Inside the diner...
MeMe licked her fingers, finishing the last crumb of Ro-ro's taco. Her eyes darted toward the door.
"...Ro-ro? Where is he?" she whispered to herself. "He wouldn't just leave... right?"
A small knot of anxiety formed in her chest. Her long blue ears twitched as her glowing eyes flicked toward the window. Her mind raced.
"What if he left me? No—no, stop it, MeMe. He wouldn't do that."
She slapped her cheeks lightly—smack-smack.
"Pull it together! Ro-ro's kind of a jerk sometimes, but he's not that kind of jerk."
Then—
SCREEEEEECH.
A sharp tire squeal tore through the street. Her ears perked up. The same gleaming blue racer from before screeched into view outside the window.
The door slammed open.
The man stepped in with swaggering fury. His quilted vest shimmered in the light, his pigtails bouncing with every step. His eyes were pale and soulless.
He lifted a massive, custom 4-style shotgun—polished chrome, mean, and ugly.
"HEY, alien bitch!" he snarled. "No one bumps into Stich. NO—BODY!"
BLAM!
The shotgun blasted. MeMe yelped and dropped to the floor, rolling behind the counter just in time as the wall behind her exploded in splinters.
SCREAMS erupted from the customers. Plates shattered. Someone sobbed.
"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!!" Stich screamed, pumping his shotgun.
BLAM! He fired into the ceiling. Dust rained down.
Desah ducked behind the bar, trembling, and whispered, "MeMe—go to the back. Now!"
MeMe nodded, crawling low and fast toward the back hallway, heart pounding.
She whispered to herself, "Okay. You can do this. You've survived worse. Ro-ro wouldn't let anything happen to you. Just stay calm, MeMe…"
Outside...
Ro-ro's body twitched.
He groaned, still lying in the shattered glass from the vending machine. His chest heaved, blood soaking his side.
Then—
He heard the distinct, arrogant clack of that shotgun inside. Heard MeMe scream.
His robotic eye locked onto the reflection in the restaurant's shiny chrome railing—Stich, inside, gunning for MeMe.
Ro-ro's face twisted into a scowl.
"This guy... is really pissing me off."
With trembling fingers, he raised his Desert Eagle, lining up the sight through the mirrored angle.
Then—Stich caught the gleam in the reflection. He whipped around like a snake and fired through the window.
BOOM!
Ro-ro didn't duck fast enough. The slug tore through his side again—just below the ribs.
"AAGH—" he howled, collapsing back into the dirt, coughing blood. His gun clattered to the ground beside him.
Inside, Stich smirked. "Heh. Shoulda stayed down, dumbass."
Ro-ro grit his teeth, blood dripping from his mouth.
Inside the diner...
Stich leapt over the counter, landing with a thud and a cocky grin.
"Where is she, you blue alien?" he sneered.
Desah stood frozen behind the counter, hands slightly raised. "I-I don't know. I swear."
Stich cocked his shotgun with a satisfying clack and pointed it at Desah's head.
"My friend asked you a question."
Desah flinched but didn't speak. A faint creak echoed from the back hallway.
Stich's smile widened. "Heh... so that's where."
He walked with deliberate, heavy steps into the dimly lit back room, where broken glass and scattered supplies covered the floor.
His boots crunched on the shards.
Then he saw it—wisps of glowing light blue hair peeking out from behind one of the lower cabinets.
He licked his teeth and murmured to himself, as if savoring the moment.
"Hair follicles go through a cycle of growth, rest, and shedding… At any given time, roughly 90% of your hair is in the growth phase... 10% in the resting phase…"
He stepped closer, gun raised.
"…Which means losing 50 to 100 hairs a day is normal." He tilted his head. "Funny thing is… your hair's gonna be the reason you die."
BOOM! He fired at the first cabinet. Empty.
CLACK—BOOM! Another. Still nothing.
"C'mon already," he muttered. "You know you're gonna die. Might as well make it quick."
He aimed at the third cabinet.
Meanwhile—outside…
Ro-ro dragged himself through the shattered street, blood dripping from his side. He collapsed next to Lumo's unconscious body and shoved his hand in the guy's coat.
"…C'mon, c'mon…" he hissed, gritting his teeth.
Then he found it—a neon-blue Neo-Med injector.
Ro-ro didn't hesitate. He stabbed it into his side. His body jolted, the nanotech kicking in instantly, stitching torn muscle, sealing internal bleeding. The pain dulled.
He staggered to his feet, panting.
"…Shit. He's still inside."
Ro-ro grabbed his Desert Eagle, the weight familiar in his palm, and ran back into the diner.
Back inside...
MeMe crouched in the cabinet. Her whole body trembled. Her eyes glowed faintly in the dark, tears already welling up.
In her hands, she clutched a kitchen knife.
He's going to kill me, her thoughts raced. Ro-ro isn't coming. He's gone. I'm alone. I'm...
BOOM! The third cabinet exploded next to her.
Stich laughed. "One more. You in this one, sweetheart?"
He tapped the reload button on his gun. A whirring sound filled the air as he raised the barrel.
"Say goodbye."
He aimed.
But before he could fire—
MeMe burst from the cabinet, screaming, and drove the knife into his neck.
"GRAAAHH—!" Stich staggered back, dropping the shotgun.
Blood sprayed across the metal walls.
She pulled the blade out with a wet squelch, then stabbed him again. And again.
And again.
"Don't—hurt—me—" she sobbed between stabs.
Stich gurgled, twitching, blood pooling under him as he collapsed.
MeMe didn't stop.
Her tears streamed down her face, her breath hitching. "You were gonna kill me—you were gonna kill me!"
She stabbed again.
Then—Ro-ro kicked the door open.
"MeMe—!"
He froze when he saw her.
There she was—sweet, kind, naive MeMe—kneeling in a puddle of blood, stabbing a lifeless man over and over with a shaking hand, her other gripping the counter for balance.
"...MeMe," Ro-ro said, quietly.
She didn't stop.
Ro-ro walked forward, slowly. "That's enough."
She didn't even look at him.
Ro-ro crouched beside her, grabbed her wrist—not rough, but firm.
"Hey." His voice softened—something rare for him. "That's enough."
She finally looked up at him, eyes wide, shimmering with grief, fear, and rage.
Then she collapsed into his chest, the knife falling to the ground with a clang.
Her body trembled.
Ro-ro held her gently, his strong arms wrapping around her.
"I thought you were gone…" she whispered.
Ro-ro rested his chin on her head. "Not yet, space girl. Not yet."
He stared down at Stich's body, eyes dark.