The Demon Queen

Daddy Douma's Lecture

"That Douma really is weird, Sakura," Gyutaro said to me the next evening as I sat with him on the porch while he ate some watermelon.

As if I didn't know, I thought and snickered to myself

"Why? What did he do?" I asked.

Gyutaro ate some watermelon. His face and chin were completely covered with watermelon juice.

He's making such a mess, I thought and almost rolled my eyes.

"Did you know that he's filthy rich with gold everywhere in that temple?" Gyutaro asked.

"Well yeah, I've been there often enough."

Gyutaro rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course you have."

I smirked. "So, is Douma a filthy noble?"

Gyutaro shook his head. "Nah. He's just a rich nutcase." He groaned. "I don't know how you can stand hanging out with him. He's annoying and likes to hear himself talk so much. Yap, yap, yap and he never shuts up." He ate more of the watermelon.

"Well, you are right about that."

"Then he thinks you're able to meditate and clear your mind when you're with a fucking headache from hearing his voice so much." He finished his watermelon slice and set the rind down on the porch. "I feel full."

"That's the first time I've heard you say that."

Gyutaro sighed. He inched backwards and lounged against the wall, a very pleased and satisfied expression on his face. He rested his hands on top of his stomach and closed his eyes.

"So, what else makes Douma weird?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"You're not falling asleep over there after stuffing yourself with watermelon," I said.

Gyutaro said nothing.

"It's too early to sleep, Fleabag."

"I'm not with fleas anymore. You've touched my hair, patting my head like I'm a little boy --"

"Like my little boy," I said with a smirk.

Gyutaro squirmed shyly in his position. "Nothing's jumped up on you from my hair, has it?" he asked a bit defensively.

"Not that I recall."

"Heh. So there." He opened one of his eyes, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a small smirk.

"So, what else did Douma do that makes him weird?" I asked. "It can't just be because he talks too much."

"You're really so interested, aren't you?"

"If I don't keep you talking, you'll fall asleep from stuffing your gut so much."

"I don't fall asleep so easily," he said and sat up straighter against the wall. "But I'll tell you. There's a lot to tell."

"Hmm, a lot, huh?" I remarked. I went over to the wall and sat next to Gyuutarou. My eyes remained locked on him. "Go on."

Gyutaro stared at me for a moment, slightly blushing from the closeness of our bodies. He then looked away from me and scratched his head. "Ehm ... so ..." he began. "Where do I start with this besides that Douma has a lot of mental problems."

I laughed a little. "Yeah. That's a good start."

"He gave me food that was more delicious than what we have here and I ate a lot, but he could get nasty and would hit me on the head with that damn fan of his." Gyutaro glared at me a little from the corner of his eye. "That thing hurts, ya know. He was whacking me with a battle fan." He sighed. "At least you don't use objects."