A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

Mikoto made an annoyed noise at Shuten-dōji’s observation. It was a small, irritated sound, barely more than a displeased click of the tongue followed by an exhale through his nose. He didn’t even bother looking particularly offended.

Shuten-dōji found the noise cute.

It was amusing about how little effort Mikoto put into hiding his irritation. He had a way of making his displeasure known without ever needing to raise his voice.

"You’re the second person who’s made an observation like that today," Mikoto said with some annoyance. He shifted his hand away from his cheek and straightened slightly in his seat, his fingers brushing briefly against the side of his face before settling on the table. "What? Are my eyes droopy or something? Is there actually something wrong with the way I’m looking at people, or were both of you just deciding that I look miserable?"

Shuten-dōji regarded him calmly.

"I have lived for quite some time, so these things are rather easy to see," she explained. "You may think you’re hiding whatever is bothering you because you aren’t openly showing it, but people who have lived long enough learn that grief rarely announces itself so plainly. When one has lived a life like mine, it becomes easy to discern no matter how well hidden it may be. It can sit behind someone’s eyes, in the way they hold themselves, in the things they refuse to say, even in the way they become irritated when someone gets too close to what they’re trying not to think about."

Mikoto’s eyes shifted away from hers.

"I hardly doubt what I have is grief," he scoffed, leaning back in his seat as he folded his slender arms across his chest. His posture became casual, as though relaxing his body could make the subject less serious. "I’m not on the verge of crying my heart out and lamenting over some terrible tragedy. I’m not sitting here mourning something and waiting for someone to tell me it’s going to be all right. So I hardly think you can just look at me for a few seconds and think that whatever this is must be grief."

His mouth shifted slightly.

"If anything, I’m annoyed. That’s what you’re seeing. I’m irritated, I’m tired of dealing with everything that’s been happening, and I don’t particularly enjoy people looking at my face and deciding they understand me better than I understand myself."

"Then would you tell me your woes?" Shuten-dōji asked almost expectantly.

There was no mockery in her voice, that more than anything made Mikoto hesitate.

He looked at her with a questioning expression, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

"Spill my heart out?" He gave a small, disbelieving breath. "Seriously? Girly as I look, that’s way out of character for me. I’m not the type to sit down and pour everything I’m thinking into somebody else’s lap, especially now. I don’t even know you well enough for that. And even if I did, I don’t exactly see myself suddenly becoming the sort of person who talks about every little thing that’s bothering him just because somebody asked."

Shuten-dōji’s gaze remained fixed on him.

"It could do you some good," she stated. "You are always tense, and I very much doubt it’s due to the weight of the armor you usually wear. Even now, without it, you still carry yourself as though you’re waiting for something to happen or preparing yourself for something you don’t want to face. Some things merely need to be said to someone. It would not somehow solve your issue, but keeping everything inside can make a burden heavier than it needs to be."

Mikoto’s expression remained unchanged.

"And that someone should be you?"

He leaned forward slightly, resting one arm against the table again.

"We’re barely that close, and I wouldn’t trust you with anything important just because you’re curious about me. You’re just here for your own sake, no? You’ve got your own reasons for sticking around, be it your own interests or own agenda. So why would I sit here and hand you pieces of myself when I don’t even know what you’re planning to do with them?"

His eyes narrowed.

"That doesn’t make much sense to me."

"True, I do have my own agenda, so to speak," the oni acknowledged without hesitation. "I won’t pretend otherwise, and I wouldn’t expect you to trust someone who simply tells you that she has no ulterior motives. But when do two people exactly grow close? It isn’t as though people begin knowing one another completely and then decide they are friends afterward."

Her voice remained gentle and conversational.

"When they are allowed to speak, to understand, and to feel what the other individual has, that is how relationships start. Two people remain strangers when neither of them allows the other close enough to understand them. If you always require complete trust before allowing anyone the opportunity to earn it, then no one could ever become close to you in the first place."

Mikoto would have liked to dismiss her words entirely; it would have been easier.

He could have scoffed, told her she was being sentimental, finished his chocolate, and walked away. That would have been much more consistent with how he normally handled things.

But honestly, he did not dislike the oni.

That was the irritating part.

Despite the amplification of his negative emotions due to the Angel side of him overtaking more and more of his personality, Mikoto still retained a minute amount of sense. Enough, at least, to distinguish between someone who was manipulating him and someone who was simply being genuine.

Shuten-dōji certainly wasn’t scheming.

She was strange; she was far too comfortable around him, and she had an irritating habit of saying things directly. But there was no obvious calculation behind her words, that merely confused him.

His red eyes met her own crimson orbs.

He studied her face quietly, only to see there was no deception. He saw no small change in expression that suggested she was attempting to steer him toward something. No hidden excitement at the possibility of gaining useful information from him. No lust either; that might have pointed toward her merely wanting him for something else.

She meant her words.

Mikoto’s gaze remained on hers for several seconds.

("Hm.") His expression became thoughtful. ("Having more ’friends’ wouldn’t be new.")

He lowered his eyes toward the mug.

("Even with the phase influencing me, there’s still care that can be amplified.")

His fingers rested against the warm ceramic; the idea wasn’t entirely unreasonable. He had people he cared about already; the phase might be twisting the way those feelings expressed themselves, but it hadn’t erased them completely. If anything, it had made some emotions sharper while dulling others. Perhaps being around someone genuine could help keep him grounded.

("Maybe it can help mellow me out until I’m in a safe enough place to use Harbinger again.")

His eyes lifted toward Shuten-dōji once more; he didn’t entirely trust her. That hadn’t changed, but trust didn’t have to be absolute.

Maybe that was what she had been trying to tell him; he still didn’t have to hand her everything. He could simply talk, for once.

"Fine," Mikoto said at last, his tone dry enough to make it clear he wasn’t about to make the moment sentimental. "I’ll tell you my oh-so-tragic woes. We can sit here and pretend this is some meaningful heart-to-heart, and maybe afterward we can hug and everything."

The sarcasm was obvious.

His rosy lips curved faintly, though whether it was amusement or resignation was difficult to tell.

"Just don’t expect me to suddenly become emotionally available because you asked nicely. If I’m going to talk, I’m doing it because there’s some value in getting it out, not because you’ve turned me into a soft little crybaby."

Shuten-dōji gave a small smile as she stood up.

"I may hold you to that," the oni replied, her tone carrying amusement at his reluctance. "If you’ve offered me a hug, even sarcastically, I shall remember that offer when the time comes. But come. We should enjoy the stars while we converse. There’s no reason for us to sit inside surrounded by other people’s noise while discussing things that are better spoken somewhere quieter."

She turned and began walking.

Mikoto remained seated for only a moment, his fingers loosened around the mug. He glanced down at the remaining chocolate, then back toward Shuten-dōji.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was agreeing.

Perhaps it was because there was something about the certainty in her words that made refusing feel more exhausting than accepting. Perhaps he simply wanted to see where the conversation went. Or perhaps, somewhere beneath all his irritation, he really did want to talk.

Whatever the reason, Mikoto wordlessly got up.

The chair shifted beneath him as he stood, and he placed the mug back on the table before following after her.

Shuten-dōji continued toward the exit without looking back; Mikoto followed.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!