This is after a week when the 1st generation found her.
The guardians are in their teens. I think, since Primo was in his mid-20s when he died, and Kamiko time-traveled to the future 6-7 years before they died. In this little drabble, she's 11, and all those drabbles before this, she's 12, almost 13. In Fallen Snow, she's 14, almost 15.
It took them 5-6 months until they started trusting her. They ask her a lot of questions and gave her a lot of tests.
This is also before she got the red eye.
A Little Trick Question
"Giotto-sama said that if you want to say something, please write it on this note," a maid said as she took my empty tray with empty dishes.
She handed me a blank piece of paper and a quill.
I took them and an idea came into my mind.
I wrote thank you using the keyword cipher, and gave it to the maid.
She read it and gave me a confused look.
"I wrote thank you using the keyword cipher. Don't tell them. See if they can figure it out. Tomorrow, you can tell them. Let's see if they are smart," I said in a small, monotone voice that matched my expression.
She nodded with a smile and scurried away.
(3rd person P.O.V.)
"I don't understand this to the extreme," the priest said, turning the note upside down and backwards.
"How can a small child write this?" the blonde exclaimed, slamming his head on the couch. The guardians were gathered in the living room, all confused except for one.
The pin- red haired teen glared at note and the green haired teen that was asleep with drool coming out of his mouth.
"Nufufufu~ I think she wrote it in some kind of code," the pineapple/melon haired teen said, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed.
"Ahaha, I think she's trying to tell us how smart she is at her age," the only Japanese laughed as he read the note.
In a corner, a certain skylark smirked as he left the room in search of the little girl.
I was halfway through a book about this world's history when someone knocked on my door.
With the book in hand, I opened the door to come in face with a gray trench coat.
Tilting my head upwards, I stared at a platinum blonde haired boy (remember, he's a teenager) with half-lidded eyes.
"Yes?" I asked, my attention back to the book as I waited for an answer. I read a few lines about Spain finding waterways throughout the world, and looked back up at him.
He ruffled my hair and smirked at me.
"You're welcome," he said as he put his hands back into his pockets. "My name is Alaude, Odd Eyes."
Then he walked away, leaving me to wonder about my eyes. One's gold, one's silver, what's wrong about that?