[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom Outskirts]
[Virelheim Mountain Village]
The room was modest in size but organized, its wooden walls insulated with old parchment. Stacks of books lined the shelves built into every available inch of wall. Diagrams of the animal anatomy, odd runes, and regional flora hung on the walls, some curling at the corners, others freshly pinned. Sunlight filtered through the small circular windows and a globe sat in the corner beside an old writing desk cluttered with ink pots, quills, and sheets of unfinished handwriting. It was, unmistakably, a place of learning—albeit one that carried the lived-in chaos of a village's only schoolhouse.
Mikoto quietly returned a book to its shelf. The spine groaned as he slipped it into place. His red eyes narrowed faintly at the title before turning away.
"All of these are just fairytales," he muttered as he glanced back over his shoulder.
Gretel, seated comfortably at the large central table piled with parchment and ledgers, barely looked up from the notes she was transcribing. She wore an absentminded smile. "That's how they always start," she replied.
On the floor nearby, sprawled across a carpet, the trio of children were deeply engrossed in a strange card game. The rules were nebulous to Mikoto, who had watched in vague confusion for several minutes, trying to make sense of the wildly inconsistent card values. From what he'd gathered, whoever slapped down the most 'dramatic' card seemed to win, no matter the logic.
Meryl—forever the sniffly one—slapped a card on the floor with a wet smile. "Heh. I win." She sniffled hard, rubbing her sleeve against her nose.
Andrew looked scandalized. "What!?" he yelped, staring at his hand of cards in disbelief. "I didn't know you still had strong ones left!"
Arabella leaned in suspiciously, eyes narrowing at Meryl's victorious grin. "Hey… are you cheating?"
Meryl shook her head vigorously. "No! It's called strategy, hehe."
Mikoto crossed his arms and leaned against one of the dusty bookshelves, unimpressed. "How are these brats supposed to learn anything from fairytales?" he asked flatly.
"Lessons come in all forms," Gretel answered lightly, her tone that of someone trying to sound wise. "Morals, hidden meanings, life philosophies. You just have to look past the surface."
Mikoto gave her a flat, unimpressed stare. "Right."
Behind him, the children were shuffling cards again—Meryl enthusiastically dealing them out with a humming little tune.
"Uhm," Meryl piped up suddenly, "Could we read the story about the Handmaiden again? I really liked that one…"
"Huh? No way!" Arabella objected, folding her arms and scowling. "I hate rereading stuff. It's so boring."
"But it's the best story," Meryl argued.
"Hardly," Arabella huffed.
"I liked the one about the knight and the princess," Andrew murmured, flipping through his deck with mild interest.
"Of course you did," Arabella shot back, "boys are so typical."
Andrew blinked slowly, not even bothering to argue.
Gretel sighed dramatically, tapping her pen to her chin. "Seems the children are quite divided here." She turned to Mikoto, eyes twinkling. "What do you think?"
Mikoto's gaze drifted over to her like he'd just been asked to solve a kingdom-wide food shortage. "Don't ask me," he grumbled. "You're the one who dragged me here."
"True." Gretel leaned back with a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know!" she brightened, clapping her hands together. "How about you tell us a story, Mikoto? You're clearly not from around here, and I just know you've got some fascinating ones tucked away."
Arabella's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! I did think her name sounded weird!"
"I'm still a guy, brat," Mikoto snapped without missing a beat, clearly irritated.
"And I'm not a brat!" Arabella shot back, red in the face.
"I'd like a story from Miss Mikoto…" Andrew mumbled shyly, looking away as soon as the words left his mouth.
Mikoto's eye twitched.
He exhaled a long breath through his nose, quiet and pained.
("I give up. No more correcting these snot-nosed brats on my gender... it's just not worth it.") His hand moved to his face and gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. This face really is a curse.
"Yeah! Tell us a story!" Meryl echoed enthusiastically.
"Fine." Mikoto said at last, walking over to one of the small reading chairs near the low table. He pulled it back with a faint scrape and sat down, his posture somehow elegant without trying, one hand cupping his chin. "As long as you all shut up while I think of one."
The room fell quiet, save for the rustle of Meryl excitedly adjusting her skirt and Andrew scooting closer with wide-eyed anticipation.
Arabella crossed her arms but said nothing, clearly intrigued despite herself.
Mikoto closed his eyes for a moment.
Somewhere deep in his mind, a memory stirred.
"Right…" Mikoto finally muttered, his delicate fingers drumming softly against his chin as he reclined in the wooden chair. "I'll tell you about some Oni."
"Oni?" Meryl repeated, carefully sounding out the unfamiliar word. She sniffled loudly, the mucus still stubbornly trailing beneath her nose.
"That's quite the ominous-sounding name," Gretel murmured, resting her chin on the back of her hand as her gaze settled comfortably on Mikoto.
Arabella furrowed her brows, tilting her head. "Hey, what's an Oni?" she asked, curiosity sparking in her wide eyes. Beside her, Andrew seemed just as perplexed, leaning forward as though physically trying to hear the explanation better.
Mikoto crossed his arms loosely. "They're yōkai. A kind of spirit. Or demon." He said it casually. "Ugly-lookin' bastards most of the time."
"Yōkai?" Meryl echoed, her interest deepening. "I've never heard of something like that before. Could you tell me more about them?"
Mikoto narrowed his red eyes slightly, exhaling through his nose. "Do you brats want a damn story, or a lecture on Oni?"
"I still want the story!" Arabella immediately chimed, sitting upright with renewed determination, her ginger ponytail bouncing as she did.
"Y-yeah, me too," Andrew quickly agreed, though his voice was a little quieter, a little more nervous, his gray eyes flicking from Mikoto to the cards in his lap.
Meryl pouted, clearly outvoted. But before disappointment could settle too deeply on her face, she felt the weight of a gentle hand atop her head. She looked up to find Gretel's easy smile.
"Chin up, Meryl. I'm sure Mikoto would be happy to tell you more later," Gretel said as her gaze flicked to Mikoto, daring him to contradict her.
Mikoto clicked his tongue. "Whatever." It was more surrender than agreement, but Gretel took it as confirmation. So did Meryl, who beamed.
"Fine, let's get this over with," Mikoto mumbled, shifting in his seat and tucking his legs up under him, resting his elbow on the armrest and cradling his chin with his palm. His gaze drifted lazily to the window, where the afternoon light poured in as he began.
"Once upon a time, there was a kind-natured demon who lived in the mountains. His name was Red Oni. All Red Oni wanted was to become friends with humans, to live among them peacefully in their village. But when the villagers saw him… they screamed. 'Here comes the demon!' And they ran from him in fear, every time."
Arabella's brows drew together. Meryl's mouth parted, listening intently. Even Andrew's fingers stopped shuffling his deck of cards.
Mikoto's voice lowered.
"One day, Red Oni told his story to his closest friend, Blue Oni. After listening, Blue Oni said: 'I'll go down to the village and cause trouble. You can come and knock me out. Then the villagers will see you're a kind demon, and they'll trust you.'"
"That's… that's really nice of Blue Oni," Meryl whispered, her fingers twisting the hem of her blouse.
"Red Oni didn't want to hurt his friend. He wasn't sure about the plan. But Blue Oni just smiled and went to the village anyway, started causing chaos. So Red Oni followed… and hit him on the head."
"'Come on, hit me harder.' Blue Oni told him."
"'I'm sorry,' Red Oni said. But he hit him anyway."
The room was silent except for Meryl's faint sniffle.
"After that, the villagers believed in Red Oni. They called him a hero. They welcomed him. He finally got to live the life he wanted—with friends. The village loved him."
Arabella's shoulders relaxed as though relieved.
"But one day… Red Oni started worrying about Blue Oni. He went to his friend's house in the mountains." Mikoto's voice remained even. "But Blue Oni was gone."
He let the silence hang long enough.
"On the door was a note."
Mikoto's gaze dropped to his lap, one slender finger absently tracing the edge of his boot.
'Dear Red Oni, I've gone away on a journey. I know that if I stay by your side, the villagers will grow suspicious. They'll fear you again. It's better this way. Goodbye. I'll always be your friend. Forever, your Blue Oni.'
Red Oni read the note. Over and over. And he cried. And cried. And cried."
Mikoto let the story end right there, snapping it closed like a book.
"There. The end."
The children stared at him, stunned, their little faces slowly registering the full gravity of what he'd just told them.
"H-hey, wait!" Arabella suddenly blurted, her expression scrunched in disbelief. "That was way too quick! And what's with that ending? Isn't it just… too sad?"
"Yeah…" Meryl mumbled, her hands folded tightly in her lap. "I feel kinda bad for the Blue Oni. He gave up everything…"
Andrew frowned, his hands now lying forgotten on the carpet. "Couldn't they have just talked? If the people saw them together and saw how kind they both were, maybe everyone could've been friends in the end…"
Mikoto snorted. He crossed one leg over the other, his dainty frame relaxing as his head lolled against his hand. "Because humans," he said plainly, "are a worthless lot."
The children blinked.
Mikoto's gaze was sharp as he slowly looked to Arabella. "Doesn't matter how nice something is, doesn't matter how pretty it looks. If it's different, their first instinct is fear. Apprehension. Hatred. It's wired into 'em."
Arabella frowned, her arms tightening around herself, but she didn't argue.
"And that's the lesson. Stories are supposed to have 'em, right?" Mikoto tilted his head, his snowy white hair spilling softly over his shoulder. "The Red Oni wanted too much. The Blue Oni was too kind. And in the end they lost each other because of their own idiocy." He clicked his tongue quietly. "Happy endings? Rare as hell in real life, brat."
Arabella's frown deepened, but she didn't correct him this time.
("He has such a strange way of talking about people…") Gretel mused quietly to herself, observing Mikoto's detached tone. ("Almost like… disgust. Or maybe something worse. Like he's already given up on them. But why?")
"So," Mikoto muttered, his red eyes half-lidded, "What does this story tell you brats?"
The children hesitated. It wasn't the kind of story that left you beaming. It left you thinking.
Meryl was the first to speak. "We should never abandon our friends."
Mikoto snorted softly, but it wasn't cruel. "How naive." He closed his eyes for a beat. "But not inaccurate, I guess." His gaze slid back to the wooden beams above. "Just be content with what you've got. If you already have it good… don't get greedy. That's a sin, after all."
His words lingered in the room, uncomfortably honest, neither comforting nor cruel—just the kind of truth few people were ever willing to say out loud.
And the children just sat with it.