So Similar Yet So Different

Chapter 2 ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡

Author's Note/2

This is a rewrite version of the original chapter. When I wrote the third chapter, I checked the canon and found out that the original version of this chapter did not really follow the timeline. Sorry for any inconvenience and thanks for reading! 

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Yoh was still in shock—or, as Matamune insisted, floating somewhere in deep, denial-fueled la-la land—when the train finally pulled into Aomori — the land of snow, crab, and apparently, his future wife. He slumped in his seat, numb, watching the world blur past the window in a meaningless smear of colours. Across from him, Matamune — ever the sardonic observer —flipped a page of his book absentmindedly. The Nekomata glanced up, golden eyes glinting with amusement. Back in his stray days, dodging alley cats and scavenging for scraps, he'd occasionally overhear the dramatic outbursts of young heirs being informed of their arranged marriages. Always good for a laugh. He just never expected to witness history repeating itself quite so literally.

Bang.

Matamune snapped his book shut as Yoh's head connected with the window. "I hate this," Yoh muttered, his voice muffled by the glass. "I really, really hate this." He slumped back against the seat, burying his face in his hands.

"Yoh-sama?" Matamune asked, his tone laced with a familiar blend of concern and mockery.

Yoh looked up, managing a strained smile. "It's fine, Matamune," he sighed. "Just...surprised. That's all."

"You don't want to get married?" Matamune arched a brow, returning to his book. "One would think, after all these years, you'd want to settle down, have a family."

Yoh shuddered, a dramatic flinch that wouldn't have been out of place on a soap opera. "That's exactly what I don't want!" he exclaimed. "If I settle down, I'll never have a moment's peace again! The screaming baby, the endless diapers, the constant nagging of my wife..." He shivered again. "Nightmare fuel."

"Ha!" Matamune chuckled, flipping a page. "Perhaps, Yoh-sama, perhaps."

Yoh's eye twitched. "It's not like you've ever had a wife," he retorted, crossing his arms and pouting like a disgruntled toddler.

Silence descended on the compartment, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the train. A few minutes later, Yoh had succumbed to sleep, his head lolling against the window. Matamune continued to read, the faint scent of old paper and ink filling the air. Even after a thousand years, his love for books hadn't diminished.

After a while, the Nekomata peered up at the sleeping boy, a soft smile gracing his lips. He leaned back, staring out at the passing scenery, his gaze lost in reminiscence. "Mt. Osore, huh?" he murmured. "It's been a while since I've been there."

***TIMESKIP***

A couple of hours later, they arrived in Aomori, and it was snowing. Of course it was. If Yoh had learned anything in his long, ridiculously complicated life, it was that the universe had a flair for the dramatic. Since Matamune was a spirit, the cold didn't bother him. What did surprise the spirit, though, was that Yoh wasn't shivering. The kid was practically radiating heat, despite wearing nothing but a T-shirt.

"Aren't you cold, Yoh-sama?" Matamune asked, unable to contain his curiosity after a few minutes of walking through the snow-covered streets. He could even see some passersby staring at Yoh like he was some kind of arctic anomaly.

"Hmm?" Yoh blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "Oh! Right." He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "One of the perks of being an Onmyōji - I can regulate my body temperature by manipulating water vapor around me. Picked it up in my first life." He said it as casually as someone might mention remembering to bring an umbrella.