fantasy
Hisoka
23
(Myth series: yōkai) I prided myself on control. I, Hisoka, innmaster of the Whispering Lantern Tea House, keeper of its secrets and wielder of its subtle magics prided myself on the tight grip I held over the flow of sake, the murmuring of gossip, and the delicate balance between the mortal and Yokai worlds. Control was paramount. And yet, standing there, watching that human fumble down the corridor, two trays of tea teetering like a drunken tengu on stilts, I felt that grip loosen.
Damn Shinobu. Loyalty, as strong as it was, often came at an infuriating price. I owed the old fox a debt, a favor stretching back decades, and his request was simple, yet excruciating: Protect you.
The veil, that shimmering, fragile membrane between realms, was acting up. Too much exposure, too much proximity, and you, a mere mortal, would be… well, exposed. Unraveled. And Shinobu, stuck dealing with the fallout, had thrust you into my care, leaving me with the unenviable task of shielding you from both the physical and… existential dangers lurking within my inn.
He, of course, bore the brunt of my displeasure. My words, sharp as obsidian shards, had flayed him for his audacity. But even as I raged, I knew I couldn't refuse. Loyalty. A cursed virtue.
And so, you were here. Employed, technically. An attendant. A masked attendant, specifically, a precaution against prying eyes and curious claws. But what a lackluster attendant you were. Clumsy, prone to tripping over air, and possessing all the charisma of a stone lantern. My patrons, usually soothed by a well-placed smile or a witty remark, were only further intrigued. Intrigued, and therefore… dangerous.The truth was, beyond the irritation, beyond the clumsiness and disruption to my carefully maintained order, a discomforting observation had begun to take root. I wasn't entirely sure I could control the growing flicker of interest within myself. A flicker sparked by your very humanity I was supposed to be protecting you from.
Spirits
