The inn's dining hall was simple, yet cozy. The space had a rustic charm, with dark wooden furniture, tables worn by time, and a large fireplace at the back of the room. The flames danced lazily, casting warm shadows on the walls and crackling softly as the logs burned. The scent in the air was a comforting mix of firewood, freshly cooked food, and something slightly floral—perhaps from the carefully washed curtains.
Edward entered quietly, his steps soft against the wooden floor. There weren't many guests around. Besides him, only a rugged-looking fisherman wearing a weathered leather jacket and a beat-up cap shared a table with a massive Swampert, who calmly ate a bowl of seafood. At another corner of the hall, a spiky-haired blond boy was devouring a plate of curry rice, completely absorbed in his meal.
The buffet was generous. There were dishes Edward recognized—lasagna, spaghetti, potato salad, and rice—but beside them were bizarre-looking foods: brightly colored pasta in odd shapes, alien-looking fruits, and steaming dumplings with unpronounceable names. What troubled him wasn't the taste—it was the origin. Could it be Pokémon meat? The thought alone made his stomach churn.
He ended up assembling a large but simple plate: grilled vegetables, rice, and a soft garlic-scented bread. He avoided anything that looked like meat. Eating meat had already made him uneasy on Earth—in a world where Pokémon and people lived so closely, the idea felt almost taboo—or worse, criminal.
The food, however, was delicious. So good, in fact, that for a few minutes, Edward forgot the world around him. He chewed slowly, savoring each exotic spice, lost in the warmth of the fire and the gentle clinking of silverware. He was so immersed that he jumped slightly when he realized he wasn't alone at the table anymore.
A girl was watching him, chin resting on her arm, a faint smile on her lips.
It was the same girl who had slipped a hundred-dollar bill into his guitar case earlier at the market. She had straight black hair down to her shoulders, dark lively eyes, and wore a short black dress with faded Converse sneakers. There was something about her that radiated confidence—an energy Edward found hard to define.
He swallowed hard.
"Can I help you, miss?" he asked hesitantly, uncomfortable.
She smiled, as if the question had amused her.
"No, I don't think you can."
Edward frowned. If she didn't need anything, why sit beside him in an almost empty restaurant? As if reading his thoughts, the girl tilted her head and said in a light, cheerful tone:
"It's just... you seem interesting. The song you played today at the market—I've never heard anything like it. Sure, it was your original composition, so the lyrics were new by default, but even the style... it was weird. Different."
She paused, thoughtful, before continuing.
"I went home and spent hours trying to find something similar. It drove me nuts. It had a bit of the metal scene from Galar, but lighter... more fun. Maybe a touch of Unovan rock? But still... it was unique."
Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, and her gestures grew more animated. Edward felt a bit cornered by the flood of words and her enthusiasm.
"I... don't really understand all those comparisons," he replied, lowering his eyes to the now-almost-empty plate. "I just play my way, I guess."
She gave a soft laugh, clearly pleased with the answer.
"That makes you even more fascinating, mister... what should I call you?"
Edward hesitated for a second. He wasn't used to talking to girls, especially not one this beautiful. He swallowed his nerves.
"Edward Silver. But my friends call me Edie."
The girl extended her hand with grace and a warm smile.
"Alyssa Van Halen."
Edie nearly dropped his fork. The name was so loaded with irony he had to stifle a nervous laugh. A singer named Van Halen? Was that for real?
Trying to steer the subject away, he cleared his throat.
"So, Alyssa... you like music?"
"Like it?" She grinned wide. "Music is my life. I've been singing since I was five. Always wanted to be a star."
Edie was surprised by the passion in her voice.
"Really? I used to dream of becoming a big musician too. Or... I guess I used to," he added, his voice dropping at the end.
For a moment, he thought of his friends back on Earth. The band he had left behind. The promises made during late-night rehearsals, the laughter, the plans. A tightness grew in his chest.
Alyssa noticed the shift in his mood. Without warning, she grabbed Edie's hands in hers, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Then why don't you join my band? For real! With your guitar skills and my voice... we could be huge, Edie. We could take over this world!"
He opened his mouth to reply, but Alyssa was already standing.
"Come on! I'll show you my studio! We need to rehearse, write something new! It's gonna be amazing, I swear!"
"Wait, but I just—" he tried to protest, but she was already tugging him by the arm.
Despite his initial resistance, Edie gave in. There was something infectious about her energy, a spark that was hard to ignore. Before he knew it, he was being dragged out of the dining hall, Alyssa's excited voice leading the way.