The Loser | by Isaac7525

The Umbridge had forsaken me at this critical moment, just like that? Why would they leave so abruptly? 

I shoved all my previous emotions aside, stood back up and dusted my outfit off. I had looked like a whimpering, crying fool around the deity because of my problems, my inability to forget the past and move on like they said I should. 

The best I could do for the time being was complete the given assignments. I wasn't going to cry and sulk for the next few hours simply because they left me for an unknown time period. After making a quick deduction with the knowledge I had learned, The Umbridge most likely wasn't far from the current location, as the bond between a Spirit Creature and its host was unique!

"I know you're not far from here." I said, gazing upwards into the blackened fog. This time, no pairs of eyes surfaced, and no illusory voice signalled for me.

At that moment, the Blood-Moon Charm in my pajama pocket buzzed erratically, and the illusory sound of the door opening from the real world instantly snagged my attention. In an instant, I transferred my physical and mental body down to the real world, gazing towards the doorway in half a second. If the charm went off due to an abnormal change or spiritual presence, I had to quickly find out what it was. 

The door was left slightly ajar, the darkness of the hallway protruding into the room. I narrowed my eyes, attempting to discern any environmental changes that could have caused the charms abnormal reaction. Suddenly, the Blood-Moon Charm buzzed again—with more ferocity than before. 

Before I could react, I felt a pair of cold hands coil around my mouth, preventing me from breathing. A woman with pale skin, whitened hair and a pair of black eyes with yellow pupils manifested from the shadows, extending their forked tongue from their mouth and trailing it along the edge of my cheek. She was clad in Florence's pink nightgown. 

Just then, it hit me. This was Florence—The Umbridge's guess had been correct!

…

Shinso dropped the unfamiliar concept, blaming it on some obscure term he learned in a history book that corresponded to a lesson he was learning in alchemy. Florence didn't seem to find it peculiar, as she kept walking without making any additional comments. 

"Either the men of the era don't favour lavish women, or they aren't tolerable with kids," Florence guessed, continuing the topic from a short while ago. 

"I mean, most men I've met possess a good ethic; they wouldn't want to be treated lavishly," Oboro commented as he continued walking forward. 

Florence suddenly froze as she continued staring forward. "Reminds me of a man I once knew, and loved." 

She turned back to the duo and smiled. "Though, I'm sure he would have loved the babysitting occupation." 

Shinso and Oboro fell silent. A faint blush crept up Shinso's cheeks, causing him to turn away slightly. "We can both relate, I guess."

Seeing this, the woman chuckled softly. "You must care about him deeply."

Shinso nodded his head. "I do, but…" 

He trailed off for a few moments, his attention gravitated towards the falling snow. "When I showed my love for him, he didn't seem like he wanted to love me back." 

Florence took a step towards Shinso and smiled. "Just because they don't instantly like you back doesn't mean they don't love you at all."

Just then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a photo. It showcased two people clad in farm attire. One of them was Florence, and the other was a man standing beside her, holding her hand. They stood in an open field, a long outcrop with evergreen trees in the distance. 

"That's my husband, Nicholas." 

Shinso and Oboro gazed down at the photo for a brief moment before looking back up at her. "Why isn't he with you then?" 

The blonde-haired woman sighed softly, her expression softening a little as she began to explain. "He and I were farmers a few hundred miles from here. His parents kicked him out of their house for being—in their words, a freeloader." 

Her thumb absentmindedly traced tiny circles around the man's face as she continued explaining, her gaze never having left the photograph. 

"Though, me and my family favored him; he had already come for dinner numerous times. In the end, we let him into our house, and eventually, me and him got wed in the woods." 

She looked down at the photo, smiling. "They even hired a photographer, a luxury only kingdom-dwellers can attain."

Florence tucked the photo back into her pocket. "Unfortunately, trouble envies those who are fortunate. The Seraphis Kingdom district stopped by our farm, informing us of the new act that would sell all of our profits in their direction. In return, our farm could grow larger and make more money, at the expense of our crops going only to them." 

"So they straight up let you starve?" Shinso's fists involuntarily clenched at his sides as he kept walking. 

"In a way…yes." Florence responded as they rounded a corner. 

Suddenly, a figure lunged out of the shadows. A short, young man carrying a pocket knife pointed it directly to Florence's throat. The woman tensed, her face visibly turning pale as she failed to move a muscle. 

"How bout' you and I go somewhere more…private." He leaned in closer, his hot, putrid breath forming a small puff of mist as it left his mouth. 

Shinso remained frozen, his gaze fixated on the knife in the man's hand. Feeling a hot surge of anger course through him, he clenched his fists tighter and approached the man. It seemed like his muscles were moving on their own, as the closer he slowly stumbled, the more he regretted this decision. 

"Shinso!" Oboro cried out. 

Just then, the indigo-haired boy was caught off guard the moment the knife graced his direction. The attack cut across his cheek, but it was barely deep enough to bring up blood. Shinso raised his hand to his cheek, feeling the warm liquid slowly drip down his face. 

He looked back at the man, whose icy black eyes gave an inscrutable warning sign. 

"Don't try anything, kid. I'll dice you to pieces; we all will." The man's voice was low as smiled, bearing a grin that showcased all of his rotten teeth. 

"We?" Shinso froze, his body running cold like the surrounding air. 

At that moment, he felt a pair of hands snatch him from behind, wrapping around his waist and pulling him backwards into the street. Shinso slammed his head back, sending himself into the unknown attacker. The collision was enough to loosen the grip, and the sudden sensation of freedom robbed off Shinso's balance for a few moments. 

He darted back to his attacker, another man. He was a little taller than Shinso, and he was clad in all white attire—an outfit akin to a jumpsuit. 

The man let out a low growl as he ran towards Shinso again, lowering his body and ramming himself into the boy head on. The attack sent Shinso back again, sending the boy tumbling down the snow-covered street. 

Florence remained still as the knife continued to hover around her throat, while Oboro wasted no time in assisting Shinso. He removed his breasted coat and dashed into the street, leaping into the air and landing a kick to the jumpsuit-clad man's left jaw. 

Shinso watched in astonishment as the bottom of his boots lit up with a faint blue. Oboro jumped up again, literally running on the air as he continued to brawl with the attackers. He leapt around like a cat, the enhanced boots enabling his agility to go beyond regular human constraints. 

His gaze immediately fell back to Florence and the knife-bearing attacker. With a low groan, he stood back up and shook off the debris and snow that clung to his attire. Rolling up his sleeve, he dashed towards the man and raised his fist, landing a punch to his cheek. 

He was sent back a short stumble, but he quickly recovered his equilibrium in time to dodge the next attack. Raising his head, he scanned his surroundings for anything he could use to subdue this attacker aside from his knife. 

Just then, Shinso's lips curled upwards into a smile. "How many men do you think it'll take to stop my friend?" He asked, gesturing towards Oboro, who was subduing the attackers with little effort.

"Heh, maybe—" 

The man's eyes glazed over, turning an icy-white shade. He fell silent as his lower lip slacked downwards. A trail of drool and saliva trickled from his mouth, running down his chin and landing in the snow. 

"Always the confrontational ones." He scoffed, tucking his hands back into his pockets. 

He turned back to Florence, the woman looking taken aback by the sudden change in the man's demeanor. "I would interrogate him now, but my abilities doesn't allow him to perform complex actions." 

"Right…" Florence seemed too stunned to get out a proper sentence. 

Shinso turned back to the man, letting out a low, tired sigh. "Sit down and think about what you've done, ok?"

The man with glazed eyes silently obeyed the given commands, sitting down in the frigid snow and staring blankly at the wall. Shinso was about to join Oboro, but he looked back to the man, his lips curling into a smirk. 

"While you're at it, mind giving my friend here your shirt, she looks awfully cold." 

Oboro landed another kick to one of the men, sending them back. His spiritual intuition clocked in shortly after, causing him to weave to the side and dodge another attack. Extending his left foot, he landed a kick to the surprise attackers back, sending him into the other man. 

Oboro scoffed once all the men were disposed of, lying in the middle of the road like discarded pieces of trash. He took out a pipe from his pocket and blew into it, letting out a trail of smoke as he exhaled. 

"Y'know smoking'll kill you if you don't die in battle." Shinso commented, stepping beside Oboro and observing the scene. 

"If smoking really is detrimental like you claim, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead by now." 

He suddenly extended his right hand to Shinso, looking down at him as he offered a smile. Shinso's lips curled up, bearing a small grin as they both high-fived.