Cornfield Horror
When describing his association with Orochi, Hayato preferred the word "rival" to "friend". Certainly they were cordial enough to be friends, but ninety-nine percent of the time, any conversation initiated between them developed into a challenge of some sort. Magic. Potion-making. Calligraphy. Cooking. Orochi was just too mischievous, and Hayato too hard-headed for his own good.
Which was why he now found himself in the middle of a dark cornfield, with no idea of how to get back to the festival grounds.
It was Orochi, of course, who'd ruined it: Hayato had been more than prepared for a break from his arid homeland, and for a visit to Windmire's Fall Harvest Festival with Nyx, Hana, and Sakura. But then Orochi and her sneaky smile had shown up, and she'd challenged him to a contest in festival games. Whoever had the most wins before the pumpkin lightings at midnight would be forced into indentured servitude for the other for eternity.
Nyx had told him to say no — multiple times — but if he'd refused, Orochi would've called him a frightened child for the rest of the night, and she knew how much he hated that. So he hadn't a choice.
Still, now that he was out here in the dark and quiet, he'd wished he'd just swallowed his pride and gone with the others to the hay ride.
Idiot! Fool! Half-wit! Hayato cursed himself vehemently as he pushed through the endless bunches of cornstalks, gazing overhead at the stars and hoping to use them to keep himself oriented north. Unfortunately, cloudbanks thick with rain masked the sky tonight, reducing the moon to a hazy orb. Just his luck. Next, he'd probably find himself tripping over a—
A stick snagged the front of his sandal, and he went down, flattening a bunch of cornstalks. Snarling in rage, he ripped at the stems, yanking them furiously from the earth and hurling them aside. Unfortunately, that failed to make him feel better.
I bet she's already back at the pumpkin patch, reveling in her victory. They'd entered the maze together at the starting line, with Nyx behind them, acting as referee, but not long after they'd begun, their paths had diverged, Orochi going one way, him the other. She probably knew something he didn't, and he could see it clearly in his mind's eye, her reaching the finish line first: Orochi emerging from the cornfield, eyes brightening as she realized that she was the first to arrive; that smug smile decorating her face as she perched on the big pumpkin, waiting for him to fight his way out so that she could rub his loss in his face. Fury engulfed Hayato, and he found his feet.
"No," he grunted, fists clenched. "Not this time." The last thing he ever planned on being was Orochi's indentured servant for the rest of eternity: though she'd beaten him at the corn husking and treasure-in-the-haystack, he'd claimed victory in the apple bob and the corn toss. He was going to find his way out of this convoluted vegetable patch right now, and when Orochi finally stumbled out of the weeds and found him waiting, he was going to make sure that—
Growl.
—she addressed him as sir, and bowed in his presence, and—
Growwwwwl.
—fetched him...jujubes when...he asked...and...
GROWWWWWWLLL.
All right. Not hallucinating. Hayato's disbelief drained out into fear. That sound... An animal? A big one: it snarled low in its throat again, coming from somewhere nearby. It did not sound remotely friendly; in fact, it sounded as though it had just spotted a tasty piece of prey. Him, in other words.
Impossible. A monster, out here? It couldn't be: the only thing roaming the Nohrian countryside these days was the occasional Faceless, and their chains usually announced them before they even had a chance to get near—
