Author's Note: I am uploading two chapters, that's why this one is a bit shorter, but the next one is longer.
"Bold" - Mizuki speaking.
(Alyssa POV)
"W-wait! Wait! L-Let me talk! PLEASE!" I yelled, letting out a desperate plea as my own hands defied my will again.
Mizuki... fuck, he was still in here. I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. And to make things worse, I had just talked shit about his mother's gift right to his face. There was no way he was letting me off the hook with just a sorry.
I swallowed hard as I made my decision.
"I... I sincerely apologize for what I said about the earrings,"
To my relief, the crushing grip on my throat loosened just a tiny bit, but that's all I needed. I had to keep talking to make him change his mind.
"I'm sorry, okay?! I know what I said was messed up... and I know those earrings mean a lot to you. So let's just... please, can we just talk this out?"
I swallowed my pride.
Here I was, asking forgiveness from a teenager. If it was the old me, I would've been humiliated, but when my second chance at life was on the line, nothing else matter anymore.
"You say that after you stole my body from me? I think we are way past talking peacefully."
It was the same voice I heard earlier, but this time, that rageful tone was gone. I would not call it gentle, but it was terrifyingly calm. A quick glance at the bathroom mirror confirmed it: the voice was coming directly from the grotesque, secondary mouth that had manifested on my cheek.
"It's not my fault! You have to understand!" I fought back with a slightly trembling voice.
"I just got hit by a truck, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in this world, inside your body! Trust me, I would never have chosen this if I had a say in it!"
The cheek-mouth went completely silent. It was as if his remaining neurons were struggling to process the absurdity of what I had just thrown at him.
"Wait...'this world'? And 'getting hit by a truck'?" The mouth then twisted into a sneer. "What kind of delusional otaku bullshit is that? Do you take me for a fool?" I watched in the mirror as a heavy sigh escaped his lips.
I won't say I didn't expect that reaction. What sane person would actually believe me? To him, I probably sounded like a "delusional otaku" who had completely lost touch with reality.
But his reaction also confirmed one very important detail I didn't notice earlier: he couldn't read my mind or access my memories. If he could, he would have known I was telling the truth. From his perspective, the idea that I was some kind of parasitic demon or a ghost using cheap manga tropes as a cover story was probably way more believable.
This is going to be incredibly difficult to talk my way out of.
…Or so I thought, until he spoke again.
"But sure, let's say I buy that ridiculous excuse for now," Mizuki conceded, and his tone shifted into something more authoritative. "I will give you a chance. You wanted a peaceful conversation? Fine."
"Look, I'm a reasonable guy, so let's just call a temporary truce. We can start by making a peace offering drink to calm ourselves so we can figure this out."
Huh? He agreed? Just like that?
Where's the 'It's my body so you will do as I say' routine? I had fully braced myself for the worst, but this was turning out to be for the better.
A drink though, with that condition of his? Yeah no way.
"Thank you, really, I mean it.," I replied as a massive wave of relief washed over my face. "But...a drink? You do realize your body can't handle alcohol, right? Or were you talking about non-alcoholic options?"
Based on what memories I had of him, Mizuki had incredibly high standards when it came to mixology. Drinking something ordinary like an ordinary juice was simply a crime against his personal code of conduct.
"Are you dumb on purpose or are you genuinely that stupid?" I saw the cheek-mouth visibly scoff.
"Why would you ever think I was talking about something alcoholic? A 'drink' doesn't automatically mean it's alcohol all the time. Wow…You're already ruining my pristine reputation as an aspiring mixologist. I am hurt~"
My brows twitched, but I forced myself to not show him any reaction he wanted out of me.
He really is full of himself, isn't he? What an arrogant little brat.
"Alright then, o-so-great mixologist in the making," I sighed as I offered him a forced smile.
"Would you care to guide this poor soul with your wisdom? What shall I make? A mocktail? A juice? Or a refresher?"
I had enough of his bullshit. If I wanted to survive this, I had to stop giving in to his provocations. I refuse to be rage-baited by a teenager a whole decade younger than me. For fuck sake I'm supposed to be the adult here!
"Haha, you catch on fast! Keep that attitude up and we'll be best buds in no time," the cheek-mouth chuckled as it let out that annoying voice of his again.
"Alright then, head over to the kitchen area. I will guide you to make the best drink you will ever have in your life."
The best drink, huh? I had to commend his confidence, at least.
"And what exactly is the name of your greatest creation...your highness?" I asked dryly.
In the bathroom mirror, I watched as the grotesque mouth on my cheek stretched into the widest grin I thought a human could ever make.
"It's called the Orange Death Supreme Mocktail, engrave that name in your mind."
I rolled my eyes at his edgy and weird sense of naming.
Then, I pulled a towel and dried my face with it before finally stepping out of the bathroom. My heartbeat had finally stabilized after that whole fiasco.
And once my body was at ease, my mind began to wander to places normal people's mind would never. He had literally manifested a mouth on my face, and that was something straight out of that anime with that blindfolded white haired guy.
I had so many questions, but I knew he had no answers because, in the end, he was just a normal human.
I lifted my right hand, staring at my empty palm as I walked toward the kitchen.
That will have to wait for now, I thought.
(POV End)
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