** (c) to original owner for cover photo.
A/N: As the plot bunny once told me, "Put Magi characters in the modern world." Anyway, enjoy~
I
[Unorthodox Encounter]
The alarm beeped. Once then twice.
Her hand was drowsy, crawling out from under the blanket and reaching out in all directions in search for the button to silence the noisy thing. Ah, found it, she gave the clock a strong smack that it produced a strained scream, until it finally became quiet under her palm. She was never fond of mornings, she damned it. Definitely not someone you'd like to meet before her daily caffeine intake.
Though she wasn't fully awake, she mechanically sat on her side of the bed and pushed out a low yawn from her lips.
See the woman. She was thin and fair as light, kind of like one of those unhealthy models afraid of food but not. Despite the image, a flowery tattoo crawled at the small of her shoulder then down to the side of her arm as if it were alive and growing prettily on her skin. It was yellow and bright, a color for happiness. But happiness didn't reflect in her eyes.
She stared quietly on the floor, her clothes from the previous night pooled around her feet. Heavy eyelids blinked a couple of times as she wiggled her toes on the soft furs of the carpet, the drowsiness slowly leaving. Then she picked up her shirt and caped it on her shoulders.
Sunlight poured through the window, scattering a golden glow into the room. Beyond the clear layer of glass, she turned her head to glimpse at the far lake, with her hand serving as shade from the brightness.
Little bits of buried memories returned to her — the fresh scent of the waters and its seemingly bottomless depth where her had body sunk was especially vivid in her mind. It was like being touched by a different world. The darkness and silence had embraced her as white bubbles had burst out of her mouth, and the water hushed her, it was salty. Like tears.
The sound of blanket shuffling behind her almost made her skin jump, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was followed by a womanly groan that resounded in the room, mumbling something like a complaint.
Low lidded eyes peeked at the voice, dark hair falling onto them. "You'll be late for work, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. How about it?"
A woman slowly rose from interrupted sleep, head popping out of the sheets. With her hair gold to its ends but black to its roots, a hint of an old dye job. Then, she mumbled something inaudible again as she stretched her arms above her head.
"I didn't get the chance to ask, what happened to your hand?" She pointed at the tattooed woman's hand with a feline smile and a nose to sniff out little mysteries, there were small blotches of paint staining along the knuckle and a neatly wrapped band aid around the forefinger.
"Work."
"I see," the blonde vacated the bed. She dressed herself in her alcohol scented cocktail dress. "Hey —"
"Lock the door on your way out."
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She leaned against the counter, sipping her hot coffee as she watched the blonde shut the door without tossing her a look and goodbye. It was fine, she preferred endings that way. No red strings attached to anyone. People tended to become just memories for her anyways.
When the last drop of caffeine melted on her tongue, she moved to the living room to watch the morning news. She sunk on the softness of the couch, turning the TV on with her eyes already rolling at the frivolous headlines about scandals of celebrities these days. The media loved petty gossips than actual news for the public eye and to think some people actually called it entertainment. She differed, the weather was more interesting.
"Tonight, a lunar eclipse will occur. Good news for sky watchers…" said the reporter, followed by a commercial that became soft background sounds as she leaned her back into the puffy cushions, closing her eyes shut.
Sometimes, solitude was beautiful.
Though it would break her heart, she once entertained the idea of selling her home, which was previously her family's old vacation house. To move overseas as dusts and sooth only lived in it before. And for the reason of no longer seeing so many familiar faces and other faces, but when she thought it through again, she shut down the idea.
With the remaining income she had, she put all her money into redesigning the two-story home herself. She did the contemporary-styled sketches and some of the paint jobs. The structure was ancient itself, so ugly and crumbling on the inside, like a haunted house. So first, the few patches and holes were hid behind new abstract paintings and furniture.
The first floor was turned into a carpeted open living space, with the kitchen separated by a tall bookshelf, and was done in mix of dim and pinch of dark colors. Upstairs was styled with the same color scheme, with three bedrooms, each having individual bathrooms, on one side of the spacious hallway, and the small studio and storage room on the other. The house mostly consisted of glass walls, where at least one bird would fly onto it. That aside, she liked the wide view on sunset and her neighbors, which were trees. But today, with her current job, she would never afford the slightest luxury. Not that she didn't have the passion for her own livelihood, she was at least satisfied with the result of the house.
After all, living in a larger house wouldn't guarantee happiness — it was the company of a precious little thing on two legs.
The sound of the doorbell echoed through the walls until it reached her, she stood and went to open the door. She knew who it was and she was never wrong.
Looking down, Rico stood, the car behind him already driving away, and with the same toy duck he carried around since she bought it for him. He was almost never seen without it.
The boy smiled a toothy smile, a few teeth missing in the front exposed, as he hugged the knees of the woman, "Hello!" he exclaimed excitedly.
She ruffled his hair and returned her nephew's smile, "Good to see you too."
The tiny boy lifted up his toy for her to see, "Nana, chicken, here." His speech was still delayed, speaking in broken sentences most of the time. It was the result of playing alone back in his home and she did her best to hide her frustrations for his grandmother in front of him.
Instead, she giggled softly and placed Rico within her arms, bringing him to the living room. "No, no. It's a duck," she'd always say but the kid seemed to be fixated on whatever he called his toy.
His eyes were already glued on the flat-screen TV as the channel was switched to a colorful cartoon and she sat beside him. Cartoons were the last thing she'd watch for the rest of the day, but with the boy and at that moment, it was her favorite.
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Rico yawned after stepping out of the bath, his hair was properly dried and his body smelled of fruit. Night quickly bit the day and she was glad, the warmth was much worse in the afternoon. Nothing was more infuriating than clothes sticking to skin and a throat as dry as a desert.
The July heat was just beginning, but it was time to surrender for the night.
She put the boy into bed, made sure there were no monsters lurking about the closet beside him, and left the night light on for him as his toy duck was no longer enough to accompany him in his sleep.
"No," his eyes went round when the door to his room was about to be closed.
"Sorry," she said, not shutting the door completely. The sliver of light from the hallway was added to the kid's source of comfort.
She smiled to him as he began to close his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
The very moment Rico was cradled in her arms as a baby, his tiny fingers wrapping on hers as if he'd never let go, and muttering 'Nana' as his first word, she knew she loved him instantly. She had always wanted to be a mother after all, but certain circumstances delayed that role for her, and not that she was rushing, time was still plenty. Nonetheless, she was glad the boy was there to somehow fill a void in heart and warm it with sweet smiles and hugs.
Before going to bed, she went downstairs to watch some late night shows and throwing herself on the couch, she felt something on her back. Reaching for the thing, she found it was some kids' magazine.
It was that time of the month where toys were percents off to their actual price and called it on sale, businessmen's tactic, she'd say. She couldn't forget.
With a bit of courage, she turned the shiny pages to the toy section — she shut her eyes first, then flickered one open to peep and she flinched at the amount of red circles on it.
Her nephew was spoiled, she knew that too and it was her fault, she couldn't help but pour the entirety of her world, both financially and not, to someone who was not even her son. The boy was her cornerstone.
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The TV blared with music and annoying sound effects as midnight struck, her head already swaying from side-to-side looking for a pillow to lay on. But, as she was in the middle of sloppily landing on the couch, a powerful sound of a crash abruptly intruded like profanity to her ears.
It came from upstairs.
Her hands and feet went cold despite the now heavy perspiration on her skin, her lips trembled like a leaf, and her heart felt like it popped out of its rib cage as she stood and faced the ceiling in disbelief. She could tell she was already white when she sprinted upstairs, not caring for the rise of the steps — she tripped twice for it — she continued to run regardless of the blood dripping from her knee.
She stopped at the far end of the hallway, in front of Rico's room, because there was a voice of a man on the other end. Then there was silence for a brief second, her heartbeat got loud enough to be heard the more she was tormented by the unknown in front of her, and her insides were reduced to a mush of anxiety. She swallowed, the brightness from the night light flickered and dimmed despite being new, as her hand wrapped itself on the knob of the barely closed door, and she twisted it carefully.
What unraveled before her was the source of the voice. A tall figure in the middle of the room, standing and observing her like a prey with his ablaze crimson stare. She didn't dare take another step while she momentarily reflected that she should had at least taken a knife from the kitchen. Careful, she reminded herself.
The dark veil of the eclipse emptied from the sky, casting its silver glow through the crumbling hole of the roof, finally illuminating the form of the strange man in red. The floor was spattered of small debris and broken furniture, and dust and smoke were settling down around him. She could only blink at the dangerous sight of him, but there was a sliver of moment when she admired his enchanting form.
This man looked as though he leaped out of an ancient painting as his keen gaze pinned her down steadfast, further restricting any movement she was about to do.
As if the slightest twitch could snap her neck.
A surge of questions infiltrated her disturbed thoughts. Who on earth was this man? Why was he here? How would she pay for the roof damages?
Then her muted stare fell from his intense expression then onto what — or who he held in one of his arms. And her eyes immediately swam in tears.
It was Rico.
He spoke condescendingly with an unknown tongue, at the same time, directing the tip of his sword to her face. It looked sharp. Real sharp. Like she was the threat he was protecting the boy from.
"Nana!" Rico brightened and bounced like a puppy, he reached for her but she still couldn't find her voice to call to him.
Looking steadily at her and giving a quick nod, as if confirming something, the mysterious man quickly kept his sword and took deliberate steps towards her. He handed the child to her, towering on both of them with an unchanging expression on his face, speaking again in an unheard-of language and she responded with incoherence.
When she was somehow able to organize a bit of her thoughts, she mustered up some strength to ask, "Who are you? I... I'm calling..." she dropped the last words of the sentence into a mutter because he gave her a quiet questionable look. His head was slightly tilting to the side. "Can you speak Japanese?"
Once again, silence.
"Can you speak English...?" she asked again, assuming that he must be a foreigner, and then taking a safe step back. She felt her life span was growing shorter the more she was under his looming form.
And again, he didn't say anything, but she could tell he was concentrating on the questions dropped.
Knitting his brows together, he said something to her and stopped halfway, probably figuring out that she wouldn't understand him too. And this time, she shook her head then noticed Rico listening intently to them, she squeezed him securely in her arms.
Although on his next attempt at communication, he had made on emphasize on the words, "Kouen Ren," he said with a hand on his chest.
At this moment, she only nodded her head, acknowledging that was his name, and there was one thing she became very interested in doing — make Kouen leave as soon as possible. Safe and sound. So she had him follow her downstairs, but of course, she maintained at least a meter distance from him.
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He stood behind her, still watching her every unique move while she looked for her phone in one of the drawers of the living room. The noise the TV provided was not helping calm her nerves. She refused to put Rico down for even a second as her arm was begging to. Not while the weird cosplayer, to add, the one who caused her unnecessary expenses for the month, was still in her home.
"RASENGAA—"
The TV behind her was strangely silenced, its remote was on the couch as she remembered, and not in her hands. There was that strange sound of something falling apart too as she finally got hold of her phone.
She turned around.
The TV — or what was left of it, was in half and dead on the carpet. Kouen stood next to it, glaring and growling something at the result he had done and with his sword already sheathed. He eyed every single thing in the room, anything that moved or produced a sound, with fury, and most of all— confusion. He seemed like a caged animal.
Did he not know what he just destroyed?
Probably.
No one would be that shocked of an animated scream and swat it like a fly with a sword. And why did he even have a real genuine sword in the first place?
It became one of those moments wherein she was no longer sure on how to react, everything was happening lightning fast for her to catch on. Maybe, she thought, she still hadn't woken up from a nightmare yet. But the stinging pain on her knee was too real.
"... We'll see about getting you a car." No doubt she was a volcano about to erupt but she tamed her rage with a crooked smile. She didn't care if he wouldn't understand what she said. She didn't have the time for guessing games and the right amount of patience to deal with the guy.
"Down, down," Rico pestered, struggling so much that she couldn't properly dial numbers. Worried that he might fall off of her arm, she placed him down and he immediately ran to Kouen happily. He likes him...? She shook her head off the unnecessary and focused on the vital task at hand, while at the same, slipping a glimpse on Rico who sat with the man on the couch while she waited for an available driver to pick up.
Her heart became happy too when someone finally picked up on the other end, "Hello... I have a man here. I believe *Akiba would want him back." While she elaborated her address, she sneaked a look at the two again. Kouen showed no signs of hostility towards them, fortunately. He just seemed to attack objects he was not familiar with.
Rico was shoving his precious toys at the grown man's lap who now wore a calm analytic expression with the colorful objects he was seeing. Her nephew had always been a shy one, he didn't like other people. But he liked her and he liked him. He was laughing and continuing to show off his stuff to the stranger of the house, he was having fun with someone who was not her.
She hung up.
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Denying hospitality to a guest, no matter the trouble they caused, was just not her.
Only now she blamed that nature of hers.
She walked the 'guest' to the bathroom after a prepared midnight meal for him. The air inside smelled of fresh fruit and soap, but now wasn't the time to appreciate the fragrance. He stood next to her, sweat moistening his layers of clothes, that now hugged the muscles hidden underneath. She thought he'd reek like a wet gym rat but he didn't, his scent was what she could only describe as a mix between wine and freshly chopped wood, or something else... It wasn't unpleasant, at least.
And she had a plan. She extended her hospitality and provided Kouen a chance to stay for the night, out of love and respect for her nephew's odd wishes. Sunrise was hours away, fortunately. That was it.
He's done enough damage. She thought bitterly.
They stood quietly for moments. She was thinking, as her bare feet absorbed the cold of the tiled floors underneath. If he didn't know what were electronics he shouldn't attack was, surely, he'd know what a bathroom was, at least. Perhaps?
Or not...
She showed him her set of shampoo, body wash, and soap. He just raised a brow and stared at her as if he'd touch none of it.
Unless... He wanted a demonstration. She sighed and gathered a towel from one of the cabinets, "Your shield," she said and handed it to him. Then with her foot, she swiftly slid a small stool from under the sink and settled it in front of him. With a deep breath drawn from her lungs, she stepped forward, closer to him, with the stool the only thing that separated them.
This was a one time thing. It better be.
Kouen watched as her hands fell on the fabric of his clothes, and he gave a look of a quiet authority she wasn't supposed to touch so easily.
"It's all right," she soothed and slowly, his shoulders lowed and relaxed. It's like appeasing a large dog.
One by one, she disrobed him of his clothes and gestured him to sit down, his strong and broad back faced to her. Of course, this odd scene wouldn't pass without her pondering why she was with the man who put a hole in her roof and hacked her TV in two. She guessed strange people attracted strange people too.
With that, she squeezed the fruity shampoo on his hair.
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*Akiba - short for Akihabara, known as a place for otakus with its collection of Japanese anime and comics, shops selling idol goods, maid cafés, and cosplay.
Thanks for reading~
