Notes from the Author: This is dedicated to everyone who had read this story and has been patient with my erratic updates. I have already said, the characters here are… well, you know quite different from what they really are in the manga.

Special mention goes to InnerFlame98, Snivy8276, Tie-Dyed Broadway, aqsashahanii123, shannon0502, AvatarMomo (for you i fixed the probs)and some Guest reviewer for their support last chapter (which I had posted quite long ago). They filled me with awesome happiness complete with an upbeat music for background. Thank you for the kindness.

Now, I shall raise the curtain.

:::

Sixth Tale

The Prince, the Witch and the Unexpected Visitor

:::

"YOU, YOU!" Misaki shrieked, wide eyes bloodshot and raging, "How dare you to set my house on fire?!"

The lost prince of Kingdom West Lazuli raised his head, he stared.

"Don't you dare move!" the witch dropped her words with utmost urgency. Imposing. Panicking. With ardent burning eyes.

Takumi gave a curious look, blinking his green eyes twice and brows furrowing in a way she was sure majority of ladies would found it adorable. But Misaki found it creepy (sorry, she was definitely not one of those ladies) especially when he barely flashed his teeth.

"You're weird," he almost whispered, "really weird."

The golden haired boy ran the biggest spoon, which he awkwardly found being displayed at the wall, in the ceramic pot to stir its contents.

A stupid red ant bit Misaki's left leg. She instantaneously slapped her leg, poor red ant.

And somehow, thankfully, the panicking-for-nothing witch appeared to recover her wits. Her small dear cottage was still standing 100% over the ground, like the way she left it in the morning. It was not burning, but the coals his prisoner used for something suspiciously wonderful.

Her accusatory pointing finger gradually curled and brought it up to scratch her ear. She cleared her throat, loudly.

"What? I've always wanted to say that," she countered flippantly, watching at the corner of her eyes how he took a sip of the broth, made a face and sprinkled some salt, "I really just wanted to say that. I got you, didn't I? You're not just making it obvious." Her proud upturn nose clearly said that she would never admit she was wrong. And if he didn't buy her excuse, well, she didn't care.

She strode near him and tiptoed as she stood behind him, peeking at the space under his armpit to marvel inwardly how the murmurs of the bubbling pot and its tempting aroma could bring such excitement. It was almost surreal.

She saw chunks of potatoes dancing in the pot.

"What is this called?" She meant the dish.

Takumi took a deep bowl and filled it with soup, shrugging, "I don't know."

"Hey, I think you forgot something," Misaki dazedly remarked, eyes still fixed at the potatoes.

"Onion chives?"

"The heck I cared about onions. You are supposed to be there sitting on the floor, hugged by those ropes!"

Takumi took his sweet time blinking back at the odd, bipolar girl who at the moment was biting her upper lips. He had seen her wearing different expressions in such a short period of time. Plus, she was always angry for reasons he bet were weird when he knew it was him who should be angry in the first place—for reasons he sure were valid. He slapped a hand half of his face.

"I don't recall I even volunteered to do that, and please close your mouth."

:::

She wasn't even planning it. It just came.

She was taken aback, eyes bursting wide like a pair of swimming jellyfish as she stared at the chocolate colored guy hovering above her. In which she glibly remarked, "Nice fur."

It started when they were eating their lunch, thanks to the prince.

Two of his fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose, his hips leaning against the wooden counter of what she affectionately called outdoor kitchen as he brought up the matters at hand, patiently and thoroughly to make her understand.

He has been wasting a lot of his energy finding a way out of the clearing but everytime he found a path he always ended up to the place he first began. He knew he had to go out, but what troubled him the most was the purpose of doing so.

"I don't remember the reason why I have to," he shook his head. There was hope written in his eyes as he sought hers, pleading for honesty, "Nor what I should do."

She didn't fire another sarcastic rude remark. He frowned because a small part of fingers trembled at the contact of their eyes but he shrugged it off. She was looking up at him through her thin lashes, pursing her lips in a line as if holding back some words she wasn't supposed to say. A small bead of her soup escaped from the bottom of her silver spoon, creating a little wave when it dropped over her plate.

She was actually looking at him, with nothing but a blank face.

Her reply never came.

The prince sucked in a bracing breath and gravely, ran a hand to his downward head. He probably thought she was an idiot. He looked like someone who was about to cry.

Interestingly, she didn't laugh.

"What was your name?" the deathly serious witch issued back, bearing a question with no relation to the things he wanted to know.

His forehead creased, the idea was sudden. His name? What was she thinking? He opened his mouth but the words hardly came, "I—"

Misaki slapped rudely the wooden table, few grain of salt and pepper did a somersault. A fleeting recognition flashed in her eyes with the expression she saw in him. She crossed her arms over her chest, reverting back to her normal self.

"You trespassed in a place you shouldn't have, slept in my room without giving me a notice and now you were demanding for an answer that I am not capable of giving? Ask one of the fairies, if you ever saw one. If." she narrowed her eyes and continued when she sensed the boy was about to contribute in the conversation "I knew magic, but not the ability of knowing someone's past by touching them, okay."

"For all I know, you might be a castle guard from some kingdom I don't know."

By this time, Takumi could be mistaken as a leader of an organized crime syndicate, wearing expressions of brief angst. "You're a witch? A real one?"

"Whadda you mean a real one? Of course, I am!" she was offended, obviously.

He blinked, looked at a certain place at the ground and then back at the huffing witch. He stood straighter, "Sorry but, how come you…" he seemed hard for better words, his hands alone can do the talking.

"The fish," he tried to say it slowly "why can't you magic the fish?"

Misaki, the rude witch, always has a scary face and with the unpleasant thing she just had heard added a thick layer of doom. She glared and took a nearby chopstick, hit it with unnecessary strength that upon hitting the table lengthen into a one meter polished mahogany staff.

Takumi, with great ease, deflected the witch's attempted blows. It surprised him: one, for the quick nature of pulling the mighty cerulean sword hanging in his belt and two, for the unexpected ridiculous strength the petite girl was giving.

"It wasn't meant to offend you," he quickly articulated, hoping the girl would stop shooting death glares at him "really."

"Oh, shut it!"

She was annoyed, not only because the handsome man's pointed out the truth but because she already saw herself losing and she would never let the man rub it in her face in the future, just in case he would. So she cheated, her little foot desperately kicking the man's shin.

The man stood still like a sturdy rock much to her chagrin, belatedly realizing he was taller than she thought. He was looking down at her with a face who was about to crack an amuse smile, probably thinking there-is-no-way-you-would-win-against-me with a principle most man has—never hurt a girl.

She rolled her eyes, unhappy.

"I will withdraw my sword," he said, kind eyes falling to her tight hand on her weapon "Just forget about this and let me find a way to—"

As soon as he said the words, an abrupt cold strong wind tugged at Takumi's hair and clothes. He never faltered nor lost his balance. He even opened one eye and grinned a mere inches off her face.

Misaki gasped.

And in her panic before her leg gave away, she blindly threw her free hand sailing.

Light hit his eyes and his body felt a sudden tremor. In the next second, as she flopped on the ground, a grown big bear was growling high above her head.

And the heavy metal landed vertically between her feet.

:::

Misaki sat over the chopped large camphor tree and propped her cheeks on her elbow. She got bored of laughing and of hurling fireballs at the animated bear at the distance. The bear has been running like forever, chasing the small animals—rabbits, gazelles, porcupines, swifts and elks—which dare to come his way.

The witch twitched her lips, saying things like she didn't know the man was a truly bully, frightening the weaklings.

But then again, probably his human-mind was off at the moment, completely taken over at the fact he was in four legs and marvelling at the sound of his new voice. Probably, yeah, since she don't have the power to communicate with animals. And don't have the urge to.

Misaki grumbled about dinner, she knew the sun was setting and couldn't see how gorgeously the sky was bloody red and orange. She turned to the gray furry rabbit next to her pot of dandelion and asked stupidly, "What is for dinner?"

The rabbit's ear turned up, twitching its small funny nose before hopping away, like saying it's-none-of-my-business thing. She could only roll her eyes at the treatment.

Misaki groaned again as she looked at the still running bear, not sure if she would admire his stamina or what, "Hasn't he tired yet?"

:::

The morning came.

She thought she forgot to close a window in her room, her feet felt cold and she needed a blanket. She tossed and turned blindly over her bed, not daring to open her eyes at the fresh wee morning.

Her room smelled of sun and hay and she wondered why as she gave up tugging the blanket near her foot.

A loud scream split her ears.

It sent her sitting, rapidly blinking the dust in her eyes and grabbing the fine chopped wood behind her fluffy pillow. She yanked it with so much force that it flew out of her grasp. She heard a loud thud.

"A-a….B-BEAR!" cried the little girl, who treated the witch's blue blanket like an armor, at the foot of her bed.

Misaki at once looked below her bed and found the unlucky bear's head (which was actually a man's) decorated with a wood projectile. She found it pretty familiar.

After what felt like an everlasting minute, she snapped. Eyes bewildered at the sight of her prisoner bear and the little chestnut girl, she growled, ignorant of the thick crust of drool on her chin.

"How did you two get into my bedroom?!"

:::

Thanks a lot for reading.

This chapter probably brought you to lot of questions, patience dears :)