After a brief pause the woman removed the hood and revealed her young face. Short and playful black hair came near shoulder-length, thick bangs sweeping over her pale blue eyes. A thin layer of pink lipstick covered her full lips. “I don’t want to attract too much attention to myself here,” she said.

“You should probably put the hood back on then.” Her face flushed, and she finally smiled at him. “I mean, how come you don’t want people showin’ up?” Niko asked.

She distracted herself with a couple frayed books in the pile. “It’s nothing you should worry about.”

Niko gazed upon the seemingly troubled woman, and their eyes finally met.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Like I was sayin’, I’m s’pposed to find the mayor.”

She shut the book. “The mayor? Must be important.”

Niko shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, I just gotta look for a job so I can make some money.”

She gauged his rugged appearance more closely. “You may want to take a shower first,” she said, her lip curling and nose wrinkling. “Some new clothes wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Niko scoffed. “Hey, you’re wearin’ a grubby ol’ rag on your head!”

They smirked at one another while Niko perused the intriguing knick-knacks in the cart, consisting of sculpted figurines of ancient eastern deities, folklore characters, and exotic animals. A small shelf also contained various food items from Aruga such as candies, small toys, and other snack items. Niko picked up a bag of dried meat. “What’s this?”

“It’s cured meat from Arugian wildebeests, kinda like what they serve in the restaurant down the street. Not as good as a real satay, though,” she said, giggling.

“Is it any good?”

“Why don’t you try some?”

Niko dug around in his pockets. “I don’t have any—”

“Oh, don’t worry. You look tired. Keep your strength.”

“Thanks.”

She quietly moved along the cart while he rummaged. Nestled beneath a pile of colored shirts, Niko curiously unburied a musty, gray-blue cap. He carefully held its black brim and gently touched a patch of an odd, pink floral insignia embroidered on the front. “Wow, how old’s this hat?”

“Not real sure. It’s been passed around a lot in my family,” the girl replied.

“How come you’re sellin’ it?”

“Hats aren’t really my thing.”

Niko sniffed it, then shook away some dusty buildup. “It’s kinda cool, wonder why no one’s bought it.”

“Maybe it hasn’t found the right person.” The young woman approached Niko and slowly placed the hat over his head. “A perfect fit,” she said, a bit teasingly.

Niko fumbled his hands. “You think? I never worn a hat before.”

“Give it time.”

“You mean…?”

She nodded, her shoulders lightly perking up. “Please, take it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I kinda like you, you seem pretty normal.”

“Thanks,” replied Niko.

“I don’t know why, but it feels like we’ve met before.” Before Niko could say anything she playfully slapped the brim of the hat, gently forcing it over his face. “And now that you’re wearing this hat, I bet we’ll meet again.”

“You think?”

“Who knows? Legend says it brings friends together; let’s see if it’s true.”

Niko dumbly fingered the hat brim while they awkwardly stood across from one another. “I ain’t real keen on fairy tales.”

“You don’t like to read?” the girl said with hands over her hips.

“Eh, not really my thing. Well, lemme get goin’.”

She slapped him lightly on the arm. “Be careful out there.”

“Yeah. Oh hey, what’s your name?”

“My name’s Alia.”

“I’m Niko. Thanks again.”

“Bye.” The mysterious young Alia waved as he walked away. “We’ll see how this fairy tale ends.”

Niko soon approached the center square of Higonji, a gated enclosure filled with heavily-guarded executive office buildings, banks, and business-oriented institutions. Everywhere he looked, people hustled down the streets while cars noisily honked and braked along the jammed roads. Company workers garbed in suits, ties, and conservative uniforms walked by him, shooting a few odd looks his way while they passed. After a few people shoved past him, Niko tripped over to a tall lamppost and leaned against it to gather his bearings. “Phh, the bears in the woods are nicer than these guys!” he retorted.

Niko called to a few passersby for information, yet without so much as a few half-hearted and dismissive waves. With an irate sigh, he continued down the sidewalks. He passed by the window of a bank, where he briefly met eyes with a dark-skinned man standing by an automated teller’s window. He hefted a black suitcase up under his arm, accidentally bumping into Niko.

“Whoops, sorry ‘bout that,” Niko said.

The man straightened the collar of the crimson undershirt beneath his black vest and gave Niko a smile. “Ah, no worries, young man. Higonji is always a busy place!”

“Wait, I seen you somewhere,” Niko said, scratching his cheek.

“Hmm? Oh, seems you dropped this,” the man said slyly, picking up Niko’s hat.

“Oh, thanks.” Niko put the hat back on. “Hey, you’re the guy in the restaurant, right?”

The stranger bowed his head, giving Niko a wily look through his dark brown eyes. “Good memory, you have. Ah, I manage the Arugian Oasis Tavern.”

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” Niko asked.

“Just depositing some Dinara into my account. Must pay rent for the restaurant.”

“I’m lookin’ for the mayor to get job training. Sounds kinda boring, though,” Niko said with a laugh.

“You seek employment?”

“I guess, yeah,” Niko said lamely.

The seemingly rigid, tall-standing fellow approached Niko and extended his hand. “Ah, you need money to travel, no?”

Niko awkwardly held the man’s hand without even shaking it. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

The man chuckled. “You appear as someone who moves from place to place.” He let go of Niko’s hand. “Anyhow, my restaurant is in need of hands. Would you be interested in working for me?”

Niko shied away a bit. “Really? What about the mayor and all that stuff?”

“Job placement can take a long time—but you can start making money right now,” the man replied, shrugging his arms.

“Won’t I get in trouble?”

“With who? You are not doing wrong, just making a living. That’s what you want, is it not, young man?” The man took a few steps down the sidewalk, clutching his suitcase. Niko’s body swayed around, his hand reaching out.

“Hang on. What kinda work is it?”

The man simpered. “I can train you. Hmm, you could make a promising host.” He walked over to Niko again. “What do you say?”

With gripped lips and a clammy hand, Niko hesitantly shook the man’s hand. “I’ll take it.”

The man put his arm around Niko and escorted him down the sidewalk. “What’s your name, young man?”

Niko’s body stiffened by the odd fellow’s proximity. “I’m Niko Sandori.”

“Ah, nice to meet you. I am Gino Jirani.”

“Huh, weird name.”

Mr. Jirani moved his arm from Niko’s shoulder and tucked it behind his back as he walked. “Ah, a name says so little about a person! I come from a proud family.”

“You’re from that place Geruba, right?” Niko said.

“Aruga. My friends and I came here a few years ago when Higonji was built. We work for Mayor Corrigan.”

“Wow. So how come you’re workin’ in a restaurant?”

“It is merely a side job, Mr. Niko! We Arugians share a passion for culinary arts.”

“What’s that mean?” Niko said.

“Ah, you’ll find out when you start work! Come, let’s return,” Mr. Jirani said excitedly.

Keeping an eye on his his surroundings, Mr. Jirani escorted Niko down into the Galleria back to the restaurant. He allowed Niko in first and walked him past the sparsely populated dining area, filled with black laminate tables, cozy booths, and a small bar near the kitchen. A couple servers greeted Mr. Jirani as he walked through the stainless steel door to the kitchen. “Come, Niko, and we can begin your training,” he said.

Niko entered the kitchen area, speckled with food stains, used dishes, and half-empty boxes, and set his carrying sack on one of the countertops. He stepped over some unopened foodstuff crates and boxes of kitchen sundries and came to the expo area, where two other chefs busily cooked and prepped. Mr. Jirani picked up a spatula and thwacked it against the counter. “Gentlemen!”

One of them, a tall man with long, shaggy black hair and a scruffy goatee, turned around from sautéing a pan of chicken and vegetables. “Ah, Gino, you’re back,” he said in a high voice.

The other cook, the shortest of them, hopped up on a box behind the line and poked his rotund face over the counter. “Any luck, Gino?”

“Eh, yes! Our little friend has returned, to work for us!” Mr. Jirani exclaimed, moving his hands about.

The two men shared a glance, and walked around to the expo line, tripping on some fallen stainless steel cooking bowls and tools. Amid their bungling, they took off their food-stained yellow aprons and bowed to their friend.

“Hey, it’s you again,” Niko said.

“Ah, we can say the same!” the tall, goateed man said.

“Boy, somethin’ smells great! What’re ya cookin’?”

“My friend Dhuvari is preparing some lemon glazed chicken.”

“Iamo, please…friends call me Duy,” the short, bespectacled man said with a toothy grin.

Mr. Jirani ushered Niko forward. “These are my friends, Duy Shigoh, and Iamo Norasi.”

Niko shook the mens’ hands. “Man, y’all have some crazy names!”

“Ah, and who might you be?” Mr. Shigoh said, a bit cheeky.

“I’m Niko Sandori.” He crouched down to shake Mr. Shigoh’s hand.

“Ah, Niko—a name I hear quite often,” Mr. Shigoh replied.

“Really?”

“And we are the odd ones,” Mr. Shigoh whispered to Mr. Norasi.

“My friends, our guests do not desire burnt chicken,” Mr. Jirani said, “keep working and I will get Niko set up out front.” He took Niko’s arm and they reentered the dining room.

“If no one wants that burnt chicken, I’ll eat it,” Niko said jovially.

“Hmm, perhaps if you do well. For now, just sweep the restaurant and clean the tables, nothing too difficult.”

Mr. Jirani handed Niko a broom, a rag, and a spray bottle of sanitizer. Niko fiddled with the bottle, squeezing the handle. “I think it’s stuck.” He twisted the nozzle, his finger still on the trigger, and sprayed the misty fluid in Mr. Jirani’s face. “Whoops, sorry.”

“Ah, bottle appears to be unstuck,” Mr. Jirani said, wiping his damp cheek. “Make sure the dining room is clean. I must help prep in the kitchen. Lunchtime is very busy for us.”

Mr. Jirani walked back to the kitchen while Niko began wiping down a nearby table, knocking his head against the dangling paper lantern above. While he worked, Mr. Norasi peered through the little window on the kitchen door.

“Iamo, make yourself useful and portion these vegetables,” Mr. Jirani said, prodding him a little. “Ah, perhaps all that hair makes you oblivious.” He tugged on a strand of Mr. Norasi’s clumpy hair, then stood beside him to spy on Niko.

“Where did you find that kid? He keeps tripping over the broom,” Mr. Norasi said.

“Never mind him for now,” Mr. Jirani whispered. “Just keep working while I go back…”

Mr. Jirani stopped talking as he walked past the counter, where Niko’s school bag lie slouched over it. With wide eyes, he picked up the faded hat that poked through the backpack. He gently ran a finger over the embroidered flower insignia.

“It can’t be.” Mr. Jirani hastily shuffled towards the kitchen door.

“Gino, what is it?” Mr. Shigoh asked from behind the cook line.

Mr. Jirani didn’t reply, and shoved his hand against the door. Upon reentering the dining area, he composed himself and casually walked over to where Niko worked. A mischievous grin appeared on his face. “So, Niko?”

“Huh? Yes, sir?” Niko said.

Mr. Jirani eagerly fondled the hat. “This, is a nice hat you have here. Where did you find it?”

“Oh, that? Some girl gave it to me. It’s pretty cool, and it’s real old.”

Yes, three generations old, Mr. Jirani thought. “Tell me, do you know who she is?”

“Dang, I can’t remember now. It was somethin’ silly…hey, how come you’re lookin’ at my stuff?”

Mr. Jirani fumbled, and anxiously rolled up his sleeves. “Ah, it was my fault, Niko. I needed to move it aside to work, and it fell out.”

“Oh…eh, no biggie, I guess. Somethin’ wrong, Mr. Jirani?”

“No, Mr. Niko. It’s just that this hat is very stylish. To have gotten it for free is lucky.”

Mr. Jirani quietly reentered the kitchen. Niko slung the drying towel over his back and tiptoed towards the kitchen. As he neared the metal door, a muffled noise emanated from the other side.

“The heck are they talkin’ about? I can’t understand ‘em,” Niko whispered.

He inadvertently leaned in too far and tumbled through the doorway on his face in front of them.

“Ah, Niko, what brings you here? Not to sneak food, I hope,” Mr. Norasi said.

“No, I uh, saw a stain on the door. Just givin’ this baby a quick wipe.” Niko grabbed his rag and began scrubbing the door.

“Well, very good eyes you have, Niko. Perhaps you use your ears just as well,” Mr. Shigoh said snidely.

Niko backed away. “Sir, I’m done with my cleaning. What should I do now?”

“Here, take this host uniform,” Mr. Jirani said. He tossed Niko a blue shirt and a black vest. “The busy hours are coming soon. We need to prep in the kitchen for now.”

Niko suspiciously eyed the man.

“What is the trouble, Niko?” Mr. Shigoh said, waving his spatula. “What happened to those good ears of yours?”

“Right, sorry.” Niko stumbled out of the kitchen and wrestled the outfit on while the three men began whispering again. Something familiar arose from the conversation, one word that rung in Niko’s ear like a bell. His eyebrows rose sharply. Alia? That’s the same girl…