Cracking the mask

The lights flicker for a moment. Her vacant smile persists as she looks at him, hands clasped behind her back, posture slightly tilted.

"Atsun, you there? Lost in the clouds?"

"How about you drop the act already?"

"Hm? I'm not sure I follow."

"By now you must've realized what's going on. You're not that dense. In fact, you're more clever than you let out."

"Well, thanks, but I really don't get what you mean by act. Mind explaining?"

"Enough playing dumb. I know you have a Blessing, so I'd suggest you start talking while I'm still willing to listen. Unless you'd rather do this the hard way."

That seems to get through to her—the fake smile finally drops.

Or so he thought.

"Sorry, I still have no idea what you're talking about. And honestly, you're starting to scare me a little."

The understatement pricks like a thorn. How much longer is she going to keep mocking him?

She has a Yokai Blessing—that much is certain. Only family members carry one, and any family trying to sneak an infiltrator in like this can't be up to anything good.

Outwardly, the Munakata might get along with neighbouring families, but Atsunori knows better. Beneath the surface lies a quiet war of information, even if it's not his duty to take part in it.

Whatever the case, your feigned innocence is starting to get on my nerves.

"Last chance. Tell me which family sent you, why, and anything else I might find useful. Talking isn't my strong suit, and you don't want to see what I am good at."

A step back as worry twists her face—another mask.

"Atsun, I think there's a misunderstanding here, but I might be starting to get it. When you say Blessing, is it related to those ghost-like beings? Because after I fell in that temple place, I met one. It didn't say anything about blessings, though. And if this is about that magic trick I did with the kid, I swear I still don't know how I did it. It just… happened."

These sort of excuses are actually disappointing. You'd think someone like her would have come up with better ones. But she probably got so confident in her act she didn't plan for this moment.

Every ounce of frustration she's drawn from him channels through his muscles. Flesh swells, cloth rips, and Avery recoils at the sight of the Oni. But instead of transforming herself, she just reaches into her bag.

"Atunori, please!" The words burst from her. "I swear I'm not lying! Just let me explain. I get that you think I'm some sort of spy or something, but I know you're not a bad man. I'm begging you, just listen to me."

A possibility intrudes: maybe her innocence is real.

But what proof is there of it?

Her words and pleading? Atsunori has seen men beg and lie—the last time he trusted one, it blew up in his face within a day.

She's also sharp—too sharp—yet plays a clueless brat. If that isn't a sign of a manipulator, what is?

And that martyr act of hers. Helping strangers at the cost of her own well-being? That only makes sense for something important—family. And she says she does it for random people, for nothing in return?

Please. If you cared that much you'd be in a third world country breaking your back for the poor—not in Japan of all places.

"I'm going to rip that mask off, whether you like it or not."

As he lunges, an item emerges from her bag—he slaps it away before she can use it. And although he pins her wrist, she slips out of her jacket and wriggles free.

Darting toward the door, she finds it locked. Still, catching her neck proves impossible with her almost inhuman agility.

Another proof of her powers.

Still running, she reaches into her bag again.

What now?

But her hands come out empty. Instead, her fingers stretch for the weapon on the floor—a stun gun. Atsunori tackles her, slamming her to the floor. The taser skids out of reach again.

Pinned, she cannot possibly overpower him now.

"It's over, no more ru—"

"STOP! PLEASE!"

Only now does he really look at her face—eyes wet, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks, her jaw trembling. Hard to believe this is the same girl who was smiling at him just minutes ago.

Thrashing erupts beneath him, desperate but powerless, like many before her. Same routine as always—yet something in him revolts at the sight.

Is it because she's a girl? That shouldn't matter. Atsunori swore to eliminate any threat to the family—gender isn't part of the equation.

But… is she even a threat?

Stop overthinking, damnit.

It's not his place to determine her honesty. If she refuses to talk, a specialist will handle it—within a week they'll have the full truth.

But if she is innocent… what then? What will he do after dragging her through everything a proper interrogation entails?

Without realizing it, his grip slackens—and Avery slips one hand free.

"Stay put you—" A searing pain tears through his eyes. "Agh! Fuck, what the hell did you do?"

His vision burns white, and he starts coughing, his throat itching as if ants were crawling inside.

Pepper spray? Was this what she tried to pull earlier? Then why hesitate? And if not, what else does she have?

The pain fades quickly as his body mends itself. When his sight returns, Avery stands a few feet away, pointing the stun gun at him. Her hands shake so violently she might drop it at any second.

Can one really fake that?

And why would she? If she truly meant him harm, she would've used it by now. She hasn't even drawn on her powers—no magic, no transformation, nothing.

But it's still all too convenient. This girl approached him out of nowhere with a flimsy excuse about wanting to help, and by sheer coincidence, she then met a yokai who decided to grant her a blessing—for no reason at all?

Unlikely, yes. Yet if his grip hadn't faltered, she wouldn't have escaped. Actually, he could've easily knocked her out then and there, and she'd have woken up strapped to a chair, faced with the worst days of her life.

It just makes no sense to take the act this far.

So… there's only one explanation.

"I made a mistake."

The words leave his mouth along with his strength. Muscle and mass recede, the transformation reversing.

Immediately after, the taser hits the floor, followed by Avery's knees, and she starts sobbing into her palms.

With every whimper she makes, Atsunori's throat tightens a little more, his stomach knotting as if he's swallowed something rotten. The pounding in his chest grows stronger each second, hammering against his ribs like it's trying to break him from inside. An urge brews within—to hit himself, to punish the beast responsible for this—but any movement would only frighten her more.

Seriously, what is wrong with me?

How could I do something like this to a pure, bright girl like her?

Opening his mouth, words refuse to come out. He worries his very voice might startle her. Regardless, Avery deserves at least some apology—something that shows his regret without causing her more harm.

What comes to mind is an act he hasn't done in decades, a gesture he only performed once before. Putting his hands down, Atsunori kneels, bows low, and presses his head to the cold floor, determined to stay like this until the weight in his chest begins to ease.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

"I-I… I'm better now," she says, voice still shaky. "You can… lift your head."

No movement comes from him.

"I'm truly sorry. I have no excuse for going this far."

"No, no, I-I get it. I know your job is rough, and sometimes you have to take harsh measures against dangerous people. But it's fine, really."

"Nothing about it is fine. I am the dangerous one, I just proved it."

"You're not. You were just confused. It happens to anyone."

"How can you not despise me after what I did?"

"Because you had your reasons… and I know your intentions were good."

Why?

How can someone be so… understanding?

Atsunori was deaf to her pleas, dismissed her side entirely, yet she's already moving on, almost about to forgive him.

Slowly, Atsunori raises his head. A faint, trembling smile greets him, still framed by cheeks smeared with tears.

"I…" words won't come, the sight of her dries his throat.

A sniffle, then she wipes her eyes.

"If you really feel bad about what you did, then let's just say you owe me another one now, hehe."

Her acting returns, now forcing herself back into a cheery attitude.

This time, however, he welcomes it. The fabricated warmth soothes the burning urge he has to punish himself.

After another forced chuckle, she clears her throat.

"So, now that you seem willing to actually listen, let me tell you a bit of my side so we can flush out the misunderstandings, okay?"

"Okay…"

And with that, her radiant smile returns—as if it had never left.