Milk and Mochi (Horohoro x Ren) | Shaman King

PROLOGUE

                                                                                H O R O H O R O

For a brief moment, I'm overcome by the dull feeling that maybe you didn't quite understand me. No reaction, no direct answer. As if I had just revealed myself to a wall.

Only a slight frown under your crimson strands indicates that your brain is working, that you're probably considering whether I'm just messing with you.

I can't blame you for it, at least. The fact that I just spoke that sentence out loud feels just as unreal and at the same time absolutely reckless to me.

"You're kidding me," you snort contemptuously, yet I think I can hear a hint of uncertainty in the darkest, deepest part of your voice. Your gaze is still fixed on the mountain range bathed in orange light that rises before us. Far too calm, almost too serene, considering the giant mess of chaos I just slapped across your face. If even the tiniest part of you believes my words, then this is a masterful act of deception. And, theoretically, you're just giving me the perfect opportunity to take back what I said.

Hahaha, you're right, funny of me, hahaha.

„No."

Maybe I should finally get myself a muzzle, because apparently, I have neither my head nor my stupid mouth under control. At least I could counteract the latter with some kind of gag and spare myself further stupidity. But it's too late now. When you finally turn your head towards me and look at me, I can feel the sudden heat rising in me and my chest tightening. Your facial expression is now somewhere between tense curiosity and nervous outrage. In any case, you suddenly don't seem as composed as you did just a moment ago. As if you couldn't believe how someone could be so incredibly stupid as to risk a friendship in this way.

Fuck.

The way you're scrutinizing me now, still suspicious and hesitant, I can assume that you still think, or perhabs even hope, to find signs in my face that suggest a joke. A stupid, harebrained joke that should have remained just that. But unfortunately, I can't serve you with that. Instead, I feel the flush rising to my cheeks and I wish I could just sink into the ground.

This is not a joke, no.

And I, being a complete idiot, just ensured that it becomes real.

"Sorry," I burst out because I can no longer bear this goddamn silence between us, and I jump up from the bench onto my feet.

"I, ah ... that wasn't planned like that."

It really wasn't, but something in my walnut brain apparently made me think that this was the perfect opportunity for mawkish shit. While Yoh, Ryu, and Manta were still loading up on snacks and sake at the shrine, while, for a few minutes, being alone on the platform for a change. The setting sun over the mountains in front of us, in the background the gentle festival melodies and chatter of the strollers and temple visitors.

I'm not romantic at all, but I guess the crappy alcohol is doing something to me.

Nervously, I rock back and forth on my feet, not knowing where to put myself. The damp tall grass that finds its way through the openings of my wooden geta feels uncomfortably cold and wet on my feet. Immediately, I tighten my kimono around my burning hot upper body. As if that could even remotely protect me from what's coming.

By now, you've lowered your gaze, probably because you don't know what else to do. But the dim light is still enough to see that you're struggling with yourself, that you absolutely don't feel like celebrating anymore. If you ever did today. Your arms are firmly crossed over your chest, your fingertips seem to be desperately digging into the flowing fabric of the kimono. The tiny glimmer of hope for a possible mutual feeling that I initially had is officially gone now.

"I don't know what to say," your voice suddenly sounds scratchy. But even now, when I've rarely seen you so meek and bewildered, I still look like a picture of misery next to you. The most pathetic, little piece of misery that can currently be found in all of Tokyo, possibly.

"Something would be a good start," I croak in agony.

By now, it feels like someone is strangling me. The aggressive pounding in my chest will probably drive me insane soon if you continue to leave this situation uncommented.

Then I hear you suddenly inhale sharply next to me.

„Okay."

I lift my head in relief because all I want is a quick end to this misery, whatever it may look like. But when you look at me, I already know your answer without you having to say it.

And then I don't want to hear it anymore.

What on earth made me think that our eternal arguments and insults were also your damn coping mechanism because you couldn't express your feelings differently?

"No sake for you next time, idiot. It'll make you babble even more nonsense than you already do."

What?

I try to swallow the huge lump in my throat, but I can't. Thoughts race through my head because I absolutely don't understand what you mean by that. But your gaze is so penetrating and serious, as if you want to confirm to yourself that this didn't just happen.

That it's not real.

"Got it?"

Your amber eyes seem to nail me down, so piercing is your gaze. Nailing me down to a mutual agreement that nothing has happened here that could have jeopardized our relationship. I should probably even be grateful to you for your statement. Grateful, because you're saving our friendship, which I almost destroyed with my impulsive, thoughtless, stupid statement.

Yes, I should.

And then I nod and force myself into a stiff smile.

„Totally got it."