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“All I'm saying is,” Retsudou sighed into the speaker, “you could have joined me on this mission, Misasa. Would've made it a lot easier for me.”
If it had been anybody else laughing on the other end of the line, Retsudou would've considered threatening them, but he couldn't do that with Misasa—he'd learned so much from him, after all, and sometimes, he felt indebted to him even when he knew he didn't have to. The time they'd spent together didn't stop Misasa from finding joy in his suffering, though.
“Should you really call this a mission? I was under the impression that today was considered a day off for you, at least that's what the Master told me.”
Of course his father would say that, especially when he'd been the one forcing him to visit the village of the Kure yet again. But to Retsudou, this was a proper mission, and an excruciating one at that. A task he had to mentally prepare himself for to make sure he completed it to the best of his abilities, without anyone being harmed in the process.
Retsudou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your presence could make all the difference. Who else could keep me from murdering these idiots?”
“Aww, you wouldn't do that, Young Master. I know you're trying to hide it, but I can tell how fond you are of them.”
“About as fond as I am of a gastric ulcer,” he muttered before he came to a halt. Retsudou had reached the Kure's main residence, the place he'd come to loathe more than anything in the past months. Looking up at the huge, traditional mansion, he heaved another sigh. “Anyway, I just arrived. Any last words before you leave me alone out here to suffer?”
“Have fun, Young Master,” Misasa chirped and hung up without waiting for a response.
(Retsudou couldn't believe he had the audacity to not even try to sound less gleeful about his misery.)
He put away his phone and rolled his shoulders, which had unwittingly tensed at the sight of the building in front of him. Retsudou had no idea what to expect, and he wasn't sure whether he preferred it that way or not. These days, his father wouldn't even tell him what horrors lay ahead of him whenever he was called to one of Raian and Ouma's play dates. He used to believe that the short period of ignorance until he reached his destination would soothe his mind, but instead, the anticipation made his stomach ache.
Whatever it was, he was sure it would be just as idiotic as all the times before.
When Retsudou entered the mansion, he was immediately greeted by Hollis—non-verbally, at least. Hollis simply nodded at him in greeting and pointed down the hallway. Retsudou looked into the direction of his outstretched finger, and as if on cue, he heard the familiar cackling that had followed him into his nightmares countless times already. He turned to ask Hollis what they were up to this time, but the man had left already.
“Bloody black-eyed bastard,” he muttered as he dragged his feet down the hall, following Raian's cackle. It was never a good sign when he laughed like that, but at least it made it easy for Retsudou to find the room they were in.
He took one final deep breath and opened the sliding door to reveal the two idiots sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by countless small plates and bowls. It took them a while to realise that Retsudou had entered the room over their incessant bickering, but once Raian did, he clicked his tongue at him.
“What took you so long? We've been ready to start our competition for ages.”
“Sorry for being late,” Retsudou said and closed the door. “I just really didn't want to come.”
Raian rolled his eyes. “Whatever, let's just start.”
“Start with what?”
“With our eating competition,” Ouma explained, holding one of the bowls up for Retsudou to look at.
An eating competition sounded suspiciously domestic and harmless, as far as he was concerned. Something didn't seem quite right about it, but Retsudou knew better than to stress himself over trying to figure out the reason for that. Instead, he pulled one corner of his mouth up to smirk at Raian. “Isn't the winner clear if it's about eating? Ouma should have a clear advantage.”
“As if! This isn't about the amount you can eat.”
“We're competing to see who can eat the spiciest chillies,” Ouma added when he saw Retsudou raising an eyebrow in question.
Having only glanced at the bowls before, Retsudou took his first proper look at the food they were filled with. Never before had he seen so many chillies of different sizes, their colours ranging from green to all shades between yellow, orange and dark red. He assumed they all had different levels of heat to them, and for the first time since the start of his time as babysitter, he was almost looking forward to what would be happening this afternoon.
“True, in that case it's about withstanding pain.” Retsudou did his best to hide his grin at the surprised expressions on Raian and Ouma's faces. “What, you didn't know? What you taste when you eat something hot isn't spice, it's your pain receptors being triggered.”
For about five seconds, Retsudou felt like he was on top of the world. He only realised his mistake when an irritating grin stretched across Raian's face.
“So this comes down to a battle of wills, right? To see who's better at handling pain?” Raian barked out a triumphant laugh. “I won't lose then. Kure education is all about pain resistance.”
“Neither will I!” Ouma countered.
Retsudou, however, was sure a competition like that would make him lose his mind instead, but since he had no say in any of this, he tried not to think of it. He briefly thought about what kind of odd training the Kure went through and decided not to ask for details. Instead, he settled down on the floor between Raian and Ouma and inspected the different chillies. If whoever organised this went through such a thorough preparation, they might as well do it properly.
“Alright, let's start this off with some of the milder ones, then.” Reaching out towards one of the bowls reflexively, Retsudou stopped himself and furrowed his brow. “Where's the list with the different levels of hotness?”
Raian shrugged. “Dunno. There was none.”
“I think they were lined up when we came in, but I don't think we put them back the way we found them after looking at them,” Ouma said, his voice disturbingly blank for someone who already helped sabotage the challenge before it even started.
Retsudou blinked once, twice, and let out an annoyed sigh. Massaging his temple with one hand, he said, “Fine, whatever, we'll just wing it. Either way, whoever goes for the milk first loses.”
Without waiting for them to respond, Retsudou picked up the bowl with some red chillies that looked just like the ones you could buy at a random supermarket. Raian and Ouma instantly grabbed some and threw them into their mouths, completely unafraid of what spiciness might lurk underneath their colourful skin. To Retsudou, it was all the same; the sooner their mouths were on fire, the earlier he could leave.
As expected, the first chillies were mild enough to not cause any problems. Next, Retsudou chose some slender green ones that reminded him of fingers. Upon eating them, both Raian and Ouma scrunched up their noses a bit, but seemed alright otherwise. (Retsudou wondered if, maybe, the chillies tasted as weird as they looked.)
At the rate this was going, neither of them was in enough discomfort to give Retsudou much hope of clocking out early. He scanned the remaining chillies, searching for one that gave the impression of being hot, and finally chose some bulky, bright orange ones that looked anything but appealing to him.
He wasn't sure whether the chillies were significantly hotter than the ones before or they were simply eating too many of them, but this time, both Raian and Ouma started to sweat a little. Retsudou felt some hope built up inside of him, but he'd learned the hard way not to trust that feeling too early—the two idiots could still talk, after all.
“Looking a bit uncomfortable there, Ouma. Too hot for you?” Raian taunted, sitting up a bit straighter despite being in visible discomfort himself.
Ouma, as expected, jumped at the provocation and glared at him. “Nothing I can't handle.”
Retsudou shook his head. As long as they could still talk like that, they apparently hadn't suffered enough. If he was less apathetic about the whole situation, he might have looked up some of the chillies on his phone, but he couldn't be bothered.
He scanned the remaining chillies to see if any caught his eye. “Good for the two of you. Next up is—”
“Let's go for that one over there,” Raian interrupted him.
He pointed at a small, red, horribly shrivelled chilli that seemed vaguely familiar to Retsudou, but then again, all chillies looked about the same to him. With how insistent Raian was, however, Retsudou hoped it was one of the hotter ones.
Ouma put two chillies inside his mouth and started chewing right away, but this time, the reaction came immediately. His eyes watered and his chewing slowed down until his jaw came to a halt completely.
“Your face doesn't look too good, Ouma. Are you in pain?” Raian asked, a shit-eating grin on his lips.
It wasn't surprising to Retsudou that he took some kind of sick pleasure from seeing someone else suffer. And anyway, he was too excited by the potential end to his own misery to care much. He observed Ouma closely, waiting for the pain to become too much.
“How about some milk?” Raian asked again, holding out the glass for Ouma to take, who only shook his head.
“N-no.”
“Hmm, how about eating another chilli? Or are they too hot for you?”
Retsudou couldn't help but snort. It was such a cheap provocation, not even Ouma would be dense enough to fall for it.
To his horror, he was wrong. Ouma glared at Raian and reached for the bowl of chillies, grabbing three of them and threw them into his mouth. He chewed on them twice before he slouched forward and groaned in pain. It didn't feel right to Retsudou to see someone so adept at fighting and enduring pain reduced to an absolute mess because of a tiny fruit.
Raian's laugh rang through the mansion when Ouma finally gave in and reached for the milk, gulping down the entire glass within a few seconds. It took him at least half a minute to calm down, enough time for Retsudou to rise to his feet again.
“My win, sucker!”
“Hmm, I wonder,” Retsudou mused as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, trying not to laugh at how quickly Raian's face fell.
“What?”
“We only know that Ouma tapped out, but you haven't withstood that chilli yet.” He shrugged and shot Raian an almost condescending look. “Or are you chickening out, Kure? Is that all your training amounts to?”
It was too easy to rile Raian up, or maybe Retsudou just knew what buttons to push. Raian took two seconds to think about his words before he reached for the remaining half a dozen or so chillies and put them in his mouth at the same time.
Retsudou lit his cigarette, took a deep drag and turned around to leave the room. As opposed to Raian, he didn't find some sick enjoyment in other people's suffering—at least not to the extent that it would make him stay in the Kure village any longer than necessary.
The moment he closed the door behind him, a scream that didn't belong to this world came from the room, surely shaking most people in the mansion to their very core. As he walked down the hallway back to the entrance, a skip to his step that hadn't been there in a while, Retsudou couldn't help but smile.
After all, he'd found a new way to shut that devil child up for good.