A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

Within the confines of the luxurious inn room Goiim had paid for them, the atmosphere was considerably quieter than the banquet they had left behind. The room was spacious, furnished with more than enough comforts for a prolonged stay, yet neither of them seemed particularly interested in making use of them. The bed remained untouched. Neither had bothered to sit.

Gretel stood beside the large wardrobe, leaning against it with one shoulder while her rapier and its sheath rested against a nearby chair. Her silver eyes remained on Mikoto, studying him.

"So she wants us to fetch a spear?" Gretel asked at last. "That’s really all this comes down to? We break into the Duke’s vault, take one particular spear, and bring it back to her?"

Mikoto stood near the door with his arms folded, still wearing his heavy armor despite having no immediate reason to do so. Despite the weight of the armor, his small frame still looked strangely delicate. His snow-white hair and fine features made him look almost too pretty to be standing there discussing a theft from a Duke’s private vault.

"Not just some spear," Mikoto replied. His red eyes shifted toward her. "It’s powerful. There’s something about it that’s real special. Though I doubt someone like you could even tell."

Gretel stared at him for a beat.

"Ouch." There was no real hurt behind the word. If anything, the corner of her mouth threatened to rise. "But I guess after seeing how casually you tease people, I’d actually prefer the blatant insults. At least then I know exactly where I stand with you."

"Good to know you have a brain," Mikoto said.

He lifted one of his thick gauntleted hands just enough to flick his bangs aside with a delicate motion as his red eyes settled on Gretel again.

"But where’s the red-hooded idiot?"

"Last I saw, she was talking to a red-haired girl," Gretel answered. "She was quite pretty, too. Maybe Paimon actually made a friend?"

Mikoto’s expression suggested that he found the possibility difficult to believe.

"Doesn’t matter, I guess." He looked back toward the door. "She’s not really needed."

Gretel gave him a small, knowing look before pushing herself away from the wardrobe.

"Then are we going to steal what Goiim wants tonight?"

She folded her hands behind her back and turned toward the window across the room. Beyond the glass, Pulchritudo stretched into the night, its lights still visible in the distance.

"The sooner the better," Mikoto said. "I’d rather not waste any more time in this city than we have to."

"You’re so impatient for someone so young," Gretel said with a small smile. "Most people would take their time in a city this big. There’s a lot to see, and plenty of things to do if you actually bother looking."

"Like what?" Mikoto gave a small scoff. "Enjoy the sights? Talk to the locals? Wander around until we find something amusing?"

His gaze lowered slightly, his expression becoming more dismissive.

"Those kinds of things don’t interest me in the slightest. They’re distractions. If they don’t get us closer to what we’re trying to accomplish, then they’re a waste of time."

Gretel’s smile widened slightly.

"Don’t I know it?" She turned her head toward him. "You’re really like an old man, huh? You look like someone who should be enjoying sweets and sightseeing, but you talk like you’ve already lived through three lifetimes and don’t have the patience for any of them anymore."

Mikoto’s eyes narrowed.

"Do you want me to be the one teasing you again?"

Gretel immediately recognized the warning beneath his otherwise calm voice.

"Now, now. Let’s not get hasty." She lifted both hands in surrender, a small red tinge returning to her cheeks as the memory of what had happened earlier came rushing back. "All I’m saying is that it might be good to slow down sometimes."

Her hands gradually lowered.

"You don’t have to treat every moment that isn’t directly connected to the objective as wasted time. We’ve made it this far. We can afford to breathe once in a while."

"I don’t have time to ’slow down.’" Mikoto’s answer was immediate; his red eyes remained fixed on her, his expression flat. "I have things I need to do. Every delay is another moment spent moving away from them. I don’t intend to forget that just because this city happens to be big."

Gretel studied him quietly for a moment.

The words themselves weren’t surprising, nor was the impatience. But there was something underneath them that made her smile fade slightly.

Mikoto seemed afraid of wasting time.

As though allowing himself to stop, even briefly, meant giving something else the opportunity to catch up with him.

She didn’t say that aloud.

"Huh. You really want to take care of those dragons, don’t you?" Gretel mused, her voice carrying a little more curiosity than before. She watched Mikoto for a moment, studying the way his expression remained so composed despite the subject they were discussing. "I’m still curious about the real reason behind it, though. I don’t mean the usual ’it’s a big problem, so we should get it out of the way before it becomes even bigger’ sort of reasoning. That’s the obvious answer. I’m asking why you, specifically, care enough to put yourself in the middle of it."

Mikoto remained quiet for a moment.

His red eyes stayed lowered.

"There’s no grand reason," Mikoto finally answered. His voice was quiet but no less flat. "There never is. People always expect there to be some profound explanation behind everything, as if every decision has to come from some great conviction." He shifted his weight slightly, the heavy sabatons beneath him making a small sound on the floor. "If those overgrown lizards are allowed to just remain here, they’ll tear this whole universe apart."

His tone did not become more severe. He didn’t raise his voice, and there was no dramatic emphasis behind the words, yet his eyes narrowed slightly.

"And when they’re finished with this one, they’ll move on to the next. Then the next one after that. They’ll keep going until eventually they’ll—" He stopped as his rosy lips pressed together.

For a brief moment, something much harder to read crossed his face. His gaze drifted away as though he’d suddenly realized he’d said more than he intended.

He shook his head once.

"The point is, having a few universes be destroyed is pretty inconvenient."

Gretel stared at him for a second; she wasn’t sure whether she should laugh at the absurd understatement or simply let it pass.

"Inconvenient is certainly one way to put it," she murmured. "I’d probably call it extremely catastrophic." There was a small pause that followed.

But of course she had noticed it, the way he had said this universe. The way he’d spoken about the dragons moving from one universe to another as though he understood the process far better than he should.

She was curious, very curious at that. But she knew Mikoto well enough by now to understand that pressing him wouldn’t get her anywhere. If anything, the more directly she asked, the less he’d tell her.

So she let it go.

For now at least.

"But it’s still pretty nice that you’re willing to take that kind of risk," Gretel continued after a moment. "Whatever your reason is, you’re putting yourself against something that could destroy entire universes. You could simply decide that it’s someone else’s problem."

Mikoto’s gaze shifted toward her.

"How do you figure?" There was no real curiosity in his voice. He wasn’t asking because he genuinely needed the answer. He sounded more as though he wanted to understand why Gretel had arrived at that conclusion.

Gretel gave him another small smile.

"It’s kind of admirable." She paused, choosing her next words. "Like you’re some kind of hero."

Mikoto said nothing; for several seconds, the room was quiet. His expression didn’t immediately change, but the smallest tension appeared around his eyes. His gaze lowered, and his fingers shifted slightly against the heavy gauntlet resting over his opposite arm.

("Hero, right.") The thought came with an unpleasant familiarity. ("That’s the whole reason Sabre chose me in the first place. That trial and all.")

The memory lingered only briefly before he pushed it aside; a small scoff escaped him.

He shook his head once, the movement sending a few strands of his snow-white hair shifting against his face.

"Ridiculous." The word was quiet and dismissive.

But there was something underneath it that Gretel couldn’t quite place.

It could not be called anger or embarrassment; it was something closer to resentment. As though being called a hero had reminded him of something he would much rather have forgotten.

("Did I make him upset?") Gretel thought with a small frown.

It was difficult to tell with Mikoto.

Mikoto frowned.

Mikoto glared.

Mikoto scowled.

But Mikoto never smiled.

Or at least he never smiled warmly.

She watched those beautiful features that seemed to be permanently set into a frown.

("It would be nice to see him smile,") Gretel thought absentmindedly.

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