Boy Meets Alexa [Alvah, Mura]

If you knew Mura, you’d probably piss yourself laughing if you were to spot him present in these streets. You’d probably level up to shitting in a hysterical fit of laughter if you saw his face – he was not in the best mood, especially not in a mood fit for the area he was in. These were the streets his mum warned him against years ago – hell, she’d probably disown him if she knew he was walking around here now. Fortunately, he got his own flat now after the whole rehab shit he had to go through; China was slowly becoming less and less of a traumatic experience and more like a… distant, bad dream now.

And that was mainly ‘cuz of what happened with Kyūken. Where there was a hole, there was a goal, and that was one hell of a hole he did not want to see.

However, even if you won’t believe he, hear me out – this specific area had… certain entertainment platforms and traditions holding up, but those weren’t what he was here for. Though his distressed face often attracted a few passers-by to offer comfort and other ways to bring a smile back to his face, he… was internally distracted. In a daze, sort of.

What, you thought he had nerves of a movie veteran?

Just like that, he walked and walked in a simple leather jacket and jeans, the only notable things on him (other than his one-armedness) being the tsurugi he carried sheathed on his back, and the Matanpushi headband. Please, someone snap him out of his daze.

"See ya later, gals~" Came his honey coated voice, dripping with hidden malice and deeply concerning intentions.

He left them with a kiss through the evening air, his manicured fingers perfect as his glossy lips shined. If not for the horns atop his head, he'd appear as much a damsel as the sow he gossiped with. However, his presence carried a dark air, one that most women and men found intriguing. His large frame, somehow dainty despite his muscularity, shifting in the kimono wrapped around him. Its feminine charm seemed to hypnotize the drunken bastards about, their gazes leering. However, he's had his fill of the night and could care less for what they could offer.

What did catch his attention was the lone stranger that seemed so out of place one might think his intentions truly damning. For this Arrancar, that hardened expression and grizzled aura looked delightfully scrumptious. A fan in his right hand, its imagery opened, revealing a red sun in the beautiful night sky. It covered the underside of his face as he stepped along the same path as his fellow man and walked in silence.

"Why, what's a handsome lad like yourself doing all alone in a scary place like this?"

Truthfully, Mura would’ve preferred to ignore anyone trying to come up to him right now. He was that locked out of reality… but alas, he was only human. Strange things happened around him, and he’d ultimately have to respond. He had no grasp on fate.

Even so, this was a curious damsel. Even though Mura wasn’t intoxicated, who could tell the difference at first sight without some psychic- oh, those horns just came into view now. That, the aura – not the pressure, not the spirit, just the darn aura on its own – made Mura confident enough to conclude a thing or two.

“…”

Or maybe not. “Just taking a walk, I guess. I’m not out to get my rocks off, thanks.” Mura wasn’t certain if he should bother asking for directions – after all, the one-armed Ainu was actually looking for an arms dealer. Someone who could give him intel about smithing… he had a museum’s artifact he wanted to fix before returning it to China. You could tell why he wanted to be secretive about it.

His eyes, currently, were glued to the horns atop the courtesan’s head. They… reminded him of Veralia’s. Now that was a strange Arrancar he once met, and if his gut feeling was right, this one would be just as big an enigma as the last. It was unfortunate; he wanted to act completely normal with them, but maybe his human building blocks were telling him to be wary of species that looked like him but weren't him-

Or maybe he was just racist… shit, he hoped not.

"Rocks? My, my~ People don't throw rocks around here, hun~ Lest it be ice in a nice glass."

Such a downer, eh~ And here he is all worried about the little man. Though, most men are little to him.

"But it's not nice to lie to strangers, dear~ A weary man with a weapon so blatant is sure to draw attention, and with attention comes trouble."

Stepping a tad closer, Alvah closed his fan, showing the details of his face, his expression knowing, sinful, understanding. It's almost as if he could connect with the man in a way that none other could, bait on a hook. And with the swagger only one sure of themselves could have, he threw out a suggestion that he could only throw because this man who he is.

"You're looking for information, aren't you? Maybe something about your sword or missing arm, hmm?"

… Not those kinds of rocks… wait, was she joking? She was probably joking. Anyway, Mura was ready to move on, everything was good and all except for the business he was looking for – hopefully, he wouldn’t see this chick again – but then, he got called out on his bullshit-

Wait, no, it wasn’t even a lie. He wasn’t out to get his rocks off, and he was walking, wasn’t he? And so what about his weapon? He wasn’t drawing that much attention…

…

Maybe, but at the end of the day, why bother? “Don’t patronize me,” Mura retorted strangely, still carrying some light in his frowning eyes as his face was screaming [“I’m not used to being annoyed or grumpy, I rather be a goof and all, but get off my sack”].

However, by revealing the rest of her face, Mura’s eyes frowned more. That wasn’t a patronizing look… that was a devil’s look. Brilliant. Mura had always wondered what the Devil looked like – suitable place to find him, definitely. Human façade, human similarity, but inhuman eyes that stripped Mura’s soul naked, and brought up the topics he wanted to hear. Nasty.

“… *sigh* I am. Just my sword, that is. You’re not gonna report me, so… hmh, I had a place in mind, but… got any suggestions?”

"Depends on the price of your soul, boy~" Alvah explained. "You can find anything here, if you're willing to lose something~ I could point you to Leon, Hashima, or even Jasper, but it matters not if you have nothing to give in return."

But the part about the dangers of looking capable of incapable around here is left out. Why, a damsel is an easy target to snatch up. A man with expensive clothes is either a fool or too dangerous to bother. And a man missing an arm, carrying a sword? Why, he's dangerous or extremely gullible. He's after something or he has nowhere to go. The people of this district are all curious, and this particular individual must be lucky to have someone as gracious as Alvah guide him.

Oh, how gracious~

"All I require is a round and a half, and a simple why, and you'll be on your way to whatever you require~"

Mura did throw the pristine prostitute(?) a worried glance when the topic of putting a price on his soul came up. It was to be expected, eh? But still, to be so brazenly told that wasn’t something he prepared himself for – after all, he had money to spend, not another limb or something.

But when the damsel only requested a round… of beverage, most likely, Mura blinked twice then nodded in agreement. “Sure… I can give a round or two, if you want. Not much of a drinker myself, but as long as you help me out, I’ll give a toast.”

…

…

“… On second thought, I might need something heavy myself.”

Mura found himself face-palming a light pole, mumbling to himself in worry: “I promised her I wouldn’t become a heavy drinker… but I can unwind once in a while… I’m a responsible adult, definitely… am I, though? No, no, no, I d-don’t think I am… not yet, anyways… n-not right now, I’m not in the right headspace…”

…

And then, he returned to Alvah’s front, clearing his throat. “So what’s your name, if I may ask? My name’s Mura.”

"They call me Sylvia, dear~" Alvah lied.

He can see the strain in Mura's expressions, understand that there's things in his mind that would be a delicacy to prod. However, with all things in life, one must tread a slippery road to get to the juicy bits, whether it be a crab's shell, a bull's horns, or a man's ego. With the mention of something heavy, Alvah new exactly what to do.

"It seems life has had its fun with you, no, Mura? I know exactly what'll help you relax and find a little inner peace. Come with me~"

Sylvia, formally known as Alvah, would take Mura by his hand, hiding his nature with a surprisingly feminine grip, leading the ronan through the strife of this horrid district. They would pass the downtrodden and lame, the rich and ugly, and the pure and lost.

They would end up at a small hole, that required one to step down into the Earth's bosom, as if stepping into Hell's domain, a door opening that let the putrid stench of reality wash over the two as they stepped into the devil's den and witnessed the depravity of the world Mura calls home, and the world Alvah calls his playpen.