My New Routine Now… 💔

I swear, if I have to poke one more sacred seal with this stupid pole, I’m going to replace the floral incense in this very ritual hall with a fart one out of spite.

The barrier hums every time the talisman slips. The boy, helper boy, cat boy, fox boy, whatever you want to call him, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his glowing cage, looks far too pleased with himself.

‘It’s falling again,’ he says, in that singsong tone that makes me want to throw the pole at his head.

‘I can see that,’ I spit, stretching the bamboo stick as far as it will go. The charm flutters just out of reach. ‘Stop moving!’

‘I’m not moving.’

‘You shrugged too hard! Now it’s slipping off!’

He laughs, low and warm, and the sound bounces off the seals. ‘Melodette, if you just came inside the circle—‘

‘No.’

‘It would be easier.’

‘Also no.’

‘You don’t trust me?’

‘Not when you sparkle like an Edward from Twilight.’

He grins wider. ‘Your distrust is cute.’

‘Don’t call it cute. Hold still.’

The talisman finally slaps onto his shoulder with a satisfying smack. I cheer softly, then realize half the family is watching from the door, the windows, any crevice of the hall, pretending not to laugh.

‘WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MAKING A PLAN TO SEAL HIM?’ I shout clear enough for everyone.

‘WHATEVER HAPPENED TO YOU WON’T LET US SEAL HIM TO BEGIN WITH?’

Freaking Euffie…

Fox boy looks at me like he’d also want to hear the answer.

‘My dignity died two pokes ago… Don’t push me to embarrassment any further.’

The whole day goes like that: me poking; him teasing; the cousins whispering bets on how long before I give up and step into the circle.

I don’t.

Partly because Mother’s threat still echoes in my head, but mostlybecause… his eyes still flicker with that gold light whenever I get too close.

By nightfall the hall is quiet again. Only the wards and one tired lamp glow. I sit just outside the circle, knees hugged to my chest, fighting sleep.

He’s been watching me for a while. But more auiet now, none of the mischief from earlier.

‘Melodette,’ he says softly, ‘you really don’t remember me, do you?’

I blink. ‘Remember you? We met a few weeks ago when you arrived as a stray, remember that?’

He shakes his head. ‘Before that.’ Something in his tone makes the air colder.

‘When you were small,’ he continues. ‘In the mountains. You followed a cry for help.’

Images stir. half memories, half dreams. I remember being six, or seven, chasing a sound through the forrest, while my cousins shouted after me. It had sounded like a trembling child.

The path had crumbled under my feet, and I’d tumbled down a slope into a shallow ravine.
There, tangled in hunters’ wire, was a tiny fox-cat with white fur streaked in blood, its two tails bound together.

I’d cried harder than it had. I remember cutting it free with my hairpin, wrapping it in my cloak, whispering, It’s okay, you’re okay.

Then my parents’ voices, distant and panicked. Rush of footsteps, hands picking me up and passing me to warmth. When I woke the next morning, nobody had seen nor knew anything about the creature.

My breath catches. ‘That was… you?’

He nods, eyes shining gold in the lamplight. ‘I looked for you forever. You disappeared after that day.’

I press a hand to my mouth. The warmth in my chest hurts. ‘I thought you were just… just some wild spirit I dreamed up after falling into a trap.’

He smiles faintly. ‘Maybe I was. Maybe I became real because you cared.’

Silence stretches between us, heavy with something that isn’t just barrier magic and overlapping incense smells.

‘What do you want now?’ I whisper.

He tilts his head, pretending to think. ‘What indeed.’

His grin softens and did a cat “nya” pose. ‘Maybe… a kiss?’

My brain short-circuits. ‘A—what—no—absolutely—this is a warded hall and I am a pure temple maiden!’

He laughs, that same easy laugh from earlier, but gentler this time. ‘I’m joking. Mostly.’

I throw the bamboo pole at him. It bounces harmlessly off the barrier, and he catches it mid-air, still smiling.

‘Goodnight, Melodette.’

‘Don’t you ‘goodnight’ me after that—‘ Before I finish my statement, I am levitated into the air and through the doors, before it shuts on my face.

This must be his way of telling me go to bed… or being shy that he asked a kiss… seriously are all men the same? Even spiritual creature? All after one thing? SMH 

I inspect the walls around the ritual hall, contemplating locking everything with talismans and barrier scrolls, but decide that it is probably futile to lock a storm inside a room.

I walk back to the main temple area where I find everyone asleep, surprisingly. Even the maids and guards.

Must be this boy’s doing. Tomorrow I ask his name.

No amount of skin care I do tonight is removing the crease that has found home on my forehead.