Pixels and Passions

The sun sank low over Mondstadt, its amber rays slanting through the narrow window of Galehaven Comics, casting a warm glow across the shop's hardwood floor and bathing its cluttered shelves in a golden sheen. The air hummed with life—a blend of aged paper, the faint floral steam of dandelion tea simmering behind Harlan Flint's counter, and the distant tang of grilled meat wafting from the alley outside. The shop's walls, lined with teetering stacks of colorful comics and adorned with crooked posters—a Yu-Gi-Oh dragon glaring from one corner, a Digimon trio peeling at the edges—vibrated with an energy that felt alive, a heartbeat of chaos pulsing through its cozy confines. Harlan leaned back in his chair, his dark jacket slung over the backrest, a half-empty teacup cradled in his hands as he watched his customers weave their stories into the shop's tapestry.

Sarah's departure had left a ripple of excitement—her glowing promise of golden egg fried rice lingered in the air, a culinary specter that teased their senses and sparked murmurs of anticipation. "What'll it taste like—sweeter than honey carrots?" Lumine wondered aloud, her golden hair catching the light as she flipped Cardcaptor Sakura's Magic, her wind dragon triumph fading beneath visions of radiant rice. Jean, engrossed in Chuunibyou Demo Koi ga Shitai!, glanced up, her blonde ponytail swaying as she mused, "A dish that glows—could it rival Lisa's brews?" Even Diluc, stern and silent with One Piece in hand, let his crimson gaze flicker, his Pyro soul intrigued by a flame born of flavor.

An hour slipped by, the shop's rhythm a symphony of rustling pages and soft banter, until Paimon broke the spell. She snapped Digimon: First Frontier shut with a triumphant huff, her starry cape fluttering as she floated up, her tiny hands clutching the book like a conquered foe. "Done!" she chirped, her voice a squeak of glee that cut through the quiet, drawing Wendy's eager grin from across the room. The bard, sprawled with Chuunibyou, set his lyre aside and leaned forward, his green cape pooling around him like a wind-tossed leaf. "So—how's it feel? The eight kids' adventure—hot-blooded, heart-wrenching, right?" he asked, his tone buzzing with a bard's zeal, his longing for a comic kindred spirit finally answered.

He'd craved this—someone to dissect Digimon's thrills, to trade quips about Tai's courage or Gabumon's loyalty. Alone, he'd rambled to uncomprehending ears, his passion met with blank stares—Jean too busy, Diluc too dour—leaving him a bard without an audience, his tales wilting like unstrummed strings. Now, with Paimon's eyes alight, he saw his chance, his excitement a gust that stirred the shop's stillness.

Paimon tilted her head, her starry eyes blinking as she hovered, confusion creasing her brow. "Eight kids' adventure? You mean Tai and his seven sidekicks?" she asked, her voice a mix of innocence and sass that made Wendy choke on his own grin. "Tai's the star—Badge of Courage, charging in, leading every fight! Sure, he stumbled early, but after that? Flawless—killed two Dark Masters solo!" She puffed out her chest, mimicking Tai's stance, her admiration for the goggle-headed hero shining through as she recalled his blazing battles—Greymon's roars, MetalGreymon's claws tearing through evil.

Wendy's jaw dropped, his bardic fervor faltering as he stared at her, dumbfounded. "Wait—what? It's not Tai and his pendants—it's eight kids, braving a wild world together, beating the darkness as a team!" he sputtered, his hands flailing as if to reshape her vision, his green eyes wide with disbelief. To him, Digimon was a tapestry—each child a thread, their badges weaving a saga of unity against chaos. "They're all vital—Tai's just the loudest!" Paimon smirked, floating closer, her tiny frame bristling with debate. "Oh, please—Koshiro's the brain, cracking codes for Tai, and Kari's the heart, boosting him at the clutch. The rest? Wallpaper—nice, but useless!"

"Useless?!" Wendy yelped, his voice cracking as he leapt to his feet, his cape swirling like a storm. "What about Matt? His Garurumon went Ultimate—toppled Puppetmon like a twig!" He jabbed a finger at her, his bardic pride wounded, his memory flashing to Matt's icy resolve, the howl of WereGarurumon echoing through the Digital World. Paimon crossed her arms, her smirk sharpening into a challenge. "Matt? Pfft—sure, if you count whining and running off every crisis! Team-wrecker supreme—Tai's always dragging him back. Friendship badge? More like 'drama king' badge!" Her voice rose, her tiny fists clenching as she relived Matt's tantrums, her disdain a spark that lit the room.

Wendy froze, his rebuttal dying as her words sank in—Matt's outbursts, his lone-wolf stunts, Tai's endless rescues. "She's… not wrong," he thought, a groan escaping as he slumped back, his lyre clattering beside him. "Never debating this sprite again—she's ruthless," he muttered, his bardic ego bruised as he retreated to Chuunibyou, seeking solace in Rikka's delusions. Paimon cackled, twirling in midair, her victory a burst of glee that warmed her from crown to toes. "Gotcha, bard! Nothing beats outsmarting a windbag—new favorite hobby!" she crowed, her starry eyes glinting with mischief as she savored the thrill of silencing an Archon.

Lumine glanced up, her grin wry as she reached out, ruffling Paimon's hair with a playful tug. "Alright, champ—give the god a break and grab your reward," she teased, her voice soft but firm, her wind dragon pride tempered by amusement at Paimon's fire. "Oh—right!" Paimon gasped, her triumph forgotten as she zipped to the counter, her cape a starry blur. "Boss! Where's my prize?" she demanded, hovering before Harlan, her tiny hands outstretched, her excitement a palpable buzz that made him chuckle.

Harlan set his teacup down, his hazel eyes twinkling as he reached out, pinching her cheek with a gentle squeeze. "Patience, little whirlwind—here it comes," he said, his tone warm but teasing as Paimon squirmed, her pout deepening. "Ugh—why's everyone gotta squish me? Ying, now you—meanies!" she grumbled, her voice muffled but her resolve unbroken, her reward too tantalizing to resist. The system pinged in Harlan's mind—[Customer Paimon completed Digimon: First Frontier—Reward: Handheld Game Console]. [Handheld Game Console: A classic device packed with games—Super Mario, Tetris, more—upgraded with flawless visuals, endless power, and size-adaptive design.]

"Perfect for her," Harlan mused, his grin widening as he pictured Paimon lost in pixelated worlds, her mascot charm paired with a toy to match. A beam of light sliced through the ceiling, bathing her in a radiant glow that drew gasps—Jean's book lowered, Diluc's stern gaze lifted, Wendy peeked from his defeat. The light faded, and a sleek device appeared in Paimon's hands—red and blue handles, a glowing screen, its size shrinking to fit her tiny grip like magic. "Boss—what's this?" she asked, tilting it curiously, her starry eyes narrowing as she poked its buttons, half-expecting it to sprout wings.

"It's a game console—tons of fun inside, little games to kill time," Harlan explained, his voice bright as he leaned forward, gesturing at its screen. "Games?" Paimon echoed, her brow furrowing as she turned it over, her mind racing—stone to chuck? Treasure to hoard? "Let me show you," Harlan said, holding out a hand. She hesitated, then handed it over, floating to his shoulder with a huff, her cape brushing his jacket as she peered down, eager but skeptical.

He powered it on, the screen flaring to life with a cheerful jingle, Super Mario's pixelated plumber bouncing across a blocky world. "See? You move him, jump, grab coins—hours of chaos," he said, his fingers deft on the controls as Mario leapt, a mushroom blooming with a beep. Paimon's jaw dropped, her starry eyes widening as she leaned closer, her breath catching. "He's tiny—but alive! And jumping! How's he fit in there?" she squeaked, her voice trembling with awe as she snatched it back, her tiny thumbs mashing buttons, Mario's hops a clumsy dance that made her giggle.

"It's all yours—play whenever, no limits," Harlan added, his grin softening as she dove in, her focus narrowing to the screen's glow. "Best. Reward. Ever!" she declared, her voice a triumphant shout as she floated back to Lumine, her game a new treasure to rival her camera. The shop hummed on—Wendy's chuckles, Jean's quiet focus, Diluc's deepening dive—but Paimon's pixelated joy added a new note, a spark of play in Galehaven's growing legend.

***

Support me on Patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/Nocturnal_Breeze