OKOSHI ─ jojolion.

001 | black bone dice.

content warning for descriptions of violence and blood

★ . . . THE PAIR OF BLACK BONE dice in your hand always stayed cold no matter how long you held them. The bone was glossed to a high shine and the small pips were a dull gold, glimmering whenever they caught the light. The clinking of the dice as you dropped them from one palm to the other was comforting. It got on people's nerves, you knew, but that was what your charming smile was for.

Left hand. Right hand. Left. As your hands moved, the brand on your hand blurred. It was barely there unless you were looking for it. It faintly resembled an unfurling flower spreading across the back of your hand.

Your family's private jet had not disappointed. The flight to Morioh was as pleasant as all the other flights you'd taken—to the Caribbean, Venice, Cairo. Cream and wood panelling, seats you could melt into, muted lighting and pretty flight attendants. As Karera had snored behind beside you, you'd looked out of the plane window, watching Morioh come together in neatly separated lots and streets and strips of green. It seemed very ... pedestrian. Apparently, the vacation villas here were of high regard, which was why your mother had bought one on her birthday. You'd gone with her to Morioh a few times as a child, but those trips had stopped once you got older and preferred more exciting destinations. Now you and Karera were here, not quite out of your own free will, but for a vacation nonetheless.

You slumped down further in the uncomfortable metal seat. A few thousand yen had let you through customs like a breeze, but then Karera had to go and catch some officer's attention. She hadn't even brought a backpack with her, so what they were questioning her about was anyone's guess. Boredom settled on you like a weighted blanket. If only there was someone who would play a game with you. There were plenty of people bustling about the airport terminal, but they were all too preoccupied to pay you any mind. Your mouth felt like sawdust. Lazily, you eyed the vending machines a few feet away.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

A guy approached you then, doing so with a deliberateness that suggested he'd been looking for you. You tilted your head as he stopped in front of you. His upper lip curled when you made eye contact.

"Thought you'd be a lot hotter."

Not even a hello. Your lips curled but you didn't smile. "You're one to talk."

The guy was probably around your age, just on the edge of his twenties. His scalp hadn't decided whether it wanted hair or to go bald, and so flat black hair fell over the front and back of his head but nowhere else. His entire face seemed made for sneering, a curled lip, slanted, narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. The longer you stared at his face, the more unpleasant it seemed.

"Ever tried to smile?" you asked mildly.

He only scowled harder.

"You're L/N Y/N, right? The rich brat I'm supposed to pick up from the airport?"