eyes.

I took off my goggles, placing them on the bar, and turned to face the mutt.

"Oh," he said softly, and I could sense a swirl of mixed emotions in that single syllable. But one thing was certain—he wasn’t surprised. Instead, he seemed to relax as if he had just confirmed something.

Before I could voice my question, the vibrations in the space began to change. Bit by bit, where there had been only emptiness, the waves started to reveal the mutt’s appearance. A complex web of geometric lines formed an unimaginably magnificent fractal structure, extending endlessly, pulsing with a strong yet steady rhythm.

I couldn’t make a sound; all my words caught in my throat, utterly overwhelmed by the sight. It was like… the embodiment of infinity itself. Not even the sun radiated such powerful waves. Was I really talking to a creature of flesh and blood?

But this perfectly unfolding symmetrical figure had something... missing, a subtle flaw, like a piece of it was absent, leaving the image forever incomplete. It was... an endless void, capable of swallowing everything in its path.

As I was pondering what all of this could mean, I felt... a knock. Not a physical one, but he... somehow, gently knocked... on the shell surrounding my soul? And with an odd politeness, as if asking for permission, he directly reached out to my consciousness.

Curiosity and awe mingled within me, my desire to know his story took the lead. I wanted to respond, to understand how he was doing all of this, but I didn’t know how. It felt like there was some boundary between us, but I could almost... reach out a little, just a little...

“Damn it!” the mutt cursed under his breath, shattering the somewhat mystical atmosphere. “Sorry, duty calls.” I could tell from the unique waveform of tachyon moving through space that he had just received some kind of communication. The sounds of him standing up and bumping into things were filled with agitation.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I waved him off, indicating I didn’t mind, as I put my goggles back on and took another sip of my tea. At the same time, he somehow masked his own waveform again, creating an empty void where he stood. I couldn’t see my own waves, but could I do the same thing? Though I couldn’t think of any real benefit to doing so.

“Uh,” his tone seemed a bit awkward as the bartender processed his credit card. “Nice to meet you, Jack the grey wolf.”

“You too,” I replied, my words tinged with an awkwardness that stood in stark contrast to the infinite power I had just witnessed, causing the corners of my mouth to curl up involuntarily. “José the mutt.” He responded with a light chuckle.

“I know we’ll meet again.” He made some gesture to say goodbye; I could feel the air shifting, and I noticed he took the bottle of Cognac with him.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I joked, wondering where his confidence came from with such a clumsy pick-up line. But that power… it really intrigued me. And just the fact that he could mask his own waveform made me certain he knew a lot of things I didn’t—maybe he could even answer the questions I’d only been able to guess at and fumble through.

After the mutt left, I finished my drink, contemplating whether to order another round. And then it suddenly hit me—we should have exchanged contact information. His ability to mask himself would make it impossible for me to find him just by following the waves. Wait, could he, like me, identify different individuals by the variations in their waveforms?

Just then, I noticed that the attention of the bar patrons suddenly shifted toward something, a mix of confusion and amusement spreading across their expressions. Of course, the bartender remained indifferent, as if nothing was worth his attention, continuing to polish the glasses.

The scent of musk from a deer species filled the air. I’ve never been fond of that smell, and I didn’t expect that the secretion from a muntjac’s suborbital gland would be so similar. Coupled with the sluggish atmosphere that clearly hadn’t fully shaken off the induced hibernation from long-distance space travel, I figured this must be Dr. Nara.

If I remember correctly, the smaller the animal, the slower the recovery. But the spaceport hotels should have had the necessary restoration facilities, so did he come here directly after disembarking? That’s a mistake usually made by first-time interstellar travelers. I recall my own experience when I went to the asteroid belt to study an artifact that a dragon refused to lend. During those days of just waking from hibernation, I deeply understood what it meant for my limbs to feel like they didn’t belong to me.

“Dr. London?” I hadn’t even stood up yet when the muntjac, dragging a suitcase that seemed too large for him, approached and bowed to greet me.

“Please, just call me Jack, Dr. Nara.” I returned the gesture, indicating the empty seat beside me. I’ve had to stress so often that I’m just a candidate that I’ve grown weary of correcting it.

“Then please, call me Tohru.” He awkwardly adjusted his chair, his slightly clumsy but endearing demeanor causing my lips to curl into a slight smile.

“How did you recognize me?” I asked while signaling the bartender for a refill.

“A pure black wolf isn’t something you see often,” Tohru said as he seemed to be operating something on his terminal. “Do you have any recommendations?” I assumed he was referring to drinks.

“Long Island Iced Tea is pretty good.” He was more interesting than I had anticipated. “Maybe you could give it a try.” I raised my glass, recently handed over by the bartender, and took a sip. Unexpectedly, a burst of dense dots and erratically bouncing sharp lines erupted around the muntjac—shock and… shyness? But in a positive way. These emotional reactions left me baffled.

Is today some kind of special day? Why is everyone reacting so strangely?

“Oh, by the way,” Tohru seemed to forcefully snap himself out of some emotion, shaking his head vigorously as he spoke. “Here’s my terminal’s secure connection certificate, if you’re okay with it.” My terminal vibrated lightly.

It took me a moment to grasp what he meant.

“Of course, no problem.” I fumbled with the panel near the temple of my goggles, found the power button, and pressed it, only to find it unresponsive. “Sorry, I haven’t used it in so long that I didn’t realize it’s out of battery. We’ll deal with it later.” I apologized, taking another sip to moisten my throat. Is it getting a bit warm in here?

“You don’t use neural interface…,” Tohru murmured, shock radiating from him like an explosion of jagged lines around him. “…Then how do you…?” I hadn’t even swallowed my drink before a fresh wave of embarrassment surged from him, overshadowing the other emotions. Oh, I’m not complain, but… isn’t this a bit too emotional? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble…” His tone was panicked, clearly unsure of what to do.

“Hey, it’s alright.” I smiled reassuringly, giving him a light pat on the shoulder, but the muntjac immediately tensed up, his whole body stiffening.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked for your permission first…” I quickly withdrew my hand. Oh man, could this get any more awkward? What kind of cultural misunderstanding fiasco is this? It must be that strange mutt from earlier, making me feel so unsettled that my reactions are a bit off. And why is it getting hotter?

“No, it’s my fault.” He hastily explained.

Just then, the bartender placed his drink on the bar, and we quietly sipped our respective beverages. The myriad of overlapping emotional waves around the muntjac made it difficult to interpret any clear information.

“I think we should stop endlessly apologizing for what we don’t know and start over.” He said in a calm, professional tone.

“Agreed.” I raised my glass to him in response.

“So…” He hesitated, looking at me with some uncertainty. “If I may be so bold, how do you… live without a neural interface?”

“Oh,” I laughed. “It’s not difficult at all, I just don’t need one. I’ve found that without it, I see things more clearly.” I tapped my goggles. “But for things like manuscripts and other flat media, I do need the terminal to read or some other form of assistance.”

To my explanation, Tohru nodded thoughtfully, taking another sip of his drink.

“So…” It seemed it was my turn to ask an awkward question. “Why do you turn your head away whenever I speak?”

“Huh?” The jagged lines around him flared up in sync with the surprise in his voice.

“Didn’t I mention that I can ‘see’ it?” I joked lightly, a hint of mockery in my tone as I finished off my iced tea.

“It’s your teeth…” Tohru said quietly, tracing circles on the rim of his glass, producing a soft, resonant hum. “Please don’t be bothered by my rude reaction; it’s a personal issue…” Before I could process what that meant, he hastily added, the emotional atmosphere around the muntjac becoming so saturated that I couldn’t decipher any further information.

I responded simply and asked the bartender for a refill. But we had just agreed to stop the endless apologies, so I racked my brain for a different topic.

“There aren’t that many carnivores in the Ares Federation, right?” I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth. Like most people, I tend to subconsciously ignore the big cats forced onto Pavor. I just hope this topic doesn’t lead us to an even more awkward place.

“Yeah,” Tohru responded rather directly. “So many different species walking side by side on the streets is really… quite shocking.” The atmosphere around the muntjac began to settle down. “On Ares, even the herbivores live according to their specific families, so I don’t often see faces outside of the deer family in my daily life.”

Just then, the bartender placed another glass in front of him, emitting a very distinct sour aroma. Did he just order a drink with a hand gesture? So this small muntjac is what they call… a bar aficionado?

“I guess I’m already used to it, so I don’t feel anything special.” Besides, from my perspective, everyone is made up of lines and waves, so it’s hard to really feel any difference. Although, there have indeed been more canines on the streets lately.

“This is real wood!” Tohru suddenly noticed the tabletop material, his voice filled with awe. “And the whole bar is made of it—so this is the first bar on the Lunar. I never imagined I’d see real wood.”

“I thought you picked this place on purpose.” Some sort of historical landmark, though I hadn’t paid much attention to it before because it was just a bar. What a shame.

“I just picked it based on recommendations; I didn’t want to be too far from the shuttle landing area.” He said. “I’ve never seen wood before. If only I could see an actual tree.” A smooth scraping sound came from the tabletop.

“We might have a chance to go to Gaia for work; you could see plenty of trees then.” I smiled, imagining what it feels like to really want to see something.

"Speaking of Gaia..." Tohru placed his glass back on the bar and quickly glanced around, lowering his voice. "Doesn't it bother any of you?" The shift in air currents and atmospheric patterns hinted that he was gesturing upwards.

"Uh... a ceiling leak risk?" I didn't quite understand what he meant.

"No, much higher," he continued, still looking as though he feared being overheard. "Like, satellite orbit height."

"Oh, you mean the Canine Empire's fleet docking at the Lunar spaceport?" I ventured a guess, and Tohru nodded in confirmation. "I must say, the situation is indeed a bit delicate right now..." Especially considering my own position, which makes my stance even more delicate, so I usually don't share my thoughts on the matter. "But I think everyone knew this was inevitable. The pro-Empire factions have been growing stronger over the past few years."

"But isn't the Lunar supposed to be a neutral free zone?" Tohru asked, with a hint of resentment in his voice.

"As the most humble students of history, we should understand this best," I said, raising my glass to invite him for a toast. "There are no eternal friends, and no eternal enemies." Tohru let out a faint hum and clinked his glass against mine, producing a crisp sound.

"Hopefully this 'eternal' lasts a bit longer..." he muttered, and I wasn't entirely sure if he was referring to the 'friends' or 'enemies' part.

"And at least it's the Empire’s Heartfleet," I said, thinking of far worse possibilities. "The Archduke of Germany is considered a more reasonable person." The brutal reputations of the Marquis of New York and the Marquis of Canberra are well-known, even on the Lunar. Though there are rumors that the new Archduke of Germany is somewhat... eccentric, I dare not imagine the implications if it were the Empire’s Claw or the Empire’s Fang, flagship names synonymous with overwhelming firepower, docked at the spaceport.

"For those who lost loved ones during the Inner Planet Wars, herbivores probably wouldn't agree with that sentiment. When the Empire’s Heart tore apart the Midway Fortress and its stationed fleet with just the drones it carried, it's hard to see it as 'reasonable'," Tohru said softly. "On the day the Storm Wolf was born, countless lives began their eternal drift in the void, their dying cries unheard by anyone." The muntjac sighed, gently rubbing the side of his glass. "So for us, knowing that the Empire’s Heart is docked at the Lunar spaceport feels worse than seeing the Empire’s Claw bombarding the Lunar with planet-destroying weapons."

"Oh..." I wasn't sure what to say. "I deeply regret your loss." There was no need to interpret the atmosphere to know where the sadness in his voice came from.

I often forget that there are people who have personally experienced every story, and those people are more than just stories. People often tell me that I care more about the past than the present, which makes the study of history itself seem like a backward pursuit. But I suppose Tohru doesn't know that the second scenario he imagined nearly came true. Remembering that made me unconsciously clench my fists.

"Back to the point, the Storm Wolf has been 'dead' for nearly ten years. There's no reason to be so fixated on a ship. And who knows, maybe the new Archduke of Germany is truly 'reasonable'." He added a sarcastic emphasis to a few key words. The Federation never believed that the Storm Wolf would die in an 'accident' and leaned more towards the idea that it was part of some complex conspiracy. "But isn't it strange that a society that prides itself on diversity and freedom is aligning itself with a dictatorial feudal empire?" Tohru downed the rest of his drink, and his atmosphere began to loosen.

"Exitus acta probat." For some reason, the oft-repeated teachings just slipped out of my mouth. "It basically means 'the outcome justifies the means'." Why am I recalling so many past scenes today? It seems unusually sentimental, not like my usual self. I pushed my glass forward, signaling the bartender for a refill.

"What did you just say?" Tohru's tone suddenly became sharp, and the lines around him turned into sharp-angled waveforms.

Although in the somewhat noisy bar no one would notice his raised voice, I was surprised at how drastically the muntjac's attitude had changed. I thought that even if Federation citizens were a bit sensitive about the Empire, it wouldn't be to this extent. There's a vulgar proverb on the Lunar about the Ares Federation, roughly saying that before interfering in another satellite's domestic affairs, they should sort out their own two first.

"It's kind of a family motto, I suppose," I explained. "Outcome-focused, no matter the means. As long as the final outcome adds up favorably, the process doesn't matter." It's actually more complex than that, but I didn't feel like getting into such detail with someone I wasn't that close to. Even though there's an urge within me to pour out all the emotions pent up inside, years of reflection and struggle prevent me from doing so. What’s going on with me today?

"No, I know what utilitarianism is," Tohru replied in a tone still a bit too sharp. "What did you just recite?" He paused before asking more clearly.

"Exitus acta probat?" I repeated. "It's Latin for 'the outcome justifies the means.' It was the first complete sentence my mother taught me after I learned to speak."

"Why would your mother know... how to pronounce Latin?" Tohru asked, his tone now much calmer.

"I come from a very old family," I shrugged, thinking that with a surname like 'Nara,' he should understand what I meant. "Some ancient knowledge has been passed down, retold within our family. Maybe that's why I chose this field of study." Liar! "Seeing the handwritten manuscripts in our family library would probably give those old-timers at the university a heart attack. Though, no one in the family can actually read those texts," I laughed, taking a big gulp of my drink, swallowing back what was about to spill from my mouth. Why did I let that slip out?

"I'm sure our collaboration will yield great results!" The high-frequency arcs radiating from Tohru indicated his excitement and anticipation. "Perhaps one day you'll let me see your collection?" The muntjac produced something that had an old scent to it, followed by a rustling sound, and... the sound of pages turning. Writing? So he’s old-fashioned like that.

"Of course, no problem." I realized after saying it that I hadn't fully considered what I had just agreed to, or the potential complications it might lead to. But I'll think of something to deflect the conversation. "Speaking of which, are you interested in checking out our restoration progress? The studio is just set up below the dormitory."

"I thought the bronze colossus was left at the excavation site in the Mare Tranquillitatis," he seemed very interested in the proposal, judging by the change in his tone.

"Oh, not the statue itself," I clarified with a wave of my hand. "The inscriptions. We believe it's part of a commemorative structure that accompanies the statue, like a set, translating into poetry."

"Sounds amazing!" Tohru said enthusiastically, his small frame now entirely engulfed by the dense atmosphere around him. "So, what are we waiting for?" I heard him place his glass back on the bar.

How interesting, it seems that small herbivores are more easily excitable—a detail I hadn't noticed before.

"Credit payment." I unlocked the terminal, reconnecting to the bar's network, and received a 'ding' as confirmation.

"If only the Lunar allowed people from other nations to use integrated terminals," Tohru complained, handing something to the bartender. "I hate having to carry so many cards around. It's the modern age, for crying out loud."

"At least you won't lose both your ID and credit credentials at once, right?" I joked, fully aware that this was an empty remark, and Tohru let out a displeased grunt.

As we left the bar, I noticed an awkward, hesitant atmosphere, but he still followed behind me without making any overt gesture. Was he thinking of opening the door for me?

I stifled a laugh and opened the door for both of us, stepping back into the bustling street.