Ethereal Guardians

A week had gone by and it was the typical routine. Mizuki had risen at around 9AM, eating breakfast, and getting ready for the day ahead. Schedules were normally filled with studying, checkups, and training. But now that the Kansei Enclave's academic year was over, Mizuki found herself with more free time than ever. Maybe she would use her free time to further develop her Hexed Arts or perfect a certain musical accompaniment she had been struggling to master. "Don't really know where to start, though," she mumbled aloud, slipping into a comfortable black sweatshirt and matching jogging pants. Her hands made work of wrapping her hair into a top bun and a few strands fell gently against her forehead.

With no specific direction to take, she found herself leaving the house. Though, she didn't account for what her actual plan would be for the day ahead. Taking a few steps into the nearest convenience store, she made quick work of picking out some snacks and ingredients to make an on-the-spot bento. It didn't take long for her to put together a small, colorful assortment of rice, some sautéed meat, and a couple of steamed vegetables. Satisfied with her purchase, she sat by the window, where a table and chair were already set. 'Home, sweet temporary home for a quick lunch,' she thought.

As she chewed her food, she eyed her phone. The agency that extended an offer recently still needed a proper response. They sent her information about the contract, which would last for a few years. After the first two years, depending on her performance, she was eligible for renewing it if they saw fit. The offer wasn't bad at all. They'd take care of everything from boarding, food, transportation, training, and whatever else she may require. The only thing was—she wouldn't be making much money. On average, a standard salaryman in Japan had higher wages than a successful idol, and being well-established took a considerable amount of time and effort. The time-consuming aspects were hardly new, considering her obligations as a healer. "Man. Being an idol sure is tricky. And being a Guardian is even trickier."

The male employee that was behind the counter nodded back and forth as she continued her internal battle. Mizuki took her tray and dumped the empty packaging into the trash bin. Giving the boy a brief wave, she ventured outside. While she walked, she scanned the area to figure out her destination for the day. Since there was no new mission she had been given to handle, she didn't have a precise goal set for the day, let alone the rest of her week.

She wondered what the rest of her friends were doing at this very moment. Sakura was off somewhere again, doing her own thing. Tetsuya was probably hunting down Malignant Wraiths lurking somewhere within the city. She had a hunch that Ren was either hanging out at home or still lingering in Sendai. As for her dear teacher, Kaoru—she had no clue. But, most likely, he was drowning in a pile of his unfinished paperwork. Mizuki then thought about what happened the previous week at the convenience store. She hated that it ended on a bit of a sour note.

Admittedly, she felt bad for instigating the affection in the first place. But he accepted it. He even kissed her. The thought replayed in her mind a few times, remembering the tender touch of his lips and how soft and kind they were.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

It was the chimes of her cellphone going off; a shrill tune playing back to her ears. Taking a look at the caller ID, she sighed to herself. It was Kaoru. With a sigh, she answered the phone. "Hey. What do you need?" she spoke gently. Mizuki picked up her pace, deciding that she would just go back home instead of lingering around aimlessly.

On the other end, Kaoru grumbled, "I'm bored." He could hear her laughter on the other line, the girl's soft chuckles echoing through the speaker. His smile widened, knowing that he wouldn't have to sit there at his desk bored for another half hour. "Have a second to chat?" Kaoru asked curiously.

This was their pattern—push and pull, close and far, over and over again. For Mizuki, the two-step dance she did with him was tiring. No matter what, though, she knew she could never stay mad at the guy, no matter how hard she tried. "Oh?" Mizuki paused at a crosswalk, watching the cars pass. "And what exactly do you want me to do about that?"

"Oh, well," the man rubbed his head, looking away from the window he had been staring out of. His tongue darted to moisten his chapped lips, before muttering, "I don't know. Keep me company, I guess?" His hand ran through his short silver locks once more. He didn't know how, when he called her on such short notice, she would be able to talk him out of his rut. After a few beats passed with nothing but the buzz of the cell phone connection filling his ear, he asked with a low tone, "You... still there?"

"Kaoru," Mizuki said softly, "how many times are we going to do this?" She'd thrown his own words right back at him. Maybe it was cruel, but it wasn't like Mizuki was the one always asking him for these silly little favors.

"This is different." Kaoru was lying through his teeth. His white hair swayed slightly as he shook his head, not believing a single thing his brain had come up with. He let his thumb run across the ring on his index finger. "I just want to talk. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" He bit his lip, pulling at the thin skin there with his teeth as he waited patiently for the reply.

"Is it different? Last week you could barely look at me after-" she cut herself off, remembering the gentle press of his lips, the way his thumb had traced her jaw. "You can't keep pushing me away and then pulling me back whenever you're lonely." It wasn't fair to either of them, really. "I'm right here, but you just won't let me-" her voice trailed off into a sigh, then, more quietly, "But I guess I can't really blame you for that."

His hand twitched a little, knowing that he was doing her wrong. The feeling that his selfishness would one day swallow the girl whole kept nagging at him, tugging on his heartstrings with every passing second. Kaoru clicked his tongue, letting his body sink against the cool leather chair. "Look, just indulge me, please?"

'Indulge me.' Mizuki closed her eyes, trying to calm down, knowing he wouldn't be able to see the motion. 'I've indulged you plenty. I wish you would treat me like your partner rather than some disposable friend.' Lost in thought, she didn't notice the uneven sidewalk ahead. Her toe caught on the edge, and she pitched forward with a yelp. Her knees scraped against the rough ground, dirt and grit clinging to her skin. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself, her fingers clutching the fabric of a passerby's jacket. She looked up in panic, quick to apologize to the stranger who only chuckled at her plight. "I'm so sorry!" she stammered, looking up in embarrassment.

The man she had grabbed onto chuckled softly. "No harm done," he said, crouching to her level and offering his hand. Mizuki hesitated for a moment before accepting his help. As she stood, her eyes took him in—his tall, lean figure, his broad shoulders and chest, the easy grace in the way he moved. But the one thing that stood out the most was a faint scar wrapped around his neck, barely visible beneath the collar of his shirt.

Her eyes averted from him immediately, sensing she shouldn't draw too much attention to it. "Thank you," she murmured, still embarrassed, though somewhat relieved he didn't seem offended.

Over the phone, Kaoru had heard the muffled sounds of the commotion before the line went dead. He pulled the phone away from his ear, frowning at the screen. "Huh..." he mused with slight suspicion. From what he could tell, it sounded like she fell over and dropped the call in the process. He was good at reading between the lines and filling in the blanks, especially when it came to her.

He tossed his phone onto his desk and leaned back into the comfortable chair. Cursing under his breath, he stared up at the high ceiling overhead. He was feeling especially angsty now since the chances of Mizuki appearing anytime soon were low, not without him urging her. For now, all he could do was sit there and wait patiently.

Back on the sidewalk, the stranger's eyes lingered on her for a moment too long, studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. He traced over her figure, eyeing the silver rings adorning her fingers. "Those rings," he said softly, gesturing to her silver bands, "they help channel your Hexed Arts, don't they?"

Mizuki blinked once, slowly, her expression carefully neutral as her pulse spiked. "I'm sorry?" she said, forcing her tone to remain casual.

His lips pulled into an easy grin that didn't reach his eyes. The residuals of her energy clung to her digits, and the little swirls and light dustings that danced about her skin spoke enough. "You can drop the act," he whispered, making sure not to speak too loudly, so only she could hear his words. Most people couldn't identify Guardians on sight, let alone recognize the purpose of her channeling tools. She gave a slight nod, suddenly very aware of how exposed they were on the public street. "I'm Renji Kurohata," he said, extending a hand toward her. "It's not often I run into another Guardian by pure chance."

"Mizuki Uehara," she replied, keeping her voice low to match his discretion. "I just graduated from Kansei Enclave." The words left her mouth before she could consider whether sharing that information was wise. At least, it wasn't unusual for Guardians to know each other. After all, it was a profession with very few options. Not one in a thousand civilians would find it, and even fewer would survive once identified as such.

"Ah, a recent graduate? Congratulations." Formalities tossed out the window, although, honestly, Mizuki didn't trust anything about the exchange from the beginning. Something seemed off; his body language was wary despite the apparent friendliness he displayed. The thought had lingered as it ate at her brain, gnawing like an ongoing static that never died down.

"Thank you," she said, taking a small step backward to restore some personal space. "I should probably be going—"

"Of course," Kurohata interrupted smoothly. "Maybe we'll see each other around." He walked off like nothing had happened, melting into the crowd without another glance. As his footsteps disappeared into the hustle and bustle, Mizuki released the tension in her shoulders and relaxed slightly. Despite her initial wariness, the encounter hadn't turned dangerous, but his parting words echoed in her mind: "Maybe we'll see each other around." As in, he expected the encounter to be repeated.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she continued her walk home, her scraped knees stinging slightly with each step. The afternoon sun had disappeared behind Tokyo's skyline, and the air was cool on her skin. As she climbed the stairs to her floor, she pulled out her phone to check the time and found her inbox flooded with messages from Sakura.

"MIZUKI"

"MI-CHAN"

"PICK UP YOUR PHONE"

"I DID SOMETHING STUPID"

"DON'T LECTURE ME BUT I NEED YOUR HEELP"

"IT'S NOT THAT BAD BUT"

"OK MAYBE IT'S KIND OF BAD"

"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY IGNORING ME RN???"

"I'M COMING OVER"

Mizuki sighed, fishing her keys out of her pocket as she reached her door. She had barely stepped inside and removed her shoes when another message buzzed through: "10 mins away. Hope you're home because this really hurts and I'm not dealing with shaman doctor garbage :/"

She hadn't even had time to process the strange encounter with Kurohata, and now this. Typical Sakura—always managing to find trouble even on what should have been a quiet afternoon. Mizuki quickly tidied the living room, clearing space on the couch where she'd undoubtedly need to work her healing Hexed Arts. Whatever Sakura had done to herself this time, it was probably going to be an interesting story at least.