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Are we really going to keep this up forever?
That is the question that I always ask myself.
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Staring at the ceiling, I close my eyes and imagine counting the stars as the chill of the night kisses my bare skin. How many years have passed, and how many more will it take until I can be with you?
I remember seeing you for the first time. It was like looking at my younger self—a wide-eyed child, small, fragile, and curious about everything (and by everything, I mean literally everything in this Six realm of existence ). You used to be so innocent, so pure-hearted, that I thought I could fall for you.
No, I’m certain that I already did.
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We met on a day just like this, lying under a cloudless sky, with the sun shining so brightly it hurt. It was the first day after I fell to the mundane. It was my first day after falling to the mundane world. Heaven wouldn’t take me back, as Chang’e wanted me to repent for what I did. Honestly, I couldn’t even remember what I’d done to her—I blamed it on the alcohol. Was it something serious? Probably. I tried to recall, but nothing came.
And so I was stuck in the human realm. Wandering with nothing to do and bored out of my mind, I decided to rest in a grassy field for a while.
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The soft rustle of grass caught my attention.
That was when I saw you.
You were just a little oni . The horn on your forehead gave away your identity, but all I saw was the innocence of a child (so pure and untouched, despite the fact that Hell had laid its mark on you, I was enthralled).
Judging by your clothing, I guessed you were an offering for the Gods. It was nauseating to think someone so young was destined to die, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Cautiously, you approached me. I gestured for you to come closer, and, being the bold child that you were, you didn’t need to be asked twice.
You were curious about me, that much I could tell. You wondered what kind of deity I was, and your small hands reached out to touch me (poking and rubbing and tugging at my tail, you seemed to enjoy playing with my tail a lot). I laughed and told you I was a mythical beast temporarily banished from Heaven (though I omitted the reason, as you didn’t need to know). You frowned and said I must have felt lonely here. I shook my head because I had just made a new friend.
Upon realizing what I meant, your eyes lit up brighter than the Hokuto Shichisei star on a moonless night.
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During my stay in the mundane world, I gave you my blessing and taught you whatever you wanted to know. In exchange, you kept me company and brought me food. Not that I couldn't feed myself—I just enjoyed eating with you.
You had such an interesting personality for a child. That fearless, vigilant look in your eyes told me you were a headstrong kid who feared nothing. You spoke to me without deference, treating me as an equal, but I didn’t mind. If anything, it made you special, as very few people were allowed to address me so casually.
I loved seeing your cute face light up with joy. I loved when you puffed your cheeks like a little squirrel. But most of all, I loved how you looked at me, like I was someone important to you.
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I truly cherished our time together. They say time flies when you’re having fun, and before I knew it, it was time for me to return to Heaven. Strangely, the idea didn’t thrill me as much as I had expected.
You looked so sad that it hurt me to leave. Though I promised to see you again, it didn’t ease the sorrow pooling in your dark eyes.
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It wasn't a coincidence that you found me that summer day. I should have known that Yue Lao had already intertwined our red string of fate long before we met (that old man must be a huge sadist who enjoys making people suffer, I swear.)
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We were destined to meet again. This time, it was a thousand years later, and you hated me—or so you claimed. I played along, pretending not to know, but I could never bring myself to hate you. I loved you too much for it, even though it started to turn into an unhealthy obsession.
Loving you hurts—not only because the only thing we’re good at is exchanging verbal insults, punches, and iron clubs, but also because my heart aches every time we fight. Loving you means enduring the pain of being forgotten. Loving you means we can’t be together.
But even if I were given the chance to cut our red string of fate, I wouldn’t.
Love blinds us, they say.
I must be a blind man.
And so, I carry on.
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For a long time, all I could do was watch over you.
I didn’t need to keep you safe—you’re Hell’s most feared oni. It would be absurd to think you needed protection from a creature of Heaven.
I didn’t need to make you happy—you’d only hate me more if I showed my face.
I didn’t need to keep you company—you weren’t alone.
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You seem to hate me deeply. Your dislike for me is evident, though you never give a reason. (Or maybe you did, but the list was too long to bother.)
Sometimes I wonder what I could do for you, but nothing comes to mind. It would be so much easier if you were a girl. Even the toughest women eventually surrender to my charm, despite knowing I would only break their hearts. But with you, you never give me a chance to get close.
We still see each other from time to time, forced to work together—whether by the red string or because of our duties, I don’t know.
But it’s clear that you hate me no less, and the wall around your heart remains as tall as ever.
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I think about what I find attractive about you—excluding your personality, which is too poisonous to bear.
You have a face and a mouth that I both love and hate.
Your mouth is small, and your lips look so kissable—except for those sharp fangs that could easily bite my tongue off if I dared. Every word that comes out of your mouth is venomous, and just when I think I’ve grown used to your snide remarks and dry wit, you always manage to push my limits and make me lose patience (seriously, how do you do it?) It frustrates me to no end.
And your face—that perfect, unreadable expression. Sometimes, I want to bash it in, just to see what goes on inside your head. I want to know your real thoughts about me, but if I did that, you wouldn’t be pretty anymore. And I like pretty things.
Is hatred really the only feeling you have for me?
I want to find out.
Maybe once I know the answer, this game will end, and you’ll come back to me.
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'Hakutaku-sama, why are you still awake? Is there something wrong?'
A hand snakes across my chest, and a pretty face comes into view. A soft, supple body presses against me, and I force my usual charming smile. She’s beautiful—one of the prettiest girls in Hell, I won’t lie, and a gracious charmer. I brought her home with me because she has red eyes and midnight-black hair. She knows how to please, and even though a bill of half a million yen will be waiting on the table tomorrow, she’s worth it.
'Nothing. I just can’t quite believe we’ve gotten to know each other like this.'
I’m not a pretentious bastard, so I’ll be honest. I love you, but that doesn’t mean I have the patience of a saint. I’m a man with needs, stuck in a hopeless, one-sided relationship. Girls are my solution and substitution for you. Being surrounded by curvaceous women with beautiful faces every day, it’s impossible not to fall in love with them a little. Of course, that’s before they open their mouths—or when they resort to violence.
'Ah, Hakutaku-sama.'
Until this game ends, I’ll indulge in this fleeting warmth and pretend she’s a version of you—a female mirror of what you might be.
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Beautiful nightmare, my Hoozuki.
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