Private There's No Smoke Without Fire

Konpeitō nodded in understanding at not having a consistent feeling on the island. It was far from the worst place in the world, but there were many, many parts of it he could do without.

He tried to keep his eyes off of Adelaida's glass. It just kept getting refilled. Someone having a high alcohol tolerance, or not being affected by alcohol at all, wasn't uncommon. Still, he worried. He's seen the worst of hangovers.

"That makes sense to me. I was made to always approach life with energy and optimism." It stung that he wasn't fulling that perfectly. "That's still admirable though. Not a lot of people are like that. For many, it can be hard to work towards what they're passionate about, so I'd say you're a special minority."

Konpeitō laughed at Adelaida's reaction to the compliment. He enjoyed seeing people who took a compliment and ran with it through the finish line.

"Not artificial. More... a test-tube baby? Is that the term for someone genetically engineered? Anyway, I was made in a lab, but I have absolutely no memories of it. I was bought by my dad before I could make memories, then learned about it after being brought here."

Flattered and confused, Konpeitō chuckled nervously. "There were upsides and downsides to my creation. Technically, I also had disastrous consequences for my family down the line." Every time he thought about that, it was weird. At first, it was because he didn't feel guilty or sad, only wonderful. Now he kind of regretted what he did.

"I managed to get a scout to give me some of the information on how I and others like me were made to help with my shape-shifting. Remaking myself is one thing. Making something else like me—er, like my original me—is... too much. People have made familiars and robots here, but making actual sapient life has a lot more hoops to jump through."

"Isn't too hard," she says. He wanted to argue against that, but he was reminded of the few times he said building a computer wasn't hard and got strange looks.

There were more important things for him to think through, like how to answer Adelaida's answer. "Aah... I'm not sure how to explain it." He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. "When I was taken here, my dad was put in jail for technically participating in slave trading. I wasn't sure how to deal with my grief, so I gave my bond to him away to a demon who turned emotions into masks that can be worn to feel. Sometime later, he," he did a whoosh gesture, "disappeared. I assume he's some fae's slave right now."

Adelaida received no response for a couple of seconds. There was a misunderstanding and he wasn't sure how to clear it up, or if he even should. "Ah... First, I'm sorry to hear about your family and, well, everything. That's awful."

He took a deep breath, then went on the address the mistake with a laugh. "What I did wasn't a mistake. I don't feel bad about it. I'm not sure I really feel anything about it. It's more that... if he was alive and I could somehow get him back, some normality from my old life might be returned, but I doubt my therapist and friends would be okay with that. He would still be put on the islets, his crimes would be public, and everything we had was lost, anyway. But you're right, dealing with fae is a whole mess." He gave another laugh, this time a bit more stiff. "My situation is a whole mess, but I'm slowly figuring it out."