Today’s not my day, I swear

Akira POV

What's taking that maid so long?! I'm here dying in the cold!

SIGH!

Well, Kowai is competent, so Makoto will definitely be brought to his knees. But could she work faster?!

*

After the intense chase I had earlier with that warthog—Makoto—an idea struck me:

Under a starry sky, the moon's silver glow washes over every corner of the park. The greenery sways gently in the breeze, creating a serene backdrop as Makoto and I stand facing each other. His heart would beat faster and faster with every passing second—not that mine would.

The point is: I plan to have an honest talk with him. I want to know why he keeps running from me, why he dared to abandon me six years ago, and what his plans are now.

If we can have a genuine heart-to-heart, there's no reason why he won't eventually worship me—or at least agree to some kind of compromise.

Of course, the same Makoto who fervently evaded me at school wouldn't willingly meet with me tonight. That's where Kowai comes in. She'll lure him here using her... "unconventional" methods—whatever she meant by that—and drag him right to me.

Hmmm. But I remember Makoto demonstrating an impressive level of skill when we raced earlier... Can Kowai actually stand against him—

"Ugh!!" A loud groan interrupted my thoughts. "Careful with the hair!"

The sorrowful moan of a defeated man.

"Goodness, Kowai!" I exclaimed, rising from the swing where I had been waiting near the park's main entrance. "I told you to drag him here, but I didn't mean it literally! And why does he look so beat up?!"

Makoto resembled a burglar caught in the act—disheveled and roughed up. Kowai gripped the back of his shirt, dragging him across the dirt path like a sack of flour. His clothes were caked in mud, his cheek was swollen as if he'd been punched, and there was dried blood on his forehead.

What on earth had happened?

I had heard loud thuds and felt faint vibrations earlier. I assumed it was just a mild earthquake. But if it was them... What would that make them? Giants in human form?

The park felt eerily nostalgic in contrast. The creak of the swing chains behind me, the soft rustle of the trees, and the faint scent of earth reminded me of when Makoto and I used to come here as kids.

If I want to defeat him, it has to be here. And I have to do it before Hana gains any ground.

I glanced at the pouting Makoto, then back at Kowai. "You went too far; don't you think?"

Kowai tilted her head slightly, her voice soft yet cold. "But, Akira-sama, you said I could use any means necessary to drag him here."

I frowned. "Don't you have common sense? He's completely beat up! And don't he need a doctor?"

Kowai shrugged. "What? He's fine, trust me." She glanced down at Makoto, who sat slumped on the ground beside her. "He's never been better."

"Ah, so he's a masochist on top of being a narcissist?" I held my chin in mock contemplation. "Noted."

*

Makoto had been utterly defeated by Kowai, and dragged to her mistress against his will. But even said mistress felt sorry for his defeated state.

"Ah, so he's a masochist on top of being a narcissist? Noted." Akira responded to Kowai's claim that Makoto felt better after taking the beating.

"Hey, watch it!" Makoto snapped, his face flushed. "I'm not a masochist! And I don't want to be called a narcissist by someone like yo—"

"Makoto, I will not allow you to disrespect my mistress." Kowai's voice cut through his words like a blade. Her expression was blank, but her tone carried a deadly weight.

Makoto yelped and scrambled a few feet away from her as her spiritual energy glinted briefly, almost like a warning.

"See? You're intimidating him again," Akira said, letting out a small sigh.

Not that she could perceive spiritual energy, but there was something different about Makoto now.

"But... he does feel different from earlier," Akira remarked, her tone thoughtful as she squinted at Makoto.

Makoto flinched under her scrutiny, a flicker of unease crossing his face as he glanced at her warily.

"How so, Akira-sama?" Kowai asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

Her tone betrayed a genuine interest, wondering what an unawakened Akira could possibly discern from the newly awakened Makoto.

Akira's gaze lingered on him, sharp and unwavering.

"Eh? I can't quite pin it down..." She trailed off, as though searching for the right words. "But if I had to describe it, I'd say Makoto seems... menacing. Bigger, somehow." Her eyes seemed to bore into him, as if trying to unravel his very essence.

Kowai and Makoto exchanged a cautious glance, their expressions stiff with discomfort at her cryptic observation.

Sensing the awkwardness, Akira waved her hand dismissively, an air of nonchalance cloaking her. "Feel free to ignore my words of wisdom. I was just stating what I felt. I don't expect inferiors like you to grasp the profound truths of life," she said, her voice dripping with haughtiness.

Crossing her legs on the swing she sat on, she radiated an unshakable confidence.

She was dressed in a deep blue gown, accentuated by an extravagant looking, girlish dark jacket draped over her shoulders, the outfit lending her an air of whimsical authority.

Kowai clasped her hands together dramatically and exclaimed, "As expected of Akira-sama the Great! Your wisdom is unmatched!"

Akira shot her an annoyed glare. "Be silent! I know you're mocking me, you impudent maid," she snapped.

"Ehhh, mock you? I would never!" Kowai retorted, a hand waving her denial.

"Regardless," Akira said, her tone firm, "keep your mouth shut and stand by. I wish to have a conversation with Makoto."

Kowai bowed deeply and theatrically. "By all means, Akira-sama. C'mon, go ahead," she said, slapping Makoto on the back and shoving him forward toward Akira.

The sharp shove startled Makoto, but Kowai merely stepped back, assuming a detached stance as though she were air itself.

Then she moved back some steps and assumed "air" essence.

Akira smirked approvingly. "That's better." She gestured to a bench close to her swing. "Sit there," she instructed Makoto, her gaze commanding.

Makoto sighed and trudged to the bench, plopping down with a mild air of reluctance.

'Today's not my day, I swear.' He whimpered in thoughts.

"Now," Akira began, leaning back slightly on the swing, "what should we discuss? Your time abroad or your insufferably egotistic personality?" Her smirk was sharp, her tone teasing yet laced with condescension.

"I told you before, I'm not taking that from you," Makoto retorted. "Sure, some people call me a narcissist, and yeah, I can be self-absorbed sometimes. But I don't bother defending myself because, honestly, it feels good being the center of attention."

Akira's finger shot up, her eyes alight with triumph. "Ah, See? Narcissism, right there."

"You can call it that if you want," Makoto replied, settling more comfortably on the bench, though his eyes flicked toward Kowai warily.

'How did I not see Akira earlier with [God perspective]? I could see the entire damn park… maybe Kowai had something to do with it,' Makoto wondered to himself, unease flickering across his features.

"And look," he continued aloud, irritation lacing his tone, "I've got a family waiting for me, so whatever this is, make it quick. What do you want?"

Akira tipped her head, an almost predatory smile tugging at her lips, and utter sincerity gleaming in her eyes. "Ah, Makoto... You're so lucky. Most people couldn't say something like that to me and walk away with their lives unbroken. Truly, you are blessed."

Makoto sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. "And that's exactly one of the many problems I have with you, Akira."

Akira raised a delicate brow. "Oh? Enlighten me. That's why I summoned you here, after all. Pour out your grievances—what is it you hate about me?"

'I wasn't summoned here, Ma'am; I was lured, then hauled against my will.'

Makoto glanced toward Kowai, his expression tensing.

"Uhm… maybe I shouldn't," he muttered nervously.

Akira noticed his hesitation and turned toward her maid. "Kowai, from now henceforth, you are not to bully or harm Makoto. Understood?"

Kowai bowed with a perfectly deadpan expression, her eyes seemingly devoid of light. "Understood, Akira-sama. I will henceforth no longer bully Makoto or beat him up."

Both Akira and Makoto cringed simultaneously. "Wh-why do I feel like you're lying?" Akira muttered, her brow twitching.

"Because she's probably lying, that's why." Makoto replied, his hand covering his face as though warding off a bad memory.

Akira rolled her eyes. "Ignore her. Kowai might seem like a serial killer at times, but she obeys my every word. Rest assured, she won't harm you. Now..." She leaned forward slightly, her cold, deep blue gaze piercing. "What is it about me that you dislike so much?"

Makoto sighed deeply, his light blue eyes locking with hers. "For starters, you see people as if they aren't people. You act like you're above everyone else in the world. But even with all that, there are people in your life who care for you, like Kowai. And what do you do with their care? You trample all over it."

Akira, who had been listening attentively, frowned.

Her expression darkened, her playful smirk vanishing in an instant, her dark blue hair catching the faint moonlight that filtered through the trees.

For a moment, the swing creaked in the silence, the tension between them growing thick.

"Trample… all over it?" Akira repeated, her voice low, almost a whisper. She leaned back, gripping the chains of the swing tightly as her gaze fell to the ground. "Is that how you see me, Makoto?"