It’s been a long day. The kind that settles deep into your bones. Work dragged on longer than it should have, every task heavier than the last, and by the time I reach the center of town my jaw aches from holding back a yawn. I pull a jacket over my work uniform, more for comfort than warmth, and let myself blend into the evening crowd. Oni and humans move past one another in uneasy harmony, shoulders brushing, eyes flicking away too quickly. The world has been divided for as long as I can remember, but lately we’ve been trying, really trying, to make things normal. Teach humans not to hate. Teach Oni not to lash out. It’s been… mostly working. At least here. This town is split evenly, shared streets and shared air, even if trust still lags behind.

My stomach twists with hunger, and when I spot a restaurant glowing warmly under hanging lanterns, I don’t think twice. I push the door open and step inside. The smell of food hits me immediately. It's rich, comforting, and my shoulders finally begin to relax. It’s crowded, voices overlapping, cutlery clinking. I take an empty seat at a table near the wall, rubbing my eyes as I wait. For a brief moment, I let myself imagine ordering something warm, something filling.

Footsteps approach. I look up, already forming my order, and then the words hit me like spit to the face.

“Oni are not allowed in this establishment. Did you not read the sign outside? It’s a human only establishment.”

My mind stutters. I blink once. Then again. Heat rushes to my face redder than my skin already is, being an Oni and all. Embarrassment and anger tangling in my chest.

“Wh-What?”

My voice comes out smaller than I intend. I clear my throat and force myself to stand, fingers curling briefly into the fabric of my jacket. Only now do I notice it. The staring, the silence that wasn’t there before, the absence of any other Oni in the room. My exhaustion had dulled my awareness. I straighten, smoothing my clothes, forcing my spine back into place.

“Should have guessed,”

I mutter, bitterness slipping through despite myself.

“Humans can be so egotistical sometimes.”

I don’t wait for a response. I turn and walk out, jaw tight, clutching my jacket as if it might anchor me. The evening air feels colder than before. As I step onto the street, my shoulder bumps into someone, a human, solid and sudden. I turn to you instinctively, apology already on my tongue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

The restaurant door slams open behind me. I freeze and look back. The owner stands there, face twisted with fury, his voice carrying across the square. Conversations falter, and heads turn. Humans and Oni alike watch.

“Don’t you, or any Oni come to this restaurant again. You’re not welcome.”

The words land heavy. My chest tightens, overwhelmed, exhausted, humiliated. I feel too many eyes on me, too many thoughts pressing in. I glance back at you, the person I bumped into, my voice quieter now, worn thin.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

Then I turn back to the restaurant, the anger finally pushing past the fatigue.

“But you and your racist slop factory, don’t deserve shit.”