The sound of the shattering ramen cup seemed to echo in the sudden silence. A fine dusting of powdered broth and tiny noodle fragments settled on Elara's gleaming silver breastplate. She stared down at the crumpled, destroyed container in her hands, her expression one of utter, profound shock. It was the look of a master swordsman who had just been disarmed by a teaspoon.
Kaito stared, his jaw slack. "You... you crushed it."
"I... I was attempting to breach its defensive shell," Elara stammered, a faint blush of humiliation rising on her cheeks. She looked from the mess in her hands to the dusting of seasoning on her armor, her noble composure thoroughly cracked. "It is... surprisingly fragile."
"That's because it's not a fortress, it's lunch!" Kaito groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair. "And now it's everywhere." The sharp, salty scent of artificial chicken filled the room.
A sudden, loud BANG BANG BANG on the door made them both jump.
"TANAKA! I'm not kidding! What the hell was that crunching noise? It sounds like you're building furniture in there! One more sound and I'm reporting you!" Mr. Henderson's voice was a gravelly threat through the thin door.
Elara's head snapped up, her warrior instincts overriding her shame. Her eyes narrowed at the door, her body tensing for a fight. "The sentry returns. Shall we engage?"
"NO!" Kaito whisper shouted, his heart leaping into his throat. "We shall NOT engage! We shall be... very, very quiet. Like mice. You know, tiny, squeaky animals that don't get people evicted?" He made a frantic, patting motion with his hands, urging her to calm down.
She looked unconvinced. "A knight does not hide like a vermin."
"A knight who doesn't want to be hunted by the 'authorities' with their 'taser devices' does!" he hissed back. He listened intently until he heard Mr. Henderson's grumbling retreat and the slam of a door down the hall. Only then did he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping in relief.
The immediate crisis was averted, but a new one was staring at him, covered in ramen dust. Elara was still holding the crushed cup, looking lost and, for the first time, genuinely vulnerable. The mighty Maiden of the Sacred Blade, brought low by a cup noodle.
"Okay," Kaito said, his voice weary. "New plan. Damage control." He grabbed his small trash bin and a roll of paper towels. "First, we clean this up. Second... we need to get you out of that armor."
Elara's head jerked up, her eyes wide with alarm. She took a defensive step back, clutching the top of her breastplate. "Absolutely not! A knight's armor is her second skin! To disrobe in the lair of a potential warlock is "
"Is necessary if you don't want to draw every single person's attention on the entire planet!" Kaito interrupted, gesturing at her full plate mail. "You look like you're on your way to a very expensive Renaissance Faire! People will stare. They'll take pictures. They'll call the news. Is that what you want?"
The concept of "the news" clearly baffled her, but the threat of being the center of attention from an entire world seemed to get through. She looked down at her magnificent, impractical armor, then at Kaito's simple t shirt and pajama pants.
"A... a disguise?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes! A disguise. So you look... normal. Like a regular person." He looked her up and down, a new wave of despair washing over him. "Which is going to be impossible because you look like you were carved by angels, but we have to try."
He rummaged through his cramped closet, pulling out his largest, plain grey hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. They were old and a little faded, but they were clean. He tossed them onto the bed.
"Here. Put these on."
Elara approached the bed as if the clothes were a strange, new type of beast. She picked up the hoodie, feeling the soft cotton between her fingers. "This fabric... it is so plain. Where are the enchantments of fortification? The sigils of warding?"
"It's a hoodie! Its only enchantment is 'warmth' and sometimes 'not getting arrested for indecent exposure'." He pointed to the small, attached bathroom. "You can change in there. And... try to figure it out. The pants have a string. You pull it."
She gave him a deeply suspicious look but took the clothes and swept into the bathroom, closing the door with a firm click.
Kaito sank onto his bed, listening to the faint, metallic clinks and confused muttering coming from the bathroom. He was now harboring a interdimensional, amnesiac fantasy heroine who couldn't open food containers and thought hoodies were magical. His finance midterm next week felt like a problem from a different, blissfully simple lifetime.
The bathroom door creaked open.
Elara emerged. The transformation was... jarring.
His grey hoodie was comically large on her, swallowing her frame and making her look oddly small. The sleeves covered her hands entirely. The sweatpants were too long, pooling around her ankles. She had managed to get everything on, but the hood was half up, half down, casting a shadow over her confused, beautiful face. She looked less like a disguised warrior and more like a lost, ethereal street urchin.
She held up her hands, the long sleeves flopping down. "I am... ensconced in cloth. Is this the camouflage of your people?"
Kaito could only stare, a strange mix of pity, despair, and undeniable affection bubbling in his chest.
His quiet, lonely college life wasn't just over. It had been replaced by something infinitely more complicated, terrifying, and strangely... bright.
"Yeah," he said, his voice soft with exhaustion. "That's the camouflage. Welcome to Earth."