Paper butterfly

Too restless to sleep the night—and still awake from the twelve hour nap—Atsunori spends the night training and sketching rough plans in his mind for the days ahead. He'll put them in order after meeting with the elders. No point setting them in stone yet.

By the time he notices, morning's already come.

Moving toward Avery's ward, Atsunori finds her sitting on the bed, already in street clothes.

"Hi, hi. Ready to go out?"

"It's a busy day for me, so let's keep this as short as possible."

"Umm… then we might have a problem."

"Why? I already told you the kind of favors I can provide, none of them should take more than a phone call."

"Well, I don't care that much about luxuries like a better suite, parties and all that. I've had plenty already. So instead, I came up with something only you can do."

"Which is?" I'm going to regret asking.

"You know how you caused chaos and mayhem for a ton of people during your game of tag yesterday? I was thinking maybe we could go out together and make it up to them one by one."

Silence stretches between them.

Tempted to protest, Atsunori swallows the urge, saying only:

"That's not possible. You'll have to think of something else."

"Eeeeh? Really? Don't you feel bad for the people you bothered?"

"I do, but I have more important matters to attend to."

"Well, then I guess…" Her voice falters, and for a moment her gaze drifts. Then she shakes her head. "No." She looks back at him.

"What?"

"You promised me a favor, and I don't see you as the kind of man to go back on his word. So I'm not giving up so easily."

Of all times, you have to be stubborn now.

Atsunori did say he'd do her a favor—but still, his family comes first.

"I can't. I have too much work ahead of me."

"Then… okay, let's agree on a compromise. There was that convenience store you ruined, and a guy you caused to crash his car. Let's just handle those two today and I'll let you off the hook."

If she saw the car crash, wouldn't she have also seen him transform? No. With how meddling she is, if she hasn't asked yet, it means she was too far away to notice. She must think the car dodged him and crashed somewhere else.

Regardless, her current request is much more manageable.

"Alright, I'll go check which room the person from the accident was sent to."

"We're going together, remember? There's no point if I'm not there."

"I don't get your reasoning, but fine."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few minutes later, both are on the way to the appointed room.

Atsunori has never thought about personally apologizing to the people he inconvenienced before. He hates causing trouble for civilians, and always tries to minimize damage, but going out of his way to make amends never crossed his mind.

Maybe I should start doing it…

They pass a pair of people in white coats transporting a bedridden woman, followed by a few patients able to move on their own. Then, turning a corner, a familiar face comes into view.

One of his cousins, dressed in a bright blue suit, standing right at the door they're heading toward.

"Excuse me, sir, we'd like to go in, please." Avery is already babbling out of turn.

"Atsunori, who's this girl? Does she have business with us?"

"It's a long story," Atsunori replies, then glances at Avery. "Do you mind leaving us for a moment?"

"Hmmm… alright, but you better not go in without me."

"I won't."

She dashes back to the corner from where they came, leaving his sight.

"I assume you're busy with one of my collaterals from yesterday." Atsunori says.

"Yes, my companion is convincing him to forget a big red ogre ruined his ride." He rubs his thumb and middle finger to convey the meaning. "All in all, not the hardest task we've gotten out of you field guys."

"I shouldn't let him see me, right?"

"It would kinda ruin the whole point."

"Yeah, I get it. Sorry for the hassle."

"It's nothing, you know we've got your back. Just make sure to swing by the elders later. They'll probably want to have a talk with you."

"I'm planning on it, don't worry."

Atsunori heads back to Avery, bracing himself to disappoint her.

I hope she doesn't dig her heels in this time.

Perched at the end of the next corridor, she sits on a bench, delighting a kid and his mother with a small magic trick: a paper butterfly that seems to float in her hands.

…

Is it actually a trick?

Fluently, Avery moves her hands around the butterfly, letting it drift as if weightless. The boy laughs, the mother applauds.

Atsunori frowns. No strings, no wires, just… hovering.

There's no way, right?

With a smile, Avery bids them farewell, handing the butterfly to the child. Closing the distance, his focus sharpens as he approaches her, and at the sight of him, she springs up, waving.

"Atsun! We ready to go?"

"I need to think about something. Can you give me a minute of silence."

"Ookay… not your weirdest request, I guess."

Beside her, Atsunori takes a seat, and closes his eyes. He breathes slowly, feeling every small current brushing against his skin, every ounce of energy that shouldn't be there.

A shiver runs over him—remains of magic, definitely. He isn't sensitive enough to discern the type, but there's no doubt Avery has been using the powers of a Yokai.

He opens his eyes, and looks at her.

"Something the matter? What did that man tell you?" she asks.

"Unfortunately, we can't visit. The victim is in critical condition."

"Really? Weird to put a guy at the door for that."

"But I also got a call, turns out I have a bit more free time than I thought. So after the convenience store, how about we hang out for a little longer, as compensation?"

"Sounds great, yay!" She throws a V sign, her smile as wide as ever.

Is there any genuine feeling behind it?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Atsunori straightens after his apology bow, and the clerk reassures him it's fine, even returning his wallet. Still, they encourage him to keep the money, Avery joining in on the pressure.

Since the clerk still doesn't give in, they settle for buying the most expensive premium meal he has, as well as a pair of phone cards. Avery insists on sharing the bill.

Helping for the sake of helping—or so she makes it seem.

Once outside, the streets bustle with people, each absorbed in their own affairs, wearing their own masks. After finishing the meal, Avery tries to drag him toward an arcade, as if she's already forgotten the task at hand.

For now, he follows her charade, holding back his own plan until the right moment. Inside, she immediately veers toward one of those fighting games popular with the boys, as if trying to cater to what Atsunori might enjoy.

He's never been good at this sort of thing, so he doesn't expect to do well. Yet Avery not only wins—but does so by a landslide. She performs so impressively that someone asks if she attends tournaments.

"No, of course not," she replies. "But my brothers loved these games so I had to learn too, just to give them a challenge. Though it seems someone here doesn't have brothers to train for." She glances at Atsunori.

"I don't."

"What about cousins? None of them play?"

Asking about his family—trying to learn more.

"I have a few, but most of them play outside with their friends." He shouldn't refuse innocent questions, as long as they remain innocent.

"Oh, like at school or in public parks?"

"Yes." No.

To steer her away from more proding, he casually reminds her that they were supposed to be doing something helpful during their outing. Before she suggests another distraction, he offers to guide her somewhere he knows.

"Like a community kitchen for the needy?" she asks.

"Something like that, yeah." His lips lift into a polite, hollow smile.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Step by step, he steers her towards quieter roads—from the main streets to secondary alleys. From bustling crowds to the occasional wanderer, their footsteps echoing faintly on the uneven pavement.

An air conditioner whirs above them. The walls are lined with faded posters and graffiti, most of the faces no longer visible. Rats scurry about, rustling through trash bags. The stench clings to his nostrils and scratches at his throat. No matter how many times he visits these places, he won't get used to it.

Avery, on the other hand, seems unfazed.

"The place is a bit low-key," he says to reassure her. "We use it to help the homeless."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Don't worry about me, I've been through worse alleys."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Picking up whatever needs doing. You know, organizing, serving, cleaning."

Not exactly the kind of work he'd expect to happen in a place like this.

A short while later, they arrive at an abandoned factory. Leading her to the back door, he lies that his friends will arrive with supplies, and that the place will soon flood with people in need of food.

With a small wave of his hand, he invites her to enter first. Streaks of sunlight cut across the dusty floor through high, narrow windows. As he closes the door behind him—and quietly locks it—the thud leaves a lingering echo. He turns on the lights. They flicker a few times, casting moving shadows before illuminating the vast, empty floor and its vertigo-inducing ceiling.

No dinner tables, no utensils—only bare concrete and the faint smell of rust.

"Too empty, no? Maybe we could've gone with your friends to help instead of coming here directly."

Even now, you pretend nothing's wrong. How much of it is an act? Is your whole personality just a lure to get close to the Munakata?

Doesn't matter.

It all ends here.