Finally Leaving

" Come on, Raksha—Hurry up out here!"

" Yes, Mother...No need to rush me. "

Months have passed, and I'm completely in routine. I wake up to my Mother yelling my name and rushing me on. I get out of bed and head into the bathroom—small and quaint. I can't go out looking a total mess, so I spend 20 minutes freshening up—first my body, then my hair and teeth. Though, recently, I've been pausing for a second in the mirror. There's something different about me compared to everyone else in this place. I'm growing at an odd rate. Every day I start to have more questions about myself. But...I'm finally starting to put the pieces together.

Formally, I was Ryota Kurogane, a high schooler from Japan. Born to two loving parents who wouldn't get off my back about my tattoos. Simple teenager stuff. Strong, tall, definitely handsome, and maybe even a little imposing. But there's a gap—in my memories I mean. One minute I'm Ryota taking a snooze in a boring class...the next I'm Raksha, a Demon in the city " Takoragami ". 

Yeah, that's right. A Demon.

However, not the kind with bat wings and evil faces—instead the kind that won't stop banging on your door when you take too long in the bathroom. 

Despite knowing I was reborn as some sort of "demonic" creature, it was still hard to grapple with the fact I was born "special". Unlike other Demon babies, I grew at an alarming rate. On paper, I was still a newborn, not even a year old. But physically...that was another story entirely. 

Putting aside the black sclera and horn growing from my forehead, I stood at 162 cm. It takes no genius to realize I was far taller than the average child, let alone what would be the norm for a newborn. Both my Mother and the man that took us in, Ragnor, continue to theorize thinking I'm some sort of special case that you would only hear about in some freaky legend.

But recently I've been thinking it has something to do with these growing pains I have in my arms. Sharp flashes of dreadful pain shoot up my forearms and linger for hours at a time. Though it seems unrelated, something inside me is telling me they're connected. To prevent the gripping pain, I was given something, a special set of equipment that was made to prevent the pain from getting debilitating throughout the day. 

The pair of equipment came in a set. Gloves and boots. They left much to be desired when it came to design but my desire to get away from the pain outweighed my fashion sense. Moving right to my bedside, there they were. A pair of white gloves, pristine with golden bands around the wrists. The bands had a middle section to them that flashes red when I open them up and dims when I close them around my wrist. They're easy to slip on once you unclasp the bands but quite hard to remove. 

Then came the boots. They were white with a red band around the bottom. They raised me a few centimeters but not enough to be noticeable. They too had the same bands around them, however, they were at the collar. I couldn't help but sigh at the fact that I would have to put them on just to stop feeling the numbing pain. Then again, it didn't feel uncomfortable to wear them so I dealt with it. 

Simple brown overalls, a white shirt, and black pants. My clothes were nothing special but at the end of the day, they were comfortable and fit me well. So I didn't complain much at all. It took me just 40 minutes to get ready, setting records here.

Opening the door to my room, I found my Mother there, tapping her foot away as she seemed to be quite impatient with me. 'Did she stand there for 40 minutes' was all that ran through my mind. What a waste of time—

" Why does it always take you so long? It seems like the time is getting longer— "

" Sorry, Mother. Just getting on the gloves, y'know, bit difficult. "

Exaggerating a bit, I forcefully winced, raising my left hand as my right graced my forearm, showing the idea that I was in some pain. Letting my hands come back down, I walked past her, though I couldn't get very far. Both her hands came down onto my shoulders, turning me around as she grabbed at the sides of my arms and looked me in the eyes.

This woman who I was to call my mother...she was an enigma to me. I had personally lived 17 years of life before ending up here in this unrealistic position...And now I was this woman's child. It wouldn't be so mind-boggling if I didn't retain so much of my intelligence. And despite me trying my best to use that intelligence to understand her, her past was a total mystery and she was single, with no father in sight for me. And despite all that, I felt connected to her. Maybe it's because I remember my unfortunate circumstances of birth or simply because she does things like this.

" Are you okay, Raksha? Seriously if I have to I'll— "

" Stop it. I told you, I'm fine. "

I was never really a nice guy. I couldn't stand being babied when I was Ryota and I still can't as Raksha. I raised my hand forcefully, hers coming from off my arm as I stepped back and turned away from her.

" Watch it. I won't forgive you if you suggest something like that again. "

She hadn't even finished speaking and yet I knew exactly what she was going to say. Here in Takoragami, there exists something very reminiscent of old fantasy novels I used to read. An axiom of sorts, one associated deeply with "healing". However, despite trying to be something considered a social benefit, there are quite some nasty rumors about that healing. I've kept my ear to all the conversations floating around the tavern I've had the fortune of living in and one thing I hear quite consistently is about the steep "favors" needed to get any healing. 

My mother, holding nothing back, is easy on the eyes. And from what I've heard Ragnor and her suggest before to potentially find a fix for my affliction is less than savory, to say the least. Since hearing that ridiculous suggestion, I've grown increasingly moody when it comes to my mother trying to help me.

I mean—I get it. She's just trying to look out for me. So maybe I shouldn't be so abrasive...but my pride won't let me go about it any other way.

I refuse to sacrifice her dignity for my comfort.

I took my time walking toward the stairs, looking a bit over my shoulder as I saw my Mother's disappointed grimace. She wasn't upset with me...But herself. It was enough for me to click my tongue and look away from her in frustration. Why is she so difficult...

" Raksha- boy. Come here a second. I need your help with the accounting. "

While my frustrations boiled inside, I had mindlessly walked by the office of Ragnor, the old man who we had the fortune of being taken in by. Though, of course, he just had to be a bother sometimes. In this case, paperwork was what had been ailing him and now would be working my last nerves. The day had only just begun and my mood was already soured twice. 

" What a pain...Are you learning nothing? "

" Do me this solid and you'll get a cut. "

Money? Say no more. Sitting down next to the old man, I grabbed the paper he had been holding out to me. It was a full list of the daily sales and any expenses made for business operations. It was a pain to look through but it was nothing more than simple arithmetic. Getting an education wasn't easy here in Takoragami but a Japanese sophomore like me has no issue with it. 

" You know, you could stand to be more understanding. "

" What? "

" We both know you're 'special'. Far too mature to be a normal kid—not to mention the horn and eyes you've got going on...And yet she looks at you with nothing but love. All I'm saying is, cut her a break. "

" Butt out, Ragnor. I don't need you on my case. "

" Like it or not, you're not normal. It's only a matter of time before more people realize that. Get a grip and don't push her away. "

I didn't say anything more. If I learned anything about this strange world I had been thrown into, the unknown and strange tend to attract attention. And attention in a place like this got people killed. Though they don't know I used to be a Japanese 17-year-old from another world...Both my mother and Ragnor aren't stupid enough to believe I'm a normal kid. 

I really shouldn't push away the only other person who cares about my existence. But...

" ...Alright. I hear you. "

Reluctantly, I kept my mouth shut, not adding anything extra to the conversation beyond a simple recognition of his concerns. 

It took no longer than 30 minutes after that brief conversation to handle the paperwork presented to me. It wouldn't have taken so long if I hadn't stopped every moment or so to give Ragnor pointers on how to do it himself—like always. Not too long after squaring away the work, I popped up off the seat, holding my hand out and waiting for the cash. 

" Greedy little bastard... "

" Do it yourself then. "

" Ugh. "

Easily I had gained some capital for the first time since I'd been born. Opening up the sack a bit after it had been dropped into my hand, I counted. Just roughly 14,000 Zen. The conversion rate on Zen had been about one and a half times that of Yen from back home which meant I had somewhere close to 9,400 Yen. Good enough for what I wanted to get. He looked up at me with a bit of concern for my relationship with my mother—I could tell. Tightening the space between my eyes and furrowing my brows, I sighed.

" I get it. Stop glaring at me, old man. "

I turned away, walking out from the office and making a sharp right, heading right on back to my room. Originally I was just going to do some chores around the tavern—help mother out a bit. But now I had a bit of a different idea. I opened the door and right at the side of it, there had been my zip-up hoodie. I grabbed it and threw it on, quickly bringing the hood to veil my face a bit. I was taller than the normal kid but still pretty small. So thankfully my horn fit right under the hood with no problem, hiding it from easy view.

Leaving the room I went and looked to the door straight across from my own. Mother's room. Stepping toward it I reached my hand out, going toward the doorknob. However, I stopped short. I couldn't open it. On a basic level, I didn't know what to say to her face to face, not after my cold behavior earlier. But even deeper than that, I still felt like she was something of a stranger. I had a mother—back in Japan. A mother of 17 years no less. It was nearly impossible to immediately accept this new woman as my mother...Even if I did come out of her. 

But she did care for me.

" Hey. I'm headed out, I'll be back before late. You can handle the chores, right? "

* CLACK— OPEN *

The doorknob rattled and the door burst open, her body coming into view. She wasn't short, definitely not. I couldn't properly gauge it from such a small position but I would even say she was about as tall as I had been back then as Ryota Kurogane. Her expression was worried about it, you could tell she wanted to say a lot. But she didn't.

Instead, she just reached a hand down to my cheek and gently caressed it. To her, I was her abnormally massive baby boy who was already so rebellious. And to me, she was just a woman who gave me a weird new life, right? It had still only been a few months since I'd been born so I shouldn't care so much, right? But even when I think that I can't help but react this way. 

My hand inched up and pressed against hers, sighing as my eyes drifted to the side. 

" I'll be fine, Mother. I've got my hood. " 

" I know...You're smart...But you're still young. So don't be out too late—I don't like to worry! "

Her little nagging for some reason didn't bother me here. Maybe I don't view her as my real mom just yet...But this bond is real. So...I guess I'll take it seriously. 

Letting her hand come away from my cheek at her own pace, I stepped back, turning toward the stairs and darting toward them. I wanted to get out of the tavern as quickly as possible and not be bothered by whoever had been in the place. Hood up, I pushed past patrons and slipped right outside before anyone could stop me. 

* SLIP— *

Something the novels I used to read back as Ryota didn't tell me was how annoyingly nosey people are in these "fantasy" worlds. And their constant chatter and attempts at holding you up certainly didn't make it all any easier. But...I gained a few skills in the months that I've dealt with this. Bussing tables, attending to greedy patrons that just won't stop ordering food—the whole nine yards, it all teaches you how to move your body to completely slip by people without being noticed at all.

Reaching the front door was easy. Just a few months ago, I had arrived at it covered in blood and pulled along my mother by the umbilical cord. But now I was leaving with some cash in my pocket.

I mean, I've left before, but never gone too far and I certainly didn't have any coin. 

And now that I was outside, with some Zen, I could go where I wanted. 

To the Shopping District. 

CHAPTER 3 END