Nami

I stepped out of the train station, the long white coat I was wearing on top of a short pink long-sleeved dress failing to shield me from the evening’s spring breeze. Nonetheless, I could not complain, as I absolutely loved cold weather. 

I glanced at my white knee-length boots, which, although fit me perfectly, were very uncomfortable and already hurting my feet. As I winced in pain, I grumbled, “Bloody high-heel boots. Why did I choose to wear them tonight? Oh yeah, because they go well with my dress and coat. Pfft, what a bother. I should have put on jeans, a sweater, and tennis shoes.”

It was also my first time wearing makeup, golden earrings with rose quartz stones, a golden necklace whose pendant carried a small and delicate rose quartz stone as well, and two golden bracelets. For some strange reason, I had felt the need to put in extra effort when getting ready for that night’s event, even though I was reluctant to attend it until the very last minute—I still was, to be honest. The prospect of spending hours in the company of people I was hardly acquainted with did not thrill me at all.

Am I supposed to go right or left? 

I checked the map and instructions to the karaoke establishment that Shiokawa-san had texted the night before. Supposedly, it was a ten-minute walk from where I was, and there was no way I would get lost. 

Okay, then. Let us go to the karaoke. 

* * *

“I do not want to do this anymore,” I snapped, tears of frustration prickling my eyes when I found myself back in front of the train station again. 

One hour or so had passed since I first began my arduous journey to the karaoke, and it was the third time I was back to the starting point because I was not capable of following simple instructions and turning the correct corners to reach my desired destination. 

“I am so foolish,” I berated myself, crouching against the wall of the station and burying my face into my hands. “I want to go home. I want to see my family. I do not want to be a human anymore.”

My smartphone rang in my handbag, and I answered the call begrudgingly. “This is Nami Fukuyama speaking.” My voice was dry and low.

“Nami-chan, where are you?” Shiokawa-san barked at the other end of the line.

Loud chatting and singing in the background caught my attention. “Are you at the karaoke?” I asked.

“Yes, and everyone is already here. Well, everyone but you. Where are you, anyway? Why are you so late?”

“I am at the train station and cannot find my way there,” I confessed. I lowered my head even more, pretending I was not seeing the passersby staring at me. 

“Really? But it’s so easy.” She sounded suspicious. “Are you sure you’re not making excuses not to come?”

I sighed deeply, “I wish it were the case, but it is not. I really cannot find my way there.”

I heard Shiokawa-san's muffled words as she talked to whoever was near her. I could not tell exactly what she was saying, but I understood she was explaining that I was at the station. 

“Shiokawa-san? I am going back to my apartment, if you do not mind,” I informed my classmate. 

She ignored me and responded, “Just wait there.” She ended the call abruptly.

I looked at the device in my hand and blinked a couple of times, confused. 

Rude much?

I pondered whether I should stay there or return to my apartment. After a minute of deliberation and feeling sorry that I had spent so much time getting ready for that night, I decided to go with the former. Therefore, I rose to my feet and leaned against the wall, coming to terms with my fate. 

“The sky is so beautiful,” I whispered to myself, smiling in awe at the stars twinkling faintly in the dark sky above me. I closed my eyes and made a wish. “Please, help me go home to the castle soon because I greatly miss my family and the kingdom. Please, help me endure my journey here in Tokyo and accomplish the goals I am supposed to. Ah, and please, protect the angels from the demons’ attacks.”

The next thing I knew, I was recalling special moments I had experienced with my brothers in the castle, smiling a nostalgic smile and wiping away tears of loneliness.

“Fukuyama-san.” A male voice cut through the cold air.

My eyelids fluttered open in response, my mouth hanging open in surprise when I saw the familiar handsome face right before me, his eyes bored into me, and his lips twitching ever so slightly upward.

“Demon Boy?” I shook my head. “I mean… I mean… Ahn…”

What is his name again? 

I panicked at the realization that I did not remember his name, thanks to my habit of referring to him as Demon Boy. 

The one and only tilted his head to the side, the smile he gave me next taking my breath away. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” He was right on point.

I looked away from him, my cheeks blushing scarlet. “No, I do not,” I told the truth, embarrassed.

Much to my astonishment, he chuckled heartily, widening his already glorious smile. “Then, let me formally introduce myself to you… Princess,” he said, the last word carrying a hint of mischief. “My name is Yusuke Hasegawa, and I am delighted to meet you.” He fell on one knee, took my right hand, and kissed it, his soft lips touching it like a gentle breeze brushing against my skin.

I gasped, my eyes growing wide. My body’s initial response was to tense up. However, as much taken aback as I was, I suppressed the wish to remove my hand from his grasp and stayed still, my princessly manners overcoming my—what should I call it, human emotions, perhaps? I even forced a small smile, all the while my heart almost leaping out of my chest.

Once I was out of stupor, I curtsied in return. “Nami Fukuyama. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He gazed at me intensely for a brief moment before asking, “Will you grant me the honor to escort you to the karaoke, My Lady?”

Why is he addressing me as though he knows I am a real princess? Is he making fun of me, or is that his normal behavior toward girls? By the way, why is he here?

He tilted his head to the side again. “Have I said something wrong?”

I hesitated. “Where is Shiokawa-san?”

“She is at the karaoke with our other friends.” He extended his hand toward me. “Please, allow me to take you there.”

I glanced at his outstretched palm and ignored it, strutting away without uttering a word. I heard Demon Boy chuckle as he came after me, and as he walked by my side, his right shoulder touched my left one from time to time, sending shockwaves of electricity down my spine. 

The tension between us was palpable. The realization that I was trusting a demon to take me to the karaoke, coupled with the awareness that the most handsome and popular student from Mori Senior High School was escorting me and that it was the first time I was alone with a boy other than my brothers and angel teachers, made me feel numb and bashful. 

To distract myself from Demon Boy’s closeness, I focused on the sounds my boots made against the concrete on the sidewalk, disregarding the people coming and going by me. 

Out of nowhere, a drunken man lurched toward me and exclaimed, “What a beautiful lady. You’re a vision. I want you to be my wife.” His red face was almost touching mine, and his breath of alcohol on my nose made me sick.

I flinched, disgusted and scared.

In one quick movement, Demon Boy pushed the man away and stepped in front of me, his tall frame towering over and protecting me from danger. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on or talk to her,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“What are you? Her boyfriend?” the drunken man sneered.

Demon Boy stayed silent.

After a minute or two, the drunken man raised his hands in defeat and stumbled away from us, but not before winking at me and blowing me a kiss.

Ew.

Demon Boy brought his attention to me. “Are you all right?” He looked and sounded quite concerned.

I nodded, though my trembling body gave away the fear I was feeling.

Humans are scary.

He entwined our fingers together nonchalantly without asking me for permission and resumed leading me to our destination. It all happened so fast that I simply could not—or did not wish to—refuse his gesture.

Was it weird that a small part of me was actually enjoying his proximity? Was it unacceptable that I was ready to admit that I was attracted to him physically and even emotionally despite not knowing his personality? Did it make me a terrible angel that I did not want that moment with the demon to come to an end?

“It’s too cold tonight,” complained Demon Boy as a cold gust of wind spread strands of his silky and shining hair all over his face.

I gawked at him, mesmerized by his boyish charm.

He ran his free hand through his hair in a vain attempt to fix it before shaking a fist in the air. “Damn you, cold. I hate you. I hate you.”

As he cursed the invisible, I inspected his outfit—a black shirt, a red puffer jacket, dark jeans, and dark tennis shoes. I also took notice of the golden necklace with a red gem on his neck. 

“Where are you, summer? I need you. I want you. Please, come find me and save me from this torturous cold spring,” he continued ranting, still shaking a fist in the air.

He does not like cold weather, does he? Well, on top of him being a demon and me being an angel, that is another significant difference between us, as I absolutely love cold weather and despise hot one.

After my unpleasant encounter with the drunken man, I did my best to pay attention to the humans near us; only then did I realize that every woman who laid their eyes upon the boy next to me began blushing, smiling, and giggling, some of them even going as far as ogling him without a hint of shame in the world, and glaring daggers at me as though wishing me a slow and painful death.

Speaking of slow and painful death, I wondered if Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-was was at the karaoke—I really hoped she was not because it was evident that she regarded me as a threat and felt the need to make me disappear somehow.

I glanced at Demon Boy, who looked lost in his thoughts and oblivious to the women around us blatantly swooning over him. I recalled the shadow of the demon form I had seen on his human one when we first met, acknowledging that he was gorgeous both ways. As a matter of fact, I found him more handsome with his light red eyes, dark red hair, and dark brown horns. 

I covered my mouth, flabbergasted at myself. What am I thinking? I cannot and shall not find a demon attractive. Father and Mother would be disappointed in me if I did.

“We’re here,” Demon Boy announced, gesturing at the massive building in front of us. “Our friends are waiting for us inside.”

Our friends? 

He said something to the two clerks in the lobby area and guided me to the stairs without letting go of my hand; on the contrary, he tightened his grip. Yet again, I neither felt the need to object nor to pull away, as I was quite pleased that he was holding onto me so firmly. 

What is this tingling sensation running throughout my body? Why do I feel like smiling and giggling for no reason?

On the second floor, we stopped before a door where muffled sounds of someone singing terribly out of tune, animated chatter, and laughter greeted us. Demon Boy shot me a look I could not decipher before smiling and nodding, probably reassuring me that everything would be okay. As he held the knob, I reached out and curled my fingers around the fabric of his puffer jacket.

“What is it?” he asked, his mouth hanging open slightly in surprise.

I took a deep breath and thanked him sheepishly. “Thank you for escorting me and protecting me from the disgusting drunken human.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Drunken human? What a peculiar way to refer to the man.”

I averted my eyes from him immediately, silently scolding myself for being so careless with my words.

Demon Boy held my chin and tilted it up, his gaze bored into mine. “You’re welcome.” 

I gasped, my face and ears almost combusting. Much to my relief, he opened the door and led me into a big room, where about ten humans—I mean, schoolmates—were having the time of their lives. 

* * *