"B- black hand?" Heon frantically looked at some point over the other's shoulder.
Sunny noticed, despite Heon's might to hide his foreign appendage. Well, why did he even try? Who wouldn't notice such a stark contrast anyway?
Heon's skin was slightly tanned, but it was so many shades lighter than the black hand that cloaked man unilaterally attached to him. He got nauseous at the reminder.
For the record, Heon was only a seventeen-year-old teenager about to have his high school graduation exam and the university entrance exam a couple of months from now.
He was not – Heon emphasized – a hero incarnate from another realm, nor was he reincarnated to be a hero in this realm. He also never had been a smooth talker. For goodness sake, he had never been social either. Not that he was a loser who liked being alone and always having lunch in the corner by himself. But, how would one ever expect him to be a hero?
Besides, who needed a hero?
What he was trying to say was that he had zero interest in this heroism business.
But Sunny – aptly named, he had to say, because he was a real sunshine. Please mind the sarcasm – apparently liked to roleplay and answer his own question with freedom of creativity.
So, pardon him while he stumbled on his words after hearing Sunny exclaim without prompting, "Oh, is that your special power God gave before you agreed to be reincarnated as a hero here?"
"Wha- uhm… I mean, I, maybe?" Heon knew it would be easy just to say yes. "Yes."
"Cool!" Sunny's face brightened. It was also the first time Heon got a good look at the manic boy's face.
To say that Sunny was more handsome might hurt his pride a little. Heon was pretty confident in his good looks, but he also wasn't a dashing boy who made girls' head turns every time he walked past them.
There were many noticeable things about Sunny. For example, his fiery red hair. Heon didn't know if it was dyed or natural for his kind. Though, he still hadn't figured out what kind he was.
Definitely not human, according to Sunny. But aside from his red hair, he looked normal. Like a regular boy around his age, normal.
But, his choice of clothes was not usual in Heon's eyes. Though perhaps it was normal in this realm. He had yet to meet another being in this realm, so he wouldn't judge in that regard.
To put it simply, Sunny was dressed in a dark, basic yukata[1] and white haori[2] with red flower motifs around the sleeves and hem. He was barefoot, but a white and red kitsune mask hung from the tactical duty belt he wore.
Heon wondered if hiding his face was more important than protecting his feet.
But, what interested Heon was not the mask nor his fiery red hair. It was the big, shiny jade beads acting as a necklace hanging in front of his chest. He also wore some smaller jade beads on both wrists. A sore clashing look to his personality, in Heon's opinion.
"What? You want my pretty stones?," Sunny suddenly said, seemingly reading Heon's mind. Or perhaps, he took too long to ogle the manic boy's appearance.
"Why are you wearing so many of them?"
Sunny huffed, "Can't a man enjoy something without being criticized?"
"It's just–"
"Seriously, you're the one with a black left hand. You don't have any right to insult me."
"I'm not insulting you." Heon also wondered why the manic boy was so cross with him. "Sorry."
They fell silent then. The heavily pouring rain had diminished into pitter-patter. Though the soil was still muddy and slippery, the big and thick canopy from above shielded them from most of the rain.
Sunny suddenly stopped. Shoulders tensed. Heon looked to his left and right, alarmed. He didn't hear a sound. Except for the shower rain and rustling leaves.
Rustling leaves. When both of them were standing still. Heon opened his mouth, but Sunny lifted a hand. A universal gesture to keep silent.
A growl. Coming from the bushes. A beast.
Heon gulped, terrified of the unknown. He glanced to his right.
Sunny was smiling. Manic glints in his eyes. His left hand slipped under his open white yukata, behind his back. Brandishing another knife, only as long as his forearm. The sharp edge gleamed, waiting for the beast to show itself.
And what a beast that was.
Crouching on four dirty paws, its maw opens wide to let them catch the rows of sharp teeth and fangs. Its fur stood on end, colored in black and white. An albino tiger. Only two sizes bigger.
Heon's breath hitched, a whimper stuck in his throat. But, Sunny.
Oh, Sunny, like the manic boy that he was, advanced first towards the tiger – the beast that eyed the prey. A man-made knife clashed against the animal's mighty claws.
Flurries of black and white, both man and beast. Heon was a mere useless spectator, frozen on his feet. He forced himself to flee, to hide behind thick bushes. No intention to die here. Not when he was barely alive after being reincarnated to another realm and escaped the manic boy's impromptu attack.
Sunny didn't show any fear. A grin was in place. He took an act of revenge, countering with a stab to the white tiger's front leg. Even after the tiger had just clawed his thigh, leaving three bloody marks there.
To be honest, that might be a mere poke for the beast. But Sunny's shallow stab was many times better than Heon's cowardice.
Oh, but it was a survival instinct, really.
Heon didn't think he'd even stand a chance to fight. Heck, he was just a high school student thrown into another realm. Not a hero in the making, like what Sunny claimed him to be.
So, when the giant tiger pounced on Sunny and mauled his body, Heon drowned in dread. Liquid red sprayed out from the trampled red-haired boy, pattering along with the light rain.
He didn't see all the gore but got enough imagination to know about it. About the demise of the person who almost killed him earlier. He fell on his arse, body shaking in unrestrained fright.
The tiger roared, announcing its gruesome victory. It turned around, glowering at him with its piercing wild eyes above its snarling, bloody maw.
Prowling forward, the huge white tiger locked Heon as its next target. It sprang on its legs, intending to kill him.
Heon screamed. A terror-fueled cry reverberated in his entire being in the form of surging energy.
Foreign.
Warm in nature.
Instinctively, Heon lifted a hand. His left one was black with the white seams in the middle of his forearm. A move he never did, but the muscle memory pushed it forward. His palm facing the beast.
The warmth intensified into a flare. Like a coal on his palm, burning. Searing.
Seizing the beast.
It dropped down. Still growling, fur stood on its end. A case of forced obedience. One which he didn't understand.
Heon heaved. Wide-eyed at the impossible thing happening right in front of him. He let out a shaky breath, knees turning into jelly.
"What did you do?" Sunny's voice came from behind the beast lying on its belly. Verdant green glowed from his hand, hovering on his rapidly closing wounds. "What the hell did you just do?"
Shoulders sagging down, Heon looked at his black left hand. "I don't know…"
"How could you not know?"
Incredulous, he grumbled, "How could I know? This never happened in my entire life."
Sunny stared at him, dumbfounded. He huffed, ambling around the growling beast. He was also breathing hard; the shiny jade beads moved accordingly around his neck. "I don't know if I should be impressed or not, but you're really one of a kind, aren't you?"
The wild glint came back as Sunny grinned wolfishly at him. Heon sensed that there was a lie beneath the other boy's remark. His hunch told him to not trust the manic boy completely. But he got no one else here.
"Let me see your hand," Sunny held his palm out, wiggling his fingers, awaiting Heon.
Hesitantly, he complied. Lifting the hoodie's sleeve to his elbow. "It's burning."
"Hmm…" Sunny muttered, puzzled at Heon's left hand.
Previously, the black color was only up to his wrist. It had cracked further, almost up to the middle of his forearm. Some of its jagged edges had crossed past the white seams.
Sunny frowned. A look of deep concentration. His tongue stuck out. The hand holding him glowed vivid green. Soothing the burn.
Heon saw how the black color crawled on his skin. Shrunken back to his wrist, then to the tip of his fingers until his left hand was the same color as his right one.
"You healed it," Heon marveled, flipping his left hand up and down to make sure that it wasn't a mere trick of lights. His face broke into a smile. "Thank you!"
But Sunny didn't share his excitement. Perplexed, he asked, "So, you really got it infected?"
"Hm?" His mind reeled back to their previous topic. "Oh, uhm… I don't know, actually. I woke up to find my hand discolored."
"And you don't remember what happened before that?"
"Well," Heon frowned, hesitating, "A cloaked man cut my arm off. Then, he attached a dead body's arm to me."
Sunny's eyes traveled to the white seams which remained on his forearm. Without warning, he drew a knife, probably from the waist pouch under his open yukata.
"Wha- what are you going to do?"
"Removing your arm," he stated enthusiastically.
_____
[1] Yukata: traditional Japanese clothes/ casual summer kimono.
[2] Haori: traditional Japanese hip- or thigh-length jacket worn over a kimono.