Yukio had nothing to do but stare.
The boy before him was in no category his mind could comprehend. He looked maybe twelve—thirteen at the most—dressed like a boy who had raided a treasure chest for fun. A dented gold crown, flowing velvet clothes shimmering with threads of gold and silver, a necklace so big it would've been embarrassing for a rapper, and rings blazing on each finger.
And yet, here he was. Smiling like the punchline of a joke known only to him.
Michibiki, who had been so promptly flustered before, now bowed respectfully, her forehead close to the ground.
What's happening here? Yukio asked himself, uncertainty and distrust boiling like storm clouds in his mind. He glanced between Michibiki's hunched form and the boy, who floated about three inches off the ground as though gravity were nothing more than a recommendation.
".How do you know my name?"
Yukio finally asked, voice slicing with both confusion and wariness.
The smile on the boy's face widened, wider than was possible. He touched one finger to the horizon with a flourish, his crown bobbling in transit.
"Glad you asked!"
He announced, voice grandstanding, sing-songy, as though he'd been inhaling his breath the entire day in anticipation of this moment.
"I'm Fukui—the God of Fortune. Nice to meetcha!"
He outstretched a diminutive hand, holding the obvious expectation of a handshake to be offered by Yukio.
Yukio blinked. Blinked again. Then he made a slow step back, palms raised.
"Wait… you're saying you're a god?"
Fukui puffed out his chest, placing his fists on his hips with as much bravado as an Saturday morning cartoon character.
"Exactly! I'm the same god who washed you in all that good fortune tonight."
His voice dropped, ever so slightly, to something more contemplative.
"But, uh… your light had been brighter than I expected. And then—vanished. Flickered out."
Yukio remained silent in dumbfounded amazement. His incredulity wasn't even strong enough to be offended yet. He waved vaguely, words tumbling out fast and unbelieving.
"Then I get a fortune. Then I get hit by a truck. Then I wake up in heaven and I run into. what I imagine was a cosplayer. Now I'm being told the god of my good fortune is dressed as my little brother for Halloween. What is this, some kind of joke show from the cosmos?"
Michibiki gasped, her serene facade shattering into outrage.
"Dare you insult Lord Fukui? You don't even warrant—!"
"Pfft—ha! HAHAHA!"
Fukui doubled up in the air, clutching his stomach, his laughter ringing out like a hundred bells.
"A cosplayer! Michibiki, a cosplayer!"
He wiped at an eye, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yukio, buddy, you're killing me!"
Michibiki's face flushed red with outrage as she stammered in protest.
"Lord Fukui, I…I…"
"It's fine, it's fine."
Fukui waved her off with a lazy sweep of his wrist, still grinning.
"Relax, Michibiki."
She re-wrapped herself, bowing again, dignity reconstructed in fragments.
"Excuse me, Lord Fukui. I lost my temper."
"Yeah, yeah, no biggie."
The boy flipped in mid-air to look at Yukio again, the grin giving way to something more conspiratorial.
"Now… about you."
Yukio's eyebrow rose.
".About me?"
Fukui rubbed the back of his neck, no longer divine, all at once more like a teenager who'd smashed in a window with a baseball.
"So, uh… you recall that luck I gave you?"
"…Yes?"
Yukio delivered his words slowly, suspicion dripping from the word.
"Well, see."
Fukui scrunched up his face, his voice airy but culpable.
"I thought that because you hit it big at the casino, you no longer needed it. So I, uh… took it back."
".Took it back."
Yukio's voice was flat.
"Yeah. Except that I might have. accidentally stolen all your good fortune. Which, y'know, left you with nothing but bad fortune."
He shrugged self-consciously, his smile re-emerging like this was no big deal.
"And, uh… and then you got hit by that truck. Sorry, buddy."
He'd spoken so casually, so cheerfully, it was almost hilarious. Almost.
Yukio's face froze, every muscle trembling. One unhinged guffaw ripped from his lips. Then another. Within moments, his shoulders were shaking, his laughter silent, jagged, teetering on the brink of madness and rage.
"Are you serious?"
His tone was low, growling, threatening.
Then the dam broke. He lunged, fury blazing in his eyes.
"YOU LITTLE PSYCHO!"
But before he could lay a hand on him, Michibiki's arm flicked out. A crystalline wall erupted between them, translucent and glowing. Yukio's fists slammed into it with a muffled thud, the impact reverberating painfully up his arms.
He pressed his forehead against the barrier, eyes burning holes through it. Through Fukui.
The boy didn't flinch. He simply let out a long, weary sigh, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
"I get it. You're mad. Totally understandable. But hey—look on the bright side."
Yukio's teeth ground together audibly.
"…What bright side?"
"At least your money wasn't wasted!"
Fukui pointed out cheerfully, wagging a finger.
"You transferred it all to your parents before the accident, right? So… silver lining!"
Yukio's fists pounded the barrier again. His voice was a low growl.
Fukui ignored the murderous glare and shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Anyway, here's the deal. Instead of heaven, I've got another offer for you."
That made Yukio pause. His fury didn't vanish, but curiosity cracked through it.
"…Another offer?"
"Yep."
Fukui clapped his hands, floating closer.
"How about going to another world?"
The words hung in the void like a spark waiting to ignite.
"Another… world?"
Yukio repeated, tone flat.
Fukui's grin widened.
"Right! A whole different universe. One where things are a lot more exciting than, oh, say, spending all of eternity lounging in heaven. Think of it: fairy-tale worlds, creatures that only exist in books, races, cultures, adventures! Doesn't that sound a whole lot better than floating around playing harps all day?"
Yukio's eyes had narrowed.
"What's the catch?"
Fukui cocked his head.
"Catch? Pfft. No catch! Well…"
His smile didn't falter, but his voice turned mock-serious.
".Fine, fine, maybe a little one. Humans and demons have been at war for, oh, about 300 years. So if you want to leave, you'd be, y'know. starting life on the human side. Which is, uh, a bit unlucky for you."
"Sure,"
Yukio growled, rubbing his face with his hand.
"But hey!"
Fukui fell in mid-air, his crown slipping rakishly.
"No problem. If you take it, I'll give you a special gift. Something that'll give you a fighting chance to not only survive, but live. Because that's what I do. I'm the God of Fortune, remember?"
With a wave of his fingers, the barrier vanished, melting into thin air. Yukio stepped forward involuntarily, glowering up at the boy floating smugly above him.
"Just say the word, Yukio."
Fukui's grin was playful, almost daring.
"Put your faith in me, and I'll make it worth your while."
The challenge echoed in the empty expanse, heavy with promise and mischief.