I fixed my gaze on Kuroko from across the table, attempting to comprehend everything she had imparted to me thus far. My appetite had evaporated swiftly, mainly once my mind started to mull over the implications of "Kitty" and "Flopsy." I wouldn't have been taken aback if I had encountered a nekomimi or a usagimimi with these names, which, when you considered it, sounded somewhat prejudiced because the sole purpose those names served was to emphasize their dissimilarities to humans.

I'm not saying Kuroko was being discriminatory when she was a young child. She probably referred to the liminals as "cute" without realizing the implications. Similarly, Papi had named Suu in the canon for the sheer joy of it and not to point out her differences. The problem, however, was that Kuroko's mother had encouraged this and never mentioned the liminals' real names. This made me ponder why most liminals had words that were puns on their species. Was this a tradition that Enkidu had started, or something going even further back?

Miia the Lamia, Papi the Harpy, Centorea the Centaur, and Rachnera Arachnera the Arachne - these names are particularly outlandish and absurd and only scratch the surface of the issue. Why would Liminals accept such names when they've been used by a group responsible for oppressing so many of their own? Is it similar to the mass immigration to America in the early 1900s, where immigrants were given last names based on their previous occupations so they could register as citizens? It's a situation that needs to be examined further.

Going back to Kuroko's maids, it seemed clear that once Katsumi had caught wind of her daughter's growing affection for them, they were disposed of somehow. Although this was not the worst thing she had done, the thought of what happened to them still made me feel nauseous. Whatever may have happened to them, I could only hope that they had the opportunity to find some peace before they passed.

I was pretty captivated by the particulars of Katsumi's "family": Jamie, Conrad, Titan, and Beholder, otherwise known as the Elite Four. I was particularly taken aback by the fact that two were liminals. Could it be that Enkidu was not solely based on the irrational fear of liminals? It seemed difficult to believe that they had managed to capture and murder so many liminals without the assistance of other liminals, so perhaps there was a more intricate story behind this situation.

I should be grateful that Enkidu had gone, as the future was sure to be turbulent, but at least I could face it with a more positive outlook.

"So, I'm inquisitive to know what your mother was thinking," I said, prompting Kuroko to look up from her wine glass with an inquisitive expression. "You were raised mostly by liminals, so why did she think that having you witness one being killed would lead you to the conclusion that they should be treated like that?"

Kuroko didn't respond at first, instead cracking her neck. Her cheeks were starting to flush, which, accompanied by her luxurious black hair and form-fitting red dress, made her a little mesmerizing to watch. If it were another time, another place, maybe...

That was probably just my thing for older women kicking in, even if she was only barely three years older than me.

"None of my servants were ever lizardfolk," she eventually replied, "Especially nothing so... distasteful as a gbahali. She had likely assumed that I would be scared of what most would consider monstrous and knew that the hunt would become violent. The gbahali had been separated from its kin after a raid for some time and was malnourished when Enkidu tracked him down. It's not surprising that he had gone... feral." Her mouth twisted in disgust.

I sighed and scratched the back of my neck. "It didn't sound like you were terrified, though."

"Of course not," Kuroko said with a pointed look, her lips curling into a sardonic smile as she raised the wine glass to her lips. "I've always had a high tolerance for the strange and the unknown. I thrive on learning more, embracing even the most unpleasant and terrible details. After all," she smirked, "I am my mother's daughter."

"Even at seven years old?"

"Ah," Kuroko sighed after taking a swig, "More than most that age, at any rate. I kept asking Conrad why the gbahali had to die, and his answer never changed: monsters had to be slain."

"And did Titan and Beholder not fall under the category of 'monster'?" I asked.

"Those two were quite complex," Kuroko stated, "I was never given the specifics, but something happened to the five inner circle members when they were young that forged a deep connection between them. They showed no remorse when it came to mistreating other liminals, and they weren't the only ones that backed Enkidu."

"Hm," I grunted, poking at my cooling pasta with a fork. None of it sat right with me, though that was probably for the best. And now that I was thinking of Beholder, I remembered what she'd said about Conrad's comments in the Urals. "So... that monoeye girl you saved. Manako?"

Kuroko nodded. "Bingo. That wasn't her name then; however, she was so secretive during those days that she would not reveal it to me. I devised something to call her, and I eventually chose 'Manako.' The poor girl seemed to accept it, and the name has remained with her ever since."

"And she was your designated servant or something?"

Kuroko quickly clarified with a furrowed brow, "Or something. I'd like to believe we were friends from the start, but that would be too selfish of me. She was too afraid to speak to me for a long time, but eventually...I guess you could say we became friends." Her expression lightened as she said this.

It was no surprise that Manako never seemed to be the most sociable type; her fear of looking people in the eye now made more sense, given that an international criminal organization had abducted her. It was little wonder that her self-esteem had suffered so much, especially if the people at Enkidu had surrounded her for a long time.

"She traveled with you after that, then?" I asked.

"Every day, right up to Enkidu's collapse," Kuroko replied with a nod, "We had our share of... adventures, as much as we could, anyway. They did stop bringing us on as many hunts, though."

"They probably realized bringing kids to that kind of shit was a bit ridiculous," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Kids can be more resilient than you might think," Kuroko admonished, "Especially when they have supportive people around them to help them mature. I was lucky not to witness the worst of Enkidu's actions; the hunts were already becoming less frequent by the time I was born."

"Because governments were keeping a better eye out for them, I'm guessing?"

"That, and most liminal communities had started to move to the Far Side once humans were getting a bit too numerous," Kuroko answered, "Not all could leap, though, for one reason or another. Of course, I wasn't told anything about the Far Side until the end."

"The leap? What do you mean?"

She lectured, "Accessing the Far Side can be extremely difficult, even at the best of times. You'd need something like a medium to open a portal or a site of spiritual significance that can act as a gate. Enkidu had gone through a lot of trouble to learn this and vigilantly monitored the sites they could access."

I furrowed my brow as I stroked my chin, pondering the implications of what I had just heard. It seemed that reaching the Far Side was not an easy task, which explained why liminals had remained hidden from the public for so long. It was only five years ago that the truth had been revealed.

Kuroko exhaled heavily, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I could tell you all about my time with Enkidu, and trust me; there were plenty of exciting and interesting experiences. But it would take all night to tell, and I think the story of how I met Manako is a great way to end this conversation, as it answers your question."

After contemplating what she said, I eventually spoke, "So that's when you made the decision to support the liminals, or at least do all that you can, right?"

Kuroko smiled softly, "It wasn't anything as dramatic as starting a revolution, but I owe Manako and even 'Kael' a lot for helping me to find that realization. Especially Mana-chan. I needed someone I could be honest with, even if our friendship were a bit one-sided at first."

I nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing that friendship was something I cherished more than almost anything else. People often mocked "the power of friendship," and while I could understand why they did if a show got too cheesy with it, I couldn't picture living without the friends I'd made - both in this world and the previous one. I'd heard somewhere that true friends were your chosen family, and that idea has resonated with me ever since.

It was heartening to hear that Kuroko and Manako had a friend through all that insanity.

We stayed in a state of silent contemplation for a while, our food now cold and unappetizing. I didn't know how to respond to everything she had told me. It was far more than I ever could have expected when I arrived. At that time, my only thought was about how to survive the harem slapstick and avoid getting tangled up in any clichéd romantic drama. But now I was learning about the darker side of all that I had come to know.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to me. After all, my home dimension was full of sad and disheartening things like Enkidu and even worse things. So why should this new world be any different? If anything, the presence of the liminals increased the chances that this world could have been a total disaster. But it wasn't. Surprisingly, even though most liminals could easily overpower and destroy any human, they chose not to because, surprisingly, they were genuinely good people!

Yeah, there was still plenty of nonsense that needed to be addressed, like the Cultural Exchange's ineptitude and other organizations like Enkidu surely snooping around in some dingy slum. But it would be pointless to wallow in that. Accepting the issue was the first step, and then doing something to rectify it. I was sure I could take care of the former with the help of the woman standing before me.

"I'd just like to say," I started, raising a hand and drawing Kuroko's attention, "Fuck Enkidu. Kick it in the dick, repeatedly, so hard that anyone who ever worked for them feels their crotches twitch at the thought of the name."

She fixed me with a gaze for a few seconds before erupting into a fit of hearty laughter. Her joy quickly became contagious, and I was laughing alongside her. We spent a few moments in that state, two slightly inebriated people chuckling at a nonsensical joke.

Sometimes, though, you needed something like that.

"You have..." Kuroko breathed when she'd calmed down, "Quite the way with words, as usual, Aki."

"Why thank you," I responded, wiping away a tear from my eye, "I feel like that's some of my best material yet."

Kuroko snorted. "If that's your best material, then I fear for whoever had to suffer from your comedy routine back home."

I laughed again at that. Mainly because 'suffering' was a good way of putting it.

"Shall we blow this popsicle stand?" I asked her.

Kuroko slid out of her seat and stood up, her bombshell figure drawing my attention. She offered me her hand with a smile and said, "If that means 'Do you want to go?', then yes. Thank you, Aki, for listening and being honest with me. I appreciate it."

"Ditto," I replied as I took her hand and helped her stand up. "If there is anything else you need to know about the future, please don't hesitate to ask me. I don't know how much help I can be, but I will certainly try my best to help you out."

"The same applies if you want to learn more about Enkidu," Kuroko replied. The two of us left, having paid our bills earlier. "Unfortunately, I have much to discuss regarding them."

"Don't worry about it," I said reassuringly. Although curious, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by pushing her too hard. I stepped ahead of her and offered my arm. "For now, Let's show them who we are - two badasses determined to impact the Cultural Exchange positively."

Kuroko snickered but took it. "My, my, won't Bina-chan get jealous if she hears of this?" she responded coyly.

"Hey, we're not dating," I warned her, "So don't get any funny ideas, you hear? I won't read into it if you don't."

"Mm," Kuroko hummed, "If you say so, Big Shot Counselor-san."

I snorted. "Shut up, Lazy Coordinator-san," I warmly shot back as I walked outside into the warm summer night air, arm-in-arm with my friend.

To be continued...