“Come oooooon, Hakka~! I thought you were gonna catch me!”

Banzoin Hakka grits his teeth as Flayon croons at him through the R-TRUS loudspeaker.

The day had started relatively normal in the Tempus guild hall. It was Magni’s turn to make breakfast, nobody was making too much of a fuss, and all was well as they sat together and ate. The problems quickly began when, while Hakka was explaining the difference between the words asta and hasta to a curious Altare, Flayon quickly darted over and took the sausages off of Hakka’s plate.

The purple-haired exorcist stared blankly ahead as Flayon happily munched away. This was not the first time this had happened. It wasn’t even the first time this week! Hakka’s fingernails dig into his palms.

“What’s up, Hakka? You seem a bit upset!” Flayon casually remarked, cheekily poking his tongue out at the boy with an exaggerated wink.

Hakka feels something snap in his mind. Everyone at the table slowly gets up and backs away, watching as a very visible vein appears on Hakka’s forehead.

“¡Hijo de puta! ¡Lo he tenido hasta aquí contigo!”

“Uh, what’d he say—”

Flayon was cut off when he was forced to dodge the chair thrown at his head.

“Every single FUCKING time! I am sick and tired of you doing this shit, you pint-sized BRAT.”

Hakka cracks his knuckles and approaches the younger boy, to which Flayon skitters back with wild eyes. This lasts for only a couple of seconds however, because the redhead develops an absolutely shit eating grin as he slowly rises off of the floor. Hakka is in the process of drawing a set of talismans from the inside of his shirt when Flayon blows a raspberry at him, before sticking up his middle finger in a stunning act of defiance.

“Catch me if you can, bird boy! You’ll get a prize if you do!”

Later accounts by Vesper Noir and Magni Dezmond seemed to think Hakka turned into a purple blur as he tried to wrap his hand around Flayon’s throat. The shorter boy has a wiry frame however, and that allows him to slip free and book it towards the door.

By the time they reach the outside, the R-TRUS is already parked in front of the guild hall. Flayon moves like a bat out of hell as he scrambles into the cockpit, only to squeak as Hakka barely nails him with a fire talisman. The shot whizzes by and flickers into the cloudless sky, but it’s enough motivation for Flayon to jam the keys against the mech until it finally starts. The boy pulls it up into the sky, and laughs at Hakka all the way.

That brings us to the present moment, where Hakka is sticking those talismans to the undersides of his shoes.

Hakka had been in this business for a while. He knew exactly how to channel elements through the weathered paper, how to paint the perfect brush strokes in order to make miracles real in the relentless pursuit of exorcising ghosts and demons from this world. What he had never done before was sticking air talismans to himself in order to make an impromptu bounce pad.

Well, there’s a first time for anything. He channels energy into his feet and flies right into the fucking air after the little shit.

Hakka can see Flayon’s eyes widen in the cockpit, and the audible scream as the bird-boy collides with metal and drops to the ground motionlessly was enough to net the guild an official noise complaint from the Elysian government.

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Pub: 06 Jul 2023 07:16 UTC

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