[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom Outskirts]
[Virelheim Mountain Village]
"Whoa, you suck."
Arabella's tone was flat, she stood with arms crossed, leaning lazily against the nearby railing, her expression dulled by the obviousness of Mikoto's defeat. Her eyes, however, flickered with delight in the opportunity to poke at him.
Mikoto sat on a worn stool opposite Meryl, the makeshift chessboard balanced precariously atop a barrel between them. The board was crowded — though not with his own pieces. Almost all of Mikoto's pale-white pieces had migrated across to Meryl's side, neatly lined like trophies.
This was his fifth loss of the day.
His slender figure sat stiffly, his gauntleted hand twitched once at his side, betraying the faint tremor of suppressed annoyance.
Meryl sniffled once — loudly — before smiling as if the sound of her nose trumpeting was somehow an appropriate punctuation for her victory. Her grin was wide, far too pleased. "Heh, I win again!" she cheered, voice bubbling with childish triumph.
"Maybe we should've picked a different game," Arabella drawled with a smug grin, arms folded tighter. "Something less humiliating for you. You're… honestly so bad at this."
Mikoto turned toward her slowly, his features pinching in annoyance. "Shut it, brat. You didn't even play."
The jab should have landed, but both girls brushed it off with ease. Mikoto wasn't sure what was worse — the sting of his repeated defeats or the fact that his opponents, his tormentors, were children half his size, or actually he was not that tall. That annoyed him much more.
("Seems when it's not academics or magic, I suck. How swell.")
Meryl leaned forward with her bright grin still intact, rocking in her seat as though her body itself couldn't contain the delight of beating him.
"Oh, oh! Do I get a reward for winning?"
Mikoto's instinct was immediate: No. The word sat at the tip of his tongue. But when he looked at her, really looked — the wide eyes, the expectant sparkle, the ridiculous childish eagerness — something stalled. He sighed, long and heavy. Five times in a row was no small feat, and though it hurt his pride, denying her felt… unnecessarily cruel.
"Fine," he muttered at last, tone reluctant. "Guess it's fair. But—" his red eyes narrowed as he raised one gauntleted finger, "—if it's some annoying request, I'm leaving."
Arabella perked up before Meryl could even think. Her grin widened into something dangerous. "We should play dress-up! Mikoto would look so cute in a dress!"
Mikoto turned his gaze on her slowly, his face blank. "I'll throw you to the moon."
Arabella only giggled, sticking her tongue out at him in mockery. Meryl tapped her chin, clearly considering her prize more carefully. For a moment, Mikoto dared to hope she had more sense than her friend.
"Oh! I know," Meryl said suddenly, eyes lighting up. "I've been curious since I first met you. Your name… it sounds different. Even Shuten's does. Could you tell us about your home, Mikoto?"
He blinked once, arching a brow. "That's all?"
Arabella groaned, rolling her eyes. "That's boring."
Still, Mikoto leaned back slightly, his armored shoulders creaking faintly with the shift. He crossed his arms, eyes lowering in thought.
"Alright. It's a place far to the east," he said carefully. "I doubt either of you brats have heard of it."
Of course, he couldn't just tell them the truth — that he came from another world entirely. They wouldn't believe him. Not really. And even if they did, what good would it do?
"But what's it like?" Meryl pressed, voice soft but insistent.
Mikoto hesitated, eyes sliding toward the dull gray of the sky overhead. He searched for words, for a way to describe something so far removed from this world.
"It… is colorful," he began slowly. "Most people who travel far usually visit there. It's… big. Loud. Filled with all sorts of people, with different voices, different rhythms. A lot of diversity."
He closed his eyes briefly, and in his mind the images returned unbidden. Crowds moving in and out of each other at Shibuya Crossing. The endless neon glow of signs against the night. Schoolchildren rushing in uniform. Adults dragging weary feet to work.
The vibrant nightlife. The chaos that somehow always felt orderly.
Home.
Except—no. That was Mikoto Yukio's home.
("And I'm—") His thought broke, his eyes snapping open as he forced the memory back into the recesses of his mind. He found both Arabella and Meryl staring at him, eyes wide, expectant.
"It's… traditional too," he continued. "People there put a lot of emphasis on respect. On courtesy. Though it's not all perfect. Not everything's dandy."
"Do you miss it?" Arabella asked suddenly.
Mikoto's head turned slightly, red eyes narrowing. "…Hm?"
"Your home," she clarified, her tone unusually genuine. "The look on your face just now — you looked… kinda sad. Like you were remembering something."
His lips pressed into a thin line. He had been certain he'd hidden it, kept the mask tight enough. Apparently not.
"It's not the place itself," he murmured at last. His voice was almost reluctant. "Just… some people there. People I want to see again. My mother. My sister."
Meryl's head tilted, her eyes widening. "You… have a sister?" she asked, sniffle interrupting her words. The surprise in her tone was genuine — Mikoto rarely shared anything so personal.
"Yeah," he said simply. "She's as annoying as you two brats."
"Hey! We're still not brats!" Arabella snapped, offended.
Mikoto only hummed in response, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.
"Well," Meryl said softly, her smile small but sincere. "I hope you see them again, Mikoto."
"…Hmph."
Arabella squinted suddenly, leaning closer, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Wait—did you just smile?"
Meryl gasped, leaning forward as well. "I-I think he did!"
"I did not," Mikoto deadpanned.
He drew in a breath, ready to steer the conversation away—when his words cut off abruptly. His entire body stiffened, the sudden shift in his posture startling both girls. Without warning, Mikoto shot up from his stool, armor clinking sharply as the stool scraped against the wooden platform.
Both Meryl and Arabella jolted.
"H-Huh? What's the matter, Mikoto?" Meryl asked quickly.
But Mikoto didn't answer. His head had already snapped westward, toward the forest beyond the village. His eyes narrowed, his senses sharpening.
("Mana. And this amount too.")
He saw it. Felt it. Not just a trickle of power, not the faint amount of some no named mage at work — but an overwhelming tide. It engulfed the forest like an ocean, flowing with serene blue radiance, steady and vast like a lake at rest. He hadn't even been reaching for it, hadn't been actively probing with his senses. For it to force itself upon him like this…
("Who could it belong to? Whoever it is… my instincts are going haywire.")
His legs tensed. Without hesitation, he leapt upward in a burst of force. The platform beneath him groaned under the pressure before wind exploded outward in his wake. The rush of pressure blurred his form as he vanished into the distance.
The two girls sat in stunned silence, hair tossed by the gust left behind. Slowly, they turned toward each other, confusion plain in their faces.
"…What just happened?" Arabella asked.
Meryl only shook her head, wide eyes fixed on where Mikoto had disappeared.
--------------------
[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom Outskirts]
"Hm… seems they're still as idle as they were," Shuten-dōji murmured, she leaned lazily against the charred bark of one of the many dead trees that dotted the forest. Her arms folded loosely.
"I suppose… if they were up to something, Mikoto would've let us know," Gretel offered sheepishly after a pause. She shifted uneasily, the air here always felt heavy, unnaturally so. "I just… got restless waiting, I guess."
"Indeed," the Oni woman replied simply, though there was something different in her tone. Her gaze hadn't moved. She was fixed on something, intent enough that Gretel finally tilted her head in curiosity.
"…Something the matter, Shuten?" she asked carefully.
Shuten's lips quirked faintly, and she gestured with her chin toward the west. "Focus your eyes. Not just your eyes — all your senses. Imagine tensing an invisible muscle to its utmost limit. Hold it there. Push it further. Then see what comes to you."
Gretel blinked at her, confused by both the instruction and the strange metaphor. Still, there was something in Shuten's tone that made her comply. She drew in a breath and narrowed her silver eyes, her brow furrowing with concentration. She reached not only with her sight but with everything else — the small shifts in air, the faint vibration beneath her boots.
At first, there was nothing. Just the ordinary emptiness of the dead forest.
But then —
Her breath hitched. She saw it. No, she felt it before she fully saw: an outline stretching wide, swallowing the forest whole. Blue, vast and serene, but immense. It shimmered faintly at the edges of her vision, as though the air was wrapped in a cloak of tranquil azure.
The presence followed. Subtle at first, then crushing. So potent, so thick she almost wondered how she had missed it until now.
("It's like… that sword.")
Her thoughts flickered to Sabre. That invisible weight that pressed down upon her whenever the weapon was near, suffocating and relentless. This was similar. Not identical, but similar enough to make her chest tighten. Only this — this was more potent. The sheer intensity was enough to make the hair at her nape prickle.
"What… what is this?" Gretel whispered, her voice quieter than she intended, almost reverent in its unease.
Shuten let out a low hum, her expression unreadable. "Magical energy," she said at last. "Mana, if you prefer. Quite potent, wouldn't you agree? Though…" she tilted her head, eyes narrowing with thought, "…the quantity, while great, is still less than Mikoto's."
Gretel's lips parted, her silver eyes widening. "So then… Mikoto would be a wizard?"
The thought wasn't surprising, not after everything she had seen him do — summoning a sword from nothing, altering his own appearance at will, the casualness with which he manipulated powers she couldn't begin to grasp. He had never clarified, never bothered to explain. But now, at least, the pieces began to fit.
"Indeed," Shuten confirmed. A small smile played at the corners of her lips, though her eyes stayed on the blue shimmer. "A powerful one. Remarkably so." She paused, her gaze narrowing slightly. "I can sense him even now. He's already moving toward the source."
"You… can pick up on that from here?" Gretel asked in disbelief. "That's— that's impressive." Her voice carried genuine awe, though she caught herself, cheeks flushing faintly at her own eagerness.
Shuten only let out a soft chuckle, tilting her head in a faintly smug manner. "It takes practice, nothing more."
Gretel's expression sobered. Her hands clasped together in front of her chest almost unconsciously. "But… do you think Mikoto will be fine? If he's heading toward that—" she nodded toward the overwhelming aura in the distance, "—then… shouldn't we be worried?"
Shuten's grin deepened. Not mocking, but almost wolfish. "Worried?" She let out a low, amused hum. "No. He's strong. He'll be fine. Of that, I have no doubt."
The grin lingered, and Gretel, for a moment, caught something more in her expression — something almost excited.
"…You've been smiling a lot, whenever it's about him," Gretel said slowly. The thought had been in her mind for some time, and now, with the moment pressing down, it slipped out. "I've been meaning to ask. You seem… strangely infatuated with Mikoto. Not that it's any of my business but—" she hesitated, looking off to the side, "—is it just because he's strong?"
Shuten blinked once. Then, instead of scoffing or brushing it off, she tilted her head thoughtfully. "Hm. I suppose that's part of it," she admitted. "I've always respected the strong. I've always sought them out. You could even call it a hobby. But…" Her lips curved, her tone dropping faintly as her red eyes slid sidelong toward Gretel. "…my interest is different here."
Gretel's brow furrowed. "…How so?"
The Oni's smile widened, casual yet sharp enough to cut. "Suppose I like finding cute boys more."
"What?"
"Especially the defiant ones," Shuten went on, nodding as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "They're usually the ones who are secretly submissive. It's… amusing. Charming, even."
Gretel's silver eyes widened, her face heating as the meaning settled in. "H-Huh… uh… maybe I shouldn't have asked." She shuffled half a step away, her shoulders tense, as though distance might shield her from the Oni's frankness.
Shuten only chuckled again. "No need to be bashful. A woman's interest is nothing to be embarrassed about."
Gretel groaned faintly, dragging a hand down her face. "Ignoring, um… all of that — and how young he is — I think we should… move on. Forget I asked." Her words tumbled quickly, awkwardly.
Shuten arched a brow, her grin widening with amusement.
"L-let's just head back to the village for now," Gretel mumbled at last.
Shuten pushed off from the tree gracefully, her expression still amused.
"…If you wish."