We make it inside the ranch house. I can finally give out a sigh of relief. That was a close

  encounter. Too close for my liking. Flugel was everything that I despised about this place. About Korioh Landings. About the system set up here.

  I look back at the girl, small, not even comparable in height to me. She couldn’t be any older than…13. But I’m just going off of human anatomy. I barely know anything about Oni.

  Her orange eyes—bright like the sun, yet always dimmed, as if by her own will. She takes a few glances at the place. At the sight of it. I get it. It’s overstimulating.

  But she doesn’t gawk, or marvel at the place. I’m assuming the thought of punishment is still weighing on her mind.

  I meet the maid, but her eyes don’t go for me instantly, they go to the girl. Even for a split second, they make contact, but it’s broken away.

  I take the stairs to the right. She follows. Step for step. Her pace never slowed down, equally with mine. I open the grand doors, and invite her right in. She doesn’t look at me, and enters.

  I sigh, before I slam the doors close. For dramatic effect.

  She jumps, slightly. The sharp noise catching her off guard.

  This room was built for comfort. A king-sized bed, velvet curtains framing the high windows, polished wooden floors that reflected the chandelier’s glow. But it wasn’t comfortable. It felt like a stage. A place where power was meant to be flaunted, not lived in.

  There was rooms, and doors, a whole lot of them, but I’m not here to explore that. First things first.

  Punishment.

  I scan the room, and find a perfect spot. I point there, “Stay there.”

  She doesn’t give me a subtle nod, or even a flinch of resistance. She obeys. She goes immediately.

  There’s a long table. Filled with drinks, but I can barely read any of them. I need to buy time to come up with a punishment, because this is not how I expected my intern day to go.

  I rake a hand through my hair. This is ridiculous. What the hell am I supposed to do? I glance at her—she hasn’t moved an inch. She’s waiting.

  No.

  She’s bracing.

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  The longer I stall, the worse it looks.

  I callback to my memories, anything, everything. It’s distant, still, but I can still tug on it. My mom has never punished me, not much. I used to remember the reason why, but even that is unclear to me.

  School. What about school? Did I get any punishments there? My brain hurriedly searches for anything. But I can’t. There’s nothing. Worse thing that has happened to me was detention. Nothing physical.

  I don’t have it in me to do anything verbal. Bashing and humiliating people were never my strong points, I can try...but it will probably sound like rubbish. Won’t do anything mental either.

  Fuck it, I still need more time. I turn to the mirror, and see her in the reflection. She stares at me, but not for long. She sneaks a few glances, but it’s as if looking at me is the equivalence of looking at the sun.

  She can’t do it for long before her eyes automatically retreat to somewhere else. Was she taught this here? Or just another characteristic?

  If there’s nothing in my mind, then the one thing I do remember, is this.

  I used to say this was on par with punishment, but the old geezer did know how to talk someone’s ears off.

  It’s Coach Monologue time.

  I take out a shot glass. Never thought that I would be doing this, but I need to buy time if that wasn’t clear enough. I already know my punishment might not be that bad as whatever Flugel wants, or what she expects.

  The bottles of drinks look back at me, where’s the Apple Cider? I don’t drink, and I would never. No point in it. I take a random bottle and pop the corkscrew, pouring into the shot glass.

  “So,” My voice is clear, concise. A stark contrast to my internal conflict. I take a look in the mirror. Her posture straightens and fixes the moment I begin.

  “Tell me, what’s your name?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I turn to her, shot in hand. Moving it around. I’m trying my best to look intimidating. But look at me, I don’t. Nobody has ever looked at me, and would be like…yeah, I’m scared of Lucien.

  Maybe during fencing, but that’s different.

  She looks at me, not a puzzling look, but one of fear. It doesn’t take her long to answer, though.

  “R-Rei.” Her voice is soft, but not as young as I thought it would sound. Which leads me to another question.

  I take a shot from the glass, the taste of strong blueberries, and peach overwhelm my mouth. I’m almost provoked to spit the thing back into the glass, but I don’t. One gulp is all it takes.

  It wasn’t bad…but not good either. I don’t know who thought that was a good fruit combo.

  I look at her, studying her. We meet eye contact for a brief moment, and then she looks away again.

  “You’re special.” I begin, and that immediately catches her attention. Way to go Lucienstein. If it wasn’t apparent by her gleaming and odd red skin.

  “How old are you?”

  She fumbled with her hands. Yet, once again, she doesn’t waste time answering.

  “F-fifteen.”

  I cough slightly, in reaction to hide my sudden shock. Fifteen? As in, 15? 1. 5? I thought she couldn’t be no older than 13. Much less a teenager. Clearly my knowledge is only limited. Next time I won’t be trying to play the guessing game.

  I sigh. How much longer do I have to stand here, sip this god-awful berry drink, and pretend I know what I’m doing? Monologuing to her must’ve slipped my mind, because now?

  I’m more interested in the premise of her than anything.

  Now, now. I know that sounds bad, and I don’t initially mean that message in a Flugel-like way, but someone like her? At the age of 15? We aren’t that far off from age as I thought we were. If anything, if I was an Oni like them too, I would be in slavery.

  I’m supposed to stall, or I think that was the plan. Maybe slap her on the hand and tell her if it happens again, I won’t be so lenient.

  But unfortunately, I’m starting to think that if I’m to nice to begin with, my cover might be blown. I won’t fit into the system, and I have no doubts they wouldn’t help reform me, or even better, kick me out.

  I’ve exhausted all of my options, and even the ones that are clear might affect me in the long run.

  I sigh.

  This is going to be hard, Rei.

  “Rei, I’m going to keep this short.” I say, and it catches her attention.

  “I don’t like your people.”

  The words practically punch her. I see her widen her eyes in surprise. Yeah, it’s easy to assume each ranchmaster is the same, but for some reason, she’s still surprised as to what I said. Surprised as if…I would be different.

  She keeps her head low, breaking away from my face.

  “I-I’m sorry m-master.”

  I cringe at the sentence. Master? I’m not the master of anything. I’m just playing the part. This hurts me a whole lot more than it’ll hurt you. You think I want to do this? I wanted an easy intern day. Just hoping none of you would mess up.

  To even apologize for your own race? Rei, I don’t know if I am madder at the fact that you did that…or that you genuinely believe what I’m saying is true.

  “Disgusting, ugly creatures. I don’t want to even begin on how you lot even having worth. Rei, if I so much as I desired, I could have you shipped off.”

  Her eyes widen again, and my heart shrinks with each word that leaves my mouth. It’s not what I want to say, but I’ve taken an understanding into the place. Even being here for a day, helped me understand the culture here.

  But her face. It’s not like she’s ignoring me. She’s listening to me. She’s actually believing every word that comes out of my mouth.

  I take a step closer, Rei doesn’t move. She wouldn’t dare move.

  “Your life to me makes no difference than that of a summer ant. You are not a person, you are nothing more than property. You do understand I can do anything to you, right? Go ahead. See if everyone is here to help. You saw it earlier. They all turned their faces.”

  I get close to her, and I force a creepy smile upon my face. C’mon. Method acting. Learning a thing or two from Elise surely has taught me a lot. Even if I can barely remember most of our instances now.

  I bite my lip—play the part.

  I drag my hand across her face. It’s warm, and soft. Her eyes have nowhere else to look, and they're forced upon mine.

  C’mon, show me something. Whine. Break. Cry. Complain. Anything, Rei. Just anything will get you out of this.

  She doesn’t bite for it. I have to keep the momentum going. I need to increase the heat.

  “It’s simply the rule of law and nature. Humankind were always destined to dominate barbaric creatures like you.” I softly grab her horn, the one that has a slight gash into it. She flinches.

  My eyes caught that. She didn’t flinch because of the feeling of my hand on her horn. She flinched because my hand even moved.

  She was practically anticipating a slap. Or even something physical.

  Someone has been beating her.

  Flugel?

  Anyone else?

  I don’t think of much.

  Our eyes lock contact again.

  And then, her eyes well up. She’s been trying to hold it for the longest. But it ran down.

  A single tear down her cheek.

  I blink, before wiping the tear from her cheek.

  Then that’s when I got the idea.

  The perfect punishment for someone like her.