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“Would you like to see my new prototype?” Himeko said, smiling, coffee mug held just under her lips.
Himeko made what was possibly the worst coffee in the known universe, but right now, Welt could be fooled that it would suit the palate of a gourmet. “I would love to,” he said. “I’m always interested to see whatever you’re working on.”
That was how he ended up in front of Himeko’s bedroom door. The moment she slid it open for them, the scent of coffee hit them like a wall. Thankfully, her coffee smelled better than it tasted.
Himeko stepped into the room, gesturing for Welt to follow. “You might want to watch your step. It’s a bit of a mess in here.”
Welt chuckled. I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” he said. And then he saw her room.
There were little pieces of machinery everywhere—strewn across the floor, lined up on the shelves, on the desk, and there was even one on the bed. The bed was messily made, and there was a dress thrown over her desk chair. The closet was half-open, revealing clothes that were hung carefully but not organized with any rhyme or reason.
Himeko chattered away as she made her way across the room, dodging obstacles on the floor. “Of course, I never plan to mass-produce anything, and I have all the materials I need, so ‘prototype’ is a bit of a misnomer. It’s essentially a way to say that I’m not set on the final design.”
She noticed Welt’s silence and turned around. He was still standing in the doorway. Himeko smiled. “Sorry. Is this too much?”
“No, it’s only...” Welt trailed off.
“Not what you expected, is it? Surely my room isn’t that disappointing.”
“It’s not disappointing in the least. I only expected you to be more...”
“Organized?”
Welt laughed quietly, feeling like he’d been caught in a lie. “I suppose that sums it up. I really don’t mind.”
Himeko’s eyes turned warmer. “This is just how I work. It helps to be able to see everything all at once. That said, I also just don’t have enough space.”
“Why don’t you take an extra room for your mechanical work? No one on the Express would mind.”
Himeko laughed. “You’d think that would solve the issue, but trust me. The messes I make are like a gas; they fill the container they’re in. It’s better to keep everything contained in here.”
Welt chuckled. “I understand.” He went into the room and made his way through the mess, careful not to move anything out of its place.
Himeko picked up the machine that was on her bed and gestured for Welt to sit there instead. She gave him a demo of the robot, and she even grabbed the schematics and sat next to him, pointing out any interesting details.
When she seemed about finished, Welt said, “This is all very interesting, but why are you showing me all of this? Usually I just get a quick demo.”
Himeko lifted her eyes from the notebook resting across their laps to look at him. Her eyes twinkled, like she was planning an innocent scheme.
“You’re very tight-lipped about your powers, but I’ve known you for quite a while, Welt. Your capabilities go far beyond a simple Pathstrider.”
Welt fought a smile. It was a sign of trust between them that they could be so nonchalant about each other’s secrets. Himeko was hiding many things from him, and he from her—the true extent of his powers among them. However, neither of them tried to pry. They trusted each other enough to not need everything out in the open.
Welt said, “What did you want me to do?”
“I’ve explained how the prototype works and showed you the schematics. Would you be able to create a copy of the prototype?”
Welt adjusted his glasses, looking over the schematics with a new fervor. “I believe I could. You’ve given me even more information than I could need. Can I have a few minutes?”
Himeko sat back a little. “Take all the time you want.”
After a bit of thinking, Welt drew upon the Core of Reason and, almost instantly, an exact copy of Himeko’s prototype appeared in his hands.
“Well, that’s not fair,” Himeko said, her voice filled with humor.
Welt enjoyed impressing her. “Would you like to test it out?”
“I will in a moment. Just so you know, if your version works, I might ask you to create more prototypes for me in the future.”
Welt gazed at her face—the simultaneous frustration and awe, the ever-present fire in her eyes, even her care for him—and had a hard time looking away.
The solution was easy. He simply wouldn’t look away.
“I would be happy to. Ask me any time.” He didn’t mean just for help with robots. He meant for anything.
By the look in Himeko’s eyes, she understood.