Visit Eight

The next day I gave Ensharra his food by actually setting it down physically and sat tiredly in my chair. Not being able to sleep made my magic harder to recover, which left me weirdly stiff and physically exhausted. I leaned my head back against the stone wall and lounged in my chair with my eyes closed.

“Are you going to sleep there, human” Ensharra questioned.

“I can’t sleep,” I plainly answered, “It’s making it harder to recover my magic. It’s also making me feel very stiff for some reason.”

“Is that why you didn’t use magic to slide my tray in?”

“Yeah, even that seems like too much right now.”

He scoffed, “Weak.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I yawned, “Weak human who can’t do anything right, I get it.”

He finished his food in silence and I stiffly reached for his tray when he scratched me with one of his claws.

“Ow, dude,” I pulled my hand back, “What the fuck was that for?”

“Look at the cut,” he ordered.

I glared at him but did so. Instead of blood flowing from the cut, there was ice.

“When you overexert yourself you freeze,” he explained.

“You couldn’t have just said that?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“Probably,” I stood up, glaring at him again, “Or at least I could have done it myself, instead of you just hurting me randomly.”

“It was as cathartic as shocking me was, I’m sure.”

I fazed through the bars, the cut on my hand growing a bit larger, “You know I’m getting real sick of this attitude. I just wanna help you and you just keep being a dick. As fun shocking you is I really just wanna…”

Instead of finishing my sentence I just hit him with the side of my fist on his abs. I know it didn’t hurt him at all. I wasn’t really intending on hurting him, that badly at least, I was just venting my frustrations.

“You wasted your magic just to give me a tap, human,” he chuckled, genuinely amused for probably the first time ever since we’ve started talking.

“I can give you a few more if you want,” I threatened, sorta light-hearted, but also I did just wanna hit him again.

“Why not? It was amusing.”

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

“Why’d you agree?”

“Because your anger is,” he paused, like he caught himself from saying something, “amusing.”

“What was that pause?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You will not get an answer.”

“So, there is an answer?”

“No.”

I exhaled sharply through my nose, irritated. I decided to take him up on his offer though and started hitting him. It was pretty half-hearted at first, as this was kinda weird. But after a few swings my anger and frustrations bubbled up again and I began really hitting him. Not that it did much more damage. A few minutes later I calmed, breathing a tad heavy.

“Do you feel better,” Ensharra asked.

“Why do you care,” I squinted suspiciously at him.

“I don’t.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I was being polite.”

“You? Polite?”

He glared at me, “Next time I won’t let you vent.”

“But why let me in the first place?”

“I am no longer answering your questions, human.”

I sighed as he walked away from me, the gold arrow on his tail almost hitting me. I fazed back through the bars, my wound growing more and I took his dishes. While I waited for it to be lunch I wrapped my hand. I knew Lucifer and Diavolo would ask about it but I was tired of looking at it. I didn’t enjoy the implications.

When lunchtime came I sat at my chair again as he ate in silence. I didn’t mind as I was too tired to make conversation. I needed to save that energy for the talk I’ll be having with Lucifer and Diavolo later. Which was not a fun one let me tell you what. You’d think they’d learn by now that I won’t be quitting just because he hurts me. He’s already tried to kill me multiple times. Getting scratched is pretty light stuff considering.

It took a few days for me to recover and then it was back to training. Though that also didn’t last for longer than a week. Longer than last time, but I was still getting overexerted so I took another break. Ensharra didn’t insult me too much this time, or maybe I’m getting used to it. I dunno.