Chapter Text
The man sat back in his stool, crossing his arms proudly over his chest. He lifted a finger towards the bartender, who shook his head, but turned to pour him another beer anyhow.
Okumura still had his cheek smushed against his hand. “And that’s it?”
The man nodded sagely. “That’s it.”
“You came all this way to tell me that story?”
The man nodded again. Okumura figured he would stroke his beard if he had one. Okumura was used to strange travelers coming into town and sharing their stories, but this had to be one of the weirdest of them all.
“And where did you hear that one? From a singing bear?”
The man’s eyes widened. “Have you seen a singing bear?”
Okumura rolled his eyes and got up to return to his work. The bartender pushed the mug forward, and Okumura presented it to the man. “Thanks for the tale, I guess.”
Another traveler, one who had sat so far away Okumura hadn’t realized he had been listening, leaned forward. “You know, that’s not really what happened,” he said to Okumura in what he supposed was supposed to be a whisper, but he must have been too drunk to control volume.
“What do you mean that’s not what happened?!” the teller proclaimed, jumping up from his seat and sloshing his beer around. “That’s exactly what happened! I would know!”
The second man shook his head, slumping down in his chair. “Nah, nah, nah. It didn’t make any sense. First of all, what did the fairies do with that magic?”
“They didn’t tell—”
“Second, why introduce the fairies at all? They didn’t seem to have anything to do with it. And don’t get me started on the trolls. What a useless plot device; just have the fairies kidnap them!”
The teller stormed forward, getting right up into the space of the man who was, of all things, grinning—
“And third, the prince? He was way more annoying.”
“He was not!”
The crowd by now had dispersed, waving their hand dismissively at the story, or laughing about it amongst each other. Okumura wished he could disperse too. Instead, he was going to have to try to end this fight before it could start. As much as he would have liked the annoying storyteller to get punched, he liked having a job much more.
The storyteller had the man’s shirt bunched in his fist and was shaking him around. The man, surprisingly, was still grinning. He lifted a hand to put it over the storyteller’s—presumably to pull him off—and that’s when Okumura saw it. A pair of matching golden rings.
“So…” Okumura stepped in. “What happened to them?” Both men froze. “Did they—” Okumura tsked. He hated the term, but it was a popular ending amongst storytellers, so he might as well use it. “—live happily ever after?”
The two men exchanged a look that seemed to speak, as only the gazes of those who have known each other for a very, very long time can. Okumura felt suddenly uncomfortable, like he was intruding.
“Who knows?” said the man as he adjusted his spectacles on his face.
The storyteller let go of the man’s shirt and opted to intertwine their fingers instead. “Their story isn’t over yet.”