He walked slowly to the quaint small shop, his footsteps almost hesitant as he approached. The comforting sight of the old, familiar building brought a small measure of peace to his restless mind. He gently pushed the door open, and the soft chime of the bell echoed through the quiet shop.
“Come in,” a voice called from inside.
He stepped inside, the familiar atmosphere wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The shop was as serene as he remembered, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the soothing scent of herbal teas.
Approaching the counter, he ordered an iced tea, hoping to clear his mind. The lady, Elaine from the morning, recognized him and gave a warm smile as she prepared his drink.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said kindly, handing him the iced tea. “You look like you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
He nodded, taking a sip of the refreshing drink. “I have,” he admitted, his thoughts drifting back to the intense matches and the revelations they had brought. “But it was necessary.”
She seemed a bit off. “This morning, you were so different. What happened?”
He grunted, closing his eyes. “I have debts to pay back. I've merely fixed my inadequacy to meet these demands.”
Elaine covered her mouth and chuckled, shoulders shaking.
He found a quiet corner of the shop and sat down, letting the peaceful environment and the cooling tea help him process everything that had happened. The old woman’s words echoed in his mind as he began to relax, feeling a sense of clarity slowly settling over him. Maybe he would come over more often.
As he sipped his tea, Elaine approached and took a seat across from him. “The store’s about to close anyway,” she said, her tone light and conversational.
He looked at her directly in the eyes, his expression serious. “You shouldn’t talk to people like me,” he said sincerely. “It could bring you trouble.”
She slapped the table. “What could a school-skipping high schooler have against the world?”
He slowly moved his hands and took off the Oni face that he had on. The room seemed to hold its breath as he slid the mask across the table towards.
“Ah.” Elaine’s voice was soft, almost a sigh. She scratched her neck thoughtfully. “You know, you were dismissed of all charges for a reason.”
He turned away, his voice heavy with resignation. “No one believed that for a reason.” With those words, he walked out, leaving the shop and Elaine’s unwavering gaze behind him.
He arrived home safely, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of solace. As he gazed at the sword on the wall, a symbol of his journey and struggles, he promised himself that he would pick it up tomorrow.
He had a routine. He would come to school for the minimum number of days, missing class three times a week, attending only the necessary four. It was better that way. Being present too often increased the risk of being hunted, so he kept his attendance sporadic. Whenever he got home, he holed himself up and watched for stalkers, his senses always on high alert. However, final exams were going to come up in a while, and graduation soon after in two months. To complete one of his debts, he needed to pass the exams and graduate.
Despite the turmoil of his thoughts, there was a strange sense of relief in skipping school. He hoped that everything would eventually go back to how it was before the accident, before his world was turned upside down. With that hope in his heart, he drifted off to sleep, the weight of his burdens momentarily lifted in the solace of slumber.
In the dreamworld, he found himself with someone next to him, a shadowy figure whose face he couldn’t quite discern. His body moved on its own accord, grabbing the person’s hand. They ran through the city, weaving through alleys and deserted streets.
The city’s lights blurred around them as they moved, their footsteps echoing in the night. They reached a building, their final location and solitary refuge. But just as they were about to enter, a group of figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding them.
A sense of dread washed over him as he realized the danger they were in. He unsheathed a black sword and engaged the fighters, but wasn't able to keep up even with immense speed. One of the figures swung a metal rod, the impact sending waves of pain through his body. He staggered, barely able to stay on his feet.
The world around him seemed to slow down, the voices of their attackers a distant murmur. He turned to the person beside him, his vision blurring. With a voice heavy with sorrow, his mouth moved of its own accord, but he couldn't understand any of it.
The assailants closed in, their weapons raised, poised to strike. Just as the metal rod flew towards the shadowy figure, he jolted awake to find someone shaking him.
He yelped, instinctively covering his bare chest with a blanket. “How did you even get in here?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of confusion.
She stood there, backpack slung around her, expression a mix of concern and exasperation. “You left your door open again,” she said, shaking her head slightly.
He coughed, taking a deep breath and trying to steady himself. “Thanks for letting me know,” he muttered. “But why are you here so early in the morning?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Good question,” she replied, her expression brightening. “You missed school yesterday, so I thought I’d make sure you get there today.”
He forced a small smile. “Thanks. Can you give me a moment to get ready?”
She nodded, understanding. “Of course. I’ll wait outside.”
As she left the room, closing the door behind her, he felt a wave of emotion crash over him. The remnants of the dream still clung to his mind, the fear and helplessness almost tangible. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he allowed himself a brief moment to let them fall. If she hadn’t woken him, the dream could have taken a darker turn. He wiped his face, took a few deep breaths, and steeled himself for the day ahead.
After getting dressed and gathering his things, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, finding her waiting patiently. He took a deep breath, ready to assert himself and be polite. “Actually, I’ve decided I’m not going to school today.”
Her expression changed instantly. She looked at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Oh, really?” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to school, whether you like it or not. The final exams are coming in the next few months.”
He hesitated, caught off guard by her intensity. “I just don’t think—”
“Enough,” she interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re going. But first, I have a few gifts for you.”
Before he could respond, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back to his bedroom. Confused, he watched as she pulled out a small mirror and placed it on the bed. Then, she reached into her bag and took out a t-shirt, holding it up with a smile.
“What’s all this?” he asked, bewildered.
“I thought you might need a little boost,” she said, handing him the t-shirt. “Put this on. And look at yourself in the mirror.”
He took the t-shirt, feeling its soft fabric between his fingers. “Why?” he asked, still unsure of what she was trying to do.
“No more hoodies from now on. Just trust me,” she insisted. “You’ll see.”
He protested, but she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I have a plan,” she said firmly.
Reluctantly, he glanced at the t-shirt and then back at her. His cheeks flushed. “Uh, could you turn around?” he mumbled.
She rolled her eyes, turning away as she rummaged through her bag for something else. “Hurry up,” she called over her shoulder. “We don’t have all day.”
He watched with curiosity as she took out a spray can from her bag. “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the can suspiciously.
“It’s magic concealer,” she explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “It uses earth and fire magic to conceal marks on the skin.” She approached him, holding out the can. “Let me see your neck.”
He hesitated for a moment before reluctantly nodding. As she sprayed the concealer on his neck, she gently rubbed it in, her touch surprisingly gentle. “There,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “Now the symbol on your neck is gone.”
He blinked, processing her words. “Symbol?” he repeated, confusion evident in his voice.
She nodded, her expression serious. “Yeah, it looked kind of drawn, like a symbol. Back in the old days, people used to mark their children with their family symbol. Maybe that’s what it was.”
He frowned, the idea sinking in. “But I don’t know anything about that,” he murmured, his mind whirling with possibilities. But he didn’t take long to forget about it.
He touched his neck, feeling the smooth surface where the birthmark had once been. “Wow,” he murmured, impressed. “Thanks.”
Finally, she grabbed a comb from her bag. He sighed inwardly, resigned to her meddling. “My only cover,” he muttered, standing still as she combed his hair away from his eyes. He remained silent, letting her work.
“There. Now you don't look like a helpless kitten.”
Heat flooded his cheeks, embarrassment creeping in. She laughed, holding up the mirror. “But now, you look regal. Maybe even a bit more confident and handsome.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at his reflection. “I’m still so pale,” he said, a hint of self-consciousness in his voice.
She looked at him with a mix of concern and reassurance. “It’s a sign of continuous stress,” she explained gently. “But it’ll go away soon.”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “So let’s walk to school together.”
He took a step back in shock. “You go to my school?”
She looked at him flatly. “I've been in your class for the whole year.”
He hesitated for a moment before cracking the first smile he had truly meant in years. “Alright then, I can walk with you.” he agreed, feeling a small sense of relief at her words.
He opened the door for her, a gesture that felt oddly natural despite his usual reclusive behavior. They stepped outside, the morning air cool and fresh. As they began to walk, he felt a strange mix of anxiety and anticipation. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t facing the day alone.
As they walked, she turned to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’re going to act like a new student today,” she said, her tone playful but serious. “It's like turning over a new leaf. What should we name you?”
“Has no one seen my face before?”
They stopped under a tree, its branches adorned with delicate blossoms. Petals fell gently onto her hair, which was being blown softly by the wind. He watched, mesmerized by the scene, before snapping out of his reverie. “What’s your name?” he asked, the question escaping before he could stop himself.
She smiled, the wind blowing again, lifting the petals around them. “Miyako,” she replied, her voice carrying a warmth that made the moment feel almost magical. “But you can call me Maki.”
“Maki,” he whispered softly. It was a beautiful and kind name.
Then he looked at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Do you know my name?”
She looked at him, concern flickering in her eyes. “Who wouldn’t?” she said softly. “Aric.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, the weight of her words crashing over him. The emotion he had been holding back finally broke free, and he collapsed onto the ground, tears streaming down his face.
Maki rushed to his side, her concern evident. “Aric, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Through his sobs, he managed to speak. “I…I apologize. Thank you... for being too kind to me, even when I don’t deserve it.”
“But you do!” she insisted, her voice firm and compassionate.
She gently helped him to his feet, her hands steadying him. “I’ve always seen what happened to you at school,” she confessed, her eyes filled with regret. “But I did nothing. I believed what everyone assumed about you.”
She took a brief pause.
“But after seeing how you treated me, how kind you were, I realized that what everyone thought wasn’t true,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly. “I wanted to apologize. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“Contractually, you don’t owe me anything. You’ve already done more than enough,” he said, trying to compose himself.
Maki shook her head, her expression resolute. “That’s not the case,” she insisted, extending her hand towards him. “Can we be friends, Aric?”
“What does that mean to you? Are you okay with talking to me?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
She nodded, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I noticed all those injuries you had, probably from after you led me home. Your perseverance was inspiring. I want to know you better, Aric. And no more complaining about your origins and whatnot whenever we do anything.”
He took a deep breath, feeling a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. “I feel the same way. Everyone treated me like trash... until you didn’t.”
“So, will you shake my hand?”
He hesitated for a moment, then reached out and shook her hand, a genuine smile breaking through his tears. “Yeah,” he whispered. “We can be friends.”