Chapter 2

A demon. But…demons aren’t real…right?

I can’t stop thinking about it, even when I’m on the train back to Tokyo. I was too drunk last night to interrogate her properly, and by the time I woke up (with a blistering headache to boot) Yukari was already gone. Now I’m left to stew in my own regrets, thoughts, and drunken memories.

Demons don’t exist. Especially not in this world.

Although, I’m too curious to dismiss the idea entirely. I’ve always been fascinated by other-worldly creatures, but it’s never been a diehard obsession. More like I’ve admired them from afar. I’ve never been one to assume they’re actually roaming the streets among us humans. (But I’ve never turned my nose up to stories with that kind of plot.)

Still…

What would it be like?

I spend the rest of the train ride lost in my own head. It’s still early in the day when we get back to Tokyo, so I stop in one of the many libraries sprinkled across the city. A bit cliché, but they’re bound to have at least some information on demons.

(And how to summon them—)

Besides, I don’t have Yukari’s number; she’s more Naomi’s and Mei’s friend than mine, and I’d feel weird asking Naomi for her number just to text her about this. especially if she was joking about the whole thing, making up stories to make a drunk girl laugh. I’d rather play it safe and not embarrass myself like that, if I can help it.

But most of the books I leaf through only provide summaries and origins. No instructions on how to summon such creatures. Then again, in retrospect, you don’t really want the masses trying to bring otherworldly beings into this realm. Even if they are real, who knows what kind of danger they could bring?

Suddenly I feel foolish standing there, sandwiches between two shelves with my arms filled with books. Maybe there’s nothing to this, after all. Maybe Yukari was just toying with me, not unlike Hina. Maybe I’m the idiot for falling for such an obvious prank in the first place.

There’s a sour taste in my mouth as I return the books back to their proper places on the shelves. It doesn’t leave even when I step out of the library, even when I’m halfway home. I’m too lost in my own head to even enjoy the sights of the city.

What was I even thinking? Falling for such a silly, obvious fib told to a drunken girl. Perhaps Yukari was just having some harmless fun, being the only sober one of our bunch. And I’m the idiot for falling for it.

“Ichika!”

The familiar voice yanks me out of my thoughts, and suddenly I’m left alone on the side of the busy street. I’m almost afraid to look over my shoulder, but the hand brushing against the small of my back forces me to face the newcomer head-on.

“H-hey, Shiro. What’s up?”

The blue-eyed boy smiles softly, his hand never leaving my back. My skin begins to itch beneath the pressure.

“You weren’t at work the last few nights, I was starting to get worried!”

“I…went to Kyoto. With Naomi and Sayaka.”

Shiro’s a nice guy on the surface. He’s always there to help you out when you need a hand, and he’s very kind to the customers at the store. But he has a habit of being a bit pushy… At least every other week he wants to hang out outside of work, and I’m starting to run out of BS excuses to give him. If he asked for all of us to hang out as a group, I wouldn’t be so against it; but more often than not, he singles me out and asks specifically for me to go with him to certain places and restaurants.

No thank you, I’m good.

The two of us stop at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. I squirm beside him—his hand is still on my back. I can feel it, even through the thick fabric of my jacket.

“Uh…this is—”

“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you free sometime this week?”

“I can’t, I need to work. I’m pretty packed.”

Not true, but I’ve told enough lies at this point to not feel guilty. It irks me when someone can’t take a hint.

His face falls, and the moment the light turns red I’m heading across the street. But he’s quick to follow me, his red scarf trailing after him.

“C’mon, maybe this weekend we can hang out? I know a nice restaurant we can go to for dinner.”

“Shiro, I really don’t—”

“Or maybe we can visit an arcade? I know how much you like them. I always hear you and Naomi talking about it.”

Okay, that’s kinda weird.

I’m desperate for a way out—and the last thing I want is for him to find out where I live. (I don’t want these conversations to follow me home from work every other night.)

“Oh! I forgot, I gotta pick up a few things for dinner.” Again, not true; I’m getting ramen later tonight. I just become the queen of lying whenever I’m around him. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay? Bye!”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t follow me down the next street. My fingers feel stiff around the strap of my bag. Sure, a part of me feels guilty for always blowing him off, but also…

Enough is enough!

Naomi tells me he’d be a great match for me, but I don’t really see it. To be perfectly honest…I don’t see myself with any kind of guy (or girl) in the near future. My life of solitude is just too good to give up.

Then again…

It’s like a dark cloud constantly hanging over my head. A big red label I can’t get rid of—one that everyone else can see and laugh at. I like being alone. I like being single. I…like being a virgin.

(Okay, maybe the jury’s out on that last one.)

Sometimes I wish I could just cheat a bit; lose it and be done with it, without all the messy consequences. No awkward hookups or pining or sleep-deprived text messages. All of the fun but none of the trouble.

Human trouble, at that.

I can’t stop myself the second that thought crosses my mind. Suddenly, Yukari’s words from last night are all I can think about.

Maybe there’s some truth to it, after all. And maybe…I’m just desperate enough to try it out.

🔥

I feel a bit stupid for the rest of the night, but at this point, I might as well see it to the end.

There are too many sketchy websites with different directions to follow, but all of them roughly say the same thing: if you want a crazy time among the creatures of the night, your best bet is an incubus.

Heart-stopping creatures that take the forms of male humans, they feed on feelings of lust and desire from women. A few of the pages I found share these experiences in detail; apparently, these incubi are quite infamous for their skill and debauchery.

Just what I’m looking for.

I pull the curtains shut, drowning my bedroom in darkness. The door is locked, the lights are off, and I’m dressed in the most risqué pair of pajamas I own: a white tank top and the tiniest pair of sleep shorts I’ve ever laid eyes on. I don’t own any actual sexy clothing, so it’ll have to do. It’s a bit chilly in here, but I’ll be under my blankets soon enough.

Hopefully I won’t even need them.

A hastily scribbled pentagram I drew in chalk rests against the floor. I place a cheap candle on each point before settling in the center. I grab the scrap of paper with the incantation and my initials; it’s supposed to be a talisman to summon the demon. I place it down in front of me with a smooth white pebble—and also a chocolate bar. (Apparently it serves as a sacrifice or offering to whatever creature you’re trying to summon.)

I just hope this works.

I clear my throat, cross my arms over my chest, and begin the incantation. My voice is shaky, words are probably mispronounced, but I do my best to keep going.

All the while, I try to focus on thoughts that an incubus might find appealing: I don’t have any experience. My sex life is non-existent. I can play along with any fantasy. I need a demon to do this for me.

Then comes the part where I’m supposed to speak my request. I take a deep breath, my eyes squeezed shut and my cheeks bright red. “I need an incubus to…” (I can’t say the whole thing) “…make me feel not so alone.”

In retrospect, I’ll probably regret this.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, nothing happens. The candles don’t even flicker menacingly. No ominous chill in the air or deep seductive voice behind me.

All for nothing, huh?

With a heavy sigh, I blow out the candles, scrub the pentagram off my floor, and crawl into bed. It’s hard not to feel like a failure as I take off my glasses and lay them on my nightstand. Oh, well. Guess it wasn’t meant to be, huh?

I stare up at the ceiling, counting spots and stains until my eyelids grow heavy. Eventually I end up falling asleep, still wearing my cutest pair of shorts.

🔥

The sound of chewing stirs me awake.

At first I think it’s part of my dream (thinking the family dog got into the snacks again), but it keeps going even when I open my eyes. I grasp the edge of the blanket, breath caught in my throat.

An intruder?

I turn my head just a bit—and nearly yelp when I see a dark figure in the corner. The chewing gets louder, along with the crinkle of plastic. A wrapper? Wait—is that candy?!

I bolt up in bed, hair frazzled and eyes wide, and get my first look at a real-life demon.

I didn’t expect it to look so human. It stares at me with deep red eyes that glow in the dark, its face twisted in shock and—wait, are those crumbs on its face? Sure enough, bits of chocolate are scattered around its mouth, and the half-eaten bar is in its long lanky hand. Its hair is black, messy but not unkempt, as though it just rolled out of bed. To be honest, it looks like one of my fellow introverts I knew back in high school—save for the large, red-tipped wings on its back.

My heart leaps in my throat. This is what I wanted, right? To summon a real, breathing demon? I can’t believe it actually worked.

Okay…now what?

Maybe he’ll take the lead? Isn’t that what they usually do in these kinds of scenarios?

I clear my throat and climb out of the blankets. Immediately the demon’s red eyes flash, and I hold my breath.

But instead of advancing towards me, he throws himself against the wall. His wings are flared out behind him, and now I can get a good look at the red and black horns curling back over his head. He bares his teeth menacingly.

“Cover yourself up, won’t you?!”

I pause, my hand outstretched towards him. I blink once, then twice. The demon keeps glaring at me.

“…Huh?”

“Y-your outfit, mortal! Cover yourself with something less…revealing of your figure!”

I glance down at my pajamas. All the important bits are covered, even if it’s a bit suggestive. “I…thought demons like this…?”

This time I can see a hint of fangs when he curls his lip back. “What did you expect of me, pitiful human? Why did you even summon me?!”

“…You’re an incubus, aren’t you?” Pretty self-explanatory, if you ask me, but whatever.

At this, the demon stiffens against the wall. His wings stutter, nearly knocking off the framed pictures on the nearby shelf. Suddenly, from the way he’s looking at me and the room around us, he seems to look much less confident in himself. Like he’s noticing his surroundings for the first time—and he’s just as confused as I am.

I clear my throat and try again; for good measure, I wrap one of the blankets around my shoulders. “If you are an incubus, I summoned you for a…special reason.” No need to get too far into it. “But if you’re not, um…did I mess it up somehow?”

“No, I…I am an incubus…”

“Oh, okay. …So…?”

Silence. The two of us stare at each other awkwardly. This is not sexy, alluring, or arousing at all.

Suddenly it hits me: He’s an introvert too!

“Um…so do you have any experience with—”

“No!”

Ah, figures. Of course the one time I try something outlandish and actually manage to summon a sex demon—and he turns out to be an awkward virgin just like me.

“Oh, um…okay then.”

More staring ensues. I tilt my head, focusing on the color scheme of his wings. Honestly, apart from the messy hair and ever-present scowl, he’s not half-bad looking.

Of course, that doesn’t mean squat when he’s got no interest in anything sexual. Y’know, the whole reason I summoned him in the first place.

What kind of incubus doesn’t like sex?!

“So… I can see this is uncomfortable for you. Me, too. Sorry for the mix-up. Ah, you can…leave if you want.”

The demon huffs and pushes himself off the wall. His wings unfurl to their full length, bat-like and leathery, fading from black to red like his horns.

“Like I need your permission, mortal.”

Then leave already. But I bite my tongue as I watch him from the safety of my bed. He waves a hand, and a curtain of shadow and flame peels back. If he hears my pitiful squeak, he doesn’t show any sign of it. As I hide beneath my mountain of blankets, with my head poking out like a child, he stalks toward the flaming gate with purpose. Miraculously, nothing in my room catches on fire.

The demon steps forward—and suddenly bounces back, as though he’s been burned. He lets out a string of curses in a language I don’t recognize before trying again. The black flames roar just out of reach; every time he tries to step into them, he’s repelled and sent stumbling backward.

Almost as if something is blocking his path and keeping him locked out.

Or locked inside…?

The whole situation would be rather comical, if I didn’t have an actual, breathing demon right in the middle of my bedroom. And if I didn’t have a wall of fire mere inches away from my precious bookshelves.

He finally roars—I slap my hands over my ears—and plunges himself towards the gate. His cry is nearly drowned out by the roar of the flames. His claws stretched outward, he grasps at the tendrils of shadow laced throughout the fire. But it’s no use as they all slip through his fingers. He tries to force himself through the gate, teeth bared and wings stretched out, but just like before the gate wins. Whatever power controlling it is no match for the demon, and suddenly he collapses in a puddle of black wings and scales.

The flames flicker out, the shadows dissolve into mist, and the gate vanishes altogether. And I’m left with a demon passed out on my bedroom floor.

I press a hand to my forehead, already feeling the prickling of an oncoming headache. So much for the summoning idea.