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Kujou Sara stood under her tent at the outpost, squinting at the figure running through the rain in her direction. It was not hard to figure out who it was—red horns, wild white mane, tall, taller than the biggest soldier under her command. The oni is here? Why? “What’s the occasion, Itto?” She asked with a dry smile. If this was another desperate attempt at a re-match, she was ready to shut him down. She was preparing to say something to that effect until he stood before her, panting as he held out a small purple creature in his hands. Was it small or were his hands that big? No matter. “Is that an onikabuto?”
Itto nodded and between ragged, panting breaths he explained, “I was in the middle of a match in the village and I didn’t have anywhere to go so I came here. Can I stay, just until the rain passes?”
Arms crossed over her chest, Sara stared at him without a single emotion crossing her face. The sight of the oni soaked and begging for her help was delectable. It was the perfect opportunity to discourage him from begging for a re-match ever again. “Just until the rain passes.” She stepped aside, staring at the beetle in his hands, at the rivulets rolling over his forearms. As Itto stepped fully under the shelter, she gestured to the soaked jacket on his shoulders, “Aren’t you cold in that?” Itto hesitated before pulling it off with one hand, revealing a second beetle clinging to his chest harness. Sara looked unsurprised, but she had to ask, “Why do you have two?”
Itto raised his chin. “My opponent couldn’t take hers home, so I volunteered to keep him until we could battle again. They would have fought each other if they were close, though, so I had to stick him there.”
Sara stared a second longer before she hung his jacket over a chair, keeping her back to him as she pondered what to do now. She didn’t have to wonder for long.
Itto coughed quietly, “This might be asking a lot, but can I have a couple boxes to put these guys in? I don’t want them to fight while I’m holding them.”
Staring hard at the documents on her desk, Sara wracked her mind desperate to think of a reason to deny him. There was none. Begrudgingly, she handed over two of her five boxes, but not before she told him, “If I don’t get these back undamaged, you are going to work the worst jobs until you pay me back.”
Itto nodded solemnly as he placed the onikabuto in their respective boxes, repeating Sara’s threat to them.
Sara bristled immediately at the perceived mockery and looked like she was about to snatch them back when Itto raised his head and met her gaze. She fought the shiver that rolled down her spine, under the distinct impression that she was being …appraised.
Itto pulled the boxes towards himself slowly, black claws resting delicately on the lids. He smiled disarmingly, raising a hand to rake through his damp hair. “I was lucky you were here,” he admitted, breaking the silence. “Whirling Fang and Blazing Sun might not have made it home.”
Sara was taken aback and could only shrug, unable to resist smiling back at him. She didn’t have to entertain the man, yet, “You’re lucky I had a gap in my schedule.” Sara continued, “Didn’t you smell the rain coming?”
Itto flushed and crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I didn't think the rain would come so quickly. I was on the verge of victory.” He sighed and let his shoulders drop, looking sadly towards the boxes on the table. “It could have been the one. I guess I’ll never know.”
She held in a laugh at how dejected the oni looked and nodded with faux sympathy. “It could have broken that record losing streak I’ve heard about.” Ah, fuck.
Itto put his hands flat on the table and leaned across it, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “The leader of the Tenryou Commision keeps tabs on me? If I didn’t know better I’d say-”
“Finish that sentence carefully, Arataki Itto,” Sara intoned with a dark smile.
Unfazed, he leaned closer and whispered, “I’d say you liked me, Kujou Sara.”
If he had intended to flare her temper, it worked. Sara slammed her fists onto the desk (to keep from clawing his face) and moved fluidly into his space, their faces mere inches apart. “What are you insinuating, oni?” The woman hissed between her teeth, ready to throw him and his beetles out; fuck the sanctity of life.
“Oh, you already know,” he grinned, “You couldn’t admit it before but now I know the truth. You want a re-match.”
Suddenly stone-faced, Sara mumbled blankly, “A re-match, Obviously I meant nothing else.” As she watched him slide the beetle boxes to her side of the table, part of her wondered if her plan to silence him was as smart as she previously thought.
“If you wanted a re-match, you just had to ask,” he snickered, “I have a busy schedule but there’s always time for you.”
She placed her hand on the box to her left, stepping backwards with it to peer at the violet insect within. “I cannot say the same for you, oni. Unlike you, I have a job.”
Itto ignored the jab and picked up his box, crooning to the beetle inside, “Don’t worry, we got this, little guy.” It made no response other than to turn around several times in its prison.
Sara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Let’s get this over with. I cannot stand your presence much longer.”
Itto lifted Blazing Sun out of its box and waited for Sara to do the same before he placed his beetle on the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I kick your ass,” he promised with an almost perfectly straight face, the corners of his lips twitching upwards for a half-second.
She rolled her eyes to the heavens and prayed for patience. As she stared at the beetle in front of her, fear flashed across her face. What had he said earlier? His beetle had almost won the fight? “Itto,” a frantic whisper, “which of these beetles was yours?”
He smirked as he raised his fist over the table and yelled loud enough for people in neighboring tents to hear, “Go!”
Together they shouted and cheered for their beetles, Sara especially as her thoughts were racing at the possibility she got the losing beetle. As far as she could tell, they looked identical aside from color (his was pink) and seemed evenly matched; there was no way of calculating who would be the victor. She clenched her hands into fists and held them tightly against her chest, eyes as round and bright as the moon, her frigid exterior melting in the heat of competition. Something told her to look up and when she did she caught Itto staring at her, his head cocked to the side, half-smiling at her. Sara wanted to berate him, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her gaze drifted down to his lips where she could see the hint of a fang, then she tore her eyes away to check on the beetle match.
It was over. The defeated bug was lying on its back, stunned. Sara succumbed to a bout of feral laughter. Itto bowed graciously and scooped his beetle back into its box, whispering words of consolation before he put the lid on it.
“Somehow, you’ve beaten me once again.” He chuckled, “It wasn’t a total loss: who would have guessed you had a personality trait besides ‘stoic’?” Itto plucked the beetle from her hand and placed it on his chest harness with a sweet, flirtatious smile. “You know, if you ever get bored of your ‘job’ or whatever, I’ll always have a spot in the gang for you.”
Sara snorted and was about to retort when she noticed the sunbeams peeking through the clouds; immense relief flooding her mind and pausing the contortions it was putting itself through to justify the answer she wanted to give. What she said instead was, “When did it stop raining?”
“Oh, half an hour ago, I think. You didn’t notice?” Itto placed a hand on his hip and cackled. “Were you having too much fun?”
The time for games was over. Itto’s world spun as Sara had gripped him by the horns and forced him to stare into her eyes, fiery and unforgiving as the noon-day sun. Strands of indigo hair blew between their faces as an uncomfortable silence grew. She relished that silence after the infuriating voice of the oni had plagued her for so long that day. Sara felt him start to pull away and she held on tighter, unable to keep the smugness out of her voice as she watched him grimace at the angle his neck was being pulled, “You lost your re-match, now leave me alone and get out of my camp.” She saw something devious flit across his face and he lifted his head without warning, pulling her to his chest and making her stand on the tips of her toes.
Held so closely against him, the tengu warrior felt their heartbeats change and climb, faster and higher. The oni man kept his hands firmly at his sides and allowed himself one wistful sigh before he broke the spell with “I’m loving this one-on-one time with you, but, didn’t you want me to leave?” Someone coughed behind them and Itto turned to wave cheerily to the man holding a stack of paperwork. Sara saw that he was on the verge of speaking and jabbed a pen against his thigh– a warning that he heeded.
But, instead of making an immediate escape as she thought, Itto leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Hey, if you want like, a re-match re-match? You know where to find me.” He winked and ran from the tent before she had time to process, leaping over a fence right next to an open gate.
Sara stared after him for a moment before speaking to her subordinate, answering mechanically without really hearing anything he said. Stupid oni man. Eyes glazed over, she noticed that something was amiss about the man’s expression and she forced herself to the front of her mind again, nails pressed into the soft wood of the desk beneath her. He smelled like jasmine. The thought made her heart race but she didn’t recognize the beat; it was rhythmless and greedy and clawing its way up her nerve endings. “You know,” she interrupted the droning voice, “There’s no need for my consultation in this matter, you can take care of it yourself. I have an appointment to get to.”