Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first harvest of tea had been successful, albeit exhausting, but work hours were finally going back to normal. It helped to have another employee now, Nanami thought once she’d finished writing the day’s earnings in her ledger and glanced back at the girl she’d taken on as an apprentice. With a smile and an exchange of good night, she set the ledger aside and then left the teahouse, stepping out into the warm, spring air. She began the walk home.

The year before, Nanami had learned that the plants Tomoe had brought from the World Over Yonder matured and flourished faster than plants of the mundane world — and the crop it yielded was of a much higher quality, with a more intense flavor. It had been at the beginning of the year before — just prior to her twenty-fourth birthday — that they’d decided to open a teahouse. Once that decision had been made, Tomoe had taken it upon himself to do the manual labor of building the place while Nanami finished her apprenticeship and worked on spreading the word.

Perhaps the village wasn’t large, but it was lucrative enough to open a business here. And, while isolated, it was the largest village in the area, so they got enough business from neighboring mountains as well as people who lived on their own. There was enough trade for them to hit two revenue pools — one in their own town and the other selling tea to traveling merchants whenever they came by.

That had been what had cemented the decision for her to start this business — because Tomoe had been right. By the time a year had passed, their business had made enough money to live comfortably.

Now that their business had taken off, Nanami had decided to turn her attention to her next venture — and that was attempting to start a school. She’d made up her mind to tell Tomoe that night. Although she knew he wouldn’t agree the school would work out, she still had the teahouse, and she trusted the girl who apprenticed under her would take good care of it. Within a few weeks, her apprentice would be fully fledged. That would free up some of her time.

Opening the door to their house, she caught the whiff of whatever savory dish Tomoe was preparing that night. A smile twitched on her lips. Despite what he’d said before, he’d turned into quite the househusband. She slipped her shoes off and shut the door before stepping into the room.

“I’m home!” she called.

Tomoe glanced up from the soup he’d been stirring. He watched her cross the room and kneel beside him, and then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Welcome home, wife.” Another kiss. “Did you have a nice day?”

Grinning, Nanami put a hand at his cheek, caressing it, then pressed her lips to his again. Even though they’d been married for nearly a year and a half now, she’d never forget what she’d gone through. How close she’d been to losing hope… She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of him — or domesticity.

“Yeah, I think things are finally calming down.” She brushed her thumb over his cheek, looking into his dazzling amethyst eyes. “The new girl is working out. She’ll be able to run the shop in about two or three weeks. So then I’ll have a lot more time.”

“I am glad to hear that.” Tomoe kissed the corner of her mouth, eliciting a small giggle from her. Then, he leaned his forehead to hers, momentarily ignoring the soup. It would hold. “So you will have more time. For me, I hope?” He smirked, placing his hands just above her hips.

Giggling, Nanami wrapped her arms around his neck, then nudged his nose with her own. “I don’t give you enough attention now?” She shut her eyes, nuzzling against him.

“Of course not! I am insatiable when it comes to you.” His ears laid back against his head, but he nuzzled her in return. “If I had it my way, we would spend most of our days together lazing about.”

“Is that what you were hoping for?” Nanami grinned, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to talk, to divulge her plans before he got any ideas that would lead to disappointment, but he beat her to it.

Pulling back, Tomoe lifted his ears, a more serious expression passing over his face. He brushed a thumb over her lips, looking into her eyes. “Nanami, I would like to talk to you.”

Her smile faded a bit. “Okay…”

She looked so worried. Expression softening, Tomoe offered a small smile and then kissed her forehead. “Now don’t look at me like that. It is nothing bad.” Feeling her relax in his hold, he continued. “Since the teahouse is doing well and you will have more time soon, I thought we should talk about the future.”

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to talk about too.” She beamed at him.

“Good.” Tomoe kissed the tip of her nose, and then released her. “Let us talk over dinner.”

When she nodded, he checked the soup and, deeming it ready, paused to spoon generous helpings into their bowls, finishing with a side of rice. He waited until Nanami had thanked him and settled down. For now, he let her eat before he addressed the thought that’d been hovering at the forefront of his mind ever since mating season had begun. Yet mating season was almost over now. And while he and Nanami had been laying together several nights a week, it hadn’t satisfied that instinct as much as it had in the past. The intensity was like nothing he’d experienced before.

Naturally, once he’d fallen for Nanami, thoughts about her bearing his children had intruded on him every now and then — regardless of the setting or the season. Of course, he’d never given those whims any permanent residence in his head. Even during his last mating season, he’d brushed it aside, telling himself that they weren’t ready. After all, adjusting to life in the village had taken longer than they’d hoped, especially with Nanami’s dream of opening her own business.

But they could support themselves now. And they’d each grown and learned together, had combined their lives successfully. He felt safer than he ever had, there had been no sign of the gods, and they had a stable relationship. That trust they’d built had overflowed, and there was space in his heart for a family now.

For the first time in his life, he was settled enough to think — he wanted cubs.

And yet even with all the groundwork they’d done, she’d still been too busy with no signs of stopping. It had been agonizing to deal with heat when he loved this woman more than he ever had and desperately wanted her to have his children. Until now, there hadn’t been a good opportunity to talk about it, not while they were dealing with the first flush. But humans didn’t live very long at all, and if they were going to have children, they’d better do it soon.

After all, she was already twenty-five. Most women had their first child much younger. And that made him anxious.

He’d gotten far too lost in his thoughts, because by the time he snapped his attention back to Nanami, she was almost finished with dinner. “Would you like seconds?” he asked.

“No, thank you.” Nanami smiled between bites. “It was delicious, though. Thank you for fixing dinner!”

“My pleasure.”

It was only because of the pensive expression on Tomoe’s face that Nanami hadn’t interrupted him to talk about starting the school — or about her day at all. He seemed to have a lot on his mind, and she wondered if he had some plan for the future he wanted to tell her about. So, once she’d finished her food, she set her bowls aside and turned her full attention to him. 

“Did you wanna talk?” She tilted her head, smiling.

Nodding, Tomoe finished his last bite of food and set his bowl aside as well. He decided to cut straight to the point. Ears alert and tilted forward, eyes half lidded, he said, “The business is doing well and you are settled now. I think it is time to take the next step.” When she hummed and tilted her head, he said bluntly, “I would like cubs.”

It was a good thing she hadn’t been eating or drinking anything, because if she had, she would’ve spewed it out. As it was, she choked on her spit and coughed, quickly grabbing a cup of water and drinking from it. Once her coughing had subsided, she met his eyes. “Wh-what?”

Unfazed, he repeated, “I would like to have cubs.” Still, she stared at him as though he had two heads. His ears plastered to his skull. What about his statement didn’t she understand? “You and I are stable in our marriage, are we not? And we have a steady stream of income. We have learned how to live as normal people in this world.” The next part, he said without even thinking. “And you are getting older—”

An angry sound caught in her throat, stopping him in his tracks. The moment he saw her fierce, flashing eyes, he realized he’d said something wrong. By now, he’d learned not to even question it when she got that look on her face. Because he always found out shortly afterward.

“Older? Oh, my god, Tomoe, I just turned twenty-five.” If he hadn’t had a point — that most women in this world had children in their late teens — then she would’ve pitched a fit. But given the culture he’d grown up in, the reality of the world around them, she didn’t yell at him. “Where I come from, we don’t usually have kids until our late twenties. Or thirties.” Upon seeing his huge eyes, she stopped. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out, at least. “Are you worried about waiting?” His ears relaxed, but remained lowered, and he nodded. “Why?”

He didn’t want to say it out loud. If he did, then it would become real, and they’d have to talk about the fact that she was mortal. And that she would die. As far as he knew, he wouldn’t die — not unless someone fatally wounded him, like Ikusagami had nearly done. But the way she looked at him, so worried and unsettled, made him realize — she already knew. Yet she was afraid to speak it into existence too. They’d both known going into this that there was a huge gap between them. After all, he was already over one hundred years old.

The longer they looked at each other, the more Tomoe realized he’d have to be the one to say it. He released a long breath and willed himself to have the courage. “Humans do not live long. Now that we are living in the human world, you are susceptible.” He swallowed hard. “I do not know how long I have with you.”

All along, she’d known this was what he’d meant, but hearing him say it, seeing the broken-hearted look in his eyes, was humbling. It pierced her heart too, and she crawled closer to him. Taking his face in her hands, she met his gaze, lips parting. If they’d lived in the modern era, she would’ve been more certain that she’d live to an old age. But he was right — here, there weren’t any hospitals or doctors as she knew them. The best they could do was treat illness with herbs, with crude surgeries, with rest. And exorcisms, she thought grimly. Living in the human world, there was a chance the wars could come here and she’d be caught up in it before Tomoe could get to her — or she could succumb to disease. There were no guarantees anyway, but even less of them here.

Even so, she had no idea how to respond. She didn’t want to give in and say they could have children just because he was afraid he’d lose her at any moment. But she didn’t want to outright deny him either.

“Let’s talk about it,” she said softly. “It’s not so simple for me to say I’ll have kids with you right this moment.” Here, she laughed humorlessly. “Actually, I’d planned to talk to you about the future tonight. I was going to tell you what I wanted to do next.”

Just from that one comment, Tomoe had a feeling that he and Nanami weren’t on the same page. But having been married for a year and a half, he’d learned a thing or two about relationships — and about her in particular. It was best he heard her out just as she heard him out. “All right. Tell me.”

“Since the teahouse is almost running itself, I wanted to open that school.” She studied his eyes, watching his narrow pupils flicker in minimal movements as he stared into her gaze. “It’s been a few years since I graduated college so I don’t remember as much, but I know enough to teach kids. I know you said it wouldn’t take off, but I wanted to at least try.”

So she hadn’t given that up, he thought. Not that he was surprised. This was Nanami, after all. “You wanted to keep working?”

Blushing, Nanami nodded. “Yeah… That was what I thought, anyway.” She sucked in a breath, her eyes never leaving his. Then: “Is there a reason you want kids so badly? I mean, I want them too. I just didn’t think of having them this soon.”

“Like I said — I do not know how long I will have you.” Tomoe paused, but Nanami’s stare told him that wasn’t a good enough answer. It didn’t explain why he wanted cubs, anyway. Speaking it aloud made his stomach clench, but for her sake, he chose honesty. “I would like to mate with you because I would like a piece of you to remain with me...after you are gone.”

Her mouth opened, eyes huge. “Oh, my god,” she thought, a cold sensation washing over her, something tightening in her chest. Seeing how he’d left his only friend behind for her, though, she supposed he was afraid of loneliness. After all, he couldn’t go back to Akura — nor did he seem to have any desire to.

Although she was sure he knew this already, there was one more truth she needed to address while they were talking about this. If his reasons were solely because he feared losing her, then he needed to understand. “Tomoe… I know you don’t like thinking about it but… Childbirth is risky in this era.”

His ears pinned back. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, my god,” she thought again, wide-eyed. “He doesn’t know.” That made sense, given that he hadn’t seemed to be acquainted with humans when they’d come here — and he rarely interacted with anyone in town. At least, beyond the bare minimum. Most of his time, he stayed at the house.

Treading lightly, she said, “Women risk complications by getting pregnant. A lot of women die in childbirth. It’s...not easy.”

His mouth opened and then shut, and his heart beat faster. “Then why do women bear children? It does not make sense to have children if it will cause death.” How did humans even keep going? He exhaled, face flushing. “If that is a possibility, it would be best if we did not have cubs.”

Now he’d gone to the other extreme, she thought, biting back a groan. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, “Tomoe, I never said I’d die. I said it’s risky.” Here, he snapped a gaze back in her direction, mouth set in a tight line. “I still want kids.”

“Why? How is it worth the risk?” Forget his primal instincts; forget heat. Sacrificing Nanami wasn’t worth scratching that itch. It would go away soon on its own, he told himself. “I cannot risk losing you.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “Well, then, make up your mind. Either live with me until I die naturally and have no part of me left for sure, or take a chance and have a baby with me. Those are your options.” She scowled. “Either way, worst case scenario, you lose me and are left with nothing. At least having kids means you might have someone there for you when I’m gone.”

She was right, he thought, ears drooping again. Shutting his eyes, a pained expression on his face, he nuzzled her. “You said that women in your era waited until their late twenties or thirties. Why is that? Is it safer then?”

“No, not really.” She wrapped her arms completely around his neck, embracing him. Closing her eyes, she rested her chin on his shoulder. “It’s because a lot of us are working on our careers — and we’re willing to wait to find the right person. Arranged marriages aren’t common in my time. Most people find each other by chance and have a love marriage, like you and I did.”

“Ah…” He hummed. She’d explained to him a little about how her era worked — going to college and getting a job — but there were still gaps. “It takes that long?”

“Yeah, because a lot of people are in school until they’re twenty-one or older, and then you have to get established at your job. You don’t make a lot when you first start working,” she explained. “I lived in Kawagoe so it wasn’t as bad, but it’s really expensive in Tokyo. You have to make a decent salary to support a family.”

If that was the culture, then it made sense why she wanted to start a school next, he thought, resting his cheek against the side of her head, rubbing her back slowly. Especially if she might die. It seemed there were goals she wanted to achieve before then, and that was something he could understand. Conflicted, he sighed noisily and buried his mouth and nose in the side of her hair.

Deciding they needed to talk about this a little more, Nanami tentatively stepped into that territory again. “I know you might be having second thoughts now, but let’s assume we were going to do it.” She hugged him tighter. “What do you expect from me? Like...what roles are we going to play in our kids’ lives? And what do you want for your future? Because I think that’ll tell me more about what we should do.”

Tomoe wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. To think of not having her anymore hurt so badly he couldn’t breathe. But she had a point — the only way he’d have no piece of her left and be utterly alone was if he denied her children. It was guaranteed then. However, the thought of going through with having children was a frightening prospect.

Because of this, he struggled to focus on her questions, to give her a proper answer. In fact, he took so long that she had to murmur his name to prompt him. “I had planned to continue doing what we are doing. Helping you with the teahouse and the housework.”

Once he’d finished speaking, a small laugh caught in his throat. Several years ago, he would’ve never imagined that a powerful ayakashi like himself would be doing housework, would anticipate domestic duties for the foreseeable future. But it didn’t matter, and it didn’t bother him. Because right here, right now, he was happier than he’d ever been, and he enjoyed taking care of her. Seeing her smile and appreciate the meals he made, the clean house he kept, and the garden he tended was more than worth it.

He continued talking. “You have told me how important your career is to you. You expressed you wanted to keep working. If you are worried about that, I would be happy to take on the majority of the child rearing responsibilities.”

She pulled back to look at him. His expression remained calm, but she couldn’t help but think — this was unheard of in this day and age. Yet he always seemed to think about what she wanted, putting her first.

At the same time, though, to think of not being a mother to their children — to deny them the softness and warmth she’d gotten from her own mother — made her heart ache. “I’m not gonna make you do all the work,” she mumbled. “I want to be a good mom. I want to be there for them too.”

“I did not say you could not be.” His ears flicked back. “We may take turns. It is like I said before — that we could take shifts. Because I have my stake in your business as well.”

This made her relax. Thanks to the fact Tomoe had lived in the ayakashi world, he took this role surprisingly well. Being equal was easy for him, she thought, blinking. Then again, to yokai, their partner was everything. Still, she worried he might be doing it just to sate her. 

“Are you sure? You really don’t mind? Because I don’t want you to put your dreams on hold—”

“My dream is to be with you,” he interrupted, eyes softening. “I am happy. I will be happy no matter what our situation is, as long as I am with you.” He shut his eyes, nuzzling her cheek. “This is the one thing — other than being with you for the rest of our lives — that I will ask of you. I will not ask for anything else. I promise — I will not stand in your way. Start your school whenever you would like. I will handle the rest.”

“We should work together,” she insisted, but found herself relaxing in his hold, a small sigh leaving her as his lips brushed hers. “I think taking shifts is a good idea. I don’t want you to feel like you have to handle it for me.”

“Mm, I should have known you would say that.” He nudged her nose with his own. “You do know I did not mean it that way, right?”

Here, her muscles unwound. Poor Tomoe, she thought with a weak laugh, always having to assure her. “I know. I get it’s how yokai are, but I still worry about you sometimes.”

Instead of agreeing that she looked at it from a human viewpoint, he hovered over her lips, just a hair from them. “It is understandable, as long as you know I am happy with my choice. Now.” He touched his lips to hers briefly. When he spoke again, their lips brushed together with his words. “Will you at least consider having cubs with me?”

There was no harm in agreeing to think about it. So she nodded slightly. “Yeah, as long as you promise to think about it too. We need to be ready for this.”

“And have a plan for how we will raise our children,” Tomoe murmured. To this, Nanami hummed in agreement. Another kiss. “I suppose you are right. This is not something we can decide in one day. I will think about it.”

“Good.” Nanami massaged his shoulders and, this time, she was the one to touch her lips to his in a featherlight kiss.

As they parted, her thoughts shifted to the last several months — to his insatiable sexual appetite, to his increased comments about mating and cubs during their encounters. Until now, he hadn’t asked her to have his children seriously, and that made her wonder if he’d feel the same as soon as his mating season was over. If she thought back to her time at the brothel, to the various inu and kitsune and tanuki yokai who’d frequented during their heat, she knew how easy it was for them to say things they didn’t mean in the moment. It had been an outlet for them; nothing more, nothing less.

At least, that was what she’d deduced. She’d never talked much with her clients about it, and the other girls at the brothel hadn’t had much to say about it either. Most of them had had the spells applied to them since puberty, and so they’d never experienced a full fledged heat cycle anyway.

As for Tomoe? He hadn’t gone into detail either. There had been a mutual agreement that they weren’t ready for children yet, and that had been that.

Haltingly, she said, “Look, I know you’re in heat — or whatever it’s called for male foxes — so maybe we should wait until you’re thinking clearly before we talk about this again. I don’t want to make such a big decision just because of the season.”

A small growl left him and he nipped at her lower lip. “Now, I am not that much of a fool. I can think logically. It is something that has been on my mind for a while. We spoke of our desire to have children together when we were betrothed, did we not?”

“We did,” she agreed, gingerly tucking a few strands of hair back from his face. “I just want us to be sure about this.”

“Of course. I want us to be sure about this too,” he replied. “We are on the same page.”

She considered this for a long moment. “All right,” she said slowly. “Well, we’ll see. Okay? We don’t have to be in a rush. What I’m saying is — it doesn’t have to be during your mating season.”

This much was something he could agree to. “Very well.”

Running her fingers through his long hair, she kissed him for a long moment, humming in pleasure as he returned it just as deeply. Before he could get carried away, she pulled back. Unable to help herself, her hands drifted up to his ears, and she rubbed the base of them, relishing the soft fur. The resulting moan from him was worth it. Oh, yeah, she thought, heat had really gotten to him. His ears were more sensitive than usual.

“Just because we’re not having kids right now doesn’t mean I won’t let you blow off some steam,” she reminded him. “I know you need to mate.” She grinned, eyes sparkling with something devilish. “Besides, it’s fun for me too.”

She kissed him, and a shiver rippled down his spine, heart beating twice as fast as before. Much to his frustration, her hands left his ears and then she broke the kiss, standing. He lifted his head, opening his mouth to protest, but she shot him an impish smile and shook her head.

“Wait until tonight. I’ve got some things I have to do.”

With that, she picked up the bowls to wash them, leaving him to squirm and agonize. They needed some space. And she needed some time to think about what he’d asked of her.

Chapter Text

Over the duration of several days, Nanami mulled over what Tomoe had said to her. Although they’d both agreed to have children even before they’d married, she wasn’t sure if his desire came from the right place, not when it had to do with his fear of loss, not when he was in the midst of heat. But he didn’t so much as hint at sex the night after they'd discussed it, instead cuddling up to her in his sleep, so she felt she could rule the latter part out. Still, she needed to think about what this meant for her ambitions and for what she wanted. 

Needless to say, she found it difficult to sleep. And after several days of this, exhaustion hit her hard.

She really missed coffee, she thought halfway through her day at the teahouse, stifling a yawn. The tea helped, but it didn’t give her the same kick that coffee had. Or any of the concoctions at the brothel, she begrudgingly admitted.

A scuffling sound at the door pulled her attention, and she straightened up into a more acceptable posture, pasting on the facade of pleasing the customer. Right before she greeted their guest, she saw a small shadow cast across the threshold and paused. It was Akihito, she thought in alarm, finding herself looking at one of the villager’s sons. His eyes were large, his small face solemn, and she wondered what he was doing here by himself. Something was wrong.

“Can you take over?” she asked her apprentice, Hana. She barely waited for a response before she hurried to the front and knelt by the child, staring into his big, brown eyes. “Akihito, what’s wrong?”

His chin quivered. “My mom fell down.”

Her heart leapt in her throat. “What happened? How did she fall down?”

“She just fell,” Akihito responded, eyes glassy.

“Is she talking?” Nanami prodded.

“No, she’s asleep,” he replied.

That wasn’t good, Nanami thought, alarmed. “Where is she?” Here, he pointed down the street, in the direction of the market. So Nanami got to her feet and reached out to take his hand. “Can you take me to her?”

He nodded, then tugged at Nanami’s hand and drew her down the street. It was a struggle not to run, because his small legs couldn’t keep up, even with her kimono limiting how quickly she could move. 

It became apparent why he’d come into the teahouse for help, because the crumpled form of a woman lying on the side of the beaten dirt path came into view only steps away, her baskets beside her, the tops askew and rice spilled out into the scraggly grass. At that point, Nanami did tear away from Akihito’s hold and rush to her side, dropping to her knees in the grass and laying a hand on her back.

“Yamazaki-san!” she said, shaking her lightly.

The sound of labored breathing and a small groan assured her the woman was still alive. That gave her some peace of mind, but it didn’t mean this wasn’t an emergency. Seeing how pale she was, her skin glistening with sweat, Nanami laid her hand on the other woman’s forehead. She was burning up, Nanami thought.

“Can you talk?” she asked, moving the baskets away from Yamazaki.

“Yes,” Yamazaki murmured, although her eyes remained shut.

Thank goodness, Nanami thought. She took her hand. “You have a fever. Are you sick?” When Yamazaki hummed an affirmation, she added, “How long have you been sick?”

“Since last night,” she mumbled. “I had to run an errand… My husband is away.”

“Got it.” Nanami took a deep breath.

Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Akihito crouch beside them, placing his hand at the middle of his mother’s back. He tugged at her kimono. “Mama, you got to get up. You’ll get all dirty.” He brushed his hands over her kimono, as though wiping dust off of it.

“Can you get up?” Nanami asked, gazing at Yamazaki helplessly.

She watched Yamazaki tense, putting her weight on her forearms, clawing into the grass. With a grunt, she attempted to push herself up, but ended up relaxing against the ground again. “No.”

“Mama, you can’t sleep if the sun’s up,” Akihito continued, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Akihito,” Yamazaki murmured, tone faint. She swallowed hard.

“Your mom’s really tired,” Nanami said, looking at Akihito. “She doesn’t feel good. You know when you get sick and your mom says you have to stay in bed?” A pause, and Akihito nodded. “That’s how she feels. She has to go to bed too.”

“Oh…” Akihito frowned down at his mother. “We have to get you up.” He tugged at her arm. “You have to go to bed.”

That was going to be difficult, Nanami thought, staring down at Yamazaki. Akihito was her only child, and with her husband out of town, she wasn’t sure who could watch over her. Perhaps the best thing was to leave her with the herbalist.

“Okay.” Nanami stood, then put a hand on Akihito’s head. “We’re going to get the herbalist, and she’ll help you to bed, Yamazaki-san. I’ll watch Akihito until you feel better or your husband comes back.”

“What?” Yamazaki turned her head, her unfocused gaze staring through Nanami.

“Is that okay? Hana can watch the teahouse, and Tomoe’s at home. He can help out,” Nanami insisted.

“You don’t have children—” Yamazaki began.

“No, but I was trained to look after them,” Nanami replied. It was too difficult to explain a degree in childhood education here, she thought with a grimace. “I’m good with kids. Promise.”

A small groan left Yamazaki, and she shivered, squeezing her eyes shut. “All right,” she agreed. “But please… Bring him back to my house tonight.”

“Yeah, Tomoe and I will check on you,” Nanami agreed. “And if we have to stay with you while you get better, we will.”

It was only after she finished speaking that she wondered if Tomoe would be okay with this. But there wasn’t much choice, she thought, a lump in her throat. This was a neighbor of theirs, and everyone in the village needed to rely on each other to survive. Surely, Tomoe would understand that.

“Thank you,” Yamazaki said, tone faint.

“Of course. Just leave it to me.” Here, Nanami turned to Akihito and took his hand. Offering a smile, she said, “Come on. Let’s get someone who can help your mom. Then you can come and play with me while she sleeps, all right?”

He peered up at her. “Is mama going to be okay?”

“Yeah, your mom will be fine. She just needs some quiet time.” Nanami gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, curling his fingers around hers.

“All right. We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Nanami said. “And I’ll make sure you have everything you need before we go home.”

There was a small noise of agreement, and then Nanami walked away, holding onto Akihito’s hand. Poor Yamazaki, she thought, keeping her expression neutral even though inside she fretted. Seeing her laid out on the ground like that had her flashing back to her own experiences, to the sight of her own mother collapsed on the floor. In this day and age, medicine wasn’t nearly so advanced, so even a cold or the flu could devolve into something much worse. Hopefully, she’d recover soon, she thought. She could only imagine how Akihito would feel later if the worst came to pass.

—

After fetching the herbalist and ensuring Yamazaki was settled, that she was in good hands, Nanami took Akihito back to her and Tomoe’s house. The walk ended up being a little long for him, so she scooped him up and carried him at the end, struggling under his weight. It was only when she came upon the clearing at their house that she remembered — Tomoe presented as a yokai here. She stiffened.

“Tomoe?” she called out, shifting Akihito’s weight in her arms. “I’m home! And…I have a visitor.” She hoped he’d understand what she meant.

Tomoe had been across their property a ways, tending to their plants, when Nanami called his name. At her mention of having a visitor, he sighed softly. So she’d brought another human, he thought glumly. He found an enchanted leaf in his sleeve and placed it on his head, transforming his appearance in a puff of smoke. Then, with his ears and tail freshly hidden, he headed towards the house.

She called his name again, anxiety and impatience thin and high in her tone. He frowned and stepped onto the back veranda, throwing open the door. The moment he stepped inside, he found her with a child on her hip — a boy who couldn’t have been more than three or four. An exasperated huff left him.

“I do wish you would have told me earlier—” he began.

“I know,” she interrupted. “Sorry, but it was kind of an emergency.” Here, she set the boy down, grunting a bit from the strain. She needed to gain some extra muscle, she thought dismally. “This is Akihito. His mother is sick. She needed me to watch him for a while.”

Inwardly, Tomoe wondered why it was up to them of all the people in the village, but he didn’t voice this. Instead, he replied, “Ah, I see. And how long will Akihito be staying with us?”

“I’m not sure. Yamazaki was pretty sick,” she admitted. She glanced down at Akihito, taking in his huge, round eyes, which were glued to Tomoe. His tiny fist clutched the edge of her kimono, his chin tilted up. He didn’t move. “Akihito? Can you say hi to Tomoe?”

Akihito buried his face in Nanami’s leg, a half whimper, half whine leaving him. Her heart sank. She supposed not.  

Touching delicate fingers to the top of his head, she said softly, “Hey, it’s okay. He’s really nice, promise.” A brief pause, during which she and Tomoe exchanged a glance. Since Akihito continued to hide, she petted his hair. “Well, it’s okay. You don’t have to say hi now if you don’t want to. Do you want some tea?” A little nod. “Okay.” She turned to Tomoe. “Do we still have some barley tea?”

“Yes.” Tomoe searched among the clay bottles they had until he found the correct one. Then, before Nanami could move, he snagged a pot and poured water in it. He knelt by the sunken hearth, taking a moment to start a fire. The hard way, he thought with a stifled sigh. Once that was done, he hung the pot over the fire.

“Oh, thank you,” Nanami said, offering a wan smile. She’d been nervous there for a second, she thought with a blush. But Tomoe knew better than to use foxfire. “See, Akihito? Tomoe’s making tea for you! He’s a nice guy, huh?”

Akihito peeked one eye open, but continued to cling to her leg. He made a small, disagreeable sound. “His eyes are funny—” he began.

Nanami quickly intervened. “Ah, no, they’re not funny. Just different!” She laughed, sneaking a glance at Tomoe. “Not many people have purple eyes, right? But it’s just an eye color.”

“He looks like a…” Akihito scrunched his face up in thought. “Like a ghost.” He tugged at Nanami’s kimono.

Tomoe stopped what he was doing, his hands frozen over the teapot he’d been preparing. A ghost? For whatever reason, Akihito had decided there was something about him that was scary, or at least worth ridicule, but he didn’t get why. His disguise as a human was flawless. There was no way a mere child would be able to see through it.

For a moment, Nanami stood there, staring at Tomoe, taking note of his downturned mouth. A giggle erupted, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. No, this wasn’t funny, she chided herself. She needed to set a good example. Not to mention, calling him a ghost could be dangerous if it got out. Even though Akihito was a child, people tended to be superstitious in these times.

She cleared her throat. “He’s not a ghost, don’t worry. Do you know how I know that?” When he asked how, she crouched before him and then patted his cheek playfully, smiling. “Because if he was a ghost, you could see right through him. And if he was a ghost, the teapot would spill all over the floor!” This drew a giggle from him, and she exhaled, weak inside. Good, he was relaxing, she thought. “Let’s sit down now. There are no ghosts here, promise.”

As she sat him down, she caught Tomoe’s eye again. She’d thought he might’ve been worried — or offended — but he only looked at her with something like admiration shining in his eyes. That was different, she thought, sitting next to Akihito.

“What?” she asked.

Tomoe shook himself of his reverie. The moment they’d entered the house, Akihito had been petrified of him. Now he was sitting within reach, giggling, completely relaxed. That did it for him.

“You are quite good with children,” Tomoe said with a half smile. What he didn’t say was that she’d be a fantastic mother, since he didn’t want to pressure her, but her cheeks colored all the same. It seemed she’d figured it out on her own.

“Oh, thank you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips twitching with a smile. “You know…it’s coming back to me. The whole childhood education thing.”

“Mhm. Yes, well, I think you have a natural gift for it,” Tomoe replied, shutting one eye and smiling at her.

Since she seemed flustered, he stopped teasing her and focused on the tea. In the background Nanami had started a game with Akihito to keep him occupied, the two of them going back and forth describing objects they saw in the room and trying to guess what the other was talking about. It was a good thing she kept him talking and giggling, because it took time for the water to boil and, then, another ten minutes to steep the barley and make tea. If she hadn’t kept him distracted, Tomoe was sure he would’ve caused mischief.

Once the tea was ready, he tested the temperature, ensuring it wasn’t too hot. It was a bit too warm, he thought with a slight frown. His time with Nanami had shown that humans could burn their mouths, and he imagined it was worse for a child. Discreetly, he wrapped his hands around the cup and used his powers to cool it just enough. This was about the temperature Nanami could handle, he thought. He started to place it in Akihito’s hands.

“Wait! We have to make sure it’s cool enough,” Nanami said, her hand fluttering to his.

“I have already accounted for that when I prepared the water,” he said, keeping his eyes on hers. “If you don’t believe me, then feel for yourself.”

Carefully, she touched her fingertips to the cup. It didn’t feel hot, she thought, eyes widening. Then, realizing what he’d done, she laughed, albeit feebly. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry, I should’ve known better. You’re always so considerate.” She shot him an apologetic glance.

He said nothing to her, instead humming. It sparked a small flare of irritation inside of him, because she should’ve trusted him by now, but he didn’t care to highlight it. Instead, he focused on Akihito. “Can you hold it?” he asked. Akihito hesitated, so Tomoe held the cup in one hand, gently taking one of the boy’s hands and placing it at the side of the cup. He pressed just enough for him to hold it. “Like this.”

Nanami squirmed, swallowing back the words that wanted to burst from her lips. It was important for Tomoe to have this experience, she chided herself. And what she saw inspired her and had her heart fluttering all at once. Even with this stranger, this human child, Tomoe exhibited such gentleness — the kind he never would’ve been able to show when she’d first met him. His eyes locked on Akihito with a quiet concern, and then his hand automatically grazed the top of the boy’s head, and he murmured a question to gauge his comfort. She melted inside, her gaze soft and affectionate.

It made her think that maybe, just maybe, he was ready for this sort of commitment.

His voice burst her from her reverie. “Nanami, we must talk about what to do if we are to keep him overnight.”

Nanami blinked, turning her attention to him. “Oh, right…” She glanced around the room. “Do you think our bed is big enough? Since we don’t have another.”

The moment she’d finished speaking, she realized — they hadn’t anticipated even these small things when it came to accommodating anyone else. While they hadn’t planned on having guests, if they were considering children, they should at least account for another person sharing the space with them. They were less prepared than she’d thought.

Tomoe glanced at where their futon had been folded over and pushed to the wall. “Hm, I would not say it would be comfortable.” Here, he stood.

Nanami’s eyes followed him. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Well, we must procure more bedding. I will go into town and find something.” Here, he bit back his sigh.

She scrambled to her feet. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I’ll go into town and do it myself. I know you hate it.” At his arched eyebrow, she waved her hands. “It’s fine! Besides, I should check on Yamazaki, right?”

“Hm, you don’t mind me staying with the child?” He tilted his head, a slight, wry smile tugging up the corner of his mouth.

Pausing, Nanami glanced at Akihito, who was drinking his tea, calm. “I never thought you’d do anything,” she said. “I was just worried about how Akihito felt. But…he seems okay now.” She smiled, her eyes half lidding, dreamy, and she placed a hand on Tomoe’s chest. “I trust you, Tomoe. I know you’ll take good care of him. Just like you’ve always taken care of me.”

Briefly, his eyes widened. But then he returned her smile, his hand fluttering to hers, caressing it. “Thank you. I promise he will be safe with me.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Nanami promised. “But I might be out for a while, so don’t get worried if I don’t come back right away, all right?”

A sigh left him. “All right. But if you don’t return by the time you usually do, then I will bring the boy and look for you.” He paused, then lifted her hand and kissed it. “Be careful.”

To this, she blushed and nodded. She murmured a word of parting, and then headed for the door. Hopefully, Yamazaki would be back on her feet soon.

—

Just as Nanami had predicted, she ended up gone longer than she’d thought since she swung by the teahouse to check on Hana in between her errands. As for Akihito, she’d decided to ask Yamazaki if she could go by her house and get her anything — including Akihito’s futon. That resulted in her running some errands for the other woman, and then helping her back home near the end of the day. 

Since she still seemed ill, Nanami promised her that she and Tomoe would take care of Akihito overnight and return the next morning, unless she wanted them to all stay with her. She must’ve needed the quiet, because she chose the latter option, so Nanami packed up the futon and headed back to her own house. Needless to say, by the time she arrived, she was exhausted, her body aching from hauling items back and forth. 

It was good to be home, she thought as she trudged up to the front veranda. With some effort, she got the door open, and then stepped inside, the scent of herbs and spices welcoming her. There, she found Tomoe before the sunken hearth, overseeing a pot, Akihito sat nearby and spinning a brightly colored top. She glanced at Tomoe, a bit confused.

“Did you guys go out?” she asked, and he flicked his gaze up to her.

The moment she caught his attention and he saw her lugging a futon of all things, he put down the spoon he’d been using to stir, and he stood, reaching for it. “No,” he said, lifting it effortlessly. He crossed the room and put it down next to their own futon, and then resumed his spot.

Drained, she murmured a thank you and then took a seat by Akihito, noticing the transfixed look of wonder on his face. His eyes remained glued to the top as he spun it again and again, sometimes clumsily, and sometimes getting it just right. “Where’d he get the toy then?” she asked.

“Oh, that.” Tomoe peered into the pot, watching it bubble. “I made it.”

Her eyes bulged. “You made it?” she burst out. 

He only hummed in response, so she glanced back at Akihito. The boy had probably never had anything as nice as this in his whole life, she thought. He probably hadn’t ever played with one either. That meant that Tomoe had to have spent time teaching him how to use it. And that made her grin, biting down on her lower lip.

“You’re amazing,” she said after a second. A giggle left her at his blush. “What did you guys do all day?”

“Well.” Tomoe reached for the bowls he’d stacked beside the hearth, beginning to fill each one. “After Akihito finished his tea, we went out into the yard. I showed him how to pick vegetables and herbs. He wanted to pick flowers for his mother, but I told him we should wait until tomorrow so they will be fresh.”

She balked. “Did he…take that okay?”

“Hm, I suppose. I told him I would show him the best spots if he would wait.” He cooled the bowl he held, then placed it in front of Akihito, along with a spoon. “I believe what made the difference was that I…” He hesitated, his face flushing at the memory. “I let him ride on my back for a walk.”

“You gave him a piggyback ride?” Nanami laughed. She was sure if Tomoe’s ears had been showing, they’d be lowered sideways. “Aw, that’s so sweet! It sounds like you played with him for a while.”

“Yes, and showed him how to do housework. Well, some of it.” He grimaced, thinking about when they’d wiped the floors. Akihito had offered to help, but he’d mostly moved dirt around or played with the rag. Still, it had kept him occupied. “I believe this has prepared me. At least, somewhat.”

Unable to help it, Nanami giggled, her eyes sparkling as she accepted the bowl Tomoe handed her. “I’m really glad to hear you two got along so well. Thank you, Tomoe. You’ve helped out so much.”

Still blushing, he nodded. He drew up a serving for himself, and then settled down to eat. A part of him had expected to be irritated by a human child’s involvement, but he’d found the boy growing on him, in some odd way. Perhaps it was his curiosity or his everlasting wonder at everything around him, but he harbored a feeling that Tomoe had never had when he was so young. There was a sense of trust, of safety, of joy in every little thing. That was something that yokai weren’t as prone to, not when instinct kicked in. It made him a little sorry that he’d never gotten a taste of what it was like to be so happy and carefree.

“Tomoe?”

Nanami’s voice had him looking up from his bowl, blinking. “Yes?”

“Do you think—?” She stopped just as Akihito dribbled broth down the front of his clothing. Setting her bowl aside, she grabbed a cloth and dabbed at his clothing. When he began to whine, she insisted, “It’s okay! We can clean it good as new after we eat, all right?”

“Yes, I will clean it,” Tomoe agreed with a small sigh. As soon as Akihito had settled down and Nanami had placed the cloth to the side, he prompted, “What were you saying?”

Nanami paused, spoon hovering over her bowl. “I was saying… Do you think it’d be like this having our own kids?”

Tomoe didn’t know whether she meant because they’d be yokai or not, but regardless, he nodded. “I imagine so.” He put a spoonful in his mouth.

“I mean, this is how it’d be? You staying home?” She glanced from the floor to his face.

“Yes. That is how I imagined it,” he agreed. “I would continue my work at home and tend to the children.”

He’d proven that today, hadn’t he? Nanami chewed at her lower lip, eyes dropping to the surface of her soup. While he could’ve thrown a fit, he’d been so good with Akihito, had accepted the additional responsibilities, had looked after him so carefully and with his well-being in mind. Hell, he’d even taught him, she thought with a smile twisting the corners of her mouth. Nothing about him was like her own father. Right?

But she didn’t voice this. Instead, she told him, “I think you’re really wonderful.”

“Hm? Where did that come from?” he asked, and then smirked. “Not that I will complain if you wish to compliment me.”

She grinned. “I’m just saying — I think you’re wonderful. There’s no one like you.”

A chuckle left him. “And there is no one like you either. Now.” His expression grew more serious. “We must finish the meal. The little one has had a full day and I believe he is growing tired.”

One glance at Akihito’s blinking eyes, and Nanami had to agree. “Oh, yeah, I’ll hurry up and then we can get the bath ready.” If they were going to do this the old-fashioned way, then it’d take time to warm the water, she thought, shoveling food in her mouth. She was vaguely aware of Tomoe telling her to come up for breath. Between bites, she said, “I’ll help him take a bath if you’ll wash his clothes?”

“Of course. We may bundle him in an extra blanket to keep him warm until I have dried his clothes.” Tomoe resumed eating his food, albeit much slower than Nanami.

To this, Nanami nodded. It was strange to care for a child, she thought, glancing from Tomoe to Akihito. And while they’d always been partners, there was another layer of responsibility here that she hadn’t thought they’d be ready for. But she couldn’t deny that Tomoe was a gentle and kind man, and if he cared so much about a random child’s well-being, then maybe it would be okay to consider having their own children.

Besides, it was kind of nice to have another person around. It made their house that much warmer. Perhaps she adored Tomoe to the moon and back, but there were times she did feel lonely, like the house was much too big for just the two of them. And seeing him as a father figure… It left an odd sense of hollowness inside. Something yearning, and yet also nostalgic for a time that had never existed.

She wouldn’t tell him yet, she decided. This was too big to jump headfirst into like she usually did. Instead, she’d consider it for a little longer. Only then would she know her true feelings — and know whether or not this was a fleeting whimsy or wistfulness. For now, she just relaxed and let herself enjoy this feeling amongst the three of them. There was plenty of time to map out her future. 

Chapter Text

The day after Akihito stayed with Nanami and Tomoe, Yamazaki improved enough to take her son back. They’d both walked him to his house, where Yamazaki thanked them profusely and assured them she was back on her feet. Even so, much to Tomoe’s chagrin, Nanami had insisted she’d check on her after she was done with work and offered to be there anytime she needed help. That was just the way she was, he’d thought with a sigh. To him, it was clear the woman wasn’t keen on forming more than a neighborly relationship, but Nanami seemed to think they’d built camaraderie. He didn’t have it in him to say otherwise.

After that, they fell back into a semi-normal routine. Having Akihito stay with them had raised the issue of children to the forefront of their minds, and yet Nanami had still taken a week to think about his proposal. 

By that time, Tomoe felt like he was about to die. Although they’d been married the year before during mating season, it hadn’t hit him this hard. Seeing her nurture a child had heightened his desire, had strengthened his bond to her, and he felt more drawn to her than before. Not to mention, it felt like she’d never give him an answer, and merely climbing on top of her did little to alleviate a much, much deeper ache. An ache that was so primal in nature he couldn’t control it.

Still, he didn’t push the issue. This was Nanami’s call, and what she decided would be the end of it. While the thought of losing her made his stomach plummet and his heart jump to his mouth, that damn instinct couldn’t be ignored. Neither could the fear of losing every part of her forever.

Several times during the week, they revisited the topic — mostly to talk about the logistics of it, what it would look like for them to share the responsibilities, how they’d raise the child. A short argument ensued over some of the boundaries and what discipline might look like, but eventually they’d smoothed those over. It seemed to be going in that direction, but Tomoe wouldn’t make assumptions.

It was early in the next week that Nanami finally approached him. He was sitting out on the veranda, sake cup in hand, enjoying the mild evening and watching the moon. The floorboards behind him creaked, and he involuntarily turned his ear towards the sound. He watched from his peripheral vision as she sat next to him, facing forwards as well. Within a few seconds, she sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder, leaning against his side.

“Can we talk?”

When he hummed his assent, Nanami’s heart began to race. She threaded her arms through one of his, hugging it tightly. Although she still felt it was a little soon, she had to admit — he’d supported her and her dreams for so long now. He’d changed everything about his life in order to accommodate her, all while claiming the only thing he needed to be happy was her. He’d listened to what she’d needed, he’d adjusted, and he’d been open-minded. Perhaps it was time to compromise from her end as well.

“I, um, thought about it. Y’know...having kids.” She nibbled her lower lip and hugged his arm tighter.

His ears pricked up and he turned his head to look down at her. The way she clung to his arm combined with her scent told him she was nervous, but he couldn’t tell what caused it. “Yes?” He took a sip of sake. “And?”

“And I’ve decided.” She knew she was stalling, but once she spoke the words, it felt like there was no going back. Deep inside, she knew he wouldn’t push her if she retracted her decision, but it was the principle of the matter. He valued one keeping their word.

Mouth going dry, Tomoe watched the top of her head. “What did you decide?”

There was no use stalling any longer. Nanami squeezed her eyes shut, drawing a deep breath. She must’ve taken a beat too long to respond, because she heard the quiet click of him setting the sake cup on the veranda, and then a gentle hand fell to her head. Slowly, he stroked her hair, the act affectionate, soothing.

“We do not have to,” Tomoe said softly. “Don’t fret, Nanami. I would never make you do anything. Heat will end.” That was the truth, but he knew this went beyond heat. They both knew that, but it wasn’t worth her doing something she didn't want to do just for his sake. Lifting a strand of her hair, he kissed it. “I love you. If you don’t want this, we will not do it.”

He was so kind, Nanami thought, a whimper catching in her throat. She relaxed, nuzzling against his shoulder. That was what made her believe she was making the right choice. She could trust him; he’d care for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then lifted her head, looking up into his eyes, smiling softly.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence filled with the gentle whisper of the wind, the rustling of tree leaves. A few stray petals from the cherry blossoms fluttered down, landing on the veranda. A smile flickered over his mouth, and he reached up, plucking one from her hair. She giggled, taking it as he held it out to her. He planned to drop the matter now, but then she spoke again.

“I decided...yes.”

“What?” His ears perked up and he turned to look at her, eyes wide.

Her face grew warm. “I decided we can try for a baby.”

His mouth opened. That had been unexpected. He would’ve asked her if she was really sure, but the steady way she looked into his eyes told him she’d made up her mind. Not to mention she was stubborn, he thought with a small smile. Once she made up her mind, it took an act of the gods to change it.

Leaning over, he pressed his lips to her forehead and shut his eyes. “If this is what you want too, then I would love to try.”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, leaving her dizzy. Oh, gods, she was going to do it. But the slow, gentle way he kissed her and the tender way he wrapped strands of hair around his long fingers reminded her of how sweet he was. He’d make a good father, she thought. Unlike her own.

Faltering, she asked, “When do you want to start trying?”

Since it seemed she was still nervous — and perhaps she’d just made the decision today — he decided to give her a bit more space. “Perhaps tomorrow night, provided I can find a way to break the spell on you.”

She sucked in a breath. Tomorrow. She almost asked him how did he expect her to sleep now, but then his lips pressed to the sensitive spot at the junction of her jaw and ear, and her eyes fluttered shut, hands falling to his arms. No, she thought, he was right. Since she was still nervous, she should sleep on it.

“Okay,” she murmured, shivering as he bit down on her throat, just below her jaw. She tightened the fabric of his haori in her fists, whimpering as he sucked gently. He was marking her as his mate.

After leaving a decent sized hickey, Tomoe pulled back, meeting her gaze. He smiled and brushed her bangs from her forehead, fingertips trailing over her heated skin. “If you change your mind, tell me.”

At this, she nodded, mouth dry. Instead of saying anything more, Tomoe leaned in, capturing her lips. Sighing through her nose, she shut her eyes and melted into his touch. For now, she wouldn’t dwell on it.

—

Her mind was a thousand miles away all of the following day. She was in such a daze she even made small mistakes at work — ones that Hana had to point out. It was embarrassing to be so off her game, but at least it proved one thing — and that was that her apprentice was well equipped, that the shop would be okay while she recovered from childbirth. Provided she lived, she thought, heart in her mouth.

Despite that intrusive thought, her decision remained solid. She had wanted children at some point, and this was something Tomoe wanted too. Even now, she felt like she hadn’t done much of anything for him except give him companionship. Maybe she earned the majority of the money they had, but he undoubtedly pulled most of the weight in terms of household duties, in maintaining the garden and the tea plants, in performing the manual labor she needed to run her business. The least she could do was to have a child. Tomoe had never asked her for anything, and yet this was something he desperately wanted, something she could contribute to their life together.

That evening, after a light dinner and a bath, she decided — it was time. As they prepared to go to bed, she knelt on the futon, watching him in the flickering lamplight. He glanced over at her, and mutual understanding passed between them.

“I, um, feel the same way I did yesterday,” she murmured, then glanced at her hands folded in her lap. “About having a baby.”

He paused lifting the covers, watching her chew her lip. This time, she actually brought her eyes to his and stared into them. He sat up straighter. “Would you like to try?”

Sucking in a breath, she nodded. “Yeah.” She offered a wan smile, clenching her hands. Gods, her palms were so clammy. “Did you find a way to break the spell?”

“I believe so. It seems fairly simple.” Tomoe cupped her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over her lips. “I will ask you one more time before I break the spell — do you really want this?” Before he could ask his second question, she was already nodding. He asked it anyway. “Do you want this now?” Another nod. “All right. There is no going back after this. Do you understand?” One more nod. “Very well. Relax, and do not be alarmed. I would never hurt you.”

“What is he going to do?” Nanami wondered, momentarily stiffening. But then his lips touched her cheek and he brushed his thumbs over the paper thin skin just below her eyes, and her heart slowed. Tomoe was kind; he’d never hurt her. Shutting her eyes, she put her hands at his wrists, gingerly stroking his skin.

He pressed his forehead to hers and shut his eyes, focusing on her energy. He hated to do this to her, but it must be done. Momentarily, he let his spirit slip inside of her, merging with her essence. Once he’d possessed her, it was easy to find the seal that suppressed her ability to get pregnant, and he concentrated on it. With a small surge of energy, he easily broke it. Her body jolted, a small gasp hitching in her chest, but then she relaxed again. He retreated and gave her a moment to gather her bearings, kissing her all over her face in the meantime.

“Did you do it?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. Her head throbbed, but that foggy sensation was already fading away in the background. She didn’t know what he’d done, but she felt lighter. Different.

“Yes.” He pressed his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes. “Did it hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. A little dizzy, but fine.” Smiling, she touched light fingertips to the insides of his wrists.

“It will be all right. The dizziness should pass in a moment.” He pressed her face into his shoulder, keeping one hand at the back of her head, his other arm wrapping around her waist. Nuzzling against her, he rubbed her back and breathed in her sweet scent.

She nodded and nestled in the crook of his neck, absorbing his warmth. The way he held her was so comforting, so secure, and she melted entirely. For several minutes, they were quiet, but he continued to rub her back up and down, to occasionally kiss the top of her head. Perhaps she’d been lulled into a false sense of security, because her body was nearly slack by the time he broke the silence.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah,” she said faintly, eyes shut. She nuzzled against him.

A pause. Even though he didn’t want to push it, he figured it was now or never. “Would you like to mate?”

A shock of surprise passed through her, and she lifted her head, eyes wide. He offered her a smile, delicate fingertips lighting on her cheek. And that smile of his — that softness and affection in his eyes — relaxed her just enough. She offered a shaky smile of her own, and then nodded, even though her heart pounded and her hands trembled and she felt herself breaking into a sweat. Gods, she was so nervous.

His hands lighted on the sash of her yukata, and she quivered, heart in her mouth. Gently, he untied it, loosening her yukata and letting it slip from her shoulders, baring them. Swallowing hard, she returned the gesture, clumsily undoing the sash at his yukata as well. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t had so much trouble undressing someone in years. Just as she got it undone and was opening his yukata, exposing him, he nudged his nose against her temple.

“Are you all right?”

“Huh?” She shook herself from her daze. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little nervous.”

“I am too,” he admitted. Mostly because they had no idea what would happen. And he was so afraid he’d lose her. Taking her face in his hands, his ears alert and tilted forward, he said sternly, “Promise me that you will live no matter what.”

Her eyes blew huge. What kind of promise was that? Unable to answer, mouth dry, she stared at his serious expression. Feeling outside of herself, she found she was nodding.

It wasn’t ideal as an answer, but he’d take it. “Good.” He kissed her lips slowly and resumed undressing her.

In no time, they’d peeled each other’s yukata off, baring each other completely. Just the suggestion of mating had gotten Tomoe worked up and, much to his chagrin, he was already hard. It was difficult not to shove her down and take her wantonly when he felt like this, when his body was burning up. Based on her body language, though, she wasn’t ready. So he took the time to run his fingertips down the length of her spine, teasing her skin with his nails every so often. His lips found the tender patch on her throat just under her jaw, and he mouthed at it in deep, audible kisses.

Panting, Nanami shut her eyes, tilting her chin up, her hands falling to Tomoe’s shoulders. The last few months that he’d been in heat — or whatever was going on with him — it’d been the same story. They’d get into bed, get undressed, and he’d be ready to go. Due to her previous training at the brothel, it had been of no consequence to her, but he’d always done this — taken the extra time to work her up so she could enjoy herself too. This time was no exception, and no matter how nervous she was, the things he did with his mouth left her heart pounding.

He ran open palms over her bare skin, starting with her back before gradually making his way over her sides, over her ribcage, and finally up and down her torso. Each pass grew a little wider, and soon his hands found her breasts, cupping them gently. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch, the sensation eliciting harsher breaths from him. Now that the spell had been broken, he could smell something extra from her — she was ovulating, he thought. And it drove him wild.

Losing control, he shoved her down, pinning her to the futon, his tail flicking back and forth. Upon seeing her huge eyes, he stopped and drew in a deep breath. Calm down, he thought, shutting his eyes for a moment. But her smell aroused him so. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and then carefully lowered himself to his stomach, lying beside her. His tail continued to swish.

Since he’d stopped, Nanami relaxed, a wavering laugh leaving her. The adrenaline gradually faded away. “It’s okay — you just surprised me.” And he’d looked like he was going to eat her, she thought. Deep down, she knew he’d never harm her, but her instincts didn’t agree. Looking at his face, she touched her fingertips to his cheek, trailing them down to his jaw and following the line to his chin.

Laying a hand on her stomach, he gingerly caressed it, the action automatic. She seemed calmer now, so he gazed into her eyes, tail flicking once more before stilling. “May I taste you?” he purred. If she smelled this lovely, he could only imagine what she tasted like right now. And he wanted all of it.

Despite herself, she had to admit — with each passing moment, she felt a little hornier. It was stronger than usual, and she wondered if it was because the spell had been broken. Was she able to react to him when he was in heat? She didn’t think it worked that way for humans, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.

She pushed these thoughts aside to nod, running a hand over his cheek. “Yeah, you can go down on me.” She swallowed hard, tremors rippling through her body at the thought of being touched.

In response, he caught her hand and kissed her palm, her wrist. This time, he nipped at the fragile skin there before nibbling on her fingertips. The sensation went straight between her legs and she whimpered. His eyes locked with hers and a hot, wet tongue slipped between her fingers, gliding up the digits until he reached the tips. He sank his incisors into them, the end of his tail flicking once, a playful growl leaving him. That gleam in his eyes, that faint smile at the corners of his mouth, relaxed her and drew a giggle out of her too.

Since her muscles weren’t tense anymore, he finished by kissing each finger he’d bitten, and then shifted down her body, kneeling between her legs. No matter how horny he was, she deserved to be attended to first, he thought. He stretched out, elbows on either side of her, and touched his lips to her collarbone. The light weight of her hand fell on the top of his head, silently encouraging him, so he sank down even farther, migrating kisses down her chest. He pressed a kiss to each rib before paying attention to her breasts, mouthing wetly along the insides of each one before choosing one to focus on.

Nanami stroked Tomoe’s hair, and she was about to rub his ears when they laid back against his head. A smile flickered over her lips, and she decided to leave them alone. For now. The heat of his mouth distracted her, and she shut her eyes, breaths deepening as his lips found one of her nipples. His tongue followed, swiping over the hardened bud, drawing a moan from her. Since when did he smell so amazing? Her other hand found his hair as well and she pushed his head closer, squirming, wishing she could press her thighs together. But he was between her legs.

His lips pursed around her nipple and he sucked it gently, leaving her writhing, whimpering. She bucked up as a small spark of pleasure rippled through her. A few seconds later, he abandoned that nipple to provide the other with the same treatment. She chewed her lower lip, groaning, arching her chest up towards his mouth. Licks and sucks alternated, providing her with a multitude of sensations.

Just before she caved and complained that he should stop teasing her, he slid farther down, once more kissing her ribs. By now, his breaths were ragged and noisy, and when she looked at his head, she found his ears trembling. It was all he could do to hold back, she realized. He kissed her all the way down until he was level with her pelvis. Watching him hover, her mouth went dry, breaths falling faster. Inwardly, she urged him to continue.

Her scent was divine, Tomoe thought. Tasting her skin had been one thing, but this left him a withering mess. It took the utmost self-control to focus on this one activity, but there was reward in it as well. He slid his hands under her thighs, urging her to lift her legs, and then settled onto his stomach. The moment he drew his tongue between her folds to her clit, the taste and smell of her arousal hit him so hard that he moaned.

When her hands tightened in his hair, another tingle of pleasure ran down Tomoe’s spine. He ran his tongue between her folds to her clit again and again, until she wriggled her hips, whimpering. It was time to take this up a notch. First, he sucked on her folds one at a time. Impatience spurred him on, so he didn’t waste much time on this activity before his lips found her clit. Her feet twitched beside his shoulders, and a keen left her, her hands tugging at his hair.

“Tomoe…”

Pleasure coursed through her body as Tomoe’s mouth worked her folds and clit. Being licked had been pleasant, but when he started sucking on her, that was her undoing. She forgot her nerves in favor of pleasure, mind clouded over by desire, inebriation. She tugged at his hair, whining, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. Loud kissing sounds filled the space as he mouthed and sucked at her clit, the sensation lighting up every nerve in that sensitive cluster to a white-hot peak. She whimpered, twitching, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Tomoe… Tomoe.”

He wasn’t going to make it. The scent of her arousal was too much. He tongued her entrance desperately, massaging it and the bottom of her folds with firm strokes. He drew his tongue up to flick her clit, and then captured it in his lips, sucking harder. By now, her breaths had turned to heavy pants, to whimpers and moans, his name leaving her mouth in breathless, high-pitched bursts. Clinging to her thighs, he trembled, his own breaths coming heatedly, that tense ball of need tightening at the base of his length.

The suction was just right, and Nanami felt like she was going to come. She grabbed his ears without meaning to, but as soon as she realized, she stopped herself from pulling. Instead, she massaged them, drawing guttural, animal-like moans from him. Those moans provided the perfect vibrations, and she rolled her hips in more exaggerated movements, crying out, alternating between sounds and gasps of his name. She dug her nails into the velvet fur of his ears, just at the base, drawing an elongated half-moan, half whine from him.

Her heart thundered in her ears, pleasure sparking up and down her legs, leaving her a shaking, writhing mess. It was almost too much. Her flesh felt so hypersensitive, her skin so hot, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Just as that desperation tensed below her navel, and her breaths came in staccato, sharp gasps, he pulled off and sat up on his haunches, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His ears laid back again, and he stared into her eyes. Desperate. One glance at his erection sticking to his stomach, at his body quivering, and she realized — he’d reached his limit.

It was so difficult not to beg. Tomoe could hardly contain himself, and though he hated to leave her hanging, he needed her to be worked up to accept him. She was loosened up enough and relaxed and clearly wanted him, her rich brown eyes reflecting that same fire he felt, half-lidded and full of desire. Her pink lips were parted, panting breaths falling from them, her chest heaving and her nipples pert and peaked.

Lifting one of her legs and propping her heel against his shoulder, he purred, “May I?” He ran his free hand between her legs, over her wetness. This was the prime time to mate, he thought, heart in his mouth. Based on her scent, if they mated tonight, she’d be with child in no time at all.

It was thanks to that ache between her legs that all thoughts flew from her mind, that brain fog settling and taking over. Mouth dry, she nodded vigorously, desperate for him to finish her. She had half a mind to start rubbing her own clit if he didn’t hurry, but she didn’t need to, because no sooner had she nodded did he slip between her legs and lower himself on top of her.

A moan left him as their skin brushed, as her body heat rolled off her in waves. His tail flicked, an impish smile spreading over his face. One of his hands found her bangs, brushing it away from her forehead, fingertips trailing over her cheek. He bumped his nose to hers. 

“I desire you more than I could ever express,” he murmured. 

His other hand remained at her thigh, draping her leg over his shoulder. More than ready to become one with her, he bumped the tip of his erection to her folds. Gods, she was so wet. His whole body trembled, and he pressed the tip to her entrance, beginning to penetrate her.

The moment she caught the primal way he stared at her, one of his fangs sinking into his lower lip, the fog began to lift. It dissipated entirely when she felt his erection start to stretch her. She couldn’t explain what happened, but something inside her clenched and her breath caught sharply. She grabbed his shoulders and shoved, panic tightening in her chest until she couldn’t breathe.

A small sound caught in Tomoe’s throat as she grabbed him and threw him back. Despite being weaker than him, somehow she’d found a hidden Herculean strength, and her push was enough to throw him off. He dropped back to the futon on his elbows, her leg draped over his arm, and he stared at her with huge eyes, mouth twisted downward. She lay stiffly, gasping, her eyes just as wide as his. The scent of adrenaline hit him, and that combined with how violently she shook sparked concern inside him.

“What is wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

Perhaps that was it, he thought, ears laying back. He had been desperate to mate. Perhaps he’d rushed without realizing; perhaps he hadn’t worked her up enough. Or, worse, he’d triggered some sort of memory from her past. What was going on?

Her mind was a million miles away. Her reaction had been so sudden, so automatic, she hadn’t even thought about it before it was over. But now she couldn’t stop shaking, her mind going blank, dissociating from her surroundings. She could die, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. This wasn’t like the modern era. Not to mention, she couldn’t say for sure what sort of children they’d have. What did a yokai and human union look like? A whimper caught in her throat. What if that had been enough to get her pregnant? If he’d been leaking pre-cum, then there was a chance.

That was when she admitted it to herself. “Oh, my god,” she thought, tears building in her eyes. “I’m terrified.”

Seeing how she didn’t respond to him, instead blinking rapidly, her eyes watering, Tomoe’s anxiety mounted to maximum levels. He’d hurt her. He’d done something — although he had no clue what — and now she was hurt and afraid. Tentatively, he crawled closer and dropped to his side, leaning over her, hair falling around them.

“Nanami?” He lightly touched her arm, but she flinched, and he heard her swallow hard. Upset, he dropped his hand from her arm, deciding not to touch her anymore. It seemed she didn’t like that. “Please tell me if I hurt you.”

His touch pulled her back to the moment and she snapped teary eyes up at him. He looked so worried. Guilt stirred thickly in her stomach and a tear spilled over. He didn’t deserve this treatment, she thought. But she had no idea how to explain it to him. She’d freaked out. Unable to look at him anymore, she buried her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to say.

Alarm pricked up his ears, his arousal completely forgotten. “Nanami?”

It was clear she tried to hide it, but he smelled the salt anyway, heard the shallow, open-mouthed pants captured in the small space her hands created. Within a minute, she involuntarily sniffed. She was crying. And not just a little.

Forgetting his decision not to touch her, he laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking it gently. “Please tell me if you are okay. Did I hurt you badly?” A pause, and he heard another sniff, followed by a shallow breath and a hiccup. “Tell me what I did wrong. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Why had she acted like he’d violated her? Her face burned, her embarrassment rising, and she choked back a small sob. If she’d just told him with words, she knew he would’ve stopped. But her reaction had been so sudden that even she couldn’t have stopped it. Worse, they couldn’t go back now. He’d broken the spell over her after asking her multiple times if she was ready, she’d allowed it, and now she’d ruined everything.

A shuddering sob left her and she curled into a ball. It wasn’t fair to turn her back on him, to hide, to ignore his question, but she could hardly breathe, much less speak. A gentle hand fell at her spine, but this time she didn’t flinch. He rubbed slow circles over her back, trying to soothe her, but she just wanted to crawl away and hide.

The way she shied away from him made Tomoe feel like he couldn’t breathe. His ears laid back, and he wondered what he’d done to make her react like this. Visions of the past, of days spent at the brothel holding her while she cried just like this, flitted through his mind. To think of treating her the way one of her clients had… It pierced his heart.

Hand stilling at her back since she’d gone stiff, only hugging her knees to her chest and crying, he dropped to his side behind her, leaving a gap between their bodies. “Please talk to me.” His voice came out thicker, closer to begging than he’d anticipated.

That tone was something she’d never heard from him, and it was enough to snap her out of a total shutdown. She was hurting him. And he hadn’t done anything to deserve this. He hadn’t done anything she’d told him not to. Yet he thought he’d messed up, perhaps beyond repair.

Lowering her hands, she sniffed loudly — because he knew she was crying anyway. Although it was the last thing she wanted to talk about for fear of upsetting him further, he was her husband. And how could he have known? It wasn’t like he could read her mind. Begrudgingly, she rolled over to face him, and when she saw his expression — the heartache in his eyes, the droop of his ears — she felt terrible. Fresh tears spilled over.

“Nanami…” Tomoe laid a hand at her upper arm, brushing a thumb over it soothingly.

Sucking in a breath, she stammered, “I changed my mind.”

“About what?” Somehow, he thought he knew what the answer was, but he wouldn’t make assumptions.

“I don’t want to try for a baby tonight.” She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Unable to help it, a flare of irritation burst inside him. Again and again, he’d asked her if she was ready, had given her time to think about it, and yet this had still happened. His tail snapped so hard his vertebrae twinged in a flash of pain. But he didn’t say anything until he’d had a moment to quell his annoyance. After all, the fact she was this shaken was much worse than the fleeting irritation that she wasn’t self-aware.

Since he hadn’t said anything, only swishing his tail in that way he did whenever something agitated him, Nanami barged on, her upset heightening. “I didn’t know I’d feel like that, okay? Don’t be mad at me!”

“I am not mad,” he mumbled, propping his chin in his hand and rolling onto his stomach. His tail swished again. “I am irritated that you did not realize how you felt. That is all.” He sighed. “But that is secondary to the real issue here. The real issue is you are hurt and you are panicking. I do not want you to feel that way with me.” His gaze softened, his tail stilling. “No matter how you fear it will upset me, please be honest with me. If you don’t want to do something, tell me. If you are not ready, say so. If you change your mind, let me know. I can only trust your word. I don’t know if you don’t tell me.”

“I know.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes again. After drawing in a deep breath, she released it as a shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry.” She brought red-rimmed eyes up to meet his. “I know you’re...in heat or whatever. If you want, I can still go down on you.”

By now, he’d lost his appetite entirely. Seeing her react like that towards him had been too upsetting. Shaking his head, he said, “No, thank you. I am done for the night.”

She’d ruined it. Chin quivering, she began, “I’m so sorry. I feel awful—”

“Please don’t.” He placed a finger at her lips. Then, once he was sure she wouldn’t apologize again, he removed his finger. Momentarily, he sat up, retrieving his yukata. He pulled it on and tied the sash just enough to make himself decent, and then he lay down again. Despite his words, he couldn’t help it — he ached inside. Needing to feel like she still wanted him in some way — even if it was just to be by her side — he extended an arm to her. “May we cuddle?”

Without hesitation, she nodded. She followed suit and pulled her yukata on. Then, she crawled over to him and snuggled against his body. He pulled the covers up over them and held her, his mouth and nose buried in her hair. 

Pressing her mouth into his shoulder, she sighed through her nose and shut her eyes against the tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you…”

So she did know, he thought, ears drooping sideways. “Next time, tell me to stop. All right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what hurt him the most, even more than the rejection. And that was that she hadn’t trusted him. Closing his eyes, holding her close, he said, “I would never harm you. You know I would never do anything you would not want me to do.”

She nodded, wrapping an arm around him, clutching the back of his yukata. “I hope you’ll be okay,” she said in a tiny voice.

“I will be fine.” He kissed the top of her head, and then relaxed into the futon. “Let’s forget about it and get some sleep.”

Although she wasn’t sure either of them would sleep, she nodded anyway. “Okay.” A pause, then: “Good night.”

“Good night.”

The oil lamps flickered out, and they lay perfectly still in the darkness.

Chapter Text

Although Nanami had slept, it hadn’t been well, and she awoke earlier than she needed to the following morning. It seemed Tomoe hadn’t had a peaceful night either, because when she finally gave up on sleep and rolled over, she found him staring at the ceiling in what little light pre-dawn afforded them. When she sighed, he flicked his gaze to her, exhaustion lining his eyes. For a long moment they said nothing, the tension escalating to the point she felt like she’d burst. 

Despite their conversation the night before, it seemed nothing had been solved. If anything, she wouldn’t blame him for being even more upset with her after he’d had time to think about it.

“Hey,” she finally said, voice hoarse. “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

“Not well,” he admitted, resting an arm over his eyes, willing his dull headache to abate. He sighed noisily through his nose. “You tossed about all night.”

She sank beneath the blankets until they covered her nose. “Oh, sorry,” she said, meek.

Usually, he could stop her thrashing by holding her. However, the previous night, a few inadvertent kicks to the shin had forced him to resign. “You hardly relaxed. So you must have been quite disturbed.”

“Yeah…” 

Clearly, he waited for her to address it, and yet she still didn’t know what to say. She’d said she hadn’t known how she’d felt, and she’d apologized. Only time would handle the rest — time and ensuring she never reacted that way again.

A long silence passed, and neither of them made any effort to rise, even though they remained staring — Tomoe at the ceiling and Nanami at his profile. Her thoughts drifted to the night before, how Tomoe had told her he’d lost his appetite for sex, all while assuring her he was fine. But he obviously wasn’t, she thought, clutching the blankets. She couldn’t deny the little voice in her head that whispered to her — she’d ruined her and Tomoe’s sex life.

“Hey,” she said again, and he flicked a glance towards her. “We should talk about it, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed. Truthfully, he felt too drained for a long conversation right now, but that gnawing in his chest wasn’t going to go away on its own.

“I still feel really bad.” Her eyelids drooped, her whole body sagging into the futon, a dead weight. “You said to forget about it but I can’t. It really hurt you.”

“Of course it did,” he muttered. “Because I felt you did not trust me.” What he didn’t say aloud was that he’d assumed she’d trust him after everything they’d been through together.

She winced. “I do trust you—”

This finally forced him to roll over and face her. He propped his cheek in his hand. “If you trust me, then what happened? Did I hurt you? Did I remind you of your past?” He studied her eyes, but she only froze, unblinking. “You offered me a favor even though you were in tears. And such a reaction…” He swallowed hard. “It felt like you offered it out of fear.”

It had seemed like that, she thought, her heart sinking. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured, eyes dropping to the blankets.

“Then you were afraid? Why?” His ears laid back, eyes misty.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wasn’t even thinking when I did it.” No, that wasn’t good enough, she realized, flicking her eyes up to him, finding his steady gaze on her, so soft and filled with hurt. “I guess I panicked.”

His ears pricked up in alarm. “Why?”

“I wish I had a better answer,” she said, forehead creasing. “I changed my mind but I wasn’t sure…”

There it was again — her inability to express herself. And he wished she wouldn’t hide away so far inside of herself that even she didn’t know what she was thinking. He swallowed back the flare of frustration, the burning sensation replaced by knots of tension in the pit of his stomach.

“Was not sure of what? That you could change your mind?” he prompted, brows knitting in concern. “You are always able to change your mind. This is not like how it was at the brothel.”

Tremors vibrated through her limbs, through her fingers and toes, and she sucked in a slow, steady breath. His gaze remained even, locked with hers, all his compassion and gentleness on display. When she didn’t respond, he tilted his head, murmuring her name, and the quiet way he spoke handled her with the kind of care one might give to a fledgling. She steepled her fingers over her nose and breathed deeply.

“You’re right,” she whispered, voice contained by the small space she’d created. “It’s not really about you or how much I trust you. That’s not who I am or how I feel about you. And I’m so sorry.”

Although he hated to smell the stress on her, hated to feel her shaking and tense, there was also something alleviating about her admission. Slowly, he shifted closer to her, reading the signs of her body language to see if he should back off or not. But she angled herself towards him, bumping her forehead against his collarbone, so he melted against her and let her hide away in his body.

It wasn’t a trust issue, he thought, stroking her hair, his ears drooping. Someone with Nanami’s past couldn’t be blamed for having knee-jerk reactions from time to time. In many ways, she’d healed, but the weight she carried with her would never go away. It would forever remain a part of her, shaping the way she viewed the world, distorting her perception of herself and those around her. While saying no should’ve been simple, it wasn’t as black-and-white as people made it out to be.

“No, I am sorry,” he said, cuddling close to her, tilting his face towards the crown of her head. “I should not have said you did not trust me.”

“It’s okay,” she said, fighting back the lump in her throat. “I’d feel the same way, you know? Thinking you didn’t trust me…” She blinked rapidly. “You’re right, though. I should be more self-aware. It’s hard sometimes because I still don’t always know what I want or if it’s about what I’m supposed to want.”

“That is all right. We will work through it.” He rubbed her back. “I only ask that you tell me your feelings, no matter what they are. I want to build a life that both of us can be happy with.” He kissed the top of her head.

A shaky laugh escaped her, but it didn’t last long. Because they had once again looped full circle, and she was right back at that starting point of thinking about what she wanted. In the meantime, the spell had been removed, and as he’d said before, there was no going back.

Every freedom they’d had, every boundless encounter, every intimacy had vanished overnight. And while he wouldn’t admit it, she knew what sexlessness did to marriages.

“I wish I hadn’t been so stupid,” she said, clawing her fingers into his yukata.

“What do you mean?”

She shut her eyes against the sting that arose, and her voice cracked slightly. “I ruined our sex life. And for what? Nothing.”

Feeling her chest jolt with the hitch of her breath, Tomoe felt another wave of sorrow pass over him. He draped an arm over her side and held her tightly, nuzzling into her hair. “It is all right,” he whispered. “You have done no such thing.”

“But I have!” she cried, though she continued to grasp him. “I know how much sex means to you, and now I’m denying you that. I’m scared you’ll feel rejected or hurt or it’ll ruin our marriage.” She sniffed. “I don’t want you to resent me.”

A long sigh pulled from him. “No such thing will happen. I could never resent you. You know that yokai’s hearts do not change. Nothing you do could make me stop loving you.”

He hadn’t responded as to whether or not he felt rejected. Her heart leapt in her throat. “What about the rest? About me rejecting you?”

As much as he didn’t want to tell her that her rejection had hurt, he also remembered his vows to her. They should talk about it. “Of course it hurts, but not for the reason you think it does.” Her grip loosened ever so slightly. “It hurts because you did not tell me what you were comfortable with.”

“But I feel like I’m depriving you.” She sniffed, her chest clenching.

“What? No.” His ears flicked back. “Of course I will miss the connection, but it has not even been a day. Besides, we can do other things. You have not denied me affection and that is the important thing.” He nuzzled her head again. “I can wait. I will be all right.”

She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent. “Are you sure?”

“I am positive. We can still have sex other ways if you wish. But please…only offer it if you want to.” He squeezed her, wrapping his tail around her hips. “It is not a compulsive need for me. I enjoy it because you enjoy it — and because we love each other.”

“I feel the same way. I guess that’s why it’s so hard,” she admitted.

“And what about the night before our wedding? We enjoyed what we did then, didn’t we?” When she hummed in affirmation, he kissed her head. “See? All is well.”

A whimper left her, but she nodded. “Thank you.” Reaching up, she wiped the last of her tears away. Now she just felt exhausted, the relief leaving her weak. “Do you feel better?”

“I should be asking you that,” he replied. A tiny smile flickered over his mouth. “But, yes, I do feel better. I hope you do too.”

“I do.” She squeezed him. “Thank you, Tomoe. I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. I’ll take care of the chores, okay? It sounds like you got less sleep than I did.”

A dry laugh left him. “Oh, but you are the one going to work today. I can always take a nap.”

In response, she lifted her head and kissed his chin, one of her hands fluttering to his cheek. “I want to do this for you. I have to make up for keeping you awake.”

Normally, he’d push back since this was his job, but he was much too tired to protest. “All right, but go straight to bed when you come home. I will handle everything else.”

She watched him sink to the futon, his eyes shrouded with heavy lids. Poor man, she thought, stroking his hair. “Sure. Feel better.” Leaning over, she kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

A tired sigh left him, but he tilted his chin up and grazed her jaw in a fleeting kiss. “I love you too.”

Not long after she rose from their bed, he stilled, a leaden weight pressing down on him. His eyes fell shut, and he drifted to a much needed sleep.

—

Even though Nanami knew she only had a window of a couple of days where she could conceive — and Tomoe had even told her he was able to sense it — she couldn’t help her paranoia. It made no sense yet she couldn’t help but worry they’d mess up. She knew it was frustrating for Tomoe — or, at least, she was sure it was. Even so, she avoided laying with him and stuck with giving him oral. That would sate him during heat, she thought. Deep inside, she knew it wasn’t enough. He might not have complained, but she knew how much he enjoyed connecting with her. She couldn’t shake the guilt over taking that away from him.

It was almost like what had happened flashed over her like a neon sign, that it was obvious something had gone wrong in her marriage, because when she opened the teahouse that day, Hana pulled her from her thoughts. “Nanami-san?” When Nanami hummed, looking up from her ledger, Hana continued. “You’re married, right?”

“Yeah.” She offered a tiny smile. Since Hana was going on seventeen, she figured the girl must’ve already been thinking about marriage. After all, it probably wouldn’t be long before she was married as well. Perhaps she wanted advice. “What about it?”

“I was just curious because I haven’t seen your husband in town — only you.” She smiled. “Did you just get married?”

Surprised, Nanami shook her head. “No, we’ve been married for a year and a half.”

She bit her lip, thoughts drifting to Tomoe. How could she explain his absence? He came into town occasionally, but he’d told her it was best for their sake if he stayed out of it as much as possible. The only reason anyone believed she was married was because many of them had met Tomoe at some point or another.

“Oh, okay, that’s not that long, then.” Hana turned around, stoking the fire she’d just started in the kamado.

Confused, Nanami said, “Well, I still know a thing or two about marriage. If you want to ask me!” She offered a warm smile.

“It...might be rude,” Hana said just above a whisper.

Nanami blinked. Based on that comment, she wondered if Hana had questions about sex. After all, no one really talked about it, and it wasn’t like they had sex education here. “That’s okay. You have my permission to ask.”

“Well, if you say so.” Hana kept her back turned. When she spoke again, her voice was thin, wavering, almost embarrassed. “Is there a way to, you know, not get pregnant?”

Nanami blinked. Odd question, she thought. But she supposed it was fair enough. Perhaps Hana felt safer with her since she was more open-minded than most of the village women. But of course she was, she thought; she came from a time where women had more choices. After having lived in this world for four years, she knew these were feelings that women kept locked away and hidden behind closed doors. Hana was young, and she could imagine she needed a confidante. Still, it was difficult to think of an answer to her question.

“Well, there are ways around it,” she said carefully. Thinking about the spell, she decided it’d be best not to mention it. After all, it wasn’t anything accessible to the people here. Instead, she told her, “You don’t have to go all the way with your husband if you’re not ready for kids. There are other things you can do.” She paused, wondering if it was inappropriate to divulge any more details. No matter what rules applied in this world, it still felt wrong to talk about it too much. “Other than that, sometimes, it’s just not your time. It doesn't always happen. There are only a couple of days a month that a woman can get pregnant, anyway.”

“So...is that why you and your husband don’t have children?”

Her question hung in the air and Nanami froze, glancing over at her apprentice. Hana refused to look at her, instead busying herself arranging containers of tea, suddenly very interested in them. This was a question she hadn’t been able to dodge since coming here, and it had gotten old. Although, usually, the women of the village asked her if she was having trouble and offered prayers and charms and herbal remedies. A woman who couldn’t give her husband a child was a rather useless woman indeed. At least, that was what people acted like.

Usually, it incensed her. But when Hana asked that question, Nanami just felt her chest ache. Such a young girl, she thought, watching her. She decided to take another approach. 

“Is that why you’re asking me about marriage?” she asked softly. “Are you nervous about having children?”

The other girl shot an anxious glance in her direction, hands faltering at a tea caddy. “Y-yeah.” She dropped her gaze. “My father’s already talking about arranging a marriage for me. He says I’m of age for that sort of thing.”

A frown furrowed Nanami’s brow, a flicker of indignation rising inside her. This wasn’t unexpected, but to think of a girl as young as sixteen being considered of age for marriage made her clench her fists. She drew in a deep breath to calm herself. As Tomoe had often told her, none of them had control over the way things were. Still, to think of this girl being someone’s property … She should thank the gods she’d met a man like Tomoe. There was no one like him, surely. And to think of how she’d met him too.

Turning her attention back to Hana, her countenance sobered as she saw the dejected slope of her shoulders. They’d rarely talked about the other girl’s home life — and Nanami hadn’t said much about her personal life either. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Do you think your dad will let you wait a little longer? I mean, you have a job with me now.” She offered a smile. “That brings in some money, right?”

“Yeah, and it’s not like I’ll be leaving the village or anything. We don’t have much to offer, so he’s trying to find a man here.” 

Hana paused, turning to face Nanami. Her eyes held such a dearth of hope that it had Nanami’s breath catching. She recognized that look. That had been how she’d felt a year and a half ago. 

“Marrying a man wouldn’t be so bad, as long as he was nice to me,” Hana continued. “I just worry about having children.” A pause, and then her voice dropped to a whisper. “My mother died in childbirth with my younger brother.”

A pang struck Nanami, knocking the breath from her. No wonder. Her eyes settled on Hana’s figure and her mouth went dry. Her frame was so small, her hips so slim. She’d never thought about it much, but she was built similarly. What if that meant she wouldn’t be able to have kids? 

Willing her heart to calm, she told herself — she didn’t really know that. Small women had been having children since the dawn of time. And it wasn’t like she’d studied medicine. The only reason she was freaking out was because she’d just faced this conversation with her own husband.

However, thinking about that reality — how she’d felt growing up without a mother, how Hana and her siblings must’ve felt on their own — made her ache to the bone. If her mother had lived, her life would’ve been vastly different. And she believed that extra guiding light would’ve spared her much heartache.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, mouth quivering, brow furrowed. “I also lost my mother when I was five. It must’ve been so painful for you.”

“Yeah, it was.” Here, Hana nodded and looked up with a shaky smile. “Anyway, it’s hard to avoid forever, huh? Because men won’t wait. The whole point of marriage is to carry the family line on and provide an heir, isn’t it?”

Nanami stared at her with huge eyes. It would be irresponsible to vehemently deny it, since that was the reality of the society they lived in. But she couldn’t let her sit there and think that either. 

“No.” She shook her head, then stood and crossed the room to kneel by the other girl. Now they were eye level. “Even in arranged marriages you can have more than that. You shouldn’t let anyone treat you like that’s all you are.” Smiling softly, she took Hana’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “Find a man who respects and cherishes you. If he talks to you like you’re nothing more than that to him, then tell your father he won’t be good to you and find another suitor.”

Hana’s eyes widened and she blinked, lips parting. She’d probably never heard anyone say this before, Nanami thought. Especially if she’d grown up without a woman’s influence in her life. “What about you and your husband? Is that what happened?”

At this, Nanami laughed weakly. She decided to twist the truth a bit. “Well, neither of us have parents around, so we didn’t have anyone pushing us to marry. We met by chance and fell in love. We chose to marry each other because we wanted to get married. But...I know most people aren’t so lucky. I guess fate let us have this one thing — to make up for the hard lives we lived before this.” Now that she said it out loud, she was sure it was the truth.

“Your husband doesn’t complain about wanting children?” Hana asked. “I don’t know how old you are, but you seem old enough to have at least one or two.”

One or two. Nanami had to bite back a groan. That was another reality of this era, which she hadn’t considered when breaking the spell. Ideally, she’d figured having two children would be enough altogether. Since she’d grown up as an only child in an empty house, she didn’t want her kids to suffer the same fate. Even if she and Tomoe were present in their children’s lives, who knew what circumstances would arise.

“Well, he did bring it up recently,” she admitted with a blush. She flashed back to how upset he’d sounded, how devastated he’d looked when she’d thrown him off of her. Once more, her chest clenched. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“You mean you’ve prevented it all this time?” Hana stared at her with wide eyes.

A nervous laugh left Nanami. “Y-yeah, well, we’ve been careful.” She wasn’t sure how else to put it.

Confused, Hana asked, “But don’t men expect, um, marital relations? Isn’t that something we have to do?”

This was getting complicated, Nanami thought, a bit uncomfortable. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. A man forcing himself on you or convincing you to do it is a terrible person.” She frowned. “If a man won’t take no for an answer, he’s not husband material and you get out of that as fast as you can. Don’t ever rely entirely on a man, either, because if he turns out to be a jerk, you need a way out.”

Taking in Hana’s huge eyes, she realized — she may have said too much. That hadn’t been her question. But her mind had gone right back to the brothel, how the men had treated her there, how they’d put their hands all over her and enticed her with coin. On the other hand, Tomoe had told her just the other day — he’d never touch her in a way that would hurt her.

With a sigh, she shut her eyes. “Sorry. I’ve had some bad experiences with men. Before I married my husband, I was forced to do some things I didn’t want to do.” She looked away. “Anyway, that wasn’t what you asked. If you really have to know, you don’t have to go all the way with your husband. There’s things you can do that won’t lead to getting pregnant. But… You’ll have to figure that one out with your husband. It’s not my place to tell you how to do those things.”

Based on Hana’s small pout, she wasn’t satisfied with this answer, but there was no way Nanami was going to teach her, even with vague descriptions. It made her shudder to think of the way the girls at the brothel had taught her, had groomed her to lay with men, had tested her until she was practiced enough in the more carnal arts. Even if Hana hadn’t been a teenager, she wouldn’t have been able to do it. She couldn’t do that to another woman.

Standing, she offered a warmer smile, deciding to set that boundary now and end this conversation. “Well, I have to go out for a bit and pick up supplies. You handle things here, okay?”

After a mumbled ‘okay’ from Hana, Nanami bid her goodbye and scurried out of the teahouse. Great, people thought there was something wrong with her. Now she had yet another weight hanging over her head, and it wasn’t just about being different. Guilt thickened in her midst, her heart fluttering uncomfortably. Tomoe wanted children badly — and yet he was willing to give that up for less than her safety; he was willing to give it up for her comfort.

As she walked down the street, she once again asked herself — what did she have to bring to the table in their marriage? Sometimes, she wasn’t so sure.

—

By the time she finished her day and went home, she was still in a glum mood. Usually, Tomoe cooked dinner, but today, she decided she’d do it — only because he did so much around the house. She needed to pull her weight more at home, she’d thought. He must’ve picked up on her mood, because he kept shooting her concerned glances, but she didn’t feel like talking — or eating, for that matter. She’d hoped it had only been low blood sugar, but after eating, she didn’t feel much better.

That conversation with Hana had dredged up feelings she’d tried to push aside. Sometimes, seeing the village women go about their days with children in tow, occasionally shooting sympathetic glances in her direction, murmuring to each other about how she was barren, made her feel small. Like she wasn’t really one of them. Like she wasn’t a real adult. Like she was messed up, unobliging, refusing to do her part. She wasn’t fulfilling her role as a wife — at least, that was what she imagined they said about her. And her poor husband — how he must feel.

She wasn’t making him happy. And she wasn’t enough.

She felt so crummy about it that she took a bath early and then crawled into their futon while Tomoe had his bath. Sometimes, living in this era sucked, she thought, staring up at the shadows from the oil lamps flickering over the ceiling. There was nothing to distract her from the anxiety she felt — no TV, no music, no books, nothing. She’d relegated herself to disappearing into her thoughts when a weight dropped beside her and she jolted, breath catching. Turning her head, she found it was just Tomoe, who was dressed for bed and had curled up on his side. She relaxed and stared up at the ceiling again.

Ever since she’d come home, Nanami had been in a mood. She’d seemed detached, not willing to hold a conversation, crawling into her head. It was clear something bothered her — something more than she’d already been struggling with over the last week. Hoping to comfort her, hoping to gain some warmth from her touch as well, he inched closer and laid his head on her chest. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he waited to see if she’d tell him.

It was no surprise that Tomoe snuggled up to her, and it wasn’t unwelcome. But it did stir up fresh guilt. He hadn’t come on to her since she’d rejected him, even though she’d offered to satisfy him with oral. And he had taken her up on it. She wondered if he wanted sex tonight too, but all he did was rest his head on her chest, lying still, his tail curled over his hip and spilling over her legs. Her heart melted, and she placed a hand between his ears, stroking his hair.

The fact she stroked his hair was a good sign, but Tomoe noticed how she stayed far away from his ears. His ears laid back momentarily as he thought about how he’d never seen her like this before. Sure, she’d had times when she’d cried on him at the brothel about how she didn’t want to do it anymore, how disgusted she was. But she’d never been shy about sex. Now she avoided not only sex but also touching him in any way that might turn him on. Perhaps she was unaware of it, but after having had some semblance of a relationship with her for over two years, he could tell.

It was also clear she wasn’t going to bring it up. So he decided to speak first. “You seem bothered, my love.”

She’d been absentmindedly stroking his hair, blinking slowly up at the ceiling as her mind went blank, when his voice pulled her back to the present. Although she hadn’t known what to say — and she hadn’t planned on talking about it before she worked through it on her own — she had to admit she didn’t have anyone to confide in about this. No one would understand. No one except for Tomoe.

Besides, they had vowed to each other on their wedding day that they’d be more than lovers — they were life partners, confidantes, friends. She was sociable towards many of the villagers, but Tomoe was her only true friend. And she’d promised him that he’d be the first person she went to. That she wouldn’t keep secrets from him.

“I am,” she admitted, threading her fingers through his hair, appreciating the silky strands. “I had a conversation with Hana today that made me think.” Absentmindedly, her hand drifted behind one of his ears, but she only rubbed it for a few seconds before it clicked — and she moved her hand to his hair again.

Tomoe had to bite back his anguished noise. Even if it wasn’t in a sexual context, having his ears rubbed felt lovely. He missed her ear massages. And he hoped that his desires wouldn’t lead to her withholding even the innocent touches. “You may rub my ears. It will not lead to anything.”

There was an almost pleading undertone to his voice, so she hesitantly touched his ear again. As she gently massaged the base of it, taking care to keep it affectionate, she continued. “We started talking about marriage. She had a lot of questions, and she’s worried because she thinks she has to have sex, but she’s afraid of getting pregnant.” She paused, flicking her gaze down at the top of his head, trying to gauge his reaction.

Tilting his head closer to Nanami’s touch, Tomoe hummed. “Mm, yes, that is not surprising. She is quite young, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She’s just sixteen and her father’s already talking about marrying her off.” Momentarily, Nanami forgot about the era they lived in, aghast. “Can you believe that?”

“That is not unusual. I know it was where you came from, but it is common here.” Tomoe shut his eyes, relishing her touch, waves of warmth flooding him along with those feel-good hormones this act released. Gods, it felt so good.

Nanami sagged. “I know, but would it kill them to wait a few years? Ugh.”

“Some people are too poor to afford another mouth to feed. It is a way of remedying that.” Tomoe stopped there, not wanting to fire her up.

“I know.” Something irate edged Nanami’s tone.

“And I know that you know. I am simply reiterating that fact.”

At this, Nanami relaxed. Dealing with men day in and day out, sometimes it was easy to forget that Tomoe didn’t talk to her with those sorts of intentions. He’d always had a compassion for women that was unusual given the time period, and he’d been malleable as far as her values were concerned. He was a gem, she thought.

“Anyway,” she continued, “she was asking me if there was a way not to get pregnant. I didn’t explain what we did — I just told her there were ways around it. She’s conflicted, though, because she acted like a woman who didn’t give her husband a child was useless.”

Scowling, Tomoe muttered, “Useless? What nonsense. A man’s wife is also his companion.”

“Thank you!” Even though Nanami knew having children was different in the ayakashi world, it still felt good to hear someone say it. Here, she faltered, hesitant, but she pushed forward anyway. “I know you say that’s not how you feel about me, but after Hana and I talked about it, it still made me feel bad. Because I promised you when we married that I’d give you children, and you really want them, but I can’t even give you that.”

His ears pricked and his heart leapt. “You cannot?”

“I mean, I messed it up the other night, didn’t I?” she asked.

His stomach sank, and he began in soft tones, “Nanami—”

She barrelled on. “Even worse, Hana said that having sex and giving men an heir was an obligation women have to their husbands. And I hate that — it’s not like I agree — but I still feel so guilty.”

So the villagers pressured her, he thought with a hum. If this was a glimpse into what sorts of conversations she endured, then it was no wonder she felt the way she did. “Try not to let them influence you. Perhaps you were obligated to please others in the past, but things are different now. The only ones we need to please are ourselves.” His voice took on a gentler tone. “I want you to agree because you want to have my child — not because you are pushed by the villagers’ thoughtlessness.”

“I know. I don’t want to live a life just because people tell me I should live that way. But…if you hear it enough times you start to believe it a little bit.” Her hand stilled at his ear.

He frowned. If there was one thing he’d learned from his friendship with Akura, it was that keeping quiet about his private life was best. It seemed she didn’t have this same discretion. “Then do not have such conversations with them. If they must be nosy, change the subject. Distract them. You owe them nothing.”

“Tomoe…”

“Let them blather incessantly about their own lives, as I am sure they would be happy to talk about themselves.” His frown deepened, the tip of his tail flicking. Then, he sighed through his nose, his expression softening. “Just know that I don’t believe you are useless. Simply having your company is enough to call you my wife. Truly, I have never been happier than I am now.”

Chin quivering, she nodded. Slowly, she began to stroke his ear again. “Ugh, you’re the best. No other man is as good as you.”

A tiny smile twitched on his lips. “Well, that would be a problem if you thought another man was better than your husband, wouldn’t it?”

Hearing the mirth underlying his tone, she couldn’t help but laugh even as a few tears slipped out. “I’d never think that.”

“I know.” He kissed her breast, no ounce of heat behind the action. “Please don’t worry yourself with such trifles. I have told you already — I would like you to carry my cubs, but if it hurts you, or if it is not something you also want, then it is not worth it.”

“I do want it. I’m just scared. It’s a big responsibility and there are so many unknowns and just... ugh.”

That didn’t seem like enough of a reason, he thought, biting back a hum. “There are always unknowns in life. We do not even know what each day holds.” He gave her a squeeze. “But we have some time. For now, I am content to be with you. If you decide you cannot do it at this time, then we will work around it.”

“But our sex life,” she whined.

“Is fine,” he finished. “Even if you don’t lay with me, I still enjoy what we do. I will not lie and say I would like it if you stopped touching me, but I want you to be comfortable and happy. I want to be with you. That is what will make me happy.”

The sudden notion struck her, and the words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. “But I wouldn’t be happy.”

The corners of his mouth twitched downward and he sighed. “Well, I can decide for myself what makes me happy, can’t I?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She watched Tomoe lift his head, his amethyst eyes locking with hers, his lips parted. Her hand remained at his ear, tenderly rubbing it. “I meant I wouldn’t be happy if I never got to have sex with you again. I want to have sex with you. It’s important to me too.” A small whimper vibrated in the back of her throat, and she gazed up at him with large, miserable eyes.

His own gaze softened. “Then we will find a way to replace the spell until you are truly ready for a child.” He laid his head back on her breasts.

“It’s too risky for us to go to the ayakashi world,” she protested. “Even for you to go… You might get hurt. I mean, the gods would be after you again, right?”

“I would do anything for you. I would risk anything to make you happy.”

“Well, I’d be devastated if something happened to you. So please don’t go on my account.” She pressed his head to her heart, chin quivering again. “I love you. I’d rather have you here with me than risk losing you just because of something like sex.”

At first, heat rushed to his cheeks, his muscles tensing. Being unable to solve her problem made him feel useless. And he didn’t understand what she wanted from him. However, recognizing the anguish in her tone, he relaxed, his ears lowered. 

“I did not mean to upset you. I only wanted to find a solution.” Shutting his eyes, he kissed her chest, over her heart. “But if you do not want me to, I will not go.”

Lump in her throat, she nodded. “Stay with me. It’s not worth it.”

“All right.” 

He lifted his head, searching her gaze. She looked miserable. It broke his heart to see her like this. When they’d married, he’d promised her he’d make her happy. And when she wore such a helpless expression, he felt like he’d fallen short.

Shifting up her body, he leaned on one arm and hovered over her face, studying her eyes. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he offered yet again. “Nanami, it does not have to be like this. If it bothers you this much, I can assure you — I can tell when you are fertile. We can avoid this.”

“But what if you make a mistake?” She looked up at him, grieved. “If we have sex and then I ovulate a few days later, I could get pregnant.”

“Then we will wait until after you do.” He stroked her hair. “We can have less penetrative sex. It does not bar us from connecting.”

Despite what he said, she couldn’t help it — she wasn’t convinced. Mistakes were easy to make, even for a fox like Tomoe. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said. “I trust you to tell me the truth. It’s just that anything could happen. My cycle could go crazy on me and make us mess up. You know?”

At her rejection of this idea, a spark of unease lit inside of him. Yet again, she made it difficult for him to offer a solution. “It is impossible for you to get pregnant after you ovulate,” Tomoe muttered, his tail thumping once before he caught himself. “But very well. Tell me if you change your mind — whether that is about having sex or getting pregnant. All I ask is that you are certain of your choice.”

A part of him wondered if she truly wouldn’t have penetrative sex with him again. Quickly, he shook it from his mind. Like he’d told her before, it hadn’t been long. However, if she continued to react to him like this — even in the small ways, like touching his ears — he couldn’t help but worry her anxieties would morph from hesitation to complete disconnect.

Biting back a whimper, Nanami reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and urging him to lie down again. Once he did, she cradled his head in her arms. “Okay.” A long pause, and she petted his hair. Then: “Can we talk about this later? It’s a lot to think about, and I’m really tired.”

This made Tomoe peek up at her, wondering if he’d said the wrong thing. But even though she looked away, she continued to touch him so delicately, to stroke his hair and occasionally rub his ears. No, he decided, he hadn’t said anything to hurt her. It seemed like she needed time to process this. Why that was, he couldn’t say, because he hadn’t even asked her to have his cubs again.

“All right.” He tilted his head up and kissed her chin. Taking the hint, she leaned down and captured his lips in a fuller kiss. He held it for a moment, relishing this bit of contact, and then they parted. “Sleep well, dear wife.”

“You too.” She nuzzled him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

As soon as she released him, he shifted up the bed until they were eye level. Once he’d gotten comfortable, he pulled the covers up over their bodies. Before he settled down for the night, he leaned down and kissed her one last time. He hoped she’d make up her mind soon.

Chapter Text

Several weeks passed since their conversation, and Nanami still seemed down. Why this decision had hit her so hard, Tomoe couldn’t say. For him, it was a non-issue; she either did or didn’t follow through at this time. But it seemed she couldn’t stop feeling guilty about not giving him children. And he didn’t like that at all.

Yet even if he didn’t understand her, he didn’t have to in order to move forward. She’d made it clear she wasn’t ready, and he’d accepted that, having decided to table the decision until she told him otherwise. Maybe being in heat made it more difficult for him, but it wasn’t intolerable. It was an impermanent state, and she continued to kiss him and touch him, gradually relaxing into physical contact again, so he had faith they would get through this.

At the same time, however, he’d noticed she’d been slipping into bad habits again. The bad habits of offering him sexual favors while taking none for herself. He wasn’t sure where it came from — if she was afraid to let him smell her arousal or what — but he wanted to set them on the right track again. She needed a reminder that they were equals, that their relationship was so much greater than it had been in her days at the brothel. 

That was why he decided it was time to do something special for her. Something that would show her he loved her no matter what, and that they could be happy together as it was. He spent the day cleaning their home and tending to the garden, and then cooked a feast for her. All he wanted was to see her smile again. She’d seemed so depressed. But things should’ve been on their way back to normal, and he’d treated her like he always had, so he didn’t understand what was wrong.

She arrived home before the sun set, just as he had finished moving dinner outside, to the picnic spot he’d prepared. From the back veranda, he heard the front door open, and his ear twitched. Leaving their place settings as they were, he stood and padded into the house. There, he found her washing her hands, her face blank. She looked tired.

Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. “Welcome home, my love.”

Despite the funk she’d been in lately, Tomoe hadn’t stopped treating her this way — sweet and gentle and loving. Surely, he knew she was still on edge, as she’d needed time to think on her own. And as a part of that soul searching, she’d done some investigation.

Over the last several weeks, she’d asked several of the village women about childbirth, regardless of their prying. After all, she didn’t want this to hold her back forever. They’d confirmed her suspicions — that it was risky — but if the women she’d met had pulled through, then she felt more assured that she could as well.

That very day, she’d gone by the village’s herbalist and asked about her frame, fretting whether or not she was at risk for a difficult or fatal childbirth, a concern she’d heard from so many of her peers regarding their own pregnancies. Some of the prodding had been invasive, but having worked at the brothel for two and a half years had made it easy to bear, and it was worth it to have an answer. Now she had that answer — but she hadn’t decided when to tell him.

Tomoe’s nose nudged her hair, and his voice pulled her from her thoughts. “How was your day?”

Realizing she’d spaced out, she sank into his embrace and sighed, comforted by it. She pushed her thoughts aside, touching his arm and leaning against his chest. “Hey, Tomoe. It was all right.”

Just like usual, she was hardly present, he thought. “That is all I get?” He growled playfully and nipped the shell of her ear, hoping for at least a hint of a smile. Instead, she turned her head and nuzzled his throat, sighing softly. For now, he let it go. “Come outside and have dinner with me. The cherry blossoms are still in full bloom. They are beautiful and fragrant today.”

He’d set up a date night for them, she realized, a tiny smile flickering over her mouth. Since coming to this village, most of their dates had been at home, although occasionally they might go for a little trip out over the mountain. They didn’t dare go far, though, and there wasn’t much to do in town so it was hard to go out. Perhaps this was what she needed, she thought. Although they had dinner together every night, it’d been a few weeks since they’d had a date.

“Okay.” She pulled back and managed a smile, one that he returned.

He kissed her forehead, and then released her only to take her hand and lead her to the back veranda. Once there, he stopped to let her take in his work. Since the sun hovered at the horizon, he’d suspended tiny balls of foxfire to provide light amongst the cherry blossoms for that time when twilight gave way to night. She should be able to enjoy the blooms to their fullest, he thought. After all, she wasn’t here much during the day to see them. Amidst the grove, by the cool stream, he’d laid out a blanket to sit on, along with the meal he’d prepared, complete with sake.

Nanami paused at the steps to drink it in, marveling at the periphery of cherry trees, the pale pink petals surrounding them like a cloud of cotton candy. At the sight of his foxfire, her smile widened, her eyes softening. It was always so beautiful, so ethereal, she thought. But of course it was — he wasn’t of this world. The sensation of his lips against her knuckles pulled her attention to him, and she blushed, grinning at the sight of his ears laid back.

“You were right — it is pretty,” she agreed.

“You should take more time to enjoy it. I know you have ambitions, but do not let the world pass you by.” He kissed her hand again, and then led her down the steps to the yard.

She followed him until they reached the blanket, and then he helped her sit. Glancing around at the spread, she found he’d already prepared dishes for her — and he’d even poured her tea and sake prior to her arrival. The words blurted out before she could stop them. “You’re such a good man.” Her mouth quivered and then she laughed. “Ugh, thank you so much. I needed this.”

“I know you did.” He settled down across from her and lifted his bowl, taking a moment to gently mix the ingredients. “You have seemed so distant lately.”

“You know I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Lifting her own bowl, she found herself looking at a medley of meats and vegetables. The scent was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. After taking a few small bites, she realized what the recipe was. This was the stew he’d prepared her on the night they’d gotten engaged. Maybe it wasn’t made with seafood, but he’d put in the effort.

“You made the dish…” She bit her lower lip. Gods, why did she feel so emotional?

“Of course. I wish I could have brought back fish for you, but we are too far from the coast. I hope the flavor is still to your liking.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s delicious.” She offered another smile. “You’re a wonderful cook.”

He opened his mouth to say he just wanted to see her happy again, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he put another bite of food in his mouth. Silence fell over them; it seemed he’d lost her to her thoughts again. He gave her some space, seeing if she’d come to him with whatever was on her mind. But she only stared down at her bowl.

After several minutes, he decided he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Are you unhappy here? Or with me?”

“Huh?” She snapped her eyes up to his, mortified. Had it gotten to the point he thought he was to blame? “No! No, I’m not. I’m just thinking.”

She lifted her cup of sake and took a large mouthful, eyes darting out over the garden. It was a beautiful night. And it was a shame to waste it on whatever she was feeling. Since having those conversations about the risks, she’d asked herself if she was ready to try again. Yet she struggled to conjure fuzzy mental images of the happy family life that had always seemed out of her reach — visions of her and Tomoe curled up with their children on cold nights, of their house being warm and occupied, of their home filled with scents of food cooking and the sounds of their children playing. And while these thoughts brought an ache of unbearable longing to her chest, a lump tightening in her throat, she still wanted to ease into it. Because a small voice in the back of her head asked — what if a life like that wasn’t real?

However, they’d reached the point where she couldn’t justify holding it inside any longer. After all, this had been the barrier to moving forward with their lives, and if he’d begun to believe he was at fault, then he deserved to know what she was thinking.

But, gods, she needed to be tipsy for this conversation. Without waiting for him, she poured another serving of sake and gulped it down.

Despite her claim that it wasn’t about him, the way she drank made his heart falter. He stared as she downed a second cup in no time flat. No, he couldn’t let this slide. “What is wrong?”

Maybe the alcohol hadn’t quite kicked in yet, but the little she’d had at the beginning of their meal had made her feel warmer, a bit fuzzy. His worried gaze tugged at her heart. Somehow, she found her tongue.

“I saw the herbalist today.”

“Yes?” Tomoe sipped his tea, eyes never leaving hers.

“And I had her examine me…”

Ears pricking up in alarm, Tomoe asked, “Why? Are you sick?” Panic constricted his throat, his heart beginning to pound. He couldn’t be losing her. Not so soon. He’d hardly had any time with her at all. But humans were so frail, so weak, and their lives so fleeting. It was all he could do not to crawl to her and pull her into his arms then and there.

“No! No, nothing like that.” She poured another cup of sake and sipped it. “The reason I went was because I was scared my hips might be too small.”

This froze Tomoe in place. He side-eyed her, uncertain. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

He still didn’t know, Nanami thought, biting back a sigh. “I just…wanted to know if I could give birth okay.”

He nearly dropped his cup. They hadn’t discussed their plans to have children in a while, and a part of him had assumed she wouldn’t bring it up again anytime soon. Still, he chose caution. “What do you mean?”

“If my hips were too narrow, it could make labor more complicated. The women I know seemed worried about it,” she explained, turning her gaze away from his intent stare. “But the herbalist told me I should be okay. I’m small, but she said my bone structure was good. So...we don’t have to worry too much about that.” She snuck a glance up at him, and then took another sip of sake.

“We can have children without fear of losing you?” He all but held his breath, staring deeply into her eyes. 

At this, she hummed. “It’s not the only risk, but it’ll probably be okay.” At his hesitant glance, she fumbled for the words. “I mean, nothing’s ever guaranteed, but I’m pretty healthy. She doesn’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“I see.” His shoulders relaxed. “Do you feel better?”

She nodded and finished her cup of sake. “Yeah, a little. It’s not as safe as where I came from, but the people I talked to were pretty positive once I told them what the herbalist said.” The heat rushed to her head, her cheeks flushing, and the words came spilling out of her mouth. “So I want us to consider it more seriously again — if you’re willing. I really want to get past this.”

“Mhm.” Tomoe eyed her suspiciously. “The way you are drinking says to me you are not ready to have this conversation. I hope you are not pushing yourself out of guilt.”

“Not really. It’s true I feel bad — but I want kids too. And not just with anyone.” Her eyes fluttered shut, and she found it hard to breathe. When she spoke again, her voice was faint. “I want to have kids with you, because I love you so much. And it’s not just because I want to make you happy. I always wanted to be a part of a family, and if they take after you...” Her eyes fluttered open, her voice soft. “Maybe that’s selfish.”

The tension at his ears dissolved. “No, I feel that way too. I was the one who said I would like a piece of you to remain with me.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” A shaky laugh escaped her. “It’s just…nerve-wracking since we don’t have the same medical treatment like where I’m from. But we’d have to face it sooner or later, huh? So maybe I should just…suck it up, you know?” 

Another humorless laugh died in her throat, her thoughts tumbling over each other. It didn’t really matter, she thought, clutching her cup. Modern medicine hadn’t even been enough to save her own mother from the mystery illness which had claimed her life. And how lonely she’d been afterward… Any semblance of that cozy family had been shattered the day she’d laid eyes on her mother stretched in her futon, a cloth draped over her eyes, death shrouding her. Of all the trials she’d suffered in her life, losing her mother had been the most painful one.

Right before she took another sip of sake to wash away the images from her nightmares, Tomoe’s hand covered the mouth of her cup.

She’d been spiraling, he thought, recognizing the glazed look in her eyes. And this was no way to make a decision. “Stop. If you wish to discuss this, then eat something and talk to me while you are sober.” 

She met his eyes, unmoving, so he gently took the cup from her and put it down next to his own seat. And he’d thought he’d had a problem drinking too much. It seemed whenever Nanami was anxious, she turned to sake. It was another bad habit she’d picked up from the brothel, he thought with a grimace. 

Picking up a bowl of rice, he leaned in her space, then pressed a bite to her lips. “Eat.”

Obediently, she parted her lips and accepted the rice. For a minute, they said nothing as he fed her. It likely wouldn’t do much good since she’d already downed two cups of sake; it only occurred to her then that there was no remedy for sobering up or for hangovers in this world. Dammit, she’d gotten careless, she thought, eyes huge.

“Oh, my god, I’m sorry,” she said around her mouthful of rice. This earned her a sideways look. Quickly, she covered her mouth with a hand. “I forgot that I can’t sober up like I did at the brothel. We don’t have that remedy.”

“No, we do not.” Tomoe held the bowl out to her, and once she took it, he sat back. “How do you feel? Are you tipsy?”

She blinked. Truthfully, her head did feel a little foggy, her thoughts slowed, but it could’ve been worse. So she continued eating, turning her attention to the stew he’d so painstakingly made. “Yeah, a little.” It would probably get worse. “Sorry. I’m used to being able to drink.”

It had been over a year, he thought with a sigh. But he supposed she hadn’t had reason to get drunk in a while. After all, until recently, she’d seemed settled and relatively happy, apart from the occasional stress over something that’d happened in her past. That had been difficult to shoulder, but luckily, she was a strong and resilient person. Mostly because of her past, he thought grimly. She’d told him everything about her family and what it was like growing up, and it seemed that she’d had so many bad things happen in her life that it’d made it easier for her to brush off the trauma she’d faced. At least, for a time.

It didn’t mean she was okay. And a part of him wondered if she’d locked it up inside so far and for so long that she didn’t even know how it affected her now. When he considered everything she’d endured over the years, he wondered if perhaps bodily injury wasn’t the only thing she worried about.

“You said you are not so worried about dying in childbirth, correct?” Tomoe put a bite of food in his mouth, eyes locked on hers. “Does it still scare you?”

“A little,” she admitted, dropping her gaze to her bowl. “But not like before. Before I was terrified…” 

She stopped herself there, struggling to find the words. And she realized that this life she’d worked so hard to build, this goal she and Tomoe had aligned on, still felt like it was no more than one of her daydreams, elusive and unattainable. Every time she reached for it, it brushed her fingertips, just far enough away that she knew she’d never grasp it. Something would go wrong, something would happen, someone would destroy it or take it away—  

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt, her throat closing up. She was still terrified, she realized. But why?  

For a long moment, she was silent, trying to make sense of why her heart raced, why her body locked up. When they’d only been talking about it for the far future, when it hadn’t been real to her yet, she’d been calm, had even anticipated it. But now that the moment was upon them, the thought brought tears to her eyes. And she couldn’t explain why.

The look on her face told Tomoe something was still very wrong. A frown lit on his brow. It seemed he’d been correct. How deep her fear went, he couldn’t say, but they needed to talk about it. “Nanami, is there something else bothering you? About having children?”

She snapped her eyes up to his, brow creased and head tense. “I...I’m not sure,” she admitted. It was only thanks to the alcohol that her tongue felt so loose, that the words spilled so easily. “I’m scared, but I don’t know why. If everyone thinks I’ll be fine, then why do I feel this way?” Here, she laughed and shook her head. “Maybe it’s just...I don’t feel responsible enough. And I don’t feel motherly enough. I mean, I have other dreams too, and that makes it seem impossible to juggle it all, even with your help. So I feel inadequate, I guess.”

Even with his help. He didn’t understand what the problem was, because they’d talked about this before and had agreed on how to split the duties. The fact she kept looping on it made him wonder if he could ever assure her enough.

Resting his chin in his palm, he said, “I have told you that you may continue working and start the school. You will be able to go back to work after bearing our children. I have also told you that I will care for the children until you get home, and then you take over. That was the agreement, was it not?”

“Yeah, I know that’s what we said.” She put more food in her mouth, stalling for time. She had no clue what else to say to him about it. He was right, she thought. This should’ve been the end of that conversation.

“So then what is the problem? If we are both putting in equal effort with the children, how are you not motherly enough? And if you are still able to work, how are you not able to balance both?” He sipped his tea, humming. “Do you not trust that I can do it? Because it seems to me you are trying to do it all on your own, even if you say you are not.”

Was she really? Nanami flicked a glance up at him. Originally, she meant to turn her gaze down again, but when she caught the look in his eyes, she found she couldn’t break away. Instead of something disappointed, she found something soft, faraway, pained. And she wondered — how could she reply to something like that?

After a moment passed and she failed to reply, he continued. “I don’t understand,” he said, tone edged. “I have told you many times how I want to support you and your dream. I have given you space. So why can you not lean on me?”

“I’m trying…” Nanami stopped there, faltering. She didn’t know how to answer him. Not when she didn’t understand her own feelings. She could feel his frustration growing and, with it, her own.

A short silence elapsed. Seeing that she still had nothing to say, Tomoe exhaled all at once. He gave her another beat to respond, but she didn’t. The furrow of her brow, the way she stared at him, halting and frozen, told him she had no idea what she thought. Still, he tried to prompt her.

“Nanami.” His tone was gentler now. “If there is something bothering you, you know you can talk to me. I would prefer that you did.” He studied her. “Unless you do not know what it is that bothers you, but if that is so — then say it.”

Feebly, she nodded. “I know,” she finally said. “I would tell you. But you’re right — I don’t understand it myself.” A sad smile scrawled across her mouth. “It shouldn’t be an issue anymore. We’ve worked out the details. I don’t know why, but when we talk about it…my body just suddenly locks up.” She hung her head, her eyes shutting. “I want to do this, Tomoe. I know it seems like I don’t, but I really do.”

“Perhaps you are simply not ready,” he said, studying her. She kept her head low. “But I have a feeling it is more than that.” 

His gaze remained affixed to her, but she only murmured a ‘maybe’ and kept her eyes on her lap. No, he thought with a small frown, she rebuffed all his attempts to find a solution. This went far deeper than readiness.

He continued. “You seem to have a hard time accepting my help.” Here, he paused, and a few beats passed with no comment from her end. So he expanded on that. “You resisted my help before, when you were at the brothel. And it stresses me, because in these moments, I see how you cannot pull yourself to your feet. Yet you are so reluctant to lean on me, and I do not understand…” His expression fell. “Caring for you is the only thing I can do. It leaves me at a loss when you don’t let me.”

Meek, she nodded, her mouth dry. “I know. Doing things for me is how you show you care. I haven’t forgotten. It’s just important that I’m able to take care of these things too.”

“Of course.” They were going in circles, he thought, pressing his lips together. As much as he didn’t want to start a fight, she left him no choice but to be blunt. “While I admire your independent spirit, I am worried your pride will get in the way of child rearing. This is something we should do together. It is as important to me as it is to you.” He tilted his head, trying to read her face, but all he saw was the slightest flutter of her closed eyelids, the slightest quiver of her lips. “Is that it? Are you having a hard time giving up control?”

At first, she wanted to snap at him, and she lifted her head suddenly, eyes flashing and sharp. But then she caught the sincere depth in his eyes, the tense creases on his forehead and around his mouth, and she deflated. It was a legitimate question, she thought with a grimace. 

Rubbing one of her upper arms, she turned her head to the side, humming, brow furrowed. His question about giving up control grated on her, made her feel like someone rubbed her insides with sandpaper, and she found herself internally digging her heels in every time she thought about it. Giving up control to him; giving in to him.

Perhaps she’d promised on their wedding day that she’d open herself to him, but right now, she was beginning to think that hadn’t been the case at all. Letting him do anything these days, even preparing meals, made her want to scramble to the front and intercept him. She always had that knee-jerk urge to stick her head into whatever he was doing, to provide support, to help. She’d always considered that her way of being equal, but now that he’d asked to shoulder the same responsibilities as her in shifts, she found herself encompassed with that same prickly feeling. That same clench in her stomach. That same flare of heat that rose to her head.

She realized then — she didn’t want him to do it.

Her heart sank. Cheeks still flushed, that tight feeling knotted in her chest, she said, “I’ve been doing this for a while, huh? Not giving up control?”

Sullen, he nodded. He’d turned a blind eye to it because now that she was safe, it hadn’t mattered. But her stubbornness had reared its ugly head. And he was beginning to see it had nothing to do with body issues or fear or responsibility at all.

It was fear of giving up responsibility. Specifically, to him.

His ears perked up and tilted forward, his eyes half lidding. “Why do you have trouble delegating? I have not done anything untrustworthy.” At least, he didn’t think he had.

“It’s not you. I wouldn’t like depending on anyone — being in a situation where you’re helpless,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the blanket. A light breeze rustled the boughs above them, and a few petals fluttered down, drifting to rest in the empty space between them. She found her eyes fixated on his hands. “You never know what will happen. If you’re not ready for it, if you get caught off guard, then you could be screwed —” She cut herself off, shaking her head and frowning.

This was exactly her reasoning for staying at the brothel even after she’d become betrothed to him, he thought. But she didn’t have to live like that anymore. “I understand, but I have given you as much room as I am capable of giving. This is not acceptable to me anymore. Not if we are to have children. You understand why, right?” 

Here, she nodded, but the pout remained on her mouth.

The pressure built, and if he wasn’t careful, he had a feeling he’d erupt. He didn’t give her a chance to protest, but that look on her face didn’t help matters. “You already know it, but I will say it aloud — to rely on one parent presents the exact same problem for a child. If something happens to that parent, then the child is screwed. You cannot put all your eggs in one basket. That goes not only for child rearing, but for our partnership as well.”

He paused, watching her, but she only picked a stray petal from the surface of her tea. Her non-reaction sparked fresh annoyance in him, and he huffed through his nose, his tail thrashing. As his temper eroded, his care with his words did too.

“Did we not say we would lean on each other? Perhaps independence was fine in the beginning, but we are at a point in our lives and our marriage that we must lean on each other — to some degree. It is not good to strain against it and force independence. We have to live together. And if we have children, we have to work together as a team. It is not just you or me anymore.”

“I don’t need a lecture,” Nanami snapped, another flare of irritation rising inside of her. “That’s all I hear all day. Everyone tells me crap like ‘a woman needs a dependable husband’ or ‘a wife’s responsibility is to raise a man’s children.’ It’s always about how I need to lean on you to provide for me and that I should let you make all the decisions. Like I’m lesser than the children. No more than a dog at your feet—” Realizing she was taking it out on him, she froze, mouth open and eyes widening. Her heart thrashed violently, hands shaking, and she drew in a deep breath. Then, she buried her face in her hands and moaned into them. “I’m sorry. It’s not about you. You haven’t done anything.”

His tail whipped from one side to another, his ears laid back against his head. What had he done to earn this onslaught? It seemed she’d caught herself, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d snapped at him. “Why must you blame me for what other people say? I was not lecturing you. I was expressing my frustration.” His tail flicked sharply, to the point the muscles at the tip of it twinged. “That does tell me one thing, however — it is about lack of control. For whatever reason, this is triggering to you. Is this why you do not want to have children?”

“I do want to have them!” she insisted.

As she panted softly, the heat gradually dissipated once again. He wasn’t yelling at her or pressuring her. Instead, he scowled and drank his tea, his tail thrashing from one side to the other. He was pissed, she thought, mouth dry. But he wasn’t taking it out on her. Meanwhile, she was acting like a brat and attacking him. 

Face hot, she said, “Look, you’re right — I don’t want to give up any control. The thought of someone else doing something for me makes me mad. It stresses me out. I don’t like it, because I don’t want to get used to it. I don’t like to think someone’s just doing it this one time, and then when I get comfortable, I find out that I let my guard down and now it’s just...it’s gone.”

His brow wrinkled. “What are you talking about? What do you mean when you say it’s gone?” His tail swayed, no longer snapping so vigorously. “You are speaking so vaguely I cannot understand. I wish you would be more forthright about what you want.”  

What did she mean? She frowned, a punctuated exhale leaving her. “I just...don’t want to be stuck in a situation where something happens to you and I’ve been relying on you too much. Even if it’s to take care of the baby.”

“What?” Tomoe’s ears perked up. “I do not understand. How are you relying on me too much if I am cooking and cleaning?” She was hardly making sense, he thought. And she acted like if he did anything, it was too much. Exasperated, he added, “I need a purpose too.”

“I mean if I work too much, I won’t bond with our baby. I won’t know what to do — how to manage — on my own. So I can’t let that happen. To ever be in a situation where something happens, and I need you.” Her muscles grew taut, stretched and vibrating, tension building behind her eyes. She forced it back, although her voice was strained. “I have to be strong and make sure I don’t get caught off guard. I have to be prepared for anything.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “And why would anything happen to me? The gods are no longer after me. No one knows that I am here, and no one in the village knows I am not human. We are safe now.”

“That doesn’t guarantee anything!” She looked him in the eye, heart thudding, adrenaline rushing to her head and making her dizzy. “Don’t you see? Something could happen to you, or...or you’d change your mind.” By now, her mind was a tumbling mess of thoughts, this avalanche of emotion that this conversation had loosened until it flooded over her entire being with so much force it was hard to comprehend.

His brow furrowed even deeper. “I’d change my mind? What would I possibly change my mind about?”  

The longer this went on, the more his muscles ached from the tension. It had been one thing to understand her knee-jerk reactions when it came to her experiences from the brothel, but this behavior… This was becoming a pattern. And it was far more personal.

“Why can’t you trust me?” he growled, his ears pinning back against his head. “I have told you I want this. I have told you I will stay. You have evidence that this is the case. And I am so frustrated that you doubt my words so!” He panted openly. It was so hard to control himself. “Tell me what I don’t understand. We have had this conversation a hundred times—”

“I do trust you! It’s just that a baby changes a lot. It changes everything,” she cried out. “We wouldn’t be like this anymore. It’d be hard.”

“My feelings for you would not change,” he said bluntly. “Perhaps our lives would change, and perhaps it would be hard sometimes, but that is why we have each other.” He’d thought they’d learned this lesson by now — that relying on each other had been acknowledged, but she seemed to have backslid. “I stand by what I said — that our marriage is stable. We can give a child a good home with two parents and support and affection.”

Here, he stopped, watching her for any sign that she’d accepted his words. But she only fidgeted, her shoulders rigid, her breaths rattling. She didn’t seem to be listening, he thought, disgruntled. Or, if she was, she wasn’t considering the meaning of his words. 

Deciding to prompt her, he asked, “Tell me — is change like that so bad?”

Her eyes snapped up to his, her lips pressed so firmly together it was painful. She went on autopilot, because her brain was shutting down, yet he expected a response now. “How can you say that with such confidence? Do we know any of that for sure?”

“I don’t understand how you don’t see it!” he snapped, his attempts to remain calm failing once again. “Why on earth would this be so disastrous?”

When he shouted at her like that, his eyes spearing her with such heat, something inside her cracked. It exploded out of her suddenly, before she could even process it. “Because I don’t want my child to have the life I had!”

The words hung in the air for a long moment, electric and shaken and screamed. She panted for breath, heart thudding, head spinning. Her entire face felt impossibly hot, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But he didn’t yell in return. Actually, his brow furrowed, and then something mournful filled his gaze.

This wasn’t about him at all, he realized. Any irritation he’d felt began to evaporate. His tail stilled and dropped to the ground, wrapping around his hip. “Nanami, is that it? Does having a child make you think about your own childhood? About your own parents?”

Slowly, it dawned on her why she’d thrown him off the last time they’d tried to have sex. If she died, her child would grow up without a mother. And if that happened, then her child would only have his or her father to rely on. While she’d seen Tomoe as reliable, the thought of leaving her child behind with only one parent — with only a father — seized up something so far inside of her that she couldn’t breathe.

If something happened — if he got hurt, if he changed his mind — her child would be defenseless and alone.

“I want to trust you,” she found herself saying just above a whisper, hiding her eyes in her hands, her cheeks hot against her fingers, her tears spilling down the tender skin. “But I’m so afraid.” A tiny cry escaped her, and she felt herself crumbling. “I was so alone. And I might not have survived. I don’t want my child to be abandoned and face hardship like that.”

Although his own stress levels remained elevated, now that the true reason had come out into the open, he found himself cooling down. Perhaps some connection was in order. Moving the cups and bowls out of the way, he crawled across the blanket to her. Then, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. She curled into herself, but the moment he touched her, a hiccup caught in her throat.

“We are not your parents,” he said, running his long fingers through her bangs, his brow furrowed. “You know I am not like your father. Have I not proven myself?” To think of her viewing him as her father crushed his chest in. Surely, she knew him better than that by now.

Nodding, she replied, “You have! I know you’d be a good father. But I can’t help the way my body reacts when I think about it. I lock up and I want to push you away. It makes me want to work harder. To hold my own head up high. To take on all the duties on my own.” She drew in a hitching breath. “I feel so horrible for treating you this way. I know you’re not that kind of person.”

“Well, I am glad you recognize that because it is not fair to be punished for another’s mistakes.” Then, taking in her miserable expression, he sighed, relenting. Arguing would get them nowhere. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his forehead to hers and said, “I know you have been hurt by the very person who should have been there for you. It may take time for you to get past this. Perhaps it will not be until we have had children. But do not let it hold you back in life. At the very least, let it go for your own sake.”

She stared into his eyes and, gradually, she began to calm down. The way he stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs and gazed at her with so much tenderness brought a wash of soothing relief over her. A residual sob wracked her frame, but she leaned into his touch. He was so kind, she thought.

She nuzzled into his palm and shut her eyes. “Thank you, Tomoe,” she whispered.

The heat from her cheeks radiated into his palms, and he released a cross between a hum and a sigh. His ears lowered. “I want you to feel safe with me,” he continued. “I know it may be hard for you to trust a man again — especially to care for you — but will you try to lean on me more?”

If nothing else, shouldn’t she lean on him for their future children’s sake? She sniffed, then opened her eyes, gazing at the gentle glow of his foxfire rippling over the surface of the stream. Tomoe was good to her, she thought. He’d given her space. What he asked wasn’t unreasonable. No matter how her chest clenched, she knew he was right. If she wanted to pursue her dreams and give their children a stable home life, she needed to count on him to help. 

After a long moment of him stroking her cheeks, her tears dried and she nodded. “I’ll try,” she agreed, voice soft. “Just please understand this isn’t easy for me. I’m going to struggle and I won’t always be able to let you take over.”

He nuzzled against her bangs, shutting his eyes as well. “I am not asking to take over. I am asking that you let me care for you while you are vulnerable. That you let me be your partner.” He exhaled into her hair. “And I want you to be my partner in return. What I want is for us to help each other. That is all.”

That was what they’d vowed to each other on their wedding day, she thought. Perhaps she’d lost sight of it in her anxiety. But he was right — he wasn’t her father. Once again, she reminded herself that he’d been there even in situations where most people would’ve left. He could be jealous, and he could want her all to himself, but he’d never cramped her or controlled her. He’d always been so understanding, so respectful.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling back to look at him, expression mournful. “It wasn’t you or anything you did. I guess I was thinking too much of my own childhood. I’d never want anyone to go through that.”

“It was painful for you.” Tomoe caressed her cheek, offering a sad smile. “It will be all right. I swear to you that I will never leave. I will love and care for our children as much as you do. Try to remember that I want to have cubs with you.”

Slowly, she nodded, gazing up at him in awe. This sentiment was foreign to her. The way he talked about their future children compared to the way her father had talked about her was like night and day. And this was a perspective she struggled to grasp.

It was the first time she admitted out loud: “I don’t think my father ever wanted me.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Why else would he leave me behind?”

“Nanami…” Tomoe stroked tender fingers through her bangs, tucking them back. “It was not you. It was never anything you did.” Eyes fluttering shut, he pressed a slow kiss to her forehead. “I will always be here, my love. Even when you are old and grey, I will be by your side.”

Although she came close to protesting he wouldn’t feel that way when she did age, she stopped. Ayakashi were different. They never stopped loving, and she’d seen that firsthand.

“Thank you.” It was all she could think of to say.

For a beat, they were silent as he touched his lips to hers. She returned the slight pressure, and then pulled back, exhaling shakily against his mouth. Being so close to him, staring so deeply into his eyes, made her think — if trusting him didn’t come naturally to her, then she needed to choose to trust him.  

Now that she recognized what bothered her, she could accept it wasn’t about him. Her memories of her own childhood were fuzzy, warped with time, but she remembered enough. Her father had never been home. He’d never worked — losing job after job. When she’d worked in his stead, he’d found her money no matter where she’d hidden it, had spent every last yen they’d had on alcohol and pachinko parlors, never once contributing to the household or caring if she could eat or not.

Tomoe was the opposite, she thought. He was always home. He was consistent. She knew when she returned each day that he’d be waiting for her with a home-cooked meal, that their house would be neat and tidy, that their savings would be untouched except for what he needed to buy supplies.

That meant their children would never go hungry. Would never be alone. Just like he was always there for her and ensured her belly was full, he would do the same for the rest of their family. He was a dependable man. One look around their property was enough to see that. He’d built their home out of nothing, and he was one of the most hardworking people she’d ever known, taking great pride in his meticulous attention to detail. That knowledge eased her fluttering stomach, her muscles relaxing.

She should trust him.

After a long moment of thought, where he only ran his hands over her back, she found her voice. “I want to try again one day. Maybe not today, but it’s still something I want. I mean it.”

Her cryptic words left his heart in his mouth. “Try to…?”

“To have a baby with you.” She stroked the insides of his wrists, noting his hesitant expression. Given how vehement she’d been a moment ago, she wondered if he didn’t know how to respond. “I know I’ve said it before, so I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me.” Here, she uttered a humorless laugh. “And…” She paused, lips parted. It hit her at once, like the impact of the ground after having fallen from a great height. “I’m making it hard for you to trust me, aren’t I?”

Before she could go on a tirade, he took her chin between a finger and a thumb and forced her to lift her head. “You have not broken my trust,” he murmured. “You did not realize your feelings. But we have figured it out and reconciled, have we not?” Her eyes shone, reflecting the multi-colored light of his foxfire. “Then what is the problem? I am capable of understanding your fears.”

A lump came to her throat, and she nodded. “I’m glad, but I don't want to keep jerking you around. It’s not fair to you.” She sucked in a breath, the sound hitched and sloppy. “But you’re right — you’re the opposite of my father. You’ve always taken such good care of me, so it makes no sense to think you wouldn’t do the same to our kids.” Her eyes slid to the side. “I guess it’s hard for me to think about — what would happen if I died and they were still young.”

A pang streaked through his chest, and he embraced her tightly, resting his chin over her shoulder. “Dearest Nanami, if that happens, I will honor your wishes in their upbringing and love them with every last fiber of my being. I will give them a good life. They will always have a home in my arms.” He squeezed her, nuzzling the side of her head. “I swear to you — they will be safe with me.”

Laughing despite the few tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, sheer relief flooding over her, she said, “Thank you. I want to give our kids a better life.”

“Then will you trust me to care for them?”

“Yeah.” She laughed again, two tears rolling down her cheeks until they ceased.

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Then we will give them a better life than either of us had.”

She nodded and, finally, smiled as well. This time, when they pulled back, she was the one who kissed him. And she didn’t let go.

Chapter Text

After calming down, Nanami and Tomoe finished eating while she sobered up. Luckily, she hadn’t drunk enough for it to make her sick, and her anxiety hadn’t lasted beyond their conversation. Being with him made her feel like nothing could ever go wrong again; besides, the night was too beautiful not to relax. Soon enough, they’d fallen into a much lighter conversation, putting aside any talk about children or the past, instead focusing on the present, the future. By the time another hour and a half had passed, Nanami felt completely at ease.

Now they’d fallen in a lull, although the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Tomoe took a sip of sake, watching Nanami sit with her legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, her hands behind her back and resting on the blanket. Her eyes were closed, a serene expression on her face. She looked so beautiful, he thought, feeling like the breath had been knocked out of him. And he ached to touch her, to shower her with affection, to show his love for her.

Hearing from her that she still desired the same things he did had renewed his confidence — and his faith. While he’d never doubted their marriage could pull through, he had to admit that her behavior lately had concerned him. Yet tonight she seemed to be more herself than she’d been in weeks. Finally, it felt like they were putting the past behind them.

Perhaps she wasn’t ready for cubs yet, but it didn’t stop his mind from drifting to fantasies of her form under his, her voice crying out for him, encouraging him, receiving him. All he wanted was to become one with her, to create a new life with her that was solely their own. No one else would ever share in that — mating was reserved for each other, and their children would be a testament of their love, their loyalty.

It was all he could do to transform this deep yearning, to channel it into the passion he felt for her. Because at the end of the day, mating was more than filling her belly with his seed. He wanted to be with her, to comfort himself in that physicality, that evidence that they were stronger than they had ever been. And so his feelings got the better of him, and he gave in.

“Nanami,” he murmured, and her eyes fluttered open. “I would like to be amorous with you.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d expressed his desire for her recently, and though they’d had such a heavy conversation earlier, she felt much lighter now. She wouldn’t mind giving him a blowjob, she thought, sitting up straighter. “I’d like that too,” she said, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “Do you want to kiss me, or do you want me to go down on you?”

His ears flicked back. This wouldn’t do. It was like she’d reverted to pleasing, to behaving as though he was her client and she was giving him what he wanted. But that wasn’t his intent. After all, he was sure she was keyed up, especially since she’d seemed more focused on satisfying him than herself recently.

“If you do not want me too, then I don’t want it,” he said, tone clipped. This brought her surprised gaze up to him. “You have not taken for yourself. And I would like you to enjoy pleasure too.”

Her cheeks flushed with heat. It was true that she’d forgone her own pleasure at times, denying his offers to reciprocate after she’d finished him with her mouth and tongue, but she hadn’t thought it was that big of a deal. “R-right.”

He tilted his head, waiting for her to finish her statement. But she didn’t. Wondering if she wasn’t in the mood, he prompted, “If you would prefer not to, then say so. I am not sure why you no longer hold desire for me, but if it is because you fear heat will make me lose control, then it will not.” His face fell, gaze soft. “I will not press you, but I would like you to give me the chance.”

“It’s not like that! I don’t think you’d lose control,” she insisted, mouth tugging at the corners. “Besides, I really enjoy being with you.” Here, her gaze dropped to her lap. “I just worried I’d ruined everything. I know you said I hadn’t, but I was afraid to have sex and find out that I had.”

Quickly, he drank the rest of his sake before setting his cup aside. When she talked like that, he couldn’t refrain from touching her, even in a small way. Crawling closer, he caught her face in his hands, and she lifted her eyes to look at him. “I have told you that you have not,” he said, brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I am not asking you to lay with me. If you will even let me return the favor — to go down on you — then I will show you that not all is lost.”

She swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in her throat. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw the sincerity there, and she recalled the words she’d told him just before they’d gotten married. That she didn’t want to lose her sexuality. Perhaps the circumstances were different now, but she didn’t want to lose this connection she had with him. Pleasing him was only half of the equation. She missed her husband.

Bumping her forehead to his, she said just above a whisper, “I miss it. I just don’t know if it’ll have the same vibe, you know? I don’t want it to be just because I want to get off or something. I don’t want it to be just because it feels good. I miss you. And I want to feel connected.”

“Ah. So you are saying you want romance,” he said, his eyes half lidding. When she nodded, something tender melted in his chest. “Then let us try. I will show you my love for you, even if it is in this act.”

Although they’d performed oral on each other many times before, it had always been with passion, with need. There was no doubt in her mind that he loved her, even in these moments, but it was hard to imagine that it’d hold the same weight as making love, body to body. Still, she wanted to believe him when he said not all was lost. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. It didn’t mean they couldn’t switch to another act, like they had on their wedding night, when he’d spooned her and touched her to completion.

“Okay,” she agreed. “We can try it.”

Given how indecisive she’d been lately, he asked, “And you are sure? You would truly like to do this as well?” He nudged her nose with his.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” A smile flickered over her mouth, wan and thin and tinged with the nostalgia of a time that might be long gone. They could try, but they might not get it back. She hoped beyond hope that she was wrong.

“All right.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

Now that he had her assurance, he tilted his head, leaning closer. Without hesitation, he touched his lips to hers. It was soft, sweet, light, and it pulled a sigh from her, the warm puff of her breath tickling his cheek. When she returned the gentle pressure, he relaxed.

For a moment, they traded a languid, featherlight kiss. Their mouths worked together slowly, lips brushing each other in sensual unison, breaths mingling and falling shallowly on each other’s cheeks. His fingertips stroked the tender skin of her cheek, and Nanami’s heart began to pound. Something inside her unfurled and awakened, something she’d anxiously held at arms’ length. But the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, broke down the barriers she’d put up.

While they hadn’t shied away from kissing each other, it had been quite some time since she’d returned passion for passion, her body giving way to his touches, her breaths falling a little heavier. He could smell it on her — the first hints of longing, of arousal — and it made him want to bury his face between her legs, to drink her in, to breathe her aroma to its fullest.

His body responded, heart racing, his fingers drifting along her jaw and throat. The images flashed through his mind — of how it would feel to push her to the ground, to take her wantonly. He had to use every ounce of self-control to swallow it back, knowing he must keep his word and show her nothing had been ruined, but he could only withhold so much. Desperate to taste more of her, he ran his tongue over her lips, hoping for a sign he could take this further.

He wasn’t a pushy man, she thought as his tongue glided over her lower lip. Time and time again, he’d shown her consideration, had given her space. After the conversation they’d shared tonight, she felt that weight lift from her. It made it easier to see that this wasn’t ruined, that she wasn’t broken, that there was no resentment between them. In the past, her wishes and needs and fears had been brushed aside if not ignored, and yet he’d heard her out with compassion and honesty. He wouldn’t force her to concede to his own desires, she thought. He never had. And she found herself melting, sinking into the secure hold of the strong arm that encircled her.

As her muscles unwound, Tomoe sighed through his nose, his body easing, melding with hers. Good, she had warmed up. Still, he wanted to be sure the mood was right. So he pulled away, using the backs of his fingers to brush her bangs from her eyes. His claws grazed her skin but didn’t break it. 

“I love you,” he murmured, his nose bumping her cheek. Shutting his eyes, he nuzzled her.

The way he spoke to her, the way he touched her, left her weak all over. Her heart pounded harder, and she smiled, her arms draping around his neck, wrists loose and crossed. “I love you too.”

This time, she was the one to initiate the kiss. She captured his lower lip between hers, applying more pressure than before. She squeezed her eyes shut, aware of the blood rushing in her ears, her body encompassed in slight tremors. He knew just when to say those three words, she thought, pressing closer to him. And she had to admit, she was more aroused than she’d thought she’d be.

All at once, pleasure surged in Tomoe’s veins, his eyes opening just enough to look at her. The eagerness in how she kissed him reminded him of the times before she’d closed herself off to him, when they’d touched each other without restraint. A part of him had wondered if she’d ever be so desperate for him again.

Now he found his pulse quickening, his need increasing. A tiny growl vibrated in his throat, heat flooding him until he broke into a light sweat. He nipped at her lower lip, the tip of her tongue, anything within immediate reach. It was only when he sucked on her lip and the slightest hint of iron infiltrated his senses that he realized what he was doing. Gentle, he had to be gentle.

He collected himself in the form of a slow, deep breath. Then he released her lip, one hand cradling her cheek. Carefully, he sealed his mouth to hers. After a short pause, she returned his kiss, deeper and deeper by the second. The fact she wasn’t put off by his lapse in judgment relaxed him.

Something about that bite had ignited fire within her. It reminded her of the times that they’d taken each other without care, raw and unbridled, fueled by attraction and lust and a desire to fit their bodies as close together as physically possible. The tension below her navel grew, and she deepened that slow and steady kiss until she felt like she was drowning.

Gradually, the need to breathe overtook her, and she slowed the kiss to a stop. As they parted, she breathed heavily against his lips, her face hot. His fingertips trailed over her blushing cheek, the touch sending shivers down her spine. By now, she could hardly contain herself, overcome by excitement, anticipation, nervousness. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, the sensation like wings beating against the walls of her insides.

Her pupils blew wider and her scent bloomed. It made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, his own body reacting, urging him to continue. She wanted him, he thought, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone. Yet as eager as he was, it wasn’t enough for it to be mutual yet unspoken. 

In low tones, he murmured, “Would you like for me to go down on you?” He paused, gauging her reaction, watching her eyes flick up to his. The blues and purples of his foxfire reflected in those dark eyes like the stars in the sky, knocking the breath out of him.

Her mouth went dry. He was painfully beautiful, she thought, caressing his cheek, drawing a thumb over his lips. In response, he gingerly bit down on the digit, then kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers. An ache settled between her legs, centering at her clit, and she exhaled.

“Yeah,” she admitted with a slight grin.

His own lips twitched in a smile, and he stroked the back of her hand. When he felt like this, when she reciprocated every ounce of his desire, he could barely contain his anticipation. And while it would’ve made more sense to return to the house, it felt so far away right now, in a different world. He didn’t want to risk a drop in the mood simply by changing settings, yet he wanted to be mindful of her comfort.

“Is it too cool for you outside?” he asked.

He wanted to have sex in their backyard, she thought, struggling not to giggle. It was a little chilly, but she supposed she wouldn’t last long anyway. Besides, the thought of trudging towards the house when her need was so great seemed like such a hassle.

“I think I’ll be okay if we leave our clothes on part of the way.” She kissed the tip of his ear, grinning as it flicked. Then, deciding to tease him a bit, she leaned closer, whispering, “I don’t think I can wait to go inside anyway.”

Relief washed over him. They were on the same page. “You want me that badly too?” He smiled, but his hands were already at the sash of her kimono, working it open.

“Yes,” she breathed, chest heaving. His mouth found her throat, and she hummed, one hand falling to his back, ghosting over his spine. She tilted her chin, eyes shutting, heart racing as his teeth grazed her pulse. “Do you…want me to do something for you too?”

A low chuckle left him, his tail swaying. “Of course,” he murmured.

He drew his tongue up the length of her throat, relishing the salty flavor that had risen to her skin, her excitement and anticipation tingling in his senses. It only heightened his own attention, until he was keenly aware of every twitch of her body, every shifting scent, every variation of her breath. Despite that primal call from the depths of his mind, he centered himself. There was plenty of time for his own satisfaction. For now, he would taste her.

Eyes glittering in the ambient light, he purred, “I would like for you to have your fill of pleasure first.”

The look in his eyes, so mesmerizing and seductive, made it impossible to tear her gaze away. Absentmindedly, she swept a hand down his chest and torso, eliciting a shiver from him. The words fell from her lips before she could reconsider them.

“I’d like that,” she said just above a whisper.

“Good.” He drew a thumb over her lower lip before bringing it to his mouth, swiping his tongue over his claw, smiling wryly. 

Unable to help it, she giggled. Something about his expression made it easy to fall into that dynamic they’d created long ago, reminding her that this didn’t have to be serious, that they could have fun. She reacted in turn, biting her lip, shooting him a playful glance. 

That must’ve been all the invitation he needed, because his hands found the front of her kimono. Nimbly, he parted her clothing, movements quick and a little rough, until he exposed her to the open air. Immediately, goosebumps prickled over her skin and, within a few seconds, her nipples hardened. Despite the chill, she didn’t want to move, instead relishing the heat of his mouth as he reattached it to her throat, followed by the warmth of his bare skin as she undid the front of his kimono as well.

Gently, he pushed her onto her back, planting his hands on either side of her. She stared up at him, her lips parted and eyes wide open, the lights reflecting in them and making her glow. Like a goddess of fertility, he found himself thinking, a surge of hormones spiking inside of him.

It felt like thousands of years of wild instinct spurred him on, his body burning alive and begging to lower himself on top of her, to take his wife and make her his. But he resisted, instead ducking his head down to press a kiss to her sternum. He inched down her body, settling between her legs, kissing each rib on the way. Every so often, he swiped his tongue over a sensitive spot, grinning at the hitches of her breath and the whimpers he pulled from her. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, and her hands found the hair behind his ears, grasping it.

At this gesture, he stifled a groan of his own. No matter how the sounds she made enticed him, no matter how her tug at his ears or her scent made him feel, he wouldn’t give in to that innate call. Because knowing he could make her feel this good, that they could connect as husband and wife, that they could still love each other so fiercely meant much more.

Sparks of pleasure rippled through her as he kissed and nibbled at her nipples. He pulled on one, followed by the other, teasing them to perfection. Panting, she rubbed the area behind his ears, further goosebumps rising at the sound of his soft moans. Now he mouthed at her breasts, one at a time, and she felt like her heart would beat out of her chest. She ached, desperate for more contact, and she bucked her hips up.

“Impatient, are we?” he said with a chuckle. “Relax. I will attend to you.” He pressed two last kisses by her nipples, and then continued to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses down her torso.

By the time he reached her stomach, she was squirming, digging her nails into the soft fur at the base of his ears. The pinch at his cartilage must’ve been a little painful, because it drew a small grunt from him. But he didn’t tell her to stop, instead thrashing his tail in that way he did whenever she made him feel good, scraping his fangs against the hollows of her hips. The following growl confirmed her suspicions — she’d just turned him on even more. And yet, despite the quiver of his ears and his harsh breaths falling against her sensitive skin, his sole focus remained on her body.

She dug her teeth into her lower lip, again thrusting up, the tension bubbling in her pelvis. His tongue glided over one hip bone, and then he found the fragile skin of her inner thigh. Another bite. He followed it with a bruising suck, the kind that sent tingles up and down her spine, the kind that marked her as his. She couldn’t stand it.

“T-Tomoe, please,” she panted, her weight shifting to her heels, her knees drawn up and spread.

The scent of her arousal hit him anew, rendering him near delirious with instinct. Her begging only intensified his need, and he buried his mouth and nose in the coarse hair between her legs, where he drew in her fragrance, her pheromones making his tail arch in anticipation. She was already wet.  

Clutching her thighs, claws pricking her skin, he pressed a kiss just above her clit. Her knees jerked, a whimper escaping her. So he nosed a little lower, and when he brushed his lips to the hot, sensitive skin there, the exhale he drew from her was explosive. Just this in itself was ecstasy, he thought, savoring her natural taste.

Settling in, he flicked his tongue over her clit. Her body quaked, her hands twisting in his hair, red hot pleasure streaking through her body. Then he latched on, and he sucked, and the ache at her entrance screamed to be alleviated. She wanted to be penetrated. But she swallowed the pleas back, instead focusing on each delicious suck at her clit, the blood pulsing between her legs and making her feel hotter and hotter. Her body undulated, back arching, breasts peaked in the air. The temperature no longer bothered her, because the heat that migrated from him had encompassed her whole.

“Ngh, Tomoe,” she moaned, scratching his scalp as her hands slipped. “I’m getting so wet.”

He paused his sucking to draw his tongue over her, his tail swishing. “That you are, my love,” he purred. He nosed into her hair again and worked his tongue between her folds, tasting her wetness, delighting in her need. It aroused him all the more, and he grinded against the blanket, desperate for relief. Her taste drove him wild.

Her quivering thighs locked around his head, her hips bucking. She swept her hands through his hair before tugging at it, and when he gave her a good, long suck, her legs jolted. It was only as he licked her again with fervor that he recalled — she’d wanted romance. But at this rate, they’d ravish each other. As much as his body demanded that, he had to admit that he also wanted a softer connection. If he wanted to show her his love transcended nature itself, then they needed to refocus.

He grounded himself in the moment and slowed his movements. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, watching her pant for him with an open mouth, her eyes half lidded and hazy. He could still smell her, that scent that all but made him lose his senses, and yet he lost himself in her dark gaze. Beyond that animal desire lay such tenderness and trust, her eyes telling him she saw him and only him. And he only saw her.

For a moment, they only stared at each other, their breaths stifled and quick. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air. No words exchanged between them, but her hand loosened in his hair, just as his grip slackened at her thighs. The understanding had been mutual.  

Carefully, eyes never leaving hers, he sealed his mouth over her in a deep kiss, working his tongue into her entrance the best he could. But he took his time now, each touch and each caress delicate and intentional. Gradually, he fell into a slower rhythm.

Small smacking sounds met her ears as he kissed her between the legs. The atmosphere had shifted, and as she stared into his eyes, she realized what it was — he meant to make love to her. It was a little strange, because even he hadn’t made love to her with his tongue before, and yet the way he stared at her like she was the only person in all the worlds made her feel like putty in his hands. She softened her own touch, stroking his head and ears, doing her best not to pull on them. He deserved that same gentleness.

He continued to mouth at her, humming a bit for her pleasure, knowing the vibrations would aid in her relief. At the same time, he worked her entrance with his tongue, each lick as firm as he could manage, to the point his mouth cramped. Yet he continued, teasing her clit with his upper lip, his kisses fervent, giving attention to every part of her anatomy, massaging even her labia and folds. 

It seemed to be working, because she gasped his name, fingers twitching in his hair, legs clamping around his head. Just seeing the woman he loved like that — beautiful and transcendent — was enough to make him forget about his own heat. At least, a little.

All her doubts about whether or not this could be romantic flew from her mind. While he couldn’t talk to her, his eyes were full of love, soft and adoring. Each stroke of his tongue, each brush of his lips, was filled with tenderness, with affection. He mouthed at her like he would kiss her lips, like he’d attend to every inch of her body in their moments of greatest passion. She was his world. And he was hers. 

Maybe it wasn’t the same as having every inch of their bodies pressed together, skin to skin and equal, but this intimacy… It hit at another level. Staring into his eyes made all the difference.

Although he was getting tired, the act more strenuous than usual thanks in part to stifling his own need, he refused to stop. Not until he’d given her an orgasm. He ran his hands over her inner thighs, stroking her skin, touch featherlight. At the same time, he grazed his claws over her legs, pleased at the way she trembled. Even in the outdoors, he could hear the tiny sounds she made, picking them up over the gentle run of water beside them. He was driving her crazy, he thought, the corners of his mouth twitching, his eyes dancing in amusement. And she, in turn, intensified his own hunger. He couldn’t wait to bask in her touch, to do more than to give — but to take.

His palms ran over her legs, his touch sensual, slow. Tingles of pleasure from that action melded with the sensations his mouth provided, enhancing them. She moaned softly, rocking in minuscule thrusts, those waves growing stronger. He ran circles over one of her thighs, his other hand creeping to her hip. Those fingers traced patterns there, gradually making their way to her navel, where he fondled her belly. He caressed the area just over her womb, she realized, her breath hitching. It was a subtle signal, but one nonetheless. And the affection behind his touch made her melt.

Using the pad of his thumb, he traced the tendon at the junction of her pelvis and her thigh. With his other hand, he carefully massaged her belly, below her navel, unable to help himself. How desperately he wanted her to carry his cubs. But if she didn’t want that, he’d simply keep his fantasies to himself, swallowing back the need that flared within him. Listening to the sounds she made, he once again grounded himself in the moment, pushing all other thoughts of the future from his mind the best he could.

As she whimpered again, her hands brushing over his ears, he mouthed at her more insistently. He extended his arm, sweeping his hand up her torso, finding her breast. Her hand covered his, pressing it close to her heart, letting him feel it flutter like a newly fledged bird beneath his palm. She drew a deep breath and shuddered, slipping the tips of her fingers between his. Once more, her hips bucked into his mouth.

Even though she had hold of his right hand, he decided to further please her, to indulge his need to be one with her, even in a small way. So he withdrew the claws on his left hand and slipped two fingers inside of her, finding her slick, her muscles relaxed. He continued to kiss her, pressing his fingers to her inner wall, massaging it in firm, slow mini circles. It was all too easy to imagine how those walls felt around his erection, how wonderful it would be to mark her so deeply inside. He groaned, sheathing his fingers as far inside of her as possible.

Her head tossed back, mouth falling open in a moan, her nails cutting into his scalp and her other hand clutching his, flattening her breast beneath their combined touch. Humming, he sucked on her folds, his thumb brushing the inside of her breast. He could feel her coming apart under his touch. And he found his own patience waning.

Now she couldn’t stop her moans. They came one after another, her body jerking, her hips thrusting with each surge of pleasure up her spine. It was warm, almost hot, tightening and releasing the muscles in her thighs and abdomen with each one. Her chest heaved at the wet heat of his mouth, at the depth which his fingers penetrated her, reaching her very core. Those fingers filled her to near perfection; the only thing that felt better was when his length was inside of her, connecting them, unifying them as one. But he continued to gaze at her with nothing but the love spoken in his eyes, the foxfire flickering in them like makeshift stars. He only saw her. And she only saw him.

He worked his fingers in slight movements. He rubbed the deepest spot inside of her that afforded pleasure, pressing up towards her navel, her whimpers morphing to soft cries. Pride rose inside of him as he felt her shake beneath him, a thin sheen of sweat sticking his palm to her skin. He kissed her clit again and again, his lips adhering to and parting from the sensitive flesh with smacking sounds, the friction sending tingles down his own spine. Burying his mouth there, he lapped at the erect bud, the heat between her legs overpowering him, her wetness coating his fingers all the way to the knuckle, dripping from her entrance.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, voice wavering, her whole body quaking. “Oh, gods.” She tossed her head to the side, whimpering, her breathing heavy and ragged. “Deeper.”

Although that wasn’t possible, he compensated by working her harder, applying pressure to her inner wall. She cried out, her head whipping to the other side, her hair coming out of its arrangement, disheveled. This sight was one to behold, and he found his control unraveling. The romantic atmosphere cracked, his fantasies going wild. 

Between wet kisses and glides of his tongue over her clit, he murmured, “Pretend it is my cock. And that I am making love to you.”

Just saying that aloud was nearly his undoing. A surge of primal need licked hotly at his insides. He wanted to be inside of her — so far inside he was at her womb. He swallowed back his moan, fingering her more quickly.

“Yes,” she whispered, grasping his hair. “I can feel your cock so deep inside me.” She gulped air, keening when he massaged that spot far within her.

Her muscles tensed more frequently now, and he felt them contract a few times. “Are you going to come?” he said just above a whisper, continuing to kiss that sensitive bud, to peek his tongue out and graze it. Inwardly, he begged for her to come, because he felt like he might explode if she didn’t touch him in turn.

“Yes, mmm. ” She grinded against his mouth, and he accepted it, capturing her clit between his upper lip and tongue, swiping it with delicious pressure. “Ugh, Tomoe, do that again.”

Obediently, he followed her instruction. Each time, he sucked gingerly, then pulled off her clit, tugging the skin that covered it. Her cries grew louder, and her heart thudded into his palm, as though trying to break free. He gripped her breast, her hardened nipple brushing his hand, the tension in his lower half so tight he felt like he might burst if he didn’t heed it. Unable to help it, he rutted against the blanket, imagining what it’d be like to penetrate her in this moment, to feel her body beneath his own.

To sate this need, he worked her core with his fingers more insistently. He explored her, appreciating the way those silky walls hugged his fingers so snugly, her wetness increasing. Knowing she felt so good, that she was so turned on, only served to heighten his desperation. He humped the blanket, out of breath. A second later, he latched onto her clit, sucking it with abandon, drawing a choked scream from her.

The pleasure he gifted her reached blinding peaks. Her hips rocked, and she couldn’t stop it, her focus split between every part of her body that he touched and teased. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open when she felt her vision fading to white, and yet she stared past those speckles of sparks into his violet stare, losing herself to something ethereal and otherworldly and bewitching. Her thighs tensed, her breath sucked in through parted lips, and then he pressed against her inner wall as far as he could reach, and she was gone.

“Tomoe!” she cried out, clutching his hand to her breast, grasping the hair at the base of his ear. 

She lifted her hips off the blanket, throbbing strongly around his fingers, the pleasure electric as it raced up and down her legs. He continued to suck and kiss her clit, his breath puffing into the hair at her mound, adding to the sensations. The whole time, she gasped variations of ah and his name, rocking on his fingers, wriggling her hips. As her pulsations faded, her movements waned, until she relaxed against the blanket, breaths falling harsh and loud, heart pounding.

Nothing had been more alluring than the sight of his wife in the midst of her greatest pleasure. It drew moans from him, making it difficult to continue his sucking and licking. His desperation was so strong he felt faint, almost outside of himself, unable to stop himself from grinding against the blanket until it came close to chafing him. His only saving grace was the end of her finale.

Now that she was finished, it took everything in his power not to pounce her. Breathing shakily, he pressed a few slow kisses to her folds and the area above her clit. He needed to calm down, he thought. So he pumped his fingers in several more slow, affectionate movements while he caught his breath, while he gained his bearings. 

After gifting each of her thighs a kiss, he withdrew his fingers and lifted his head. He couldn’t deny himself one last luxury. Locking eyes with her, he put his fingers in his mouth, sucking them, finishing by licking them from top to bottom.

Although it wasn’t within her window, the taste of his mate still spurred him on. An involuntary moan left him, muffled by his fingers, and he sucked them more greedily. He swore her cheeks turned pinker, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness, and her expression momentarily snapped him out of his thoughts, eliciting a chuckle from him. He smiled, sitting up, ears relaxed and serene.

“It seems you needed that,” he mused.

Now that she was finished, the sweat that had risen to her skin evaporated quickly, and a shiver ran through her. Quickly, she sat up and folded her kimono over herself, watching his eyes flick over her body. She tightened her sash and released a sigh. “Yeah,” she admitted with a smile of her own. “I did. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Leaning in, he stole a quick kiss, and she giggled, nipping at his lower lip. His patience wore thin, but since she was susceptible and the temperature had dropped even further, he proposed, “Why don’t we go inside? I would not want you to catch a cold—”

Out of nowhere, she grabbed his shoulders, shoving him to the ground. His eyes blew wide, his mouth hanging open, and he looked so stunned she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Lowering her head, she bumped her forehead to his. “Someone hasn’t gotten his,” she teased, tapping his nose playfully. “Besides, it’s really romantic out here. I’d like to stay outside.”

No matter how fragile humans were, when she giggled and straddled his hips like that, he felt like his brains had scrambled, losing all capacity to think like a rational person. He sucked in a breath, a hand flying to his mouth. Even the insides of his ears felt warm, his entire body lighting up like he’d been struck by lightning, her weight just where he needed it. His other hand fluttered to her hip, his focus locked on her pelvis against his. 

Please, he inwardly begged, his erection painfully hard. He wanted nothing more than to tear her kimono up to her thighs, to impale her with his length. His hands shook uncontrollably.

“Oh, someone’s excited,” she teased, grinning. She rocked her hips once, giving him a little stimulation through their clothing. His choked breath was worth it.

“Nanami…” he said, tone strained.

She didn’t seem to realize what she did to him. It was a good sign that she teased him after having been hesitant for so long, but if she didn’t stop… His exhale shuddered in his chest, his nails cutting into the fabric of her kimono. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

“I know, I know,” she insisted.

Much to his chagrin, she climbed off of him. And yet it was a good thing she had. No matter how much he’d known it wouldn’t happen, a part of him had hoped anyway; a part of him had been so close to propositioning her for more than they’d bargained for. He shot her a pleading glance. Thankfully, she parted his clothing, exposing him to the open air, giving him a bit of relief.

Her eyes swept over his body, appreciating his physique, his lean muscle, his defined hip bones. Finally, her eyes settled on his thick length, which pressed against his waist. Impressive how much he’d held back, she thought.

“You have a lot of self-control,” she mused, lying between his legs, her face level with his erection. She wrapped her hand around the base of it, giving the tip a kiss.

A sound of near anguish left him, a painful shock racing up his spine. And in response? She laughed. His ears laid back against his head, the tip of his tail twitching, but she ignored it. Instead, she swirled her tongue around the head of his erection, her eyes glittering and trained on him, so full of warmth his body went to putty and he sagged into the blankets.

“I couldn’t help but tease you a little, but don’t worry. I’m going to be sweet,” she assured him, stroking the base of his erection a few times. “We wanted this to be romantic, right? So I’ll do my best.” She beamed at him.

A breathy moan left him, his spine arching, his heart pounding. Despite the waves of pleasure that crashed inside of him, her words carried such tenderness that a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. He raked his fingers through her bangs, then trailed them over her heated cheek and jaw. She was blushing, he realized, smile growing. 

“No need to be shy. Take me,” he purred, the tip of his tail twitching. Inside, however, he all but begged.

She shot him a near smirk, her eyes narrowed. She’d already teased him enough, she decided. Since he’d done such a good job pleasing her, she made herself comfortable, brushing her lips to the underside of his erection.

A sharp spike of pleasure drove up his spine, every muscle from his ears to his tail stiffening, and he swallowed a loud moan. His hands found her head, fingers sinking into the strands of her silky hair. Her dark eyes flicked up to him, a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth, and her touch eased. 

Her lips grazed a trail of ginger kisses along the underside of his erection, from the tip to the base. At the same time, she fondled his length with caressing hands, making him all the more rigid. He rolled his hips up, the action inadvertent, a groan dying in his throat.

“My sweet fox,” she murmured, brushing her thumb up the underside of his length. She followed it with a slow, wet kiss to the tip. “I love you.”

As much as he was desperate for relief, when she looked at him like that, his heart soared, his feelings overpowering him. With another kiss, she had him melting in every way possible, caught between feeling weak in the knees and over the moon for her. He pulled the hair stick from her hair, letting the strands tumble loose around her cheeks and shoulders. When she made a small noise of protest, he slipped his claws through her hair and kept it out of her face, his palms at her cheeks.

“I enjoy playing with your hair,” he reminded her with a faint smile.

She returned his smile, heart fluttering. “Yeah, I know.” 

His thumb brushed over her cheek, so she turned her head and kissed the heel of his hand, nuzzling into his palm. Upon realizing she was neglecting him, she curled her fingers around his erection and ran her hand up and down it, keeping her hold light, loose. The resulting shudder shook his body, visible, and she released a breathless laugh. Still grinning, she nuzzled into the hair at the base of his erection, then lower still and kissed his balls. Tender fingertips followed her lips, stroking his balls, touching him as though he were made of precious glass.

“I hope I’m not teasing you too much,” she whispered, and kissed the base of his length, this time with a wet, open mouth. “I’m not trying to. I want to show you how much I love you.”

He exhaled, ears twitching, toes curling. Although it was almost too much, whimpers dying in the back of his throat, what made it worth the sexual frustration was how she touched him with so much love behind each action. This wasn’t something that should be hurried, nor did he want her simply to deep throat him. Because when he looked down at her lovely eyes shining just for him, when he saw those pink lips gracing his length with kisses, he was full of adoration until he thought he might burst.

“No, it is good,” he breathed, rolling his hips up to meet her, a hum lining his words. His chest hitched, and he writhed, his eyelids fluttering, his fingertips finding her chin. “I love you…dearly.”

As he traced her jawline with a forefinger, she smiled so brightly that she rivaled the luminosity of his foxfire. And while she didn’t respond with words, when she pulled him into her mouth, he felt her fervor burning for him. His back arched, and he groaned, panting.

“Mm, yes, like that,” he purred.

Normally, she might pull off a few times, tease the slit with her tongue, drip dirty words from her lips just for his benefit. However, this time, she bobbed her head with languid strokes, her tongue cradling the underside. She ran her tongue over his length as though she were kissing him, returning his affections from earlier. Shuddering pleasantly, he cupped her cheek in one hand, his other slipping further in her hair, threading through the strands.

Relaxing her throat, she took him deeper. Instead of playing with his balls, she stroked the inside of his thigh, running slow circles over it, much like he’d done to her. Her other hand remained wrapped around the base of his erection, gliding up and down it in gentle motions. His moans grew more frequent, deep and low in his chest. It assured her, and she sank further on his erection, humming in the back of her throat.

By now, she’d taken him deeper than he’d anticipated, and it left his feet jerking, his tail tensing. Her hand slid over his entire thigh now, all the way to his knee and then back to his hip, the sensation of bare skin against skin eliciting tingles and goosebumps. When she reached the tip of his erection, she hummed again, wrapping her lips around it, giving it a slow and sloppy kiss. Once more, she took him fully in her mouth, making her way down, sinking inch by inch, her breaths puffing heatedly against his waist. 

He could hardly bear it. For weeks, she’d sated him with her hands, her mouth, her skilled tongue, and yet now that she matched his enthusiasm, he still found himself wanting more. To be buried inside of her, to take her completely, to share pleasure on equal ground… It made it much more difficult to remain in this moment. He stroked her hair, digging his teeth in his lower lip, anchoring himself to the here and the now instead of losing himself to those fantasies.

As she worked him, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the extent of their sex life from now on. The thought made her a little sad, but his gentle touch at her head and her cheek grounded her, comforting her. He didn’t mind, she thought. Perhaps it wasn’t ideal, but if they could still touch each other like this, if they could still showcase their love and devotion even through this act, then maybe they’d be all right.

Sometimes, after what she’d been through, it was still hard to believe this was enough for a man.

The weight of his hand left her head. A sudden touch came to her knuckles, and she glanced to find he’d laid his hand over hers. His fingers slipped between hers, his hold loose, and she couldn’t help but melt, sliding her fingers further between his, squeezing them. After a beat, he returned the pressure, and when she met his eyes, he was gazing at her with such adoration it knocked the breath out of her. She had to pull off his length, panting against it, making up for the loss by running her hand up and down it.

Just her breath was enough to make his body jolt, his erection so sensitive from her teasing. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek, letting their clasped hands rest on his thigh. A breathless chuckle left him, and he couldn’t resist. “What? Is it too big?”

Here, she shot him a glare, but she couldn’t help the way her mouth twitched with the smile she tried to suppress. “No.” She swept her tongue over the tip before letting her expression relax into a grin at his strangled breath. “It’s just…the way you look at me.”

“Oh?” He tucked the shorter strands of hair framing her face behind her ear, breathing heavily.

She hummed in affirmation, but didn’t pursue the topic. Instead, she nuzzled against the base of his erection and kissed it. Panting through her nose, she peppered his entire length with kisses, until she had him squirming, humming in his throat. Then, she wrapped her lips around the head of his erection and sank down again, this time with more suction.

Potent, blinding pleasure flashed through his body. “Oh, gods,” he gasped, tensing, his heart pounding. He couldn’t help but grip a fistful of her hair, hands trembling. Her hold on his hand tightened, and she met his eyes, her own gaze half-lidded and soft.

She pulled off of his length with a small popping sound, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “Love you,” she whispered, kissing his erection.

He swallowed back his sound of enjoyment. “I love you too.”

They exchanged a smile, and then Nanami lapped at the head of his erection, a sensation like lightning shooting down his spine. Tension expanded at his balls, and he dug his feet into the blanket, breaths shallow and rattling. He watched her face as her eyes fell shut, her brow knit in passion, her lips forging a slow, wet trail down the underside of his length. As soon as she reached the base, she swiped a gentle tongue just above his balls and kissed them. Hot waves swelled within him, unbridled moans leaving him. And when she opened her mouth wide and took him all the way to the back of her throat, he saw stars.

She began to hum and moan, the sounds muted yet providing him the kind of vibrations that made his ears quiver and his tail twitch involuntarily. He was in so deep. Her mouth was wet, silky, soft, and he found himself becoming one with her in a way he’d never expected. They were unified, even in this way. It took all his self-control to grip her hand and not her hair, instead running his fingers through the strands, occasionally grazing his claws over her scalp. As much as he wanted this to last forever, he could feel that tell-tale balloon of pressure at the base of his erection and his balls. He couldn’t even breathe.

Reading his body, noticing the tendons in his thighs growing taut, she realized how close he was. She stroked the back of his hand, hoping to communicate that he could let go, that he could finish if he so desired. His breaths had morphed from short gasps to stillness, and when she flicked her eyes up to his face, she found his ears lowered sideways, his fangs digging into his lower lip. The blue and purple flickering light of his foxfire reflected off the sheen of sweat across his chest, and she realized — he was about to come.

There was no more holding back. He couldn’t do it. One more sweep of her tongue, one more suck that encompassed his whole length, and the tension reached a bursting point. A shuddering moan left him, his mouth falling open entirely, and her ethereal form faded out as he spurted his seed over her tongue. Behind his closed eyelids, visions colored his perception — visions of coming deep inside her body, of reaching her womb, of making cubs with her. 

Despite growing so sensitive he could hardly bear it, her allowed her to continue, to suck him, to stroke the base of his erection — and all for the sake of savoring just a few more fleeting images of mating with his wife. It only lasted a few blissful seconds before he was spent, and then he sagged into the blankets, his gasps sharp and quick, blood rushing in his ears. Slowly, he drifted back to the present, albeit with a private wistfulness. Even so, the heat inside of him had abated just enough to provide relief.

Now that he was done, his fingers and toes twitching from the aftershocks, Nanami pulled off of his length slowly. She swallowed what he’d released into her mouth before gingerly cleaning the residue along the slit with her tongue. A whine escaped him, his hips jerking, so she finished and inched up his body. There, she fell to the ground beside him, lying on her side, running a soothing hand over his chest and stomach.

“Feel better?” she asked, kissing his cheek.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. He continued to pant, attempting to catch his breath. Reaching up, he touched tender fingertips to her cheek, his eyes halfway opening, an almost dreamy smile on his mouth. “Thank you, Nanami.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

He put two fingers beneath her chin, pulling her closer and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes closed, and when she sighed, he swallowed it. Slipping her hands to his head, she held him in place, mouthing at him with delicate kisses, her fingers sinking into the velvet fur at the base of his ears.

For a moment, they lay side by side, Nanami bending over him with her hair hanging in his face, her lips moving over his. Occasionally, he peeked his tongue out to swipe over her lips, tasting her, tasting traces of himself. Perhaps he would’ve continued to kiss her, to drown in this affection, had he not felt several sharp tremors wrack her frame. And when she sucked in a breath, her teeth clicking once, he realized — she was cold.

Breaking the kiss, he stared into her eyes, nudging her nose with his own. “It is time to go inside. You are trembling.”

Now that the heat between them had died down and the night had settled in, the combination of the evening chill and the dewfall had her shivering. That was why she laughed instead of protesting. “Okay, I am kinda cold,” she admitted. She pecked the tip of his nose and got to her feet with some effort. Holding out her hand, she told him, “Come inside with me?”

“Only if it is to take a bath.” He flashed her a grin, showing all his fangs, his tail swishing.

“Yeah, of course,” she said with a smile. When he took her hand, she squeezed it. “But we should clean up this mess first.”

As he stood, Tomoe glanced at the various plates and bowls scattered over the blankets. “I suppose we must,” he agreed.

Stooping down, she gathered her share of the mess, stacking the plates and bowls. Once he’d finished doing the same, she caught his eye. “Thank you so much for tonight,” she said. “I really needed this. All of it. It was so romantic.” She swallowed past the lump that rose in her throat. “You’re such a wonderful partner, Tomoe. I’m so lucky.”

A warm smile flickered over his lips. “You are most welcome. I feel very lucky to have such a sweet wife.” He kissed the top of her head. “I promise it will all be just fine.”

With another smile, she nodded. As he led the way, she followed him to the house. If anything, tonight had proven to her that she didn’t have so much to worry about. They would be there for each other, and they could still share their love for each other no matter what changed. It assured her that she hadn’t messed things up as badly as she’d thought she had. And so she determined to enjoy the rest of her evening with him and push her fears aside.

Chapter Text

After a luxurious bath with Tomoe, complete with the two of them washing and massaging each other, they went to bed sated and relaxed, curling up in cozy bliss. Nanami slept hard that night, almost dreamlessly, and when she awoke the following morning, she felt oddly energized. It was amazing how much better she felt, she thought, turning her head to look at Tomoe’s face, studying the way his long lashes graced his cheekbones, how his lips parted to allow for gentle breaths. All this time, she’d been carrying such a heavy weight in her chest, and she hadn’t even known it. Yet letting Tomoe bear some of that weight was so alleviating she felt like she could float away.

Perhaps he felt the same way, because he remained asleep, lying on his side and facing her. Even when she brushed a hand through his hair, he didn’t do more than flick an ear, the action involuntary. A smile played on her mouth, and she leaned in to kiss the space between his lips and nose. But he didn’t so much as stir. She should let him rest, she decided.

With that in mind, she hoisted herself out of bed and got dressed. Briefly, she found herself wistful for the days of cell phones, because she would’ve loved to have texted Hana and told her she’d be late that morning and not to worry. It would’ve been nice to spend some extra time with Tomoe, she thought, pausing in the doorway to watch his sleeping figure before she headed out to tend to the chickens.

Their flock was small, so it took little time at all to care for them and gather the eggs that had been laid that morning. She put them in a basket and then wandered inside, where she knelt by the hearth to start a fire. The whole time, Tomoe continued to sleep, burrowed deep in the covers. It gave her enough time to make him a cup of tea as well as some eggs and rice, and then she decided to wake him.

Gingerly peeling the covers from his chin, she leaned in and kissed his mouth. “Good morning,” she called, her smile bleeding into her tone. A tiny noise escaped him, and his eyelids twitched. Right before she thought she’d have to call for him again, his eyelids fluttered open, his rounded pupils constricting as they adjusted to the early morning light. “Time to get up. I made you breakfast.”

Groggy, he sat up, stifling a yawn. “You are up before I am?”

“Yeah, weird, right?” She giggled, then grabbed his hands, tugging at them. “Come on, Tomoe, before the eggs get cold!”

A smile flickered over his mouth. “Well, we cannot have cold eggs,” he agreed, getting to his feet. He followed her across the room to their seating area, and then he made himself comfortable on a cushion. Glancing at their plates, he said, “Ah, you have made your rolled omelette.”

“It’s not my invention! I told you it’s common where I came from,” she insisted, passing him a pair of chopsticks. “It’s too bad cheese isn’t really a thing here.”

“You say that every time we have the rolled omelette,” Tomoe said, plucking a piece with his chopsticks. Then, realizing he had forgotten in his half asleep state, he met her eyes and said, “Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” She popped a roll of omelette in her mouth.

As they ate, Tomoe observed her, noticing how she seemed much more cheerful than she’d been lately. It was like she was back to her old self. “You seem to be feeling better,” he pointed out between bites. “I am glad to see you like this again. You have been so stressed.”

“Yeah, I have been,” she admitted, touching her chopsticks to her lips. “I didn’t realize just how much of that was still bothering me. Y’know, the whole stuff with my father.” She smiled wanly. “I’m really glad you talked to me about it last night. It helped a lot.”

“Good, I am glad.” He sipped his tea, observing her rosy cheeks and her half-lidded gaze. 

For a moment, the two of them were quiet, lost in thought. Tomoe’s mind fixated on the night before, on her comments about how she’d like to try to have a baby with him someday. The only problem with someday was that it wasn’t definitive, and while he could’ve waited for her to come to him, he didn’t know what was acceptable now that they’d solved the mystery. For all he knew, she was open to discussing her plans. He decided to try.

“Nanami,” he began, drawing her gaze up, “there is something else I must ask.” When she murmured a ‘ yeah?’ followed by a questioning gaze, he continued. “Now that we have established what has been bothering you, I would like to know — what would you like to do next? You said you would like more time before having cubs, but I am not sure how long you mean.”

A small, dry laugh left her. “I can’t give you an exact answer on when, but I promise — it’s not going to take years or anything.”

“I see.” He hummed, bringing his cup to his mouth again. Then: “I am sure it will take you some time to sort through your feelings, but what do you want to do in the meantime? Because I do not know what to expect.”

“What I want to do in the meantime?” she echoed, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you had other dreams for the future too.” He studied her face, holding his cup of tea in both hands. “Truthfully, I wondered if you would use this time differently, since you are not ready for cubs yet,” he replied, his eyes locked with hers. “I wondered if you would pursue your dream of opening a school.”

She blinked. “Well…I haven’t thought about it a lot since we last talked.”

“I know, but I am curious about what your instinct says,” Tomoe replied, resting his chin on the back of his hand. His gaze softened. “I would like to know what you want for your future in the near term. Because I cannot say, and it is difficult to plan my own life without knowing.”

Maybe she did still have some things to work out, she thought with a slight grimace, bringing her teacup to her mouth. After all, she’d thought she’d been ready, but perhaps using this time of reflection to get answers regarding her other dreams was a good idea. She took a drink, mulling it over.

“I don’t want to discount what you want or anything—” she began.

“I am not asking about me. You already know what I would like from the future.” He studied her, gaze even. “I would like to know what you want in the next few weeks or months.”

“Well…” She rubbed the back of her hair, then set her cup down. “I’m not saying I don’t want to have children, because I still want to. I never stopped wanting to! I think I just need time to process what we talked about. That’s all.” She stared down at her hands, aware of his gaze on her from her peripheral vision. “But you’re right — it’d be good to understand what this all means for the school, since that’s still something I want to do.”

“Yes,” he agreed, rubbing his chin. While he wouldn’t say he was stepping down per se, there was no harm in giving her a little more space to consider her desires. “I would like for us both to be in control of our lives. Perhaps more time will give you the opportunity to do that.” 

As he sipped his tea, she couldn’t help but think about the way he’d phrased it — about it being her opportunity, not theirs. Did that mean he felt like he wasn’t in control of his own life? After all, he had to wait on her to make a decision. In the meantime, he floated aimlessly, unable to make strides towards his own goals. He’d told her in the garden that he needed to have a purpose too, and yet they hadn’t set a definitive timeline on having a baby. That left her wondering how he’d find fulfillment while she sought her own answers. With all the support he gave her, she realized she needed to offer the same support in return.

“What will you do?” she asked. “If I’m following my dreams, what will you do to follow yours? I don’t want you to feel like your hands are tied and you can’t do anything.”

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “I hardly feel that way. I will continue to make our home a comfortable place,” he replied. “There is much to do before we have children, is there not? Clothes must be sewn, vegetables must be cultivated, and I must learn more about how to care for a child. Watching a neighbor’s son for a day hardly prepares me for the task.”

“Really? So you won’t feel like you’re stuck with no say or anything?” she asked.

“No, these are all things that must be done anyway. I have plenty to occupy me,” he assured her.

A shuddering sigh of relief left her, and a smile spread over her face. “I’m so glad to hear that. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a purpose. You need to have one.”

“Of course,” he murmured, lifting his cup to his mouth.

She continued. “I know it’s tough for you to wait a little longer. I feel like I’ve just gotten my feet under me, you know? And I think if I got a chance to lay the groundwork for the school, I’d feel a lot more in control. I think, if I feel like that, I can give you a better answer.”

“True. I suppose we have not been here that long.” Then, a bit sheepish, he admitted, “I cannot relate to how time moves for a human. I assumed it was longer for you than it was.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” She brought her cup to her mouth, smiling softly. “I get it. It’s not like people wait years and years to have children after they get married. But after everything I’ve been through in my life…it hasn’t felt like that long. I’ve never gotten to live for myself, you know.”

Sobered, Tomoe dropped his gaze to the surface of his tea, nodding slowly. As she’d told him before, her childhood and young adulthood had been spent in survival mode. She’d been able to go to school to support her dreams, yet it had never worked out for her in her timeframe. Every day had been filled with uncertainty, with fighting for her life, with scrounging for money to pay off her debts and hope there was enough left over to eat. Based on what he knew, this was the first time in her life she’d ever had a sense of stability, a sense of steering her own ship.

Having children would complicate things. The moment they had children, she’d no longer be living for herself. It was likely that she’d put herself last, like she often had over the course of her lifetime. It made him wonder if that was what was happening here, if she only wanted to appease him, to cater to his wants — and not her needs.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are the cubs your choice too? You are not only agreeing for my sake?” Something sad entered his eyes, clouding his vision in tones of grey.

“Of course they are!” she sputtered, sitting up straighter. She’d unleashed too much of her guilt onto him recently, she realized, watching him stare at nothing in particular. “I’ve always loved kids. I’ve always wanted to be around them. That’s why I majored in childhood education.”

“From what you have said, teaching is not a round the clock position. So I imagine it would feel different to have a child of your own,” he replied, resting his chin on his hand again. “Perhaps you like children, but when you say such things — apologizing for not giving me what I want — it makes me worry that you do not want this as much as I do.”

Her stomach sank, her face falling. “Tomoe…”

Here, his brow furrowed, something soft in his eyes. When he spoke again, his tone was gentler, quiet, wistful. “This is a decision I would like for us both to be excited about. And equally so.”

He misunderstood, she thought. But it wasn’t surprising, given how she’d been acting up until now. She dropped her gaze to the floor for a moment, hands clasped in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I didn’t mean that I couldn’t do it, or that I was only doing it for you. It’s for me too.”

As she finished speaking, she brought her eyes up to his, her gaze so clear and earnest, until he felt he could see into the depths of her heart. After all the heartache and the tears and the work they’d done the last few days, confessing and showcasing all the soft parts of their bodies, he saw it — that she told the truth. And he trusted her.

His muscles unwound. He exhaled a long, steady stream of air, his ears relaxing. “I am glad to hear that.”

“Don’t worry.” She laid a hand on his forearm, offering a smile. “I promise it’ll happen.” In the meantime, however, perhaps she should take his suggestion. Given that he’d told her he didn’t know what to expect, she decided to be clear. “You asked me what I wanted for the near term, yeah?” A pause, and he nodded. “Well, I think I’ll take a few weeks to look into the school. That’s not too long to wait, is it?”

“No,” he replied, albeit hesitantly. A slight frown furrowed his brow. “But I don’t believe you should promise to have it sorted out in a few weeks.” After what he’d witnessed the night before, he didn’t think she’d be ready as quickly as she seemed to think.

“Oh, no, I meant I’ll take some time to get information!” She waved her hands. “Then we can talk more about our future. For now, we can take it one day at a time.”

“Of course.” He sipped his tea.

“I’ll keep thinking about it,” she continued, picking at her rice. “In the meantime, I still want to do something for this community. Even if it’s small.”

Tomoe nodded slightly, his gaze unwavering. “Yes, it seems important for humans to help each other.”

“It is. And I think it’s so important to me because these kids don’t have much of a chance for better lives,” she explained. “Only nobles can afford tutors.” Here, her eyes softened, as though she stared through the atmosphere years into the past. “I remember how difficult it was for me when I first came to this era. I didn’t know how to do anything. And for girls, there’s no choice but to get married. It’s what Hana’s facing, you know?” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I wanted to kickstart something. Maybe I can’t change an entire country, maybe I shouldn’t change an entire country, but it’s not wrong to make our hometown a little better, right?”

“No, it is not,” he agreed. “Of course you are concerned about the girls. Look at how you have been treated.”

She nodded. “Yeah, exactly. Girls don’t get many opportunities. I don’t ever want anyone to fall into the same trap I did. I don’t want them to have to trade sex for food and a place to sleep. That was horrible.” The light faded from her eyes. “If I can stop it from happening to even one person, I can rest easier at night.”

“I see.” Tomoe fell silent again, thinking about it. 

This all tied back to her childhood trauma. Her need to be the village girls’ savior, her need to swoop in and intervene and rewrite her own story through someone else. It wasn’t like her intentions were bad, but it did make him second guess his own timeline. Not to mention — after what she’d divulged to him the night before, after she’d expressed her fears and wishes to him, he found himself agreeing that now wasn’t the right time to follow through with having children. There was still time, he told himself. Maybe not all the time in the world, but they still had time.

“I believe it is advantageous then if we wait for you to start the school,” he murmured.

She stopped, chopsticks hovering over her bowl of rice. “What do you mean?”

“I believe you will feel much better about starting a family afterward. Do you agree?” He tilted his head.

Briefly, she was silent, putting food in her mouth and chewing. Although she wasn’t ready to spread her legs and get knocked up right this instant, her feelings on the matter had shifted since she and Tomoe had been having these talks. This was really important to him, she thought. And he was willing to wait for her, to give her dreams precedence. He’d expressed it time and time again. Maybe it didn’t have to be an either or situation.

After swallowing the bite she’d taken, she set her bowl down. “I’d like to find out how much effort it’d be, but I’m not gonna say it has to come first. Having kids and having a job are two separate things, right?” She lifted her tea, supporting the bottom with one hand. “I just don’t want to be so busy I neglect our kids. That’s why I think finding out what I can do for the school and how much time it’ll take would be a good first step.”

“So…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I am not sure what this means.”

A breathless laugh left her, her cheeks flushing. “I guess that wasn’t very clear, huh?” In response, he shook his head. “What I mean is… If I decide I’m comfortable having kids with you tomorrow, then I’m happy to start trying. Even if I’m still looking into the school thing. I think…we can both have what we want, yeah?”

His ears perked up. “Yes, I believe so.”

“If we work together,” she added, to which he nodded. “And I think we’re really good at that. I mean, we’ve been running the business. We handle our personal lives pretty well. And whenever we face any kind of problem, we work through it together — even when it’s hard. So maybe it won’t be that much different.”

A smile spread over his face. “No, I do not believe having cubs will be as difficult as you think,” he agreed. “Take your time to get your bearings. We can have cubs when you are comfortable and ready.”

“Thank you.” Her smile grew, although it remained soft, affectionate. “We’ll support each other, you know? Your dreams are important to me too. I want you to be happy. I want you to have the things you want out of life too.”

His heart melted. Prior to Nanami, no one had ever cared as much about what he wanted. But now that he received her consideration on a daily basis, it made him feel safer than he ever had in his life. Unable to curb his feelings, he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth.

“You are very kind,” he said. “Thank you for thinking about me.” He brushed a hand over the top of her hair, regarding her with adoration in his eyes. “I am so very happy with you.” He kissed her again.

“Aw, Tomoe…” She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face, her entire chest flooded with warmth. “You make me really happy too. I’m glad we can talk earnestly about these things.”

“I am glad too.” They traded another kiss, holding it for a beat before parting. “You will worry Hana if you linger any more. I will take care of the clean up.”

Grinning, she bumped her nose against his, shutting her eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”

Right before she rose to prepare her departure, she tilted her head and kissed his lips one more time. Having a supportive partner made all the difference. She let herself think that perhaps they were finally on the same page.

—

Nanami spent the morning at the teahouse thinking about the last conversations she and Tomoe had had. It left her distracted, but she wanted to search her feelings. Despite her need to compartmentalize the pain her father had inflicted on her, she felt like she was ready to put her trust in Tomoe, like the act of bleeding out her pain in the form of words and tears had been enough. He’d been there, and he’d supported her through it all. Just like he always had. And she knew the same would be true when they had their children too. For once, her personhood wouldn’t be erased.

As for their mortality, death was a reality for everyone, and there was no controlling that. She could die tomorrow for all they knew. But she could trust Tomoe to step up and do what needed to be done. He’d always been stable in the past, and she couldn’t see that changing now, especially when he’d expressed how he planned to prepare for their new family life. Although he hadn’t let himself get excited per se, the anticipation was still there and very much so palpable.

Sometime that afternoon, she took a walk to clear her head and get some fresh air. She decided to use that time to run an errand by the pottery shop where she’d done her apprenticeship. After all, with the second flush coming shortly, she’d need new pots to store the tea. 

While she picked through the wares, she happened to hear voices approaching — and looked up to see two of the village women entering the shop. As they exchanged pleasantries, it occurred to her that these two women had school-aged children of their own. Maybe two people didn’t make an appropriate sample size to gauge interest in a school, and she wasn’t sure they’d be keen on the idea, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

“Hey,” Nanami said, drawing both women’s attention from each other. “I was thinking…your kids are all under ten, right?”

“Yes, but mine are quite a bit younger than that,” one of them named Ina agreed, her face suddenly drawn. 

Nanami couldn’t help but think — she looked exhausted. And while a school that admitted girls might seem like a foreign concept to her, she wondered if the prospect alleviating the pressures of raising so many children would make her more receptive to the idea. Cautiously, she probed for more information.

“You have five now that you’ve had the baby, right?” Here, Nanami glanced at the infant Ina held in her arms. “That’s got to be tough all on your own.”

“It is,” Ina agreed. “Chika is old enough to help out, but they’re still a handful.” Something like a grimace played on her mouth. “It’ll be nice when her brothers are old enough to help out on the farm.”

Nanami’s smile faltered. That wasn’t a great sign, she thought, recalling Tomoe’s warning that agriculture held primary importance. “Oh, right. Your farm’s bigger than mine, so it must be really hard for just you and your husband to manage.” That, and Tomoe was a yokai, which made it easier for him to keep up with the work, she thought.

“Yes, and it’s been a rough year. With the little ones around, I can’t help him in the fields,” Ina said with a sigh. “It’ll probably be that way for a while now that we have the new baby.”

“I’m surprised you manage at all,” the other woman, Tsuru, said. “Giving birth to so many children so quickly…”

“Oh, it wasn’t easy,” Ina agreed with a sage nod. “But you know how husbands are. It’s impossible to say no.”

While Tsuru responded to agree, Nanami’s mind flashed back to her days at the brothel, where she’d felt trapped, up against the wall, in desperate need to perform and earn money. Wasn’t it the same thing here? With so many children, it would be difficult for a woman like Ina to work, even on the farm. She doubted someone like her would want to hold a job outside of the home, but even if she had, it wasn’t an option for her. 

The thought made her stomach twist. This was why they needed help with the children, she thought. It would free up their time to help out with their family’s livelihood. And that afforded them more options in case something happened to the breadwinner, as these men viewed themselves.

Still, to think of a man ignoring his wife’s wishes, coaxing or coercing her to do something she didn’t want to do at her own detriment, was something she couldn’t ignore. Concern and anger tightened in her chest.

“You couldn’t say no? Even if you didn’t want to?” A frown furrowed Nanami’s brow.

There was a hesitant pause. Both women glanced at each other in silent communication, their eyes locked for a beat too long. Their postures stiffened, and Nanami realized she’d gone too far. Of course they didn’t understand. In this era, even wives weren’t given that sort of agency. Sometimes, they were no better off than prostitutes, she thought. Perhaps, in some situations, it was even worse. But that wasn’t her business — nor did they want it to be.

Even though her heart pounded from the adrenaline and her cheeks felt hot, she bowed her head slightly, mumbling, “Sorry, that was intrusive of me.”

Both women relaxed, though their brows remained creased. “Well, you should know how it is,” Ina pointed out. “You’re married too. A wife must please her husband — or he has every right to move along.”

It was all Nanami could do not to burst out that Tomoe would never do any of those things, that such a relationship was sexist at the best and abusive at the worst. She couldn’t help but think of the entitlement from the men at the brothel, how they’d complained about their own wives — if they had one — and how they’d assumed if not demanded pleasure from her, regardless of whether she enjoyed it or not. More times than not, no one had cared.  

She didn’t want to express what had happened to her. She was trying to put her past behind her. So instead, she murmured, “I get it. It’s wrong, but some men are like that.”

Perhaps she’d hit a sore spot, because Tsuru huffed. “Most, if not all, men are like that, but we need them, so it’s best to quietly endure it. That is a wife’s duty in the family.”

“Indeed,” Ina said with a nod. “The household comes first. Anything other than that is selfishness.”

Selfishness. Nanami wondered if that was how these women viewed her, and she clasped her hands in front of her thighs, clutching one in the other until her knuckles went white. Although Tomoe had assured her that everything was all right, although she felt they were back on track in their marriage and towards their future family, these women didn’t see that. And if all they saw was a selfish harpy of a woman who held her husband back and dishonored him, then she wasn’t sure they’d trust her enough to help.

But this wasn’t about them or what they thought of her. This was about the children. She couldn’t lose sight of that goal, no matter how difficult things got.

“I agree that family is important,” she said, scrambling to find common ground, to align with them, to show them that at the root of it they were on the same page. “And so are all our connections with each other. We need what each other can provide… I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”

Both women shot her puzzled looks. “What do you mean?” Tsuru asked. 

“I mean… It sounds like you’re both swamped. You don’t have a lot of support right now. You’re both only one person, but you have to juggle taking care of the house, your husband, the chores…and the kids. It’s a lot to ask of you to teach them everything they need to know when you’re trying to keep your head above water, you know?”

Again, the women stared at her, both frowning slightly. “I’m still not sure I understand,” Ina admitted. “That’s what we all do. It’s a part of having a family.”

Nanami felt her cheeks color. Although Ina hadn’t come out and said it, the message was clear — she was immature, selfish, and had no idea what she was talking about. It frustrated her to no end to be viewed like that, to be seen as an outsider even in her own hometown. She swallowed back the tightness in her throat and focused on the goal.

“I just think it’d be easier on everyone if there was someone who could help watch the kids,” Nanami said. “You could help out with your houses and farms, and the kids could socialize and get a more well-rounded education.”

“Education? What are you talking about?” Tsuru pressed.

She wasn’t being very clear, Nanami realized. But when these two women had already put up such a wall, their postures rigid as they stood side by side in a united front, it was difficult to break through. That made up her mind — she wouldn’t tiptoe anymore, no matter what manners dictated.

“I meant — what if we had a school, or a teacher?” Nanami paused, glancing from one woman to the other. They remained unmoved. “The kids could learn. Even the girls could learn — and that means they could help out more in whatever way you needed them to help out.” It was only because she wanted to speak the same language that she tacked on, “Like…if you didn’t have enough boys to help with the business. You know?”

“Well, we have plenty of boys,” Ina replied, tone edged. “I’m not sure what they could learn from a tutor that they couldn’t learn at home.”

Did they think she was implying they were bad mothers? Nanami’s heart leapt in her throat. “Oh, I’m sure they’re learning a lot at home! I just meant that I have some experience with my own business, so I could help them learn reading and writing and math.”

“I don’t see how that would help with the farm,” Ina said. “They can learn from experience — in the fields with their father.”

“I know, but I also know about growing plants. And about running a business too,” Nanami insisted. Seeing how neither woman seemed to have warmed up, she added, “Tomoe knows a lot about trade, so I’m sure he could give me some tips to pass on. That way, they could expand their options and sell more to traveling merchants.”

Here, Ina and Tsuru exchanged a glance. Tsuru shifted from one foot to the other, but didn’t say anything. The looks on their faces made Nanami’s stomach sink.

“Even the girls?” Tsuru asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, yeah…” Nanami replied. “What if they need the skills?” Again, there was a pause, and she could just feel the women freezing her out. It was time to be a little more vulnerable. “I wished I’d had someone teach me. Before I met Tomoe, I was in a bad state. I didn’t have anyone to rely on and I didn’t know how to do anything. All of us live in a really isolated area and we don’t know for sure that our kids will be able to get married. I want to help in any way I can — so no one faces what I faced.”

This finally seemed to strike a chord in Tsuru. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the way Nanami had hoped.

“Nanami-san, I don’t know what you went through in the past, but marriage and family are always an option. I know about the arrangement you have with your husband, but you have to admit — it’s unconventional. I have never heard of any man who allows his wife to work the way you do,” Tsuru said. 

“Yes,” Ina agreed. “It is very backwards. I don’t know why he puts up with staying home all day. The kind of wife a man wants is one who will support him in the home. A woman who’s distracted by outside work won’t be able to give him what he needs.”

Fresh hurt and anger flared in her chest. Did they think ill of Tomoe too? It was possible, given the way they looked at her, the way they talked about him. Perhaps they wouldn’t come out and say it, but it was clear they thought he was weak — and that something was wrong with the two of them.

“That’s just what we prefer,” Nanami said, struggling to keep her voice even. After all, fighting them would do no good. “It’s not hurting anyone. And I’m not saying you have to change anything about your families. All I’m saying is it’s nice to have help and a back-up plan.”

Tsuru shook her head. “Well, it wouldn’t work for us. Men need us to tend the children at home. You don’t have children yet, so you wouldn’t realize the amount of work that goes into raising them. I can’t see how you, as a childless woman, would manage all the village children, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Ina nodded, humming in agreement. “It’s a lot of work. Besides, it’s best that the children are raised by their own mothers. If you were a mother, you’d understand.” Here, she shot Nanami a hesitant glance. “I hope you wouldn’t burden your husband with the children.”

Such a dig made Nanami wince. In fact, in some ways, it made her want to cry. Because they made her seem selfish, no more than a thorn in Tomoe’s side. But it was clear from her conversations with Tomoe that he didn’t see her that way at all. In fact, he wanted this more than anything. Her emotions got the better of her, all sense flying from her head.

“Why can’t your husbands help out? You could both trade off!” she retorted. “It’s not a burden if you’re equals, right?”

“Men aren’t good with children,” Ina said, readjusting the swaddle she carried. The child stirred, but didn’t wake. “Like we’ve said — it’s best that we stay and tend to the children and the home.”

They really weren’t interested, Nanami realized. And it was best to stop pushing now. After all, Ina and Tsuru seemed more than weary of this conversation — in fact, they seemed almost offended. It made her wonder if anyone would listen to her, or if she was fighting a losing battle. And though she’d lived in this era for some time now, it was yet another reminder that she’d never understand the mindset these women had grown up with.

She swallowed hard. “I get it. I just thought it’d be nice and help people out. You know…give everyone another option.”

Tsuru nodded. “Thank you for thinking of us, but the rest of us will get along just fine. We’re satisfied to care for our husbands and children.”

“That’s how I find my fulfillment,” Ina agreed. “To see my children strong and healthy and know I have done my part. It’s good to know my husband won’t be without a son.”

Nanami felt like she’d been socked in the stomach. This was what they really thought about her, she realized. It seemed like she’d finally pushed the boundaries far enough for them to say it to her face. How on earth could she ever break through to them now?

She couldn’t even compose a proper comeback. It was Tsuru would spoke again. “If you don’t mind, Nanami-san, I need to get home.” She bowed her head slightly.

“I do too,” Ina agreed. “Chika’s watching the little ones.”

With that, the two women bid their goodbyes and then took off without buying anything, leaving Nanami to finish perusing the wares on her own. Her shoulders slumped. Two people’s opinions weren’t enough to decide it wouldn’t work, she reminded herself. Surely, there was at least one other parent who’d feel differently. But she had to admit — it wasn’t promising. Because if she knew anything about this village and this society, it was that this line of thinking was pervasive. 

She did her best to swallow back the sting of rejection. After everything she’d been through in her life, she couldn’t let a little adversity stop her, nor could she let other people’s opinions shake her to her foundation. Since her own childhood, she’d been shoved out of every social circle, on the outside looking in, wondering what life was like on the other side. But she’d never fit in. It just wasn’t who she was or how she’d grown up. In some ways, even if she had agreed with them, she had a feeling she’d still have been rejected.

Realizing she’d gotten lost in her own past, she sighed and turned her thoughts back to the school, back to how she could help. Based on what Ina and Tsuru had said, it didn’t sound like classes that lasted all day for five days a week would work. Modern conveniences afforded people from her time period that luxury, but here, manual labor was the only option. And each family needed all the help they could get. She wondered if she needed to format her school differently than the schools she was familiar with. What that looked like, she didn’t know yet, but there was always another way.

She’d do a bit more digging, she decided. If it’d take more time to get the villagers to come around to the idea, then perhaps it was a sign that fate had different plans for her life than she did. At the very least, it was more confirmation that she shouldn’t let this hold her back. It wasn’t like her career was the only aspect of her life; she still had Tomoe, and they still had their own plans for their family. That was something they had more control over, she admitted. She’d never been more grateful for his partnership.

Thinking of her future family, Ina and Tsuru’s words echoed back to her — words about how she didn’t know what it meant to raise children. Clearly, they found her inept, incapable, naive. She wondered if they’d have trusted her more if she’d also been a parent. While it wasn’t a reason to have children of her own, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d accept her and her viewpoint more once she became a mother too.

Maybe they just needed to see her live her life as an example, she thought, picking up a small jar and inspecting it. Regardless, she doubted it would be that easy. It all boiled down to who she could get on her side — and for that, she needed to investigate a little more. She could only hope that she’d find someone more open-minded, someone who’d be more sympathetic and willing to hear her side of the story.

Deep inside, she feared that might not be possible. She wondered if this village really was the home she’d been seeking after all.

Chapter Text

Over the next several days, Nanami did her best to maintain a positive attitude. She spoke with multiple women in the village, along with guests at the teahouse. A few seemed mildly intrigued by her idea, but the story was largely the same — they either seemed wary of her, or they commented that they simply couldn’t afford to give up their children for hours at a time when there was so much work to be done. 

Not to mention, Ina and Tsuru weren’t the only ones with questions about what her husband would do while she seemed to work two jobs. People seemed bewildered, hesitant, some even annoyed. And she could feel the piercing glances from the village women, no doubt paired with shaking heads and clicking tongues about what a strange woman she was, about her poor, childless husband.  

She told herself again and again that she had to make peace with how they viewed her, no matter how much it stung. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d been seen as an outsider.

The most she could get anyone to consider was tutoring their children a few times a week, but even then, they appeared much more interested in practical skills than how to read or write. In the end, Nanami realized that the modern version of a school wasn’t going to work. If she wanted to teach the kids, if she wanted to make a difference, then she needed to take baby steps — and she needed a different structure.

On her final day of interrogations, she came home with her head swimming, more discouraged than ever. So many people she’d spoken to had seemed to withhold their feelings, making excuses about why they wouldn’t send their kids to school, and she had no idea what to make of it. If she wanted any chance of convincing them, then she needed to get to the bottom of what would work, and whether tutoring was or wasn’t an option. 

As she walked inside the house, she finally admitted to herself — she needed someone with a bit more experience in this culture. And she needed support. Her eyes fell on Tomoe, who was cleaning the floor, and she realized that the person who could tell her had been here all along. If anyone would be honest with her, regardless of whether or not it hurt her feelings, then it would be Tomoe.

When Nanami stepped inside, Tomoe’s ears twitched, and he stopped scrubbing to look at her. She was back a little earlier than he’d expected, and he was still in the midst of a vigorous spring cleaning, dinner nowhere near ready. Still, they’d both been so preoccupied the last few days that the very sight of her made his tail sway a few times.

“Welcome home,” he greeted, sitting up on his haunches. He started to smile, but then he caught sight of the look on her face. 

Something about her seemed downtrodden, he thought, worry creasing his brow. He’d noticed it the last several days, but she hadn’t seemed ready to talk about it. Naturally, he knew she’d been looking into starting the school, and she’d assured him her demeanor had nothing to do with their discussions about having a baby, so he’d given her time to sort it out. But her mood had been up and down ever since their last discussion about the future. He hoped that she was finally ready to pour her heart out about whatever was bothering her.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

Briefly, she paused. She hadn’t told him about her conversation with Ina and Tsuru yet, much less any of the others she’d had. A part of her had hoped she’d find someone with a different opinion so when she told him it wouldn’t feel like a fruitless endeavor. Another part of her had even felt embarrassed at the thought of conceding to his original warning. Now it all seemed so petty. Because no matter how much she wanted to try, her heart still hurt. She’d been ostracized, she’d been looked down on for reasons she couldn’t help, and she’d been reprimanded simply for being different. It made her feel like she had all those years ago, when she’d been young and powerless, a teenager barely old enough to work a job and support herself.

And after holding it in for several days? She felt like she might burst.

Maybe she needed a little more than advice, she realized; maybe what she really needed was a shoulder to lean on as well.

She forced herself into action, removing her shoes and approaching him. “It’s a long story.” Here, she heaved a sigh. “Can we talk?”

Thank goodness; it seemed like she was going to tell him. “Of course.” He got to his feet, only pausing to fetch sake from the cabinet. If he knew her, then she needed it, he thought, pouring two cups. Once that was done, he offered her one of the cups. “Come. Let us sit outside.”

Murmuring a thank you, she accepted the cup and followed him to the veranda. There, they sat side by side, dangling their legs over the edge. She took a long sip of sake, feeling a little calmer the moment the liquid hit her tongue. The knowledge she could speak frankly to someone who’d listen and try to understand her helped set her at ease. Still, admitting defeat was a bitter pill to swallow. Thankfully, he must’ve picked up on her need to collect her thoughts, because he kept quiet.

After a moment, she found her tongue. “You were right about the school.” She swung one leg, her eyes on the action, a wistful smile twisting the corner of her mouth. “I guess I was kinda naive about it. Or just too optimistic.”

His ears twitched, and he turned to look at her. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I talked to some people about it,” she continued, voice soft. “I don’t think they can give that kind of time up. It’s just…weird to me, because where I come from, sending children to school helps the parents too. They can get their work done knowing the kids are cared for.”

Although he wasn’t surprised to hear this, it still made his heart ache for her. She looked so disappointed. And this had been her hope for the village — to make a difference. “Yes, I suppose it would make sense given what you have told me about your time. But it is not the case here.”

She shook her head. “No, they said they need the kids to help out at home. I guess I thought maybe if the little ones could go…” She trailed off. 

It was so hard to admit what she thought the real reason might be. She hoped by bringing schedules and physical labor up first, that he’d confirm those were the main snags. If it was because of her? That wasn’t something so easily remedied.

He studied her profile, merely holding his sake cup. A beat passed, yet she said nothing more, instead sipping her drink. Hesitantly, he brought his own cup to his lips. While he didn’t have an answer, he hoped prompting her might help her think. “Well, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Some of the women seemed open to tutoring, but they were more interested in subjects like gardening.” Here, she shot him an anxious glance, seeking reassurance.

Why was she looking at him like that? It was like she expected him to do or say something, but he couldn’t read her mind. Slowly, he replied, “Hm, that is no surprise. It is as I suspected.”

“Yeah…” She continued to swing her leg. “I was thinking I probably need to come up with something different from the kind of school I’m familiar with. I just don’t know what that looks like yet.”

“You mentioned tutoring. I would imagine that is your answer,” he pointed out.

“Maybe…” A pause, and she sipped her sake, mulling over his responses. So far, he hadn’t seemed to think she was on the wrong track, and that only made her worry her suspicions had been correct. “Tomoe, something else is really bothering me, and I need you to be honest with me.”

He blinked. “Of course. I have always been upfront with you, haven’t I?”

“You have been, but I just don’t want you to try to make me feel better if you don’t think there’s any hope.” She stopped there, staring down into her sake cup, her stomach twisting. It wasn’t until he murmured a word of affirmation, shooting her a confused glance, that she continued. “I don’t think people are being one hundred percent truthful when they say they need the kids at home. I think the real reason is that they don’t trust me with their kids.”

Why would anyone not trust Nanami? Sure, she could be headstrong and, sure, she had moments where she was so determined it could be read as delusion. But that was part of what drew him to her. One could trust her when she spoke her piece, because it always came from the heart. She never minced her words, obscuring her meaning behind passive aggressive statements and comments that opposed her feelings. Apart from Akura, he’d never met anyone as clear and outspoken as she was, but that was a strength. Wasn’t it?

“What makes you believe that?” he asked. “I find it hard to fathom that someone would distrust you.”

Initially, she second guessed her assumption that he might understand. But then, looking into his earnest gaze, she realized — it wasn’t that he wouldn’t understand. It was that he didn’t go into town, he didn’t know these people, and he hadn’t witnessed the way they’d treated her. Without that insight, he couldn’t possibly know.

“I feel like people avoid me a little bit. They never come out and say it, and they’re always polite, but they don’t exactly go out of their way to talk to me or hold a conversation,” she admitted. Here, she uttered a humorless, one note laugh, a wan smile scrawling over her mouth. “I feel like that woman with the crazy ideas in her head, you know?”

Tomoe didn’t respond right away, instead sipping his sake. This was something he could understand. The tricky part would be wording it in a way that didn’t exacerbate her distress; however, she had asked for his honesty even at the cost of her feelings.

“Well, you are not exactly like the other humans I have met,” he replied. “You have taught me many things no one else has.”

“And that’s just it! I’m so different. It’s stupid to pretend like I’m not.” A sigh caved her chest in, her shoulders slumping. Now that he’d confirmed this much, there was no sense denying it — it was exactly how she’d feared it would be. She poured her heart out. “They seem to think I can’t understand, especially since I don’t already have children. They act like I’m so selfish and so unfair to you. It’s like someone just automatically becomes less of a burden to everyone once they’re a mother. It really hurts.”

His ears flicked back, his brow furrowing. “Are they still prattling on about that? There is no need to worry so. I have told you that I don’t feel that way.”

“I know,” she moaned. “And I believe you. It’s not about me feeling guilty anymore. It’s that they’re not letting me in at all.” She dropped her chin, tilting her sake cup, staring at her reflection. “I wish I could make them understand that I can take care of kids, because I’ve been trained and I know I’m good with them, but I don’t know how I can change their minds.”

“People are very set in their ways,” he agreed with a hum. “I don’t believe even seeing it with their own eyes would relax them.”

Again, he confirmed her fears. Still, she asked, “Not even if they see how I am with our kids?”

“It is unlikely. It does not change who you are — nor would I want it to.” He studied her, his expression solemn. In case she didn’t quite grasp it, he added, “You and I are different. And people are very judgmental if you do not fit in.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard, holding her cup in both hands, resting it in her lap. “Everyone had to stick to the norms in my time too, but I didn’t realize just how much people looked down on being an individual until we came here. I’ve always sort of felt like I saw things differently from everyone else. Just not as much as these last few days.”

Tomoe’s eyes dropped to his own cup. He knew the feeling well. Until he’d met Akura, he hadn’t had a single soul to connect with. But it hadn’t been until Nanami had come into his life that he’d ever felt seen and heard. 

What she agonized over now was the very reason he adored her so much, yet assuring her of that was hardly what she needed. It would never take away from the pain of being thrust out when connection with others was so important to her. Perhaps he was content with her and her alone, but she struggled. He chose to honor that.

After a few seconds of silence, he laid a hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair. “It is hard to be alone.” He brought her head closer, kissing her temple. “I do not have an answer, but I have felt the pain that you feel.”

She shut her eyes, leaning into him. Even if he didn’t know what to say or what to do, it was a relief for him to empathize with her, especially when no one else would. “It’s really hard. I don’t know how I can make a difference if I can’t get them to trust me. It’s not like I can go straight to the kids, because that’d only make things worse. They’d think I was trying to indoctrinate them or something.”

“Perhaps so,” he murmured. 

He tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear, mulling over her dilemma, and yet he couldn’t come up with a solution. After all, this was never anything he’d put much stock into. Not that he understood much about human society anyway. 

“I am not the right person to offer an answer. But I will give you something to think about.” He paused, drifting his hand to her back. “You have cared for a villager’s child recently, have you not? And his mother has seen that no harm has come out of entrusting him into our care.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “But I don’t see how that’s gonna help much. They’re pretty dead set on thinking I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Perhaps you can start with that child’s mother,” he said. “I am certain that, out of everyone in this village, she would be more open to the idea.”

Nanami tilted her chin up, blinking at him. Why hadn’t she thought about this? Perhaps it hadn’t crossed her mind since she hadn’t seen Yamazaki in several days, or she was sure she would’ve asked her already. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“You did say if you could make a difference in one person’s life, then that would ease your heart,” he continued. “Akihito is a boy, and not one of the girls you had hoped to teach, but you must start somewhere.”

“I don’t only want to teach girls,” she replied, setting her half empty sake cup aside. “It was just something that struck me here.” She laid a hand over her heart. “Because of what I went through.”

“Of course.”

“Anyway… Maybe you’re right. Maybe the thing to do is tutor a few kids and try to gain their parents’ trust. It sounds like people only want it to be an occasional thing anyway. Everyone’s so busy.” She swung her leg. “I just…have to make a simpler curriculum. Something that suits this kind of town and doesn’t take up a ton of time.”

“Yes, people already learn trades from each other. That was how you started at the pottery shop,” he agreed. He declined to remind her that if she’d listened to him about the school from the beginning, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

She sighed, tension forming at her brow. “Yeah. I still don’t know if it’ll work — if I’m the problem, then it’s not that simple,” she admitted. “I just hope that I can set an example. Sometimes, a person has to see with their own eyes before coming around. I mean, it’s just a concept to them, and it’s unheard of… They don’t have exposure to this kind of thing. Not even in theory.”

“Well, I had certainly never heard of it before you enlightened me,” he murmured, watching her grimace. “I cannot say how these people will react to another human, but I have certainly never changed anyone’s mind about me. Humans are notoriously stubborn.”

She flicked a glance up at him. “I changed my mind about you.” As his ears twitched and his gaze slid down to her, she couldn’t help the faintest smile that flickered at the corners of her mouth. “What? It’s true.”

“You are the only one, my love. If there were as many humans as there were stars in the universe, one would not find another like you.” He sipped his sake, his eyes briefly falling shut.

Warmth flooded her cheeks and she couldn’t help but grin, a tiny giggle catching in her throat. He was so romantic, she thought, bumping his shoulder with her head, nudging him playfully. “Now you’re just flattering me. I told you not to try to make me feel better!”

“What? I am only speaking the truth!” he half-complained, but he couldn’t help the sense of relief he felt at seeing her smile again. He nuzzled against the side of her head, nosing into her hair.

Despite having told him not to make her feel better, she couldn’t help but be grateful that he had. It reignited that spark inside of her, that determination not to give up. She was sure she would’ve found it on her own sooner or later, but she doubted she would’ve been so successful without him.

Her thoughts drifted back to their discussion about the school and the curriculum, as well as the conversation with Ina and Tsuru. “Anyway, I was thinking…” she said slowly. “People are more focused on farming and marriage here. Maybe I need to start with small lessons — anything they’d do around the home. I can help the kids grow some plants as a hands-on thing, and I can teach them how to count money. Basic math. Right?”

“Those are practical skills,” he agreed, rubbing her back.

“Maybe if I can sell it like that, that math is for counting money or figuring out a harvest, then they’d be more open to it.” She forced a tiny smile, hoping it’d help her muster her optimism anew. “What do you think?”

“You know these people better than I do,” he pointed out. “But, given what I know about society, I believe it would be more effective. I cannot promise it will be successful; however, it is a place to start.” 

“Then I’ll try it,” she said. “I just hope it’ll help — even if I can’t teach them much.” Her lips twitched with another smile, her gaze soft and faraway.

Flicking a glance down at her, he bit back a sigh. He ran a hand over her hair, gentle and affectionate. “Now, try not to despair if it does not work out the way you had hoped. There is still the teahouse. You still have a purpose.”

“I know.” She forced a wider smile, although she was still a bit disappointed. 

Lifting her sake cup, she took another drink. It wasn’t the end of the world, she thought, gazing into Tomoe’s eyes, seeing the love and compassion shining in them. She always had Tomoe. By now, she had her doubts about ever fitting in with the rest of the village, but his companionship was worth more than anyone else’s. They saw each other in ways no one else ever would, and the future they wanted to build together was much more precious.

No, maybe the school wasn’t meant to be. But if it wasn’t, then she could still steer her destiny in the ways she could control — in the ways she already planned to. She’d told him they could balance multiple facets of their lives, and that hadn’t changed.

“I think…maybe I should focus on another dream,” she said after a moment. When he hummed in questioning, she explained, “The school wasn’t the only one, you know? It’s just the one I’ve had the longest.”

“Ah, yes, you have more than one dream.” 

Inside, he found his heart beating faster, his mouth going dry, anticipation vibrating through every muscle. But he did his best to push it down, not wanting to get ahead of himself. There was no guarantee she meant children. But heat didn’t make even the hint easy to ignore. It was all he could do to bite his tongue.

“Yeah… I’d like to think everyone does,” she said, something wistful in her tone. Although she noticed his laserpoint stare, she didn’t expand on her thoughts right away.

Instead, she gazed out over the yard, listening to the birdsong that resounded in the glade as the late afternoon waned into evening. If she listened carefully enough, she could also hear the rush of the stream. The sounds, the sweet scents of the cherry blossoms, the fresh, cool air on her face… It relaxed her, leaving her at peace. No matter what happened in the village, this house was her home, she thought. And this was where she belonged.

Staring up at the pale blue sky, at the delicate pink and purple hues tinging the clouds, at the swifts darting to and fro, she thought about just how small she was in the grand scheme of things. It wasn’t giving up, and it wasn’t giving in, but she could fulfill that longing inside of her — that longing to leave a legacy, that longing to make a difference. 

She didn’t know what the world held for her own children, and she didn’t know if the village was the place for them, but here in their cozy house in the forest, they would be safe. They would be loved and nurtured. And she and Tomoe would guide them to the place they, too, belonged.

Besides, there was plenty of time for the world around them to change. Given what she knew about yokai, they lived such a long time. If their children ended up being full yokai, then there was a chance they’d still be alive years and years from now, even during the time period she’d grown up in. Perhaps they would live in the mononoke world, or perhaps they wouldn’t. But the earth was wide and vast and filled with possibilities. There was still the chance that they could all leave their mark, that they could make at least one person’s life a little bit better.

No, she knew that her children would have a better life, she thought. It was just like she and Tomoe had acknowledged on the night that she’d dredged up all those ugly, too large feelings her father had left behind. Her children would be warm and cherished and happy. Unlike her, they’d be much better equipped to face whatever the future held. 

Perhaps it was a little selfish, but she couldn’t help but ache for those things — sharing the joy of her children experiencing all their firsts, basking in the warmth of their little bodies in her arms, experiencing a love in such an innate and unconditional form. Nothing would ever come between them. There was a great comfort in that.

She leaned against Tomoe, and she sighed.

It didn’t seem like Nanami had anything more to say, Tomoe realized, looking down at her, echoing her soft sigh. He swallowed back his disappointment, reminding himself there was still time to talk about it. But the look in her eyes told him now wasn’t that time.

While Nanami disappeared inside her head, he took the opportunity to do the same. He followed her gaze up to the heavens, watching the birds weave about, snapping up insects in mid-flight. Once again, he wondered what Nanami’s other dream was, if it was the same dream he had, if they’d come together in understanding and love and anticipation for that brighter future. And he hated that she’d been so sorely disappointed with her plans, but he couldn’t help but hope that it gave her a new perspective.

Other people could never be controlled. Dreams that relied on others couldn’t be controlled either. He knew that firsthand, and she did too. He wished he had the right words — words of comfort, of assurance, of experience — yet he didn’t. So he sat next to her, watching the sunset reflect on the clouds and paint the skies like a silken screen, offering his steady presence in lieu of words.

He’d expected her to continue in silence for some time yet, much to his surprise, her voice split through the serenity of the moment.

“You know, I think this is one of those ways fate gives you an answer,” she said, her lips quirked in a more genuine smile. “It’s funny, because from the outside, it might look like I am giving in to what other people think about me. But it’s not like that.”

His ears pricked up, and he gazed down at her quizzically. “I never said you were the type of person to bend to others’ wills.” A pause, and he asked, “Where is this coming from?”

“I was just thinking about how it’s only natural to want to fit in and to want people to like you. I think if anyone said they didn’t care, that deep down they’d still want someone to relate to.” She watched the clouds slowly drift by, pushed by gentle wind currents like ships’ sails in an endless ocean. “I still want to be the kind of person who takes care of others, and I don’t want to give up, but I want to redirect my energy.” She flashed him a smile. “I mean, Hana’s helping out at the teahouse, and if I’m only tutoring one or two kids, that won’t take up much time, right?”

Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He recalled their conversation from days earlier, how she’d told him that she could simultaneously look into the school and have children of their own. His heart beat faster. “Right.”

“So…” She set her cup down and folded her hands together, pressing them between her knees. “I think what we need is to focus on our own family. That’s where we’ll really belong.” Noticing she held his rapt attention, his ears tilted forward, his gaze unblinking, she smiled. “What I mean is — I want to be a mom.”

His eyes lit up, his tail hitting the veranda once before he caught it. She did share the same dream, he thought, excitement bubbling up inside of him. This time, he didn’t try to stifle it or diminish it or even contain it. Because the woman he loved to the bounds of this earth smiled at him so radiantly, offering the greatest gift she could’ve ever given him.

It tripled his desire to mate with her. Nothing was more attractive than this — Nanami expressing her wishes to create new life with him, morphing the two of their spirits into cubs of their very own. They would be beautiful, perfect. And as the spring neared its close, the first heat waves of summer creeping along the edges of the fields, those last flames within him had built to their crescendo.

He couldn’t withhold his enthusiasm any longer. This time, he let his tail wag in joy.

Sitting up straighter, beaming, he asked, “You would like to try for a child?” Unable to help it, he laid his hand on her leg.

Here, she nodded. “Yeah. I’m not saying I won’t still have anxiety about it, because I am nervous, but I feel a lot better after we talked about everything. Maybe it hasn’t seemed like it recently, but this has always been my dream too. I really do want a baby.”

His gaze softened, his tail swishing again, and he pressed his cheek to the side of her head. “I am glad. And I promise I will take care of you and our cubs, my love.”

She hugged his arm, leaning against his shoulder, her lips twitching. “I know you will. Thank you for being so understanding, Tomoe.”

“Always.” He kissed the top of her head and curled his tail around her hips. “I will tell you when you are fertile again. For now, let us enjoy each other.”

A giggle left her. “Yeah, of course. Maybe tonight, okay?”

His heart leapt into his throat. Tonight. Even if she wasn’t within her window, the very thought set his blood aflame, his breaths shaky. Was their sex life back on track? Based on the way she smiled up at him, he thought it was. Mingled with the anticipation was sheer relief — the kind that rendered him as weak as arousal did.

“It will be difficult to wait, my love,” he half growled, half purred, nuzzling the side of her head. He nipped her ear, playful.

She patted his knee and grinned. “It’ll be worth it. Promise.” With that, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and then snuggled against his side. “Watch the sunset with me, okay?”

Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood for fooling around now. He stifled his sigh — and his impatience. “All right.” He leaned back against her, doing his best to override his instincts.

What made it a little easier was seeing her so mellow again. Despite the temptation and the touch of their bodies, he took comfort in the fact they were finally here, that they had weathered the storm and come out on the other side. Sensing her body relax, melting into his form, he had a good feeling that they had reached an understanding they could both be happy with. If this was their shared dream, then he knew they could realize it. With this new direction in their lives came uncharted territory, but as long as he was with her, then he knew happiness was on the horizon.

Chapter Text

For the rest of the evening, Tomoe found it difficult to focus on anything else. Nanami’s words about wanting to be a mother and her desire to try for cubs blocked out every other coherent thought. He was glad they’d talked about Nanami’s plans regarding the school first, because now that mating was back on the table, he had a one track mind — and he had a feeling it’d remain that way. It was almost ridiculous how unintelligent he felt right now, he thought with a tiny huff as he washed the dishes after dinner that night, his tail swishing. 

Beyond that, it was uncomfortable, every inch of his body feeling like it was burning alive with primal instinct and need. It was harder than ever to refrain, not wanting to pounce her prematurely, not wanting to catch her off guard and push her to the floor and sink his teeth in her throat. Really, he thought, fighting back a sigh, his eyes falling shut. He hoped he could be gentle when they finally mated.

But at the rate this was going? He was a little worried about how he might react. He’d barely kept it together during their last encounter, and that had only been oral sex.

He was still lost in his thoughts, his tail flicking slowly back and forth, when a soft weight came to his shoulders. Lips brushed the shell of his ear, sending a crack of heat down his spine. A shudder wracked his body, his breath catching. He felt feverish, damp with sweat.

Nanami wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, clasping her hands at his chest. “You seem stressed. What’s wrong?” she asked.

Calm down, he thought, drawing in a rattling breath through his teeth. His heart throbbed, tension forming in his pelvis. But the sensation of her breath near his ear made it difficult to relax. “I am very impatient,” he muttered, his cheeks warmer. It was the best way he could think to word it.

“Impatient?” A tiny smile scrawled over her face. “Is this about what I said earlier? About sleeping with you tonight?” She flattened a hand over his chest, rubbing it affectionately.

“It is that obvious…” His ears turned sideways, his gaze on his trembling hands in the dishwater.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she admitted. It would’ve been difficult for her to have missed it, even if he’d been more discreet. After all, she had a lot of experience with men, and a lot of experience with impatient men at that.

A noisy sigh left him. Then her lips pressed into the fur at the base of his ear, and he nearly choked on his spit. They felt so sensitive. The sensation went straight between his legs, and he failed to swallow back his moan. Beads of sweat formed at his temples.

“Nanami,” he groaned, gripping the edges of the wash basin.

“Yeah?” she nuzzled against the side of his head, a little amused.

He swallowed hard, blood rushing in his ears. Reaching up, he clasped her hand in one of his, clutching it for dear life. “Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?”

“I have some idea,” she replied. It wasn’t like she’d never met a yokai in heat before him, but even if she hadn’t, he’d shown her enough. 

Hoping to convey that it was all right, she slipped a hand past the fold of his kimono and then his nagajuban, her fingertips finding his damp, overheated skin. She stroked him gingerly, listening to his breathing grow ragged. Maybe she was teasing him too much, she thought, her hand stilling.

The moment she stopped touching him, his tail lashed. He could hardly control himself. That bead of sweat trickled down his temple to his chin, and he grasped her wrist, keeping her from reaching any farther into his kimono. As much as he wanted her to run her hand over his entire body, he found it difficult to contain his instincts, and she needed to understand because, no matter what she’d experienced at the brothel, he doubted it was anything close to this.

“Nanami,” he began, albeit weakly.

His hand shook so violently, she thought, her eyes widening. That left her second guessing herself. She closed her fingers in on themselves, but made no move to pull her hand from his. “Sorry, I’m not trying to tease you,” she said. “I really do want to do this — have sex, I mean.”

“Well, I am relieved to hear that, because it is very hard to control myself,” he admitted. He exhaled in a rush, his ears flattening against his skull.

There was something he wasn’t telling her, she realized, reading his body language, feeling him stiffen beneath her touch. Slowly, she pulled her hand from his and sat back on her heels, giving him some space. “What’s the matter? Do you not want me to do this? If you don’t…I’m sorry. I read the room wrong.”

“It is not that.” He inhaled deeply, willing his heart to calm down. Now that she’d stopped draping herself over him, he felt his muscles untense, although he missed the contact too. Turning around, he met her sheepish gaze. “I believed I would be able to control it. But it is much more difficult than I imagined.” 

A bit embarrassed, he snapped his gaze from hers, his cheeks flushed. Would he scare her off? Given their conversations, he felt it would be easier for her if they took it slow, if they eased her into it instead of mating straight away — or, at least, mating with the intention of conceiving. That wasn’t likely since she wasn’t ovulating, but he should be mindful of the way he acted towards her, resisting the urge to take her wantonly and without restraint. Yet he didn’t know if he could do that.

“Control what?” she asked, confused. “If you mean having sex, you don’t have to control yourself. Not tonight anyway.” Here, she offered a smile, hoping to assure him.

“Not…quite.” He clenched his teeth, sucking in a breath as another wave of overbearing heat slammed through him. Just the invitation, just the implication that he could pounce her and have his way with her… His heart rabbitted.

She tilted her head. “Then what?”

Surely, she wasn’t so dense. “I want to mate,” he panted. “And I believed I could control myself, but I am finding that it is not so easy. I am on the brink of losing my senses. I—” He drew in a shuddering breath, dilated pupils locked on hers. “I fear it will be too intense.”

That look on his face, the hunger in his gaze, the wild instinct compelling him… She recognized it by now. But it didn’t scare her like he seemed to think it would. After all, it had never really been about having his child — it had been about her past. And she didn’t fear it so much anymore.

His skin glistened in the lamplight, his breaths short and labored, his eyes never leaving hers. Slowly, she scooted forward, reaching out to touch his cheek. The second her fingertips lighted on his skin, he flinched. In the moment that she hesitated, he covered her hand with his, pressing her palm to his cheek, staring so deeply into her eyes she felt like he peered into her very soul. Her heart beat faster, and she found herself thinking — would it hurt to play into his fantasy a bit? It wasn’t like she’d never done it before, even with him.

After a beat, she offered a smile. “So what if it’s intense? You’ve always been that way.”

With a tiny growl, he turned his head and nipped the heel of her hand, his tail flailing. “But I want you more than ever,” he insisted. “I cannot bear it. I want to mate with you. When I went down on you, it drove me wild, even when I said it would not. And I fear I will not be able to take it slow, if that is what you need.” He exhaled shakily. “I would not want to scare you.”

Still smiling, she caressed his cheek, her skin tingling from his bite. “It doesn’t scare me,” she whispered. “I like to drive you wild. Besides, we’ve played rough before and I’ve always enjoyed it then.”

He could hardly regulate his breaths, his blood rushing, body surging with heat and excitement. Again, he nipped at her hand, this time at her fingers. “Your warmth, your scent…” He paused, drawing his tongue up the length of her finger, finishing by sucking the tip of it. “Your taste.” The last word was purred, his eyes glittering. “It all entices me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she teased, her eyes half lidding, her smile morphing into a grin. 

Deciding to up the stakes, to show him she meant what she said, she loosened her obi enough to free her legs. His eyes dropped to her hand, widening a bit. His reaction wasn’t lost on her, and she slipped into his lap, straddling him. The sound of his hitched breath was worth it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, crossing one wrist over the other, and she hovered close to the side of his head. “I don’t mind at all,” she whispered, her lips brushing over the shell of his ear. “In fact…maybe I like it when you lose control a little.”

Oh, dear gods. A strangled sound caught in his throat, and though he’d meant to grab her hips, his hands found her ass instead. He gripped it, digging his nails into the fabric of her kimono, blood pulsing strongly between his legs. She shifted even closer, her thighs clamped at his, and he swore he could feel her heat even through the layers of his clothing. That was when it struck him — she was bare beneath, and she offered her entrance to him for the taking. His ears laid back, and he groaned.

“When you tease me, I cannot—” he began, breathless.

“Don’t hold back,” she murmured, tilting her head. She stared into his eyes, her nose brushing his, her lips a hair from his mouth. “If you want to take me, you can. In fact…” Here, she bumped her nose to his. “If you want to mate with me, you can.”

This was it; this was his undoing, he thought, his mouth hanging open. She left him feeling so weak he could hardly bear it, and yet he simultaneously felt this powerful urge overtake him. If he hadn’t been hanging onto his self-control by a thread, he would’ve shoved her to the floor and made her his all over again right then and there.

But then something in her tone — something seductive and sweet — gave him pause.

“You are…” He panted, swallowing again. “You are not playing into my desires out of habit, are you?”

It took her a few delayed seconds to understand what he meant. Her former life, she thought, mind a little clearer. “No,” she said, threading her fingers through the back of his hair. “I can’t help it if I have the experience, but this is for you.”

That hadn’t quite been what he’d asked. But he didn’t dispute it. Not when she smiled at him, not when she offered herself to him like this. And he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“Tell me how you want it,” he growled, his tail thumping against the floor from side to side. He pulled her higher up his lap, until her pelvis was flush with his. A shrieked giggle left her. “Tell me, and I will give it to you. I will pleasure you, and I will fill your belly with my seed.”

Although it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken to her this way, now was different. Because the way he said it, so seriously, told her how much he ached for this. Not just for sex, but for having cubs.

Wriggling from his hold, she said, “I think we need to get a little more comfortable first.” 

An agonized sound left him, and he grasped at thin air for her, but she slipped from his reach and stood, the loose fabric of her kimono swirling with her movement. She shot him a playful smile, her eyes dancing. All she had to do was crook her forefinger, beckoning him, and he couldn’t help but follow.

She turned around, stepping backwards, meeting his gaze. “Bring the futon,” she told him.

Although he wouldn’t deny her, he still asked, “And where are we going?”

“Just to the doorway. I’d love to look at the stars, wouldn’t you?”

“The stars?” At a time like this, he thought with a stifled groan. “Were we not going to mate?”

Here, she rocked forward and reversed her steps, meeting him in the middle of the room. She hooked an arm around his neck, laying her other hand on his chest. “Yeah, of course.” Here, she couldn’t help but grin. “Did you think I was going to say we should just cuddle?”

His ears lowered sideways. “One never knows,” he mumbled.

“Silly fox,” she murmured, then stood on her tip-toes and pressed her mouth to his in a searing kiss.

A moan pulled from deep in his throat, a shudder rippling through his body. He melted into her kiss, mouthing at her feverishly, his hands finding her sides. He swept his palms over her body, mapping it out, wishing he could tear her clothes off. Unable to resist, he grasped her obi, tugging it loose. The folds of her kimono billowed out, and the edges slipped from her shoulders to her forearms. Breathless, he crept a hand inside her kimono to loosen the bindings of her nagajuban as well. This time, he yanked the fabric down her arms, until the garment barely covered her breasts, leaving her collarbone and the outline of her top ribs visible to him.

She shivered in the cooler air, humming into his mouth. For a moment longer, she indulged him, kissing him until she felt his teeth scrape her lower lip. He glided a palm over the skin exposed to him, and goosebumps prickled over her entire body, eliciting another shiver. 

Again, he grasped at her clothing, jerking on it. At this rate, he’d shred her clothes, she thought, a sound of displeasure leaving her. Putting her hands at his chest, she pushed him away. “Okay, go get the futon. I’ll undress, all right?”

He bit her lip, his eyes on hers. “All right.”

“Don’t tear my clothes,” she chided. “You know it’s not easy to get fabric here.”

A wry smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “If I do tear them, I promise I will fetch you something of even greater quality. I will dress you like a princess.” He grinned, but then his gaze softened, and he brushed a hand over her blushing cheek. “Do not misunderstand me, Nanami. I would devour you, but I would put you back together just as quickly.”

In that fleeting moment of his touch, she turned her head and grazed her lips against his palm. “I know you would.” She couldn’t help but grin, her chest heaving, her heart fluttering wildly. But even though she wanted to cling to him, she let his hand slip from hers, the sensation of skin against skin sending a tingle between her legs.

With that, she glided across the floor towards the back of the house. There, she pushed open the rice paper doors to the garden, revealing the moonlit night, the trees and shrubs bathed in shades of silver and grey. Above, millions of pinpricks of light pierced the celestial canvas, twinkling in and out. She leaned in the doorframe for a moment, staring up at the clear sky in awe. She’d never get tired of a sight like this.

At the sound of the futon dragging across the floorboards, she pushed away from the doorframe. Time to make good on her promise. Although they’d hit a rough patch in their sex life recently, she still reveled in this — pleasing him, seducing him, making him feel good. There was something flattering about the way he still looked at her with stars in his eyes whenever he saw her fully unclothed and bared before him in a way she’d never bared herself for anyone else. She wanted to see that look of pure adoration on his face again and bask in the glow of his love for her.

She undid her obi the rest of the way, dropping it to the floor. With that done, she let her kimono fall open, hanging at the crooks of her elbows, and she followed it by slipping nimble fingers into the bindings of her nagajuban. Just like she had many times before, she undid them, but she stopped the fabric from falling entirely, grasping the front of it. 

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Tomoe’s tall figure appear just past the screen, the futon clutched in one of his hands. She couldn’t help herself. She shifted her weight so one of her legs peeked from her clothing, the fabric just barely covering her pelvis. Nothing hurt flashing a little hip, she thought; nor did it hurt to shoot him a well-timed ‘come hither’ glance. She did just that, cutting a seductive gaze towards him, her eyelids hooded and a gentle smile playing on her mouth.

He nearly dropped the futon, his heart all but stopping. It’d been so long since she’d gazed at him like that. He’d even forgotten that she was capable of such seduction. She held him captive, frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes off her. But when she leaned in the doorway, stretching one arm up over the frame, he couldn’t help himself.

He chuckled, the sound devolving into a growl. “You are worse than a vixen,” he teased.

“Well, I am a fox’s wife, aren’t I?” she teased back. “Come on. I know how to get you going. Give me some credit.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, although he thought it was anything but.

They’d just see how ridiculous he thought it was, she inwardly mused. Just as he tugged the futon to rest parallel to the door, she released her nagajuban, letting it flap open. The moment she did, she heard him choke on his spit. She let him get an eyeful before she turned to show him her clothed back, giving him only a peek of her bare shoulders, a strand of her hair tickling her spine from where it’d come loose of its arrangement. But he liked her a little bit disheveled, a little imperfect. And she liked him that way too.

“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” she said, delighting in his palpable desperation.

Such an impossible tease, he thought, stepping forward. He didn’t hesitate, slipping his arms around her from behind, nosing into the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. “Hm, is it?”

As his lips brushed her neck, she giggled. “Tomoe, that tickles.” 

He echoed her laugh in the form of a chuckle. “Does it, now?” His tail swayed, and he grazed her neck with his fangs. “Never mind the night sky. We have plenty of time to enjoy the moon while we explore each other.”

Her mouth twitched in a grin, and she reached up to stroke his ear, placing her other hand at his arm, which was wrapped around her waist. “You mean mate?” she teased, drawing her fingertips through the soft fur at the base of his ear. 

Another low chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he nipped at the tender skin at her jaw, just behind her ear. “Yes, I would like to mate,” he growled, nosing against her throat. “Although you are not in heat, so it is unlikely you will get pregnant.”

“Then how about we make love instead?” She twisted in his arms, flashing him a soft smile, her eyes half lidded. Caressing the back of his hand, she leaned closer, her nose inches from his. When she spoke again, it was just above a whisper. “That’s just as good, right?”

His eyes halfway closed as well, and he tilted his head down, the tip of his nose brushing her cheek. “Mm, yes.” 

Her sweet scent inundated his senses, and he leaned even closer. To know that she wanted this too had him shaking under her touch, his breaths mingling with hers in heated puffs. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he closed the distance between them, grazing his lips to hers to start, ending the featherlight kiss by biting her lower lip and sucking on it.

For a moment, they traded impassioned kisses, lips firmly pressing together and parting with small smacking sounds, the hint of his tongue swiping her mouth in a manner so suggestive she swore she felt it between her legs too. His breaths fell harsher against her cheek, and she found herself just as out of breath, heart racing and body zinging with the same animal need. One of his hands slipped up her waist to her chest, where he cupped one of her breasts in his palm, squeezing it gently. She shuddered a sigh against his mouth, holding his other hand against her stomach.

After a few beats more, they parted. For a second or two, they stared into each other’s eyes, Nanami running a hand over Tomoe’s chest, the gesture affectionate, her eyes locked with his. Then, she took a step back, flashing him a final smile before seeking out the folds of his clothing. She toyed with it, glancing from the action to his eyes, noticing that she held his rapt attention. His pupils dilated, his tongue darting out to taste her on his lips.

Nothing could match the sight of his wife unclothed, her nipples pert and peaked, her skin so silky and smooth, all but glowing in the moonlight. He ran a hand down her breast and stomach, trailing his fingertips along the way, drawing a shiver in the wake of his touch. Just before he could touch her between her legs, she distracted him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth — and dropped her robes entirely.

Her scent bloomed uninhibited, and he thought he’d lose his mind.

It was easy to see what she did to him, and his excitement only turned her on even more. To feel so desired by him, to be the only one he had eyes for filled her with such illuminating warmth she was overflowing. Giddiness bubbled inside of her at the prospect of touching him again, and those same butterflies beat anew from the pit of her stomach to the top of her ribcage. She felt newly in love.

That dreamy, adoring sparkle in her eyes was too much to resist. No longer willing to wait, Tomoe swept her off her feet, drawing a tiny shriek from her. The moment she dissolved into giggles, however, her arms encircling his neck, he knew all was well. So he laid her on the futon and hovered over her, his tail swishing behind him, his blood rushing hotly and urging him to take her.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she teased, tugging at his sash. “It’s hardly fair that I don’t get to see my husband naked, huh?”

“Then undress me,” he purred, bumping his nose to hers. His tail swished again, and then he cradled her cheek in his palm, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Her warm hands worked his sash open, even as he migrated his kisses to her lower lip, her chin, her jaw. He made his way along her jaw line, listening to her breathing deepen, his arms all but collapsing beneath him. Nothing could’ve been more musical than the sound of his name falling from her lips, her breaths shallow and muted. Beneath him, her body arched and, realizing he’d found a tender spot, he scraped his fangs against her throat. Her hummed moan was more than worth it.

Small sparks of pleasure flooded her body as he explored her with heated, damp lips. By now, she’d gotten his sash undone, and his kimono slipped open, giving her access to the under layers. She undid those by feel, until his soft, warm skin met her fingertips, until she could feel his chest heaving with his breaths under her wandering touch. As he shifted between her thighs, she parted her legs for him, letting him settle more comfortably on top of her. And as his tongue swept up the tendon along the side of her neck, she tilted her head up, giving him greater access.

“I will make you feel wonderful,” he murmured, nosing at her earlobe. 

He nipped at it, hips bucking, his erection sliding over the inside of her thigh and her pelvis. A shock of searing pleasure struck him and he couldn’t help but moan, rutting against her leg once more. Again, his mouth found her throat, kissing and sucking and licking every tender patch there. 

In response, she gripped the sleeves of his kimono, her mouth falling open to draw in ragged breaths, her heart beating faster. His lips trailed over her neck, igniting fire down her veins, and she shivered, whimpering a moan. Her body quivered, and she felt uncomfortably slick between the legs, overly focused on his firm length rubbing from her thigh to her waist.

Based on her scent, she was dripping for him already, and a press of his thigh to her folds confirmed it. She clamped his leg between hers, grinding against it, spreading her wetness over his skin and enticing him all the more. His blood ran hot, fast. Nipping at her throat, he raked a hand through her hair, pulling it from its arrangement. Her hair stick clattered somewhere to the floor, but he paid it no mind. Desperate, he humped her leg and swept a hand over her side, appreciating her slight curves.

Feeling him so close, body to body, rendered her weak all over. His heat licked over every inch where their bare skin adhered to each other, and she felt like she was burning alive in want, in need. She wrapped an arm around his neck, her other hand finding his cheek, urging him to lift his head. When he did, her lips found his chin, clumsy at first. He readjusted their position, head tilted at just the right angle, his hair falling around them like a silver curtain. The sensation of his panted breaths against her gaping mouth sent a wracked shiver through her body, and she swore his heart was beating so hard she could hear it in the quiet of the night.

“I love you,” she whispered between gasped breaths, feeling like she couldn’t get enough air. She trembled beneath him.

“Not even half as much as I love you,” he mused, his eyes soft, pupils rounded. He nuzzled into her palm, echoing her giggle in the form of a hummed laugh, and then he leaned down and closed the distance between them.

Their mouths worked together in firm, slow unison. She melted beneath him, her body so warm, so soft, so yielding. The sensation of her bare skin against his, of her small breasts and her hardened nipples, had his heart beating out of his chest in no time. He ran his hands through her hair, desperate for more, shaking all over. It felt like it’d been so long. 

The next time he grinded against her, he let himself slip down a little lower. Although he didn’t penetrate her, he rubbed himself on her inner thighs, the heat between her legs leaving him dizzy. The need to breathe finally overrode his need to kiss her, and so he pulled back to gulp a few breaths, heart thudding in his ears. His mouth hung open, a moan leaving him, another powerful surge of heat flashing through his body and forming beads of sweat over the surface of his skin.

“Tomoe,” she whispered, pausing to keen quietly at the friction of his waist against her clit. The tip of his erection bumped the fragile skin at her inner thigh, leaving a damp patch behind. Based on his breaths, on the way he wriggled his hips to get closer to her, he could barely contain it. “Don’t hold back anymore.”

“You would like more?” he panted.

Instead of responding, she reached between their bodies the best she could. He shifted his weight, leaving a gap between their hips, allowing her access to his erection. Lifting her head, she watched what she was doing, wrapping her fingers around it, aligning it with her entrance. Without further delay, she worked the tip past her folds, taking his girth easily.

Instantly, fire flooded over him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, and he released a guttural moan, his frame going rigid, his toes curling so tightly it was painful. He couldn’t wait, pushing forward and sheathing himself inside her as far as he could, her soft, wet walls hugging him so snugly. A shuddering cry left her, and her nails dug half moons into his back, her breaths short and staccato, falling humidly against his collarbone.

“Nanami,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. She whispered his name in response, and he knew then that she felt just as good as he did.

Surge after surge of the most potent pleasure he’d ever felt beat inside of him. He rocked against her, his movements uncoordinated yet passionate. It was difficult to think about pleasing her when instinct demanded he implant his seed in her, when all he could focus on was the kind of blinding pleasure that knocked the breath right out of him and pulled uncontrolled sounds from deep within his chest. He wanted to be as close as possible to her, to do more than to be inside of her, to merge with her in flesh and spirit, to become one. And when she raked her nails down his back and cried out his name like that? His entire being quivered in pure ecstasy.

She gathered him in her arms, holding him as tightly as she could, her hands beneath his clothing. Even if he was nailing her a little hard, his fervor made up for it, his body flush against hers, his waist grinding her clit with each thrust. She clamped her knees at his hips, whimpering, tucking her head under his chin and feeling safe — so safe. It was the knowledge that he was there for her, that he shielded her, that he covered her fully in her most vulnerable moment that made her weak with love for him. And that love bloomed into desire, those thick tendrils rising below her navel, tensing at the union of their bodies. 

She moaned his name, and she undulated beneath him, the harshness of his thrusts morphing to deep, satisfying pleasure. It was difficult to believe that they’d gone so long without this, because now that they were tangled in each other, their bodies as close as two people could physically be, she remembered how much she loved sharing such intimacy with him. She clawed down his back, gasping, crossing her ankles at his tail.

Every part of Tomoe’s body responded, lit up hot, all his muscles vibrating with the building tension. He didn’t think he could last very long, and he could hardly control his movements either, pounding her into the futon. Breathless, panting, he buried his mouth in the top of her hair and kissed it, even as instinct thundered inside of him in the form of rushing blood and too many intoxicating hormones. His pleasure crested swiftly, and he dug his toes into the futon for leverage, the sound of skin smacking against skin filling the space.

He drowned in wave after crashing wave of intense pleasure, the kind that made his ears pin to the back of his head and his breaths grow ragged, edged with growls and moans. He honed in on that tightness surrounding him, on how deep he could penetrate her with each thrust, on ensuring the angle of her hips was just right to keep as much of his seed as possible inside of her. 

So close. He was going to come inside of her, right there at her womb, and their mating would be complete. The very thought of release, of making her his mate, pushed him to the brink. His head spun, and he sank his claws into the bedding.

Based on Tomoe’s groans, his hips digging into hers and his thrusts short and sharp, he wasn’t going to last long. But after weeks of forgoing this kind of pleasure, she couldn’t bear it if it was over within minutes, especially when she so desperately wanted to bond with him. So she grasped his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Tomoe, stop,” she panted, digging her nails into his skin. “Just for a second.”

Her voice cut through the buzzing sensation that had settled thickly in his skull. An anguished sound died in his throat. Although he was on the brink of exploding, he stilled his hips, letting her clamp his shoulders, his heart thrashing against his ribs. It was all he could do to keep from snapping his teeth like some wild animal; he shook in her hold, his breaths harsh pants against her mouth, his eyes half lidded and near predatory. He couldn’t even think clearly enough to form proper words.

That look on his face… He looked more fox than man, but she remained relaxed beneath him. After all, no matter how primal he became, he was still her Tomoe. Even so, she didn’t want to frustrate him, so she cradled his cheek with one hand and brought his head closer, smiling.

“What do you say I take control, hm?” she purred in his ear, then finished by kissing the shell of it.

As much as he wanted to keep ramming her, he got the message — he’d been too rough. The prospect of continuing was too alluring anyway, so he withdrew from her body at once. Immediately, an unpleasant tingle zinged up his spine, overstimulation screaming at every nerve ending. A hiss escaped him. 

In the next instant, however, he found himself on his back, staring up at Nanami’s visage, her dark brown eyes sparkling in the golden lamplight from a nearby lantern, her lips pink and kiss swollen, her hair in disarray as it framed her rosy cheeks. Her thighs straddled his hips, and it knocked the breath right out of him.

Mouth dry, he ran his palms up her legs, starting at the knee and finding his way to her hips. He held them, thumbs brushing over the hollows at her hip bones, his eyes locked on hers. “Mount me,” he murmured.

For a moment, they were still, both breathing fast, never once breaking eye contact as something unspoken and passionate and wanting passed between them. Nanami could feel it in his touch — the urgent way he ran his thumbs back and forth over her skin, his claws occasionally grazing tender dips and curves in her body. He quivered beneath her, and his pupils blew wide.

Deciding that was enough of an interruption to stave off his orgasm, she wrapped her fingers around his erection for the second time that evening. Briefly, his eyes glazed over, a moan pulling from his chest. But the way he stroked her hip, with such sweetness and affection, told her that he wanted to make love too.

With only minimal hesitation, she pressed the tip of his erection to her folds. A pause, and they stared at each other. Slowly, she pushed the tip past her entrance, and then she carefully sank down on his erection, relaxing her muscles to accommodate him. The excitement of this situation — the love between them — was enough for pleasure to spread through her like a shockwave.

“Tomoe,” she murmured, eyes fluttering shut.

Tomoe could only groan, his mouth falling open, fangs on full display. She was so wet. Momentarily, it was all he could focus on — her slickness surrounding him, coating him. He felt the blood throbbing between his legs, the sensation heightened by her body surrounding him, holding him inside so deeply. It wasn’t the optimal mating position, but right now it didn’t matter. 

Near delirious from arousal and need, he bucked up. She stretched out over him, her eyes captivating him, her skin glowing and dewy in the lamplight. Her radiance almost left him speechless, and a surge of adoration for this woman filled his chest until he was overflowing.

Before she could land her hands on his chest and brace herself, he caught them, lacing his fingers with hers. “Hold my hands,” he murmured.

A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. She laced her fingers with his, and then the two of them tightened their grip on each other’s hands. Once she’d steadied herself and gained leverage, she lifted herself ever so slightly. Then, she lowered on his erection again. Carefully, she built up a rhythm, riding him in minimal movements. Although she knew it’d be frustrating, she wanted them both to enjoy this to the fullest.

Overwhelming bursts of pleasure washed over Tomoe. Her muscles hugged his erection tightly, her wetness gliding over him, the friction of skin against skin tantalizing. His feet jerked, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his fangs, his spine going rigid. In response, she moved a little faster, clenching her muscles around him and humming.

“That’s it,” he purred. “Does it feel good?”

Even without touching her clit, just the knowledge that her husband was inside of her — that they loved and trusted each other this much, even when there was only a slim chance she could get pregnant with his child — brought her warm, encompassing pleasure. “Yeah, it feels very good.” It was an act of affection, a showcase of love, she thought, clinging to his hands, bracing herself on her knees and shins.

Observing the way his ears laid back, how his eyes morphed dark and hazy, she couldn’t help but smile. He was feeling good too. Even though she was in control now, she’d be surprised if he lasted very long, which was why she rolled her hips slowly. She needed to catch up. Already, his hands shook in hers, his palms clammy. His breaths grew ragged, deeper, a few moans catching in the back of his throat.

Without prompt, he said, “Ah, that feels lovely.”

“Mm, yeah?” Her eyes half lidded, and she clung to his hands, watching his Adam’s apple bob. “You look like you’re feeling really good.”

He hummed. “I am.”

Another wave of pleasure nearly peaked, and his muscles tensed, his toes curling tightly. It was obvious that she wanted to make this last, and while he wasn’t sure how long he could go, he could try to pace himself. He clenched his teeth, holding his breath and willing himself not to come.

As soon as the wave abated, he exhaled, his chest collapsing. His heart thundered in his ears, and he clutched her hands to the point of painful. A notion struck him, and he sank a fang into his lower lip, his eyes glittering.

He composed himself enough to ask, “Shall I tell you before I come?”

Drinking in the sight of him laid beneath her, his hair fanned out, his eyes violet in the dim lantern light, she realized what he meant by it. This was part of what turned him on, she thought. And she had to admit — now that she’d gotten over her hang-ups, it turned her on too.

“I’d like that a lot,” she murmured, a moan underlining her words. “Are you gonna fill me up?” She wriggled her hips, halfway teasing.

His eyes all but rolled back, a shudder wracking him from head to toe. “Gods,” he sputtered. 

At her soft laugh, he fixed his eyes on her again, taking in the way she rolled her hips, her body swaying and her breasts bouncing lightly. But what really made him choke on his spit was the sight of his length disappearing inside of her before reappearing again, her folds shifting with the movement. He began to pant audibly.

For a moment more, Nanami indulged him, letting him watch her body as she rode him. She noticed his eyes trail over her breasts and then lower, until they settled on the act itself. Men had always liked to watch themselves fuck her, she thought, biting back a grin. They were visual creatures, and Tomoe was no exception.

“Do you like watching yourself fuck me?” she teased.

The crass word she used snapped him out of his near trance. As enjoyable as it was to be so crude, he found himself longing for something more intimate. “Not quite.” He ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands, his eyes glittering. “I like watching myself make love to you.”

Momentarily, his words caught her off guard, and her cheeks colored. Then, catching sight of the mischief and amusement that quirked the corners of his lips, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“You know just what to say, don’t you?” She offered a smile, then rode him with more exaggerated movements, just for his benefit. The sound of his groan was more than worth the extra effort and the strain on her thighs. Wanting to tease him further, she decided more dirty talk was in order. “Mm, Tomoe, you can reach so deep. I can’t believe I can take all of you.”

Her comment enhanced his pleasure, curling his toes. How he loved it when she spoke so brazenly. An ah escaped him, and he writhed, struggling to respond. “You are so tight. And you are growing so wet, even without me touching your clit.” Here, he paused to pant, a shiver rippling through him as sweat coated his skin and evaporated in the cooler air. Now his nipples hardened too.

At the mention of her clit, she decided it was time to alleviate more of her ache. Bracing herself on her knees, she pulled her hands from his. Their eyes met, and she stretched out further, crawling onto her elbows, tightening her muscles to keep him from slipping out while she readjusted their position.

Now that she lay on top of him, she relaxed, more comfortable. She rolled her hips in easy motions, one hand finding his cheek, touching it gingerly. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he breathed. 

There was no way it wouldn’t have been okay. Holding her so close, body to body, elicited something even more powerful in him than heat alone — and that was the strong tenderness he harbored for her. He engulfed her in his arms, wrapping his tail around her calves, basking in her warmth and her scent and the pleasure they shared. It was cozier this way, and he enjoyed the silky smooth brush of her torso against his, of her nipples bumping his chest. He wanted to keep her there forever, to mark her, to scent her. His rumbling moans vibrated in his throat as purrs, expressing just how good he felt and how lucky he was to have her.

The friction against her clit was just right, hot sparks shooting up and down her legs. Feverish, she rubbed herself against him with greater pressure until his hip bones dug into hers. Her muscles throbbed a few times, involuntarily, and she rutted harder.

“Ah,” she panted. “Tomoe. Tomoe.”

Eyelids fluttering in ecstasy, he tightened his grip, brushing his thumb back and forth over her spine. His lips found her temple, and he panted into her hair. “Wife, mmm.” He rocked his hips up to meet her, groaning as she humped him harder, impaling herself on his erection until he was in as far as he could go.

It seemed he wanted to remind her what they were to each other, she thought with a tiny smile. She rested her head by his, breathing erratically, heart thudding in her ears. “Husband.”

She encircled his head with her arms, whimpering. By now, her arousal had erased all her inhibitions. He was in heat, she thought, and what better way to please him than to cater to his fantasies? She found her own desires heightening too, that desperation to carry his child, to become closer to him than she’d ever been with anyone before. The closest that any two people could ever be. So she spoke to him, raw and unbridled. 

“I want a baby,” she whispered. “Give me a child.”

His eyes snapped open, a strangled sound catching in his throat. Fresh heat surged in his veins, his heart rate increasing, the tension behind his balls painful. Just hearing her say that re-awakened that primal instinct in him — that instinct to mate. Groaning, he turned his head towards hers, shutting his eyes again and exhaling shakily against the crown of her head. 

“Mate with me, wife,” he panted, nosing into her hair. “And I will give you cubs.”

She tangled her fingers in his long hair, clinging to it, whimpering behind closed lips. Perhaps years of living in the yokai world — and the past two years of being in a relationship with him — had changed the way she thought about this. Because she found herself thinking — they were mating. Not as a fantasy like some of the men had played into at the brothel. But actually mating.

Swept away by the thrill of it all, she tugged his hair, crying out in a quiet, high-pitched tone. Pleasure rushed up and down her legs, spurred on by the deep emotions washing over her. “I love you,” she breathed. “I love you so much.”

A moan left him, and he cleaved to her, holding her so close he could feel her ribs through her skin, could feel her heart pounding. “I love you too.” His ears laid back, eyes squeezed shut, his fists closing in on themselves. “Carry my cubs.”

“Ah, please.” She whimpered, tucking her head under his chin. Although she’d fended for herself as much as possible, something about this moment was sacred, her vulnerability on full display. And she embraced it. “Tomoe, please promise me…” She couldn’t finish the thought as another whimper bubbled in her throat.

Between open-mouthed gasps, Tomoe pressed kisses to the top and side of her head. His hands ran over her back, rubbing up and down her spine. Even though she didn’t finish the statement, he had a feeling he knew what she needed. “I will take care of you — and our cubs.” He paused as she shivered, whispering his name. “I promise.”

She clutched his hair in one hand, the other sliding up to his ear. There, she massaged the base of his ear, eliciting a shudder from him, one that rippled through her body as well. “You’ll always be here?”

“Yes, always,” he assured her.

He was committed to her, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. Nuzzling against him, she swallowed hard, shutting her eyes. “I love you, Tomoe,” she whispered again.

Speaking these sentiments seemed to be important to her, and Tomoe had to admit — he felt strongly for her too. Especially now — now that he was on the brink of orgasm, now that they were mating for cubs. His ears twitched, and he rolled his hips up. “I love you too, wife.”

She clutched him fiercely. This moment, it felt more real than it ever had, especially when his body tensed, when she could feel his heart beating fast beneath her, when she knew his orgasm was close. But she’d never been more sure of her desire to be a mother in her life. And, if by some chance she got pregnant from this encounter, she had faith that they’d embrace their future together.

Gasping shakily through an open mouth, Nanami arched, and another tiny, high-pitched cry escaped. She humped his waist faster, that tingling sensation spreading over her skin. “Finish with me,” she pleaded.

Momentarily, he clenched his teeth, a cross between a growl and a groan escaping him. He dug his nails into her back, the force of her thrusts rippling through his body. Any further words escaped him, overpowered by sensation and lust. He felt like flames licked every inch inside of him, consuming him whole, sweat trickling down into every dip of his body. The bedding beneath him felt uncomfortably damp, and their torsos stuck together everywhere they touched. He wanted nothing more than to flip her onto her back, to ravish her until he’d had his fill. But she rendered him almost too weak to move. He was on the verge of bursting.

The tension heightened to the point her chest seized. Desperately, she rubbed the velvet fur at the base of his ear, pressing her fingers into the sensitive spots there, the ones that would flood his body with wilting, blinding pleasure. The action drew an elongated moan from him, the sound filling the entire house. This time, when he arched up, he didn’t come back down, his chest heaving. He was about to come. And she was too. 

She mouthed kisses along his collarbone and throat. “Husband… Come inside me,” she urged. She lifted her head, pressing kisses to his cheek, to his chin, to his lips, each one more passionate than the last.

In an instant, the tension burst. His mouth fell open and he moaned loudly in animalistic tones, hips rolling up in frantic motions. He came inside of her, aware of himself filling her, and the possibility that he could get her pregnant sated something deeply ingrained and instinctual within him. Every sense was alert, every pleasure intensified until he ached bone deep. 

He panted, moaning again, rocking against her until he’d finished coming. Only once he’d bled out every ounce of energy did he go slack beneath her, out of breath, all his limbs trembling.

Involuntary jolts rippled through his body to hers as she moved on him. The smallest whine sounded in the back of his throat, so she slowed. She could feel some of that extra wetness spreading between them from her movements, and her heart leapt. Instead of making her nervous, however, she found herself hungry to finish. But not this way — not if penetration made him too sensitive.

“Tomoe,” she panted, holding herself up on an arm. “Do you need me to stop?”

Feeling Nanami still, Tomoe opened his eyes and gazed up at her, watching her nibble her lower lip. No matter how sensitive he was, he refused to leave her hanging. “Keep going,” he encouraged, albeit breathlessly. “Indulge your pleasure.”

Relief flooded through her. A smile flickered at her lips and she stretched over him again. She held his head in her arms and he returned her embrace, gentle hands running up and down her back, his touch soothing and affectionate. His lips brushed every heated part of skin he could reach, sending small sparks of pleasure through her. The thought that she could actually bear his child spurred on her pleasure. She grinded against him with abandon.

“I’m gonna have your baby,” she panted, shivering as his lips touched her forehead, then her temple.

A residual shudder of pleasure raced up and down his spine, and his breath caught in his throat. She seemed to be speaking words mostly for her own benefit, because she was whimpering, unraveling. “Keep going,” he murmured.

Gritting her teeth, she rubbed her clit against his waist until she felt hot, until her toes curled. That combined with the sensation of being penetrated built the pressure below her navel. Her lower back ached from the effort of rutting against him, her chest burning with breathlessness. Every muscle pulled taut, straining against the incredible tension they’d created. 

But what was really her undoing was when his lips touched every part of her head he could reach, his arms folding her in a secure embrace. Being held so close by the person she trusted more than anyone in the world grew her love until she felt it pouring out of her, too big to contain. She sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth, and then she cried out, the pleasure snapping inside of her. Humping him in desperate, uncoordinated movements, she rode out the remainder of her orgasm, strong throbs surrounding him and gradually tapering off.

Once she’d come down from her high, she sighed and dropped to his body, taking a moment to breathe. Exhaustion weighed her down, but she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. “Mm, that felt so good,” she whispered. She nuzzled his throat, his collarbone, brushing her foot over his leg. “I missed that.”

“I did too.” He exhaled, all the muscles in his body relaxing, his heart rate slowing. Although he was tired, he could still feel a slight pull within him, that instinctual need lingering in the background; the relief had only been temporary. Perhaps if they rested a bit, if they basked in the skin to skin contact and each other’s body heat, then he could go again. Still, he decided to check in with her. “How are you feeling? About the possibility that our mating was successful?”

She blushed, eyes opening halfway. Resting her hot cheek against his chest, she was silent, staring out into the darkness, the sound of his heartbeat filling her ear. Now that the moment had passed, the thought elicited a flutter in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn’t bad. In fact, it was a little exciting.

“A little nervous, but I’m mostly hopeful,” she admitted. She paused again, searching within herself. A grin spread over her face. “Maybe it’ll hit me later because I feel pretty high right now, but I feel good. Really good.”

“I am glad.” He brought a hand to the back of her head and pressed it closer, kissing her hair. Blinking into the darkness, watching the lantern light flicker and dance along the walls, he asked, “Would you like to mate again tonight?”

They did have some making up to do, she thought with a happy sigh. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

For a moment, they were quiet, lightly touching each other. She traced patterns against his chest while he threaded his fingers through her hair. Occasionally, one of his long claws nicked her scalp, but never enough to pierce it. Instead, the sensation sent tingles up and down her spine, followed by miniature sparks of pleasure. She melted.

Another thought struck her — something he’d said about being able to smell when she was ovulating. Turning her eyes up, catching sight of his chin, she said, “Tomoe? You said it was unlikely I’d get pregnant tonight because I’m not, um, in heat. So you mean I’m not fertile?”

He slipped his fingers into the roots of her hair and gingerly began to scratch her scalp, drawing a sigh from her. “No, you are not. But that does not mean it will not happen.” He brushed his palm against her cheek, the tips of his claws still in her hair.

“Right.” She blinked lazily.

Wondering if perhaps she was a little apprehensive, he brought a strand of hair to his mouth and kissed it. “No matter what happens, you know that I love you, don’t you?”

Here, she peeked up at him. “Yeah, I know. And I love you too.”

“Good.” He paused, kissing her forehead slowly and sweetly. “I will always be by your side, Nanami. I will love you and love you some more until you are sick of me.”

Her lips quirked at the edges, and then she broke into a wide grin, her cheeks hurting. She curled up on top of Tomoe, clinging to him, one hand still at his ear. “I could never get sick of you,” she whispered. “I love you too much. We fought too hard to get here, didn’t we?”

Smiling, Tomoe brought a hand to her face again, cradling her cheek in his palm. “We did fight to be together,” he agreed. “I will never take you for granted.”

At this, Nanami lifted her head to look at him, finally bringing her arm down to embrace him. They exchanged another smile, and then Nanami touched her lips to his. “I’ll love you,” she said again. “Always and forever.”

No matter what happened, she knew they’d be all right. All she had to do was put her faith in him, and he’d always catch her.

Chapter Text

Once they started having sex again, it was like something inside them had been completely released, and neither of them could stop. They even made love when Nanami was bleeding, despite knowing it likely wouldn’t lead to anything. And every time they finished mating, Tomoe held her close and spoke sweet words to her, reiterating again and again that she was his wife, that he would always be by her side. Although she no longer needed as much assurance, hearing him say it left her aglow in happiness and gratitude. He made her feel safer than anyone ever had.

Finally, the day came when her window arrived. She knew it must’ve been time the moment she walked in after a long day of work and caught Tomoe’s widening eyes, his pupils dilating and his ears perking up. She barely had a chance to greet him before he approached her, engulfing her in his arms, pulling her up against his body. His breaths deepened, and he nosed into her hair, smelling her, his tail flicking back and forth.

“Tomoe?” she began, her hands fluttering to his shoulders.

Suffering from the last dregs of his own heat had been miserable, especially since they’d decided to try for cubs and she had yet to become pregnant. It hadn’t even been that long, but he was desperate for them to conceive a child before his mating season ended — and that wasn’t terribly far off. They might have the chance to mate during his heat within her next cycle — or the next two if they were lucky — and then that consuming flame inside of him would burn out. No matter that they could continue trying outside of heat; it demanded that he satisfy it now.

And in this moment? He felt like he’d reached the peak of desperation. Her scent hit him thick and strong, inundating his senses, urging him to bend her over and take her. The time had finally come, and it had his heart pounding out of his chest. He barely even heard her say his name, everything else apart from her scent and the soft warmth of her body fading into the background.

“You are in heat,” he purred, his voice in her ear. He gripped the back of her kimono. “I will bed you.”

His fangs sank into her throat and her eyes blew wide. At the same moment, his hands drifted to squeeze her ass, and she yiped at the sensation of his claws through the fabric. Quickly, the sound morphed into a small laugh. Still, she pushed at his shoulders.

“I just got home!” she said with another laugh.

“I will be quick,” Tomoe murmured between scrapes of his fangs to her throat. “I cannot resist your scent.” He drew his tongue up the expanse of her neck, delighting in her shiver. “I will feed you after we mate.”

This was new, she thought, a little stunned. Normally, Tomoe was so thoughtful, so methodical. Now, however, he seemed to flare with desperation and instinct in a way she’d never seen before. And something about the way he mouthed down her neck and her chest lit a fire within her. He was so hot for her he couldn’t even wait for dinner. She had to admit — all the sex they’d been having had whetted her libido as well.

Tension built below her navel. A quickie before dinner wouldn’t hurt, she thought. It didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge more later. So she grinned and reached around his body for the sash of his kimono.

“Someone’s more desperate than usual,” she teased, nuzzling his throat. She undid his sash, then parted his kimono. “You want me that bad?”

“Yes,” Tomoe breathed, body burning alive with need, with lust. He shuddered just from the touch of her damp lips to his collarbone, his chest heaving, his entire body trembling. “I can barely contain my desire for you. I want so very much for you to bear my cubs.”

“Well, I want you to give me your cubs too,” she said playfully. She’d just started to slip his kimono down his shoulders, kissing his collarbone again, when strong hands grasped her obi and all but ripped it from her body. A small shriek left her, but again she giggled. “What the hell, Tomoe? Are you going to tear my clothes this time?”

“If I do, then I will repair them,” he replied, humming and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. There, he inhaled deeply, his heart beating so fast it left him dizzy, hormones rushing through him to the point of inebriation. It made him feel drunk, mesmerized. “You are wearing far too many clothes anyway, my love.”

“Tomoe—” 

Before she even got a chance to react, he yanked open her kimono, followed by her nagajuban. It happened so quickly she was sure he’d torn her clothes off, but then she found he’d merely rent the bindings of her underlayers. In one more instant, he’d jerked her clothes from her frame and tossed them aside. The next thing she knew, he’d swept her off her feet, carrying her towards the futon. She wrapped her arms and legs around him for leverage, reeling.

With her undressed, her scent wafted to him anew, potent and commanding and tantalizing. He felt a little outside of himself, overcome by this beast within him, that wild fox breaking free of its constraints and barging out to play. Unable to help it, he dropped to the bed and pinned her to it, hovering over her with his kimono falling off his frame and his eyes glinting. Every muscle in his body quivered, taut and painful, his erection pressed to his belly.

“How should I take you?” he mused aloud, running his tongue over his lower lip. “On your back? Or should I take you from behind?”

Her breaths came short and sharp, her blood rushing with a mix of excitement and maybe a hint of intimidation. But the fact he asked such a question, holding himself up over her on his hands and knees, his tail swaying slowly, told her he hadn’t lost control. He still sought her approval, she thought. And maybe it’d be difficult for him during heat, but she knew all she had to do was tell him to stop, and he would.

She loved her fox husband. Every bit of him. And she wasn’t unaccustomed to this wild side of him either. It’d just been a while.

Cutting a seductive, half-lidded gaze up at him, she reached up and stroked his cheek. In response, he nipped her wrist, his tail snapping, playful. “Take me from behind,” she purred, twisting her hips, resting one leg on top of the other. “That’s how you want to mate, right?”

“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. When she looked at him like that, her eyes glittering mischievously, bringing her hand up to bite her finger, he couldn’t resist. 

The last shred of self-control snapped. He didn’t even wait for her to change position beyond rolling to her side. Immediately, he mounted her from behind, half lying on her side, working his erection between the backs of her thighs. There, he grinded his length against her folds, growing hotter and hotter, until he thought he’d lose it. But she wasn’t quite wet enough.  

His ears pinned to his head, and he slipped a hand between her legs, fingertips finding her clit. He wasted no time rubbing circles around it, his touch firm and unyielding. Her body jolted, her feet twitching, her breath choked. Panting, he rutted against her, his hips smacking her ass, his erection gliding between her thighs. He needed more.

“T-Tomoe,” she gasped. 

His fingers sent intense electric shock up and down her legs, his touch more careless than usual. And yet between the stimulation of her clit and his erection rubbing her folds, she found her excitement growing. 

In the next moment, one of his fingers worked into her entrance despite the friction, and he pressed his palm against her clit while he massaged her. Hums caught in her throat, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder, beginning to rock with him, her body loosening for him. Soon, her breaths had deepened considerably, her heart thumping harder, and he worked a second finger in. He rubbed her inner walls firmly, working his fingers quickly, his palm dragging up and down her clit. Just like that, she found herself getting wet. Very wet.

A half groan, half keen left her, and she pushed down on his fingers, wriggling her hips, desperate for more contact. “Mm, deeper.”

Instead of acquiescing, Tomoe withdrew his fingers, grinning at her whine of protest. He took a moment to flick his tongue over his fingers, cleaning them, tasting her. “If you would like deeper, then mate with me,” he growled, cleaving to her back.

Wordlessly, she hooked her leg over his, giving him better access. She turned her head to look at him, to encourage him with a dirty word or two, but the sight of his face stopped her in her tracks. He was flushed and slick with sweat, his eyes hazy and lips parted to bare his fangs, his breaths heated and heavy and audible. It was almost like he was outside of himself, overcome by heat, she thought. 

Hoping to ground him in the moment, she reached up, touching tender fingertips to his lips. That seemed to work, because he blinked, his gaze affixing to hers. She offered a smile, one which he returned before he sealed his mouth to hers in a consuming kiss.

She’d just started to return it, her mouth working with his, his tongue gliding over hers, when she felt the tip of his erection penetrating her entrance. At first, she flinched, her body responding to the sudden intrusion and the not quite sufficient preparation, but the slight burn faded quickly. His fingers found her clit again, his other hand sweeping up to cup her breast, which he squeezed. That combined with his girth stretching her did the trick, and she tucked her ass into the hollows of his hips, impaling herself on him, relaxing her muscles to take him inch by inch. The flames of his heat flashed up her spine, licking her body from the inside out just as it did his.

An animal-like groan filled the room, and it was only as Tomoe started thrusting that he realized it had been him. His ears slicked back, his tail lashing, and she swallowed every cacophonous breath and moan that erupted from him. Skin slapped against skin, harsh and unforgiving, her whimpers dying in his mouth as he kissed her and kissed her, until he felt like he was breathless and suffocating. But he didn’t relent.

Instead, he dug his nails into the supple skin of her breast, growls rumbling in his chest, tail snapping back and forth. Intense pleasure surged through his entire body, crashing inside of him again and again, urging him to keep going. It was so strong he didn’t even feel an ache in his back from their cramped position or the furious way he pounded her into the futon. All he could think about was how good it felt to be inside her, how deeply he could penetrate her, how close he could get to her womb.

Nanami’s lungs burned from the need to breathe, and she had to break away, Tomoe’s fang slicing her tongue in the process. It stung, but the sensation only throbbed for a moment before their other activity distracted her. She crumpled into the futon, gasping for breath, clutching at the blankets with one trembling hand. Her knuckles went white, her body locking up, jostled with every movement. It was clear that Tomoe had been engulfed by his heat, fixated on mating and only mating.

The need to dominate her overtook him. He readjusted his grip and pinned her with his body weight, thrusting faster and faster, losing himself to the wildness inside of him. Growling, he sank his teeth into her throat, capturing her in a domineering hold, his ears laid back against his head and his tail snapping. He was so close. Normally, he’d ensure her pleasure too, but when she smelled like this, when his body felt like this, he couldn’t be that unselfish.

He took what he wanted. And he relished every second of it.

A small cry left her at the sudden piercing sensation of his bite. His nails cut into her skin, leaving raked red marks behind, his teeth pinching her neck. Her breaths came as shallow pants, and she clawed at the blankets, no longer in any semblance of control, instead tossed about like a ship on stormy waters. Each thrust pounded her into the futon, and it would’ve been uncomfortable had his bite not been doing something for her. It was like he could share his heat, could flood her bloodstream with all those same feel good hormones. She cried out again.

His thrusts grew erratic, no more than the humping of an animal. Each powerful rush shot him closer towards ecstasy, until his spirit was nothing more than a bundle of nerve endings and pure, undiluted pleasure. Every inch of his being felt fuzzy around the edges, zinging with a plethora of blissful sensations, the flames inside of him roaring larger and larger. He was drenched in sweat, rivulets trickling down his temples and his sides and sticking their bodies together. 

Now each greedy breath ended in a growl, muffled by her neck. He clamped his teeth down tighter, and then white flashed across his vision, consuming him whole in an unbearable burst of fire and desire. He came harder than he swore he’d ever come in his life, all while rocking into her with abandon, nailing her deep inside. As the last spurt left him, he pushed himself against her ass, wriggling as close as possible, to ensure his seed reached her, to take comfort in the fact that not even a drop spilled out. He lay partially on top of her then, panting heatedly through his nose, his head spinning.

She shook beneath him, overstimulated and overcome by the intensity of the moment. Not once had she thought he’d actually hurt her, but it had all come out of nowhere, rough and unbridled and a little careless. Her skull felt like it was filled with cotton, her breaths sharp and staccato, her body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Although she hadn’t come, although in some ways it had been a little painful, there was this glow between them that covered her from head to toe.

It was the trust between them, she realized, her eyes fluttering shut. He could’ve snapped her like a twig, he could’ve bitten straight through her throat, and yet he hadn’t. He’d never do such a thing. Not even in a moment like this, when all his senses seemed to have left him. It was innate for him, and even if her neck throbbed a bit, even if he held her down and fucked her straight into tomorrow, his love for her would always shine through.

Besides, to know that she drove him this crazy, so much so that he lost his ability to think about anything else, was flattering. 

She laughed once, the sound shaky and breathless, and touched his arm. That gesture seemed to get through to him, at least a little bit, because he released her from his jaws. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his tail flick slowly, and when she turned her head to look at him, she found him staring at her with predatory eyes, his pupils constricted. He continued to pin her down with part of his weight, remaining inside of her, his erection having not yet softened. 

She shifted, just to keep her arm from going numb. Before she could speak, he sank his teeth into her again, a low growl vibrating in his chest. She wondered if he wasn’t done yet.

A voice in the back of his mind warned him that he should keep her still, that he should keep her in place, because just that movement might disrupt their mating. He clamped his teeth a little more firmly into her throat. Warmth and bliss followed this action, and he relaxed, secure in the knowledge that she was safe beneath him, that she’d accepted his seed. He sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes, settling in for another few moments of skin to skin contact.

This was so foreign to Nanami. Never had a man acted like this towards her. She craned her head again, trying to see him, but she only caught sight of his ears. She whispered his name in the nearest one. While he didn’t move, he did sigh, and that made her think maybe he was awakening from whatever had come over him. 

“Tomoe,” she murmured again, lighting fingertips to his arm. “Please come back to me…”

Her voice sliced through that dreamy, post-orgasm state that had fallen over him like a cloak of fog. He blinked slowly, almost feline, and his vision adjusted. The slight taste of iron stung his tongue, her pulse beating beneath the grip of his jaws. Gradually, their encounter came back to him and, with it, his senses.

As though still in a daze, he released her, lifting his head and looking at her face. Her head lay against the pillow, but she’d turned enough to meet his eyes. The moment he stared so deeply into her gaze and saw the vast love and kindness shining in it, their present reality came crashing down all at once. Each moment flashed through his mind in quick succession — how he’d treated her in bed, how he hadn’t tended to her needs — and now that he was more sane, shame filled his head.

He hadn’t been only a little out of control. He’d been entirely out of control.

Groaning a bit, ears lowering sideways, he covered his eyes with a hand. Despite his feelings, that instinct still fought against him, demanding that he remain in this coupled position with her for a moment longer. It wouldn’t matter, he thought. What mattered was getting a hold of himself and making Nanami more comfortable.

It took him a few more beats to disentangle himself from her. When he withdrew, a shock of near pain cracked up his spine, his eyes blowing wide and a gasp catching in his throat. Luckily, it faded within seconds, and then he crumpled to the bedding, pressing his face into the blankets. He felt so weak. In more than one way.

His withdrawal took her by surprise too, and she echoed his sudden breath. It didn’t really hurt, although she was a little sore. Mostly, she felt cramped, her joints popping as she readjusted her position. Now he hid away, his ears pink, and she wondered if he was okay.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, lightly touching his back. It was so hot that she nearly jerked her hand away, startled, but she refrained. After a moment, she grew used to his body heat and rested her hand between his shoulders.

When she spoke to him so tenderly, he was unable to conceal his feelings. At least she sounded all right. Miserably, he lifted his head, finding her worried face hovering above him, pieces of her hair hanging down, disheveled from its previous arrangement.

“I was too rough with you,” he murmured, reaching up to light gentle fingertips to her throat. There, he found red marks and the beginnings of a bruise, but in the golden light of late afternoon, he didn’t see any blood. Thank the gods he’d had some restraint.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, laying a hand over his, pressing it close to her neck. She offered him a smile, her gaze soft. “You didn’t hurt me.”

But did she realize how unhinged he’d been? He’d felt like no more than a common beast — and a deranged one at that. While he’d always known it was tough to fight his instincts, this moment had been far more intense than even he’d bargained for. It made him feel like he’d been tripped, the breath knocked out of him.

“I fear I will not be able to control myself any longer,” he said just above a whisper, his ears drooping. He extended his fingertips, drifting them to her chin, to her mouth. “I did not feel like myself just now.”

He’d mentioned struggling to control himself before, but she’d thought his fear had been unfounded. Now, however, it was clear he was shaken up, that even he hadn’t been expecting this kind of reaction. And she had to admit — she hadn’t experienced a reaction to mating season like this before either. At least, not one that was so intense, volatile, nearly vicious.

Back when he’d last expressed this concern, she’d thought he’d been overblowing it. She’d tried to assure him with teasing, with acceptance, with words about how she enjoyed the rougher moments they shared. And all of that was still true. But that look in his eyes from earlier… It was almost like he hadn’t even been there.

Since he seemed troubled by it, she decided to take it more seriously this time. Slowly, she sank beside him, cradling his head in her arms, holding it to her breasts. He sighed softly against her skin. “Okay, so maybe you did take me off guard a little,” she admitted. “But that’s okay. I don’t break easily. I can handle rough sex.” She gave him a squeeze. “But if it doesn’t feel good to you, then that’s a problem. I want you to be comfortable too.”

“I enjoy being rough with you,” he agreed, shutting his eyes, nuzzling her breasts. “Only when I feel I can control it. My senses left me, and I do not know how to ground myself when I am like this.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close. “I do not want to be one of those men. The kind of man you could not bear to lay with at the brothel.”

He was taking it too hard, Nanami thought, her heart going out to him. She squeezed him even tighter, rocking him slightly. “You’d never be like them,” she insisted, tone impassioned. “For one thing, we love each other. For another thing, you’d never hurt me. Maybe you feel like you’re out of control, but you’re not. A part of you was still in there.” When he didn’t say anything, instead continuing to cling to her, she realized it might not be enough. “You didn’t do more than I could handle. And you didn’t draw blood either. It was intense, but I’m okay.”

All he wanted to do was hold her — and to have her hold him in return. It felt almost selfish after he’d unleashed the full severity of heat onto her. And he didn’t fully understand what had happened. At least she was unscathed save for a few bruises and scratch marks. 

He exhaled, the sound shuddering. “It will likely happen again,” he muttered.

That was true, she thought. “I can take it,” she told him, speaking slowly. “I’m worried about you, though. Is there anything you can think of that’d make you more comfortable?”

“What would make me more comfortable would be to maintain my senses,” he mumbled.

A hum left her, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, her thoughts drifting to their previous encounters. The first time he’d smelled her fertility, he’d nearly pounced her, but her nervousness had kept him at bay. During their subsequent encounters, he’d been concerned about her ease of mind, her consent. She’d taken control more often recently, particularly when he got frisky. She wondered if the answer was that she should take control.

But that didn’t address the root of the problem, she realized. Regardless of who dominated who, he’d still be consumed by those feelings. What he needed was to anchor himself in the here and the now.

Wracking her brain, she revisited the other times they’d had sex. He’d seemed more himself during those times, but those moments had also been slower, sweeter. There had been passion and intimacy and connection. Sharing their love so deeply seemed to have grounded him. When she thought about what had brought him back to her now, it had been her words and their eye contact. It had to do with showing their feelings, she realized. That was more difficult to convey when she faced away from him.

Perhaps that was what they’d been missing; after all, he’d recently told her that he enjoyed watching them make love rather than fuck.

“If you’re worried about it,” she said slowly, “what if we tried a different position? Something more intimate and… Something that lets us look at each other and talk to each other. That way, you can see it’s not too much.”

At this, he pulled back to look up at her. “Do you believe that will help?”

She bit her lip, mulling over it. After a second, she nodded. “Yeah, I mean, you responded when I touched you and talked to you. And when you saw my face you came back to me.” She offered a smile, cradling his cheek in her palm.

Thinking back on it, he realized she was right. Her voice, her touch, her gaze had all reached him even through countless years of instinct, and had brought him back to personhood. “Yes, that is true,” he murmured. “Perhaps it is better for you to take control next time.”

Since he still seemed anxious about it, she nodded without protest. “Yeah, sure, but if you change your mind, you can still top me.” She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. “I guess neither of us thought it’d be like this, huh?”

“No…but I wish we could have anticipated it without putting you through such a thing.” His eyes dropped to the futon, mouth pulled in dismay.

“Well, everything’s fine,” she assured him, stroking one of his ears. “I love every part of you — heat and all.” A smile flickered over her mouth, and she shut her eyes. “You can control yourself. You’ve been doing it all along. Maybe you got a little excited tonight, but it’s okay. We’ll adjust next time.”

Somehow, it was easy to believe her words when she spoke to him in such soothing tones. He hummed, nuzzling her breast again, listening to her steady heartbeat. How had he gotten so lucky to have her as his wife?  

“Perhaps you are right,” he said. “A fox would not hurt his mate.” He kissed the side of her breast, near her sternum. “Still, I would like to take these precautions. And retain enough of my senses to make you come too.” His tail swished lightly. “I will have to make this up to you, hm?”

Thank goodness he was acting playful again, Nanami thought, exhaling softly. Then, she smiled, cutting a sly, half lidded gaze down at him. “Uh huh, sure,” she teased. A giggle escaped her, and she kissed the base of his ear. “That’s just your way of saying you want more sex, isn’t it?”

His face flushed, but her lips against his ear relaxed him. She didn’t mind, he realized. “Well, we cannot be sure that such a hurried encounter was successful, so it is best to continue mating. After all, I did not remain inside of you nearly long enough.”

Another giggle caught in her throat. “Oh, Tomoe.” She rested her cheek on the top of his head, nuzzling between his ears. “Make it up to me after dinner?”

Relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile. He scraped his fangs against her breast, his tail swishing more quickly. “I would be delighted to.”

Her lips grazed the top of his head, and he sighed, melting into her embrace for a moment longer. The embers of his heat glowed in his core, flickering and smoldering, threatening to billow high yet again. But her assurance soothed him. And when she held him like this, he felt more firmly rooted in the ground. She was his rock in every sense. And her confidence and experience would lead him. He was sure of this now.

Chapter Text

Dinner seemed to be just what Tomoe needed to relax, because he was much more his usual self afterward. The two of them did the dishes together and then bathed, taking turns washing each other. What started off as a functional, affectionate arrangement quickly took a turn for the passionate, Tomoe’s fingers raking gently through the long strands of her hair, his lips occasionally finding the slope of her neck as well as her mouth. Likewise, she caressed him just as he caressed her, until they were rinsed and ready for bed. 

Well, almost. It seemed he had his own ideas about what ready for bed meant, because one of his hands wandered over her body, sweeping over her breast and trailing down her side. At the same time, he pressed his mouth to hers, swallowing her hums with each kiss. His hand crept below the water to her waist, then farther down, his fingertips lightly grazing her clit.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, a tingle shooting up her spine. By now, all the touching and kissing they’d done had awakened her, and this last bit of stimulation made her ache for him. His thumb ran circles around her clit, his other hand cradling her cheek, and the combination of sensuality and sweetness left her weak in the knees. As he brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs, shocks of pleasure sped through her, making her toes curl. Her breathing deepened until she had to break the kiss.

“It’s gonna get cold—” she began. A small moan cut her off.

After such an intense encounter earlier, he didn’t want to subject her to further discomfort, so he withdrew his hand, gliding it along the inside of her leg until he reached her knee. This was for her benefit, he thought. With a smile, he extended his other hand to her. 

“Then get out, and I will warm you up,” he said.

A shiver rippled down her spine, but she didn’t think it was just from the cooler air gracing her damp skin. With a nod, she accepted his hand and let him help her out of the tub. Hurriedly, he draped her in a cloth and an embrace, vigorously rubbing down her body, holding her against his frame. She could feel the warmth radiating off his bare skin, and when she nuzzled into his shoulder, she could smell the freshness of the soap they’d used mixed with his natural scent. Sighing, she shut her eyes and kissed his shoulder.

Although he dried her as quickly as he could, goosebumps still rose on her arms. The moment she pressed her body to his, he decided it was time to go to bed. He stepped back and ushered her towards the futon, where a nest of blankets awaited them. For good measure, to ensure her wet hair didn’t cause her to catch cold, he launched several balls of foxfire into the air, hovering them next to the bed and providing a little extra heat. Then, he urged her to sit down.

“There, you should feel better now,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, nosing into the crook of her neck. 

As he did so, he caught her scent, and his ears perked up, his heart rate increasing. Newly born hunger flashed within him, that all too familiar burn building in his midst. It was a wonder he’d managed as long as he had without a second round tonight, but he’d released a fair amount of energy earlier. Although he’d bled out his ferocity, he couldn’t say what would happen. If he wanted to focus on her pleasure, then he should take advantage of this lull and make her come now.

Tail swaying, one hand wandering over her stomach, he asked, “Would you like to continue where we left off? You have not had an orgasm, and I would like to give you one.” He nipped her earlobe and wrapped an arm around her, his forearm resting between her breasts.

Excitement spiked behind her ribcage. Between his embrace and the foxfire, she grew pleasantly warm. His caress sent a tingle through her, and she sucked in a breath, leaning back against him. “I’d like that,” she admitted.

“Then come — sit in my lap.” He yanked her closer.

A tiny squeal escaped her, but it tapered into a giggle. She scooted back until she was sitting in his lap, enfolded in his arms. One of his hands crept to her breast, squeezing and fondling it, while his other hand continued to trail over her stomach. His mouth pressed to her neck, and she sighed, tilting her head so he could nurse her throat. His hands felt so good against her bare skin, leaving her moaning softly, her breaths deepening.

As he mouthed wetly down her throat, he let his breath play over the damp trails, drawing shivers down her spine. Each time he migrated a kiss, it was preceded by a soft smacking sound. Every kiss was deep, slow, passionate, leaving her heart pounding. She leaned against his chest and whimpered, bringing a hand down to his, holding it to her stomach.

That gesture in itself had him all but panting. He was desperate to mate. Her scent had him trembling, hardening as quickly as he had earlier that evening, his blood hot and the wild instinct inside of him demanding to be set free. It was all he could do to take his time when he wanted to pin her down and take her from behind, to plow her. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, willing himself to control it.

Gradually, he slipped his hand over her stomach, making his way past her navel. She sucked in a breath at the contact, and then he brushed his fingertips over her folds. Slowly, he began to rub circles around her clit, his lips trailing up her neck, his ears laid back. The sound of his name passing her lips as a whisper sent a tremor through his body, his breaths growing heavier. Kissing her jaw, he worked her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast.

Already, Nanami was panting, heart pounding. She arched into his hand, moaning, rolling her hips. His fingers worked sparks of pleasure up and down her legs until her feet twitched, that ache in her pelvis growing more and more insistent. Much to her surprise, when she turned her head to kiss his cheek, she met his lips instead. She melted into his touch, her feelings for him intensifying until she shook all over.

As their lips parted, he nosed her, his breath playing on her mouth. Those lips ghosted hers again, the barest sensation eliciting a small cry from her. Her toes curled, and she touched her lips to his yet again. When he pinched her nipple between a forefinger and a thumb, her back arched, another moan vibrating in her throat. He toyed with her nipple for a moment, his other hand slipping even lower, fingertips gliding through her wetness. And then, as he nuzzled her, his lips a hair from hers, he worked one finger inside of her, followed by a second.

“Un, Tomoe,” she groaned, pushing down on his fingers.

He could hardly stand it. Especially when she moaned like that. Breathing heavily, he pushed his fingers inside of her up to the knuckle, massaging all the hot spots he’d found long ago. The scent of her arousal thickened, nearly bowling him over, leaving him whimpering. He worked her harder, quicker, his mouth finding her throat. This time, he bit down on it, instinct taking over.

Since she mewled, the gesture seeming to pleasure her, he sank his teeth deeper. He wanted to leave another mark. Her gasps of ‘ah, Tomoe’ increased, until she was crying it out, the sound filling the room. By now, she was writhing, and he growled in response, holding her in his jaws, the gesture dominating. He couldn’t help himself; that animal nature had kicked in. He sucked on her skin and readjusted his hold. And she was once again marked as his mate.

It was too difficult for Nanami to speak coherently, instead whining and moaning. She broke out into a sweat, heart thudding noisily in her ears, chest heaving. His bite felt so good. She squeezed her eyes shut, hips rocking, body undulating.

The pleasure intensified until she couldn’t stand it, the tingling sensation growing. Her breaths hitched, back arching, and she froze. Whiny moans resonated in her nose, the tension between her legs reaching a bursting point. Before she could warn him, she came hard, the pleasure so blinding her limbs felt gelatin. 

Crying out, she pressed her pelvis into his hand, relishing the way he worked her so quickly, the pads of his fingers rubbing her inner walls and the heel of his hand stimulating her clit. His other hand worked her breast, massaging it, occasionally toying with her nipple. That bite of his coursed his power through her, making her feel better than she ever had in her life. Her orgasm lasted a little longer than usual, and then she went limp, whimpering.

Feeling how slick she was, her body quivering with aftershocks, filled Tomoe with pride. But, more than that, it sent tingles up and down his own spine, heat licking at his insides anew. He continued to move his fingers in and out of her wetness, his teeth clamped at her throat, his breaths coming more quickly. He could more than smell it on her; he could taste it on her too, her skin salt-laden and her arousal seeping through every pore. His entire body ached for relief, and he felt like he might lose his senses again if he didn’t do something about it.

He released her from his jaws and withdrew his fingers. Panting, he nosed into the fine hairs at the nape of her neck, hands wandering to her thighs, preparing to spread them and take her. Perhaps he would’ve pounced her had the scent of something metallic not stung his nostrils, and when he drew his lips to the indentions of his fangs, he found the taste lingering there.

He’d broken her skin again, he realized, pulling back to inspect it. It wasn’t deep, but he still pressed a soothing kiss to the marks he’d left behind. “You are all right?” He followed another kiss with a languid tongue in a vain attempt to heal her shallow wounds.

Her neck throbbed where he’d bitten her — this hot, deep, dull ache — but it was tolerable. “Yeah—” she began, then flinched. His lick stung slightly, but the heat of his tongue more than made up for it. A shiver raced through her. “Tomoe,” she breathed, turning her head to nuzzle his cheek.

“I could not help myself,” he murmured between soft kisses and gentle laps of his tongue. “You looked so adorable.” As he kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder, he slipped his hand farther between her legs, mapping out her folds and tracing her entrance.

Her feet twitched as his fingers brushed over her folds and labia, spreading her wetness. He avoided her clit, instead massaging every other part of her. “Mm, that feels nice.” Already, she was getting worked up again and, based on his erection bumping her ass cheek and his exhalations falling more heavily on her shoulder, he was ready as well.

“Yes? Would you like to come again? Because I would love to please you,” he murmured. He paused, drawing his tongue from her shoulder up her neck, making his way to her ear. “You are twice as adorable when you are in pleasure.”

Her face flushed and a giggle escaped her as he called her twice as adorable. Smiling wryly, she teased, “See, this is why I married you. You want me to come as much as you want yourself to come.”

He purposely laid his ears back. “Is that all?” he huffed, injecting mock offense in his voice, but he couldn’t stop the way his tail swished, mirth bubbling inside of him.

“No, of course not.” She tilted her head back, bringing one arm around his neck, hand finding his ear. Another giggle escaped her as her light touch elicited an involuntary flick. “I married you because you’re cute, and you’re a sweetheart, and I love you.”

His face grew warm and he bit his lower lip. “You are such a fool,” he murmured, but his lips quirked in a smile, affection tracing his words. “But you are a beautiful fool. My fool.” Tilting his head down, he pressed a warm kiss to her mouth. “I love you so.”

With a hum, Nanami nuzzled him and then returned his fleeting kiss. “I love you more.”

“Doubtful.”

Their lips met again and, this time, they held the kiss. He continued to work his hand between her legs, pressing the heel of it to her clit. As she twitched her hips in response, tiny hums resonating from her mouth into his, his impatience nagged him. She was already wet, the voice in his head told him. They could mate now. Even so, he shushed himself, ignoring that growling ferality that lurked at the edges of his mind. He was greater than that beast.

The smacking sounds of their kisses increased, interspersed with his heavy breaths and her soft moans. Her wetness coated his fingers anew, and her aroma thickened. The next time their lips met, he pressed his mouth to hers so fiercely that he nearly bit her, their teeth clashing, devouring each other. For a moment, they held it, until the demand sprouted from a whisper to a roar, and his instinct urged him forward.

With a sharp inhale, he broke the kiss. His half-lidded gaze met her dreamy one, a thin string of saliva attaching their lips, their breaths mingling harshly in the space between them. This position was unsuitable; he’d told her he wanted to look at her, to kiss her freely, to exchange words of love with her. Because making cubs wasn’t just about satisfying the inner voices of the ancestors before him. It was about moving forward, creating this life that the two of them had been building so fastidiously, making her the mother of his children.

“If you would like to mate, then face me,” he said.

In an instant, the atmosphere between them shifted, the silent bubble they’d enclosed themselves in bursting. She blinked, as though awakening from a long-lived dream. His eyes reflected the yellow glint of the oil lamps, a deeper violet than usual, overcast with hazy lust.

Would he lose himself again? At first she wondered, but then she recalled their conversation, and she realized — this was his way of maintaining control.

Wordlessly, she twisted in his arms until she faced him. She slipped one leg on either side of him, stretching them out at first, straddling him until his erection rested against her pelvis. His breaths quickened, and she watched him swallow hard, his pulse visible in his neck. Smiling, she draped her arms around his neck and tilted her head.

“Well, I’m facing you,” she teased.

“Are you rushing me?” he retorted, the corners of his mouth curved upwards. 

He barely heard her uttered response, instead fixating on her small, perky breasts and hardened nipples. He leaned forward, cupping one of her breasts, kissing it. A sigh escaped her, and he migrated to her nipple, shutting his eyes and touching his lips to it in a featherlight kiss.  He finished with a slight flick of his tongue, and then drew a delicate trail of kisses up her chest to her collarbone, her collarbone to her jaw. She lifted her chin, her eyes shutting, her breaths deepening. Another flicker of pride rose in his chest as she murmured his name, and he morphed his kisses to deep mouthing, sucking on the fragile skin of her throat every so often.

Even if he hadn’t played with her so thoroughly, this would’ve done the trick. Chills of pleasure coursed through her, swiftly followed by a longing, insatiable heat. She wondered if it was from within herself, or something she could sense from Tomoe. Whatever its source was, it spurred her on, and she pressed his erection to her clit.

“Tomoe,” she whispered, rolling her hips in slow, smooth motions. She shivered at the feeling of his erection gliding over her, relishing how warm and firm it was, appreciating the light friction of skin against skin. Unable to help it, she rubbed against his length with greater fervor. “Please…”

He had reached his limit. At the combination of her urging and his innate drive, he acquiesced, placing a hand under her thigh and ass cheek, pushing up. She took the cue, shifting to her shins and knees, holding herself up over him. In the next instant, she lighted her hand on his erection, lining it up with her entrance, sending fresh excitement through him. A second later, she’d worked the tip into her entrance, her muscles encasing him bit by bit. His vision all but went white, and then he saw stars, a guttural moan wracking his body. He gripped the back of her thigh.

The cut of his nails into the tender skin of her ass cheek mingled with the dull, aching satisfaction of being stretched. The two sensations choked her of her breath, and she trembled, struggling to maintain her balance. Slowly, she sank down and penetrated herself with his erection.

She hooked an arm around his neck and sat in his lap, his erection now fully sheathed inside of her. Gods, she was so horny, she thought, a low moan rumbling in her throat. Based on his expression — his mouth agape and his brows knitted together and his ears pinned to his head — he felt at least thrice as desperate as she did. 

Witnessing his excitement heightened her own arousal, and she rolled her hips, rising and sinking on his erection in slow, minimal movements. Even though he wasn’t touching her clit yet, she couldn’t help the way her body quivered. How could something so simple feel so good?  

She moaned out loud, exaggerating her movements until they had her panting. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder. That allowed her to scoot closer on his lap and, with another adjustment of his hips, she could rub her clit against his waist.

Each motion sent liquid flames through his veins. He wanted to touch every part of her, to become and know every inch of her. Again, he slid a hand up her torso to cup her breast, kneading it, letting her nipple brush his palm. Eyes half shutting, he kissed the side of her head, the place behind her ear, the junction of her jaw and throat. After each kiss, he gifted her a tiny nip, ending at her earlobe. Her moans increased, her heart pounding in his palm, and based on the way she arched, she had caught fire too.

And, gods, heat was so much more fun when she shared it with him. How it felt to mate with his woman when she was fertile, when her thirst for him was similarly unquenchable. A new door had opened to him, and after tasting something as sweet as this, he didn’t think he could go back. Fireworks burst behind his slow blinking eyelids, and he lost himself to pleasures he’d never known before.

The ache in her core intensified, his touch like bellows to her desire. Sparks of pleasure raced up and down her legs, and she whimpered, struggling to maintain a steady, easy pace. As good as this felt, she wanted it to be more than fucking, more than mating — she wanted to nurture this spiritual connection she had with him. The sensation of him nuzzling the top and side of her head brought a smile to her face, and she lifted one hand to the back of his head, slowing her movements with the last scrap of self-control she had left.

Already, he’d broken into a sweat. His breaths sounded loud even to him, and he embraced her, crushing her small frame against his own, pleasure building in his abdomen, his muscles tightening and relaxing. Her pert nipples brushed his skin every so often, serving to turn him on even more. They were mating, he thought, shaking and wrapping tendrils of her long hair around his elegant fingers. And her ever blossoming scent drove him wild.

Momentarily, she couldn’t speak, her mouth falling open, her fingers slipping through the strands of his hair. A few keens escaped her, and she grinded against his waist impossibly hard, appreciating the firm pressure of his erection inside of her — all the way inside of her. At her womb, she thought, gripping his hair. A tiny cry left her, a shallow and unsatisfying orgasm rippling through her.

“Nanami,” he murmured, pulling her hair in return.

He felt her flutter around him a few times, the varying pressures and sensations over his length pushing him near delirium. He was so far inside of her; he couldn’t go any deeper. Visions of throwing her to her back, driving inside of her, spilling his seed at her womb danced before his eyes. Perhaps he would’ve pushed her down too, his hand finding her shoulder, claws digging into her skin in preparation, but then her gaze caught his.

Her eyes were so soft, so warm, so kind. They told him to come back to her, to stay with her, to share in this moment of love making. Exhaling, he leaned his forehead to hers, grounding himself in the gentle wash of her aura.

For a moment, she thought she might’ve lost him, his gaze going dull and faraway, something near predatory in the tense of his muscles, like he’d prepared to pounce. Now, as she stared into his eyes — those endless amethyst irises with flecks of lavender and violet, those narrow fox pupils — she saw in him the man she knew and loved. 

As she continued to stare into their depths, she noticed his pupils dilate again, rounding out, softer now. Her heart beat more strongly, her feelings ballooning. She drew her hands up and down his chest and shoulders, exploring the muscle and sinew there.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the tip of her nose bumping his cheek.

“Yes, of course.” He pecked the corner of her mouth.

Reaching up, she stroked his hair and one of his ears. “I’m not gonna lose you, am I?”

In response, he touched his lips to hers, the contact light and tender. She melted under his fingertips, and in the following second, she returned the pressure. Briefly, he held it, brushing his thumb back and forth over her collarbone, his grip loosening until his hand was no more than resting on her shoulder. He kissed her until the heat between them began to flicker too brightly again, and then he pulled back.

“No. I will always come back to you,” he murmured, nudging her nose with his. “As long as I can look at your eyes when I lose myself — and know that you are with me.” Turning his head, he kissed her arm, until her touch slipped to his cheek. He mouthed at her wrist.

She’d never been more in love, she thought, her chin quivering and her smile widening to the point of painful. An airy laugh fluttered from her, and she nuzzled him. “Love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you,” he replied.

Newly assured, she braced herself on his shoulders. She rode him with firm, slow movements, appreciating how it felt to be stretched, to be filled so deeply. This was so intimate, she thought, digging her nails into the backs of his shoulders. 

After a few beats, she found she wanted to pleasure him more, and so she gently urged him to lower his head. Just for a moment would be fine, she thought. In this position, she could urge him to meet her gaze any time she felt like he might drift away again.

As her lips found the base of his ear, her passion grew, her feelings for him overflowing. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she mouthed at his ear with fervor, drawing a moan from him.

Chills ran up and down his spine, chased by a flash of heat. Goosebumps prickled his skin, and he rocked up against her the best he could, matching her pace and rhythm. His lips found her shoulder, working it in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, following her collarbone to the base of her throat. At the same time, her lips ghosted a trail up the edge of his ear, making him gasp and tremble. 

Grazing his fangs against her throat, he groaned her name, breathless. Her tongue drew a languid stroke over his ear, and his body locked up. He dug his nails into her skin, fingertips twitching, breaths heated pants against her throat. His tail lashed, hips smacking against her ass with his erratic movements, and he pinched a bruise into a small patch of her neck with his teeth. Only as he heard her inhale sharply did he realize he was in danger of spiralling; quickly, he released her, forcing his grip to loosen.

The next time he mouthed at her, it was gentler, with a drag of his fangs over her skin. He was in control.

For a second, she felt a small swell of worry — worry that he’d lose himself, worry that he’d be disappointed in his reaction. Maybe she shouldn’t have broken eye contact, she thought, pausing her kisses. But then he relaxed, and she sighed, her own shoulders sagging. He was all right, she decided. She resumed kissing his ear, relishing his mouth covering every inch of her throat.

Fangs grazed her skin. The sensation of his sharp teeth made her quiver, her heart thumping wildly. To return the favor, she nipped at the shell of his ear, smiling at the tiny half yipe, half whine that caught in his throat. That had felt good to him, she thought, recognizing the sound. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not, but his erection felt even harder inside of her now.

Wriggling her hips, she peppered the shell of his ear with kisses, lightly scraping her nails against his scalp. The resulting shudder through his body was worth it. She nuzzled her nose into the soft fur at the base of his ear, breathing in his scent. That wild scent of earth and forest, the one she found only at his ears and tail, the one that reminded her that he was a fox. It wasn’t unpleasant, though, instead turning her on even more. She ran her tongue up the edge of his ear, then kissed the tip of it, resulting in another involuntary flick. A giggle left her.

Once more, his fangs scraped her throat in no more than a subtle hint. It was time to prompt him. “Mark me,” she whispered.

Although he’d bitten her earlier, the marks at her throat from their previous two encounters gave him pause. Her skin was black and blue and smudged with thin lines of dried blood. Already, he’d gone farther than he’d anticipated, and he felt so good, so strongly for her, that he struggled to restrain himself.

But then she hummed and purred in his ear to bite her, and he couldn’t turn the offer down. Her scent intensified, surrounding him and drawing him in. He all but salivated, that voice thrumming inside of him, demanding he hold her by the throat like he had before. It was too tempting, especially when she gave herself to him so freely, when she expressed her pleasure, when she played with his ears like that. Her fingertips found the ear she’d been teasing before, scratching the base of it, sending delirious tingles through every nerve in his body. He couldn’t help himself.

He sank his fangs into the tender skin at the base of her throat, where it joined her collarbone. Running his tongue over her neck, he sought out her pulse. Once he’d found it, he readjusted his jaws until he avoided it entirely. Just in case he lost control in the throes of pleasure. Even so, he increased the pressure gradually, until he had a firm grip on her without making himself uncomfortable. Only when she moaned and whispered his name in his ear could he relax, fully enjoying this intimate act.

The amount of trust she had in him was astronomical, especially to allow him so close to such a vulnerable part of her body. Panting through her nose, she mouthed wetly at the base of his ear, hips moving quicker. Now that he had adjusted his position, she couldn’t rub her clit against his waist anymore, but she didn’t complain. Not when she felt like this.  

It turned out she didn’t need to complain because, in the next moment, he seemed to realize this as well. Continuing to hold her in one arm, he moved the other hand between their bodies, splaying his palm over her waist, delicately brushing his thumb back and forth over her clit. Her thighs tensed, feet twitching, and she gasped sharply in his ear.

“That feels good.” She nuzzled his ear, then bit the base and the edge of it. The resulting whine filled her with pride, and she lightly sucked on the edge of his ear, ignoring the several hairs that stuck to her tongue. “I still love playing with your big ears.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he released her from his canines long enough to respond. “Is that so?” He nosed her throat.

“Yeah, they’re really big,” she purred, teasing.

Another chuckle. He drew a hot tongue along the tendon in her neck, following it to her jaw and ending with a flick. In response, her teeth scraped his ear, and he whimpered, shivering. His ears were so sensitive. And she always knew how to make them tremble. 

“I suppose they are,” he finally managed, and he swallowed hard.

Clamping her legs around his waist, she blushed, grinning and rubbing her face in his fur. “I love you so much,” she said again, pressing his head close. “Including your big ears and fluffy tail.”

Humming, he touched his lips to the junction of her jaw and ear. “My fluffy tail?” He nipped her earlobe and, smirking, wrapped his tail around her hips, drawing a giggle from her. His free hand wandered sensually over her back.

“Yeah, it’s so soft.” She smiled dreamily, melting into his touch, sinking into the plethora of sensations he offered her.

Maybe she hadn’t told him in so many words, but she enjoyed it when he hugged her with his tail. It felt soothing, secure, comfortable — like being wrapped in a thick, soft blanket in the midst of winter. She could hide away in it forever.

As she rode him, he rubbed her with greater intent, appreciating the soft skin beneath his thumb. He watched himself disappear inside of her, her folds shifting with her movements, her wetness glistening on his length in the lamplight whenever she lifted up. Another flare of heat roared through him, spurred on by the sight, by the knowledge that he was so close to her womb. Shivers wracked his body, heart pounding in his ears, and he touched his lips to her collarbone, followed by her throat, hunger whetted anew.

The sudden sensation of his tongue firmly tracing her pulse had her body jolting, the waves of pleasure intensifying. “Tomoe—” she began, but her breath hitched noisily as his fangs scraped either side of her windpipe.

He bit down into her throat, but once the surprise had receded, she found his hold was gentle. The cut of his teeth heightened her pleasure. Keens escaped her, her thighs burning as she picked up the pace, rolling her hips and gliding on his erection with abandon, with passion. With each downward movement, she felt the tip of his erection hit something so far inside of her that it made her flinch — but the bursts of pleasure it elicited were more than worth it.

Already, he could smell her arousal growing to that point of no return, could feel her body heat rising around him. Perhaps she didn’t notice, but he caught the slight tremors in her muscles, the telltale signs that she was so wound up she was close to bursting. Panting raggedly against her throat, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her clit, all while bucking up against her. Her thighs quivered at his hips, and she moaned. Before his frustration could mount, she moved on him more quickly.

“Ah, Tomoe,” she breathed, tilting her chin up. Her hand found his ear again, massaging it firmly, her other hand braced on his strong shoulder. Her entire body felt so taut, and that tension built just below her navel, prickling over her skin. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna…” A choked sound escaped her, cutting her off. The second she’d recovered, she whimpered, “I’m gonna come.”

It seemed the biting had done more for her than she’d let on, he thought, holding her tighter with his free hand, digging his nails into her side. Her moans grew in volume, resounding off the walls. As much as he wanted to come too, he’d already decided — he was going to finish inside her while she was on her back, to ensure his seed reached her womb. He was going to impregnate her tonight no matter what, he thought.

The same mental images flew through his mind unbidden — images of her on her back with her legs slung over his shoulders, of him pounding her mercilessly. He wanted control; gods, he wanted control. He wanted that assurance that she’d remain beneath him until he was done. He wanted assurance that he wouldn’t spill out of her.

Not yet, he inwardly begged as pleasure zinged through his entire being. He panted through his nose, willing himself not to come, not until he could get her into the optimal mating position. He bled the excess energy by thumping his tail from one side to the other, continuing to work her clit in rapid, firm motions.

That sharp tingle increased and she squirmed in his hold, breaths loud and shallow. Sweat beaded over her skin, her entire body feeling like it was on fire. Her movements grew sloppy, uncoordinated, much too hard. Whimpers and cries intermingled, and then he stroked her clit just right, and she arched against him, calling out his name. 

Her entire body shook with her orgasm as she spasmed around him, her nails digging into the base of his ear, drawing a whine from him. Her other hand clawed at his strong upper back, raking red lines across it. She keened and moaned until the last pulsation. Afterward, her legs felt so weak she almost couldn’t hold herself up anymore. She slumped against him.

It was time, Tomoe thought, mouth dry. Her scent billowed to him in tendrils and waves, sharpening every sense. His ears tilted forward, catching the swift cadence of her heart, and he felt her desire lingering in every tremor of her body. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to finish now.

His senses fled from him, instinct and the need to be dominant taking over. A growl escaped him, and he grasped her in clawed hands. In an instant, he’d flipped her to her back and pinned her to the futon. Pupils blown wide, breaths sharp and short, he held himself over her on his hands and knees, only partially aware of her shock. He lowered himself on top of her, groaning as her hot skin met his.

Was she losing him again? His gaze was unfocused, and he mounted her straight away, his tail flicking back and forth. Another low growl vibrated in his throat, his fangs on display. And she wasn’t afraid, but she didn’t want it to end like this, so she slipped a hand through the back of his hair and rubbed the base of his ear.

“Tomoe,” she whispered, nudging his chin with her nose. She only did this for a second before she lay back, trying to catch his gaze.

Unable to help it, he pressed his pelvis to hers, grinding desperately. He broke out into a heavier sweat, heart pounding suddenly, all those powerful hormones rushing through his veins. Groaning, he rutted against her, but then her hands cupped his cheeks and tilted his head so they made eye contact.

“Look at me,” she said softly.

Something within him shifted. He was with Nanami, his wife, his life mate. Pausing, he panted each breath, staring down at her, letting her brush her thumb over his cheek and the corner of his mouth. She smiled at him, and her sweet nature permeated layers upon layers of instinct. The fog lifted. 

“That’s it,” she murmured, cradling his cheeks. “That’s the Tomoe I know.”

His ears relaxed and he couldn’t help but smile as well, his own gaze softening. “Thank you,” he said simply, bumping his nose to hers.

Now that he’d regained control, she allowed herself to enjoy the moment. She drew a foot in a long, luxurious stroke up his leg until she reached his hip, and then she hooked it over. Her other leg followed suit. At the same time, she rubbed the base of his ear and pressed her fingertips to the erogenous zones there. Although unspoken, the message was clear. He should finish mating with her.

That was the signal, he realized, mouth dry. Trembling, he pushed inside of her all at once. Instantly, lightning cracked up his spine and radiated out into every limb, her muscles surrounding him and her wetness gliding over every inch of the most sensitive part of his body. He groaned. Her heat felt even better now. And he wasn’t going to last long.

As she hummed her appreciation, he shifted farther up her body so he could better reach her lips, so he could rub himself against her clit. He didn’t want to lose himself again. So he touched his lips to hers, and then he melted into a searing kiss, capturing her mouth with his completely.

Her feet jerked at his back, and then she whimpered into his mouth. Although he wasn’t sure if she could come again, he still grinded against her until she squirmed. Since she reacted favorably, he imagined it felt good, so he deepened their kiss, fingers tangling in her hair. The tension filled his pelvis. And he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting with force, with burning passion.

A moment of this stimulation was all she needed to feel good again. It was incredible how he could give her multiple orgasms. Until she’d met him, she’d never expected to have even one from sex. Hums escaped her and she rocked up to meet him, rubbing herself against the base of his erection and his waist, a fresh tingling sensation mounting within her. He was so far inside of her. And he hit all the spots that gave her delirious pleasure.

When she reacted like that, so eager for him, it drowned his sanity out with excruciating pleasure. The moment neared, and Tomoe felt like the flames of his heat had surrounded him, lighting his whole body on fire. Sweat poured off of him, his thrusts punctuated and fervent and erratic, cut breaths and growls leaving him. That instinct pushed his senses back, even though he faced her, even though he kissed her. Maintaining eye contact in such a state was impossible; he couldn’t keep his eyes open, his brow knitted in intent as the tension rose.

Her muffled cries filled his mouth, and she couldn’t help but match his thrusts, bucking her hips the best she could. He growled, fangs digging into the sides of her mouth, and he pinned her down with his own body, rutting against her furiously. With his pelvis grinding against her clit, the sensations were much more intense, flooding over her in a rush of hot blood and desperation. She clawed at his back, returning his bite with one of her own, her teeth embedding in his lower lip. Now her breaths were as harsh as his, mingling in heated puffs, sweat sticking their bodies together. He was close, she realized — and much closer than she was too.

A groan left him as her teeth sank into his lip, and he couldn’t help but pound into her. As much as biting usually turned him on, there was something too dominating about the action in this moment, and that primal beat urged him to take back control from his mate. He tore his lip from her teeth and then bit down on the tender spot connecting her ear and her jaw. She cried out, arching up, raking nails down his back in a way that sent delicious shivers up his spine. He tightened his fingers in her hair, tugging at it, his vision tunneling.

She should’ve been more diligent in keeping him with her, but it was hard to think straight when he made her feel so good. And a part of her wanted to toy with him, to drive him crazy, to delight in his need for her and only her. She couldn’t help but tease him a little. Especially when she felt equally needy.

Between gulps of air, she spoke to him, her voice wavering in and out. “Come inside me. Get me pregnant.” She clung to him and keened, clenching her thighs at his hips, her ankles crossed at his fiercely whipping tail.

His heart thumped extra hard, every muscle locked in tension. She kept whispering variations of that sentiment with her chin tilted up to give him access to her throat. While the sex had grown a little rough, to feel her trust surrounding him and to feel her love creeping up every inch of his spirit made him melt. He succumbed completely — both instinct and adoration twining together into the most potent combination possible.

“Nanami—” he groaned, pressing his body flush to hers, embedding himself deeply inside of her. And when he could go no farther, he lost it.

A half growl, half moan shuddered from him, the sound so loud that it filled the house. His back arched inward, concave, and the tension within him burst. He pulsed inside of her, and he pumped his hips desperately, riding out those overwhelming waves of pleasure. With each thrust, he penetrated her as far as possible, pushing his pelvis to hers until their hip bones knocked together unpleasantly. He dug his toes into the futon for leverage, holding her in place, ensuring he was as close to her womb as he could get. 

“Oh, gods,” she cried out, her entire body quaking vigorously. “Oh, gods.” 

She tore at his back with her nails, her hands slipping continuously, discomfort and pleasure mixing in equal amounts. He’d hit her cervix a few times. And that didn’t feel too good, but something else did, something inexplicable and rooted in a part of an ancestral mind she’d never been aware of before. Was this his heat affecting her?  

She clutched the backs of his shoulders, whimpering, using powerful thighs to hold him close to her. And at the sensation of him filling her, her muscles contracted around him. Now she was near her peak too.

His orgasm lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and he switched from harsh thrusts to micromovements, gliding inside of her just enough for stimulation, his erection already hyper sensitive. But she wasn’t done yet, thrashing beneath him, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. That turned him on anew, smelling her arousal for him, smelling her own heat. He kept her body covered with his own, and he rubbed his pelvis against her clit, goosebumps prickling his skin from a combination of the aftershocks and the satisfaction of sharing in her pleasure.

She squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in the crook of his warm neck, crying out and moaning. His name passed her lips over and over, and she grinded against him in return, the friction eliciting electric sparks over every inch of her lower half. Her toes curled, and at the ticklish brush of his tail over her feet and calves, she couldn’t bear it anymore. 

The sensations doubled, and she pressed her face to his collarbone, stifling her shriek. Each throb made her legs jerk, so powerful that she held her breath. She gritted her teeth, coming around him so hard, fixated on his girth and the depth at which he penetrated her. She could feel him all the way inside of her.  

Nothing could compare to the feeling of her coming around him, her muscles fluttering, teasing him. He dug his claws into his palms, fingers wrapped around the strands of her hair, working her with those tiny thrusts through the end of her orgasm. It was just enough to build him up in his heightened state, in his heat, and he swore he felt her milk another tiny spurt from him in the form of a shallow orgasm. He grunted, body jolting, but it was over in an instant. Then his energy was spent, and he collapsed on top of her, his heart thudding and his breathing labored.

Finally, she exhaled, the final few shudders wracking her body. She welcomed his weight on top of her, no matter how uncomfortable, because she wanted nothing more than to be close to him after sharing such an intimate encounter. Sighing, she nosed against his warm skin, breathing in his wild scent, feeling his ribcage expanding and contracting against her. She’d never felt more in love in her life. And she hoped that this encounter would lead to her carrying his child, because it’d felt perfect, and to know that their child had been conceived in such love and passion… She sighed again, bathed in those bonding feel-good hormones.

As she came down beneath him, he remained on top of her, keeping his erection fully inside of her to ensure he didn’t spill out prematurely. His seed would reach her womb, and they’d have cubs, he thought, still shaking on top of her, sinking a fang into his lower lip. Although he’d stayed in position with her earlier that night, the moment had been sullied by the loss of his senses, by his concern for her. Now that they could bask in this moment uninterrupted, he found that it felt almost as deliriously good as coming had, which was something that he’d never experienced before. 

Soft moans left him, edged with low purrs, and he stroked her hair, relishing the skin to skin contact with his mate, with his wife. He wanted to stay there forever, floating on this cloud of bliss and pleasure, as entwined with her as he could physically get. Another whimper left her, and she shifted beneath him, but he held fast to her.

“Just a few more minutes, my love,” he breathed, nosing into her hair.

It was a little uncomfortable, but Nanami also wanted to stay there in his arms, holding his body so close to her own. Breathing in as deeply as she could, she nodded, squeezing him. “Okay.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut. “I love you.”

A smile flickered over his mouth, a chuckle sounding in the back of his throat. “And I, too, love you,” he murmured, lips brushing over her hair.

They remained like that in silence for several minutes more, occasionally kissing each other, her hands wandering over the broad plane of his back and his fingers weaving through her hair. It was the most peculiar sensation, to be flooded with pleasure from lying where he was — but it was a different kind of pleasure. It didn’t work up his tension; it didn’t make him want to pound her into oblivion, instead lapping gently over him like a calm lake. 

He only held her, breathing deeply, his body filled with a glowing warmth that was comforting, that soothed the wild fox inside of him. Eventually, that sensation faded, bit by bit until it had disappeared entirely. He blinked as though awakening from a long sleep, and then he lifted up on his arms, halfway sliding out of her. Their eyes met, and he couldn’t help but smile at her expression, her cheeks tinged pink and her gaze filled with something so soft and dreamy.

For a moment, they only stared into each other’s eyes, his length partially inside of her. A part of her wished it wasn’t over, because keeping him inside of her after mating had been the most intimate experience she’d ever had. She started to clench her muscles, to keep him there, but he flinched slightly. Realizing he was too sensitive, she relaxed, letting him pull out the rest of the way.

A small hiss passed through his teeth as her folds glided over his half erection, needle like sensations prickling his legs. It passed as soon as he’d withdrawn completely, and then he sighed, his muscles aching and fatigue settling over him heavily. As much as he wanted to collapse beside her, he felt the need to clean up a bit. So he forced himself from bed, staggering to the bathtub.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her lift her head, but it seemed she was too weak to get up. It was better she lie there anyway, he thought. “Stay put,” he told her, using the foxfire he’d conjured to heat the water, just enough until it was warm. 

Once he’d extinguished his foxfire, he took the cloth they’d used to bathe, musing to himself that the tables had turned. Now he was the one caring for her like she’d cared for him at the brothel. After dipping the cloth in the water, he returned to her bedside, and began by lovingly wiping her inner thighs.

Initially, she tensed, expecting a cold cloth. But then the heat met her skin and she relaxed entirely, blinking lazily and watching his face. He wiped down her thighs, her folds, her pelvis, and then followed suit, washing himself. She bit her lip to contain her grin, her eyes dancing as she thought — he’d returned her favor of a sponge bath from long ago.

As soon as he was done, he tossed the cloth aside for later, too tired to clean up any more. Slowly, he crawled into the futon and then arranged the blankets around them in a makeshift nest. There, he curled around her and enclosed her in his arms, his tail curving over her hip, adding to the protective embrace. He sighed, and then he nipped at her jaw line, following it with a tender kiss.

A giggle left her at his love bite, and she scooted back against him, letting him spoon her, safe in his arms. Truthfully, she felt more than a little vulnerable right now, although she didn’t say so much. It felt good to be held, to be comforted, to have him watch over her. He’d watch over their children one day too, she thought, lighting a hand to her stomach, just below her navel.

Much to her surprise, his hand covered hers. She craned her neck to look at him, finding his eyes half lidded and his ears relaxed. He smiled, and he kissed the bridge of her nose, making her blink.

“You are too adorable,” he murmured, delighting in her quiet laugh.

“You are too,” she replied, nudging his nose with her own.

He curled around her a little tighter, taking comfort that she was secure in his arms. Now that they’d properly mated, he found himself more protective of her than he’d been in his entire life. It made him want to stay by her side, to take care of her every need tenfold. He’d never let her go.

The way he held her elicited fresh emotion within her, all those feelings swelling to a crest like an ocean wave. They crashed inside of her and, suddenly, she found her eyes stinging a bit. But she smiled widely, so much so that her cheeks hurt, and she was filled to the brim with love and elation. How thankful she was to have him as a partner.

“I’m glad it was you,” she said, touching his forearm. At his questioning hum, she clarified, “I’m so glad you’re going to be the father of my children.”

He couldn’t help his own smile. “And I am glad you will be the mother of my cubs,” he echoed. He rested his head against hers, his eyes falling shut. “Thank you, Nanami.”

With that, they lapsed into another comfortable silence, holding and idly stroking each other. In time, exhaustion got the better of both of them. Tomoe was the one to fall asleep first, his grip loosening ever so slightly in rest. She only basked in this contact for a few moments before she, too, fell asleep. They were safe here. And their cubs would be too.

Chapter Text

After such an emotional and passionate night with Tomoe, Nanami had a feeling that she’d gotten pregnant. It hadn’t quite been two weeks, so there was nothing to go off of yet except intuition. She didn’t feel much different — albeit a bit more tired — but given the late nights she’d had combined with a flurry of activity around the teahouse, she wasn’t too surprised. Still, despite never having been an early riser, this morning it was more difficult to get up than usual.

In fact, even after Tomoe had called her name and woken her, she considered going back to sleep. After all, Hana wouldn’t mind if she was only a couple of minutes late. She’d just started to close her eyes when Tomoe’s voice called out to her again, worry laced in his tone despite his harsh words.

“Nanami, do you intend to lie in bed all day? Your breakfast is growing cold.”

A sigh left her, and she debated whether or not she should sink beneath the covers anyway. She blinked in the grey light, her entire being sluggish, leaden. “Just a minute,” she mumbled.

At her groggy voice, Tomoe’s ears pricked up and he turned towards the screens that currently separated their sleeping area from the hearth. Over the past several days, Nanami had been waking up with headaches, and blocking out the light from the rice paper doors helped. The downside was that it seemed to keep her in bed longer, since she wasn’t as aware of the time of day. He hoped it was no more than the stress of preparing for the second harvest of the year and that she wasn’t falling ill.

“Nanami,” he called again, getting to his feet and approaching the screen. 

Carefully, he shifted it to the side and slipped past it. There, he found her lying as a lump under the covers, her head peeking out. A slight frown of concern creased his brow.

“The sun has risen,” he told her. “It is time to get up.”

Her eyes opened all the way. She didn’t have a few more minutes after all. In fact, she was late. “Really?” She shot up to a sitting position, tossing the covers off. Immediately, her head twinged, but it faded as quickly as it’d come.

Her light flinch wasn’t lost on him. He crouched by the futon, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Do you have another headache?”

“No, I’m just tired.” She offered a smile, grazing her fingers over the back of his hand. Then, she stood and opened the chest that held their clothes. She selected a plain yellow kimono and began to undress.

Slowly, he stood as well, watching her strip out of her yukata. She seemed all right if not a little quiet, but there was something different about her. And he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it gnawed at his stomach. Whatever it was, she seemed mellower than usual, and her movements were off.

“Are you certain you are not sick?” he asked.

She hesitated pulling her nagajuban on and glanced over her shoulder. A small laugh pulled from her. “I’m fine.”

“You seem very tired.”

At this, she sighed, fastening the bindings of her nagajuban. “Well, we have been pretty busy lately, huh?” 

In response, he only stared at her helplessly. Letting the matter drop, she pulled her kimono on and tied her obi around her waist. Before she could finish knotting it, the floorboards creaked behind her, and then gentle hands were fastening it. Tomoe finished with a kiss to the top of her head.

“Busy or not, you ought to take better care of yourself,” he chided. “Now come eat your breakfast.”

The prospect of food wasn’t particularly appealing right now, but Nanami followed him out of their makeshift bedroom anyway. There, in the main space, she noticed the morning sun had strengthened, no longer shyly peeking through the rice paper but glowing golden around the panes. She was even later than she’d thought, she realized. 

There wasn’t a lot of time to eat. Not to mention the scent of rice, eggs, and soup hit her more strongly than usual. Oddly enough, she found her appetite waning instead of waxing. Hopefully, it wasn’t another headache coming on. But she didn’t want to worry Tomoe, so she left this part out.

“Ah, it’s pretty late,” she said, waving her hands. “I don’t think I have time for a leisurely breakfast or anything.”

He stopped short, a bowl of rice topped with an egg in one hand. There was something she wasn’t telling him, he thought, another flare of worry stinging him. “Then we will be quick.” He pushed the bowl into her hands. “Here, eat. You must keep your strength up.”

She grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was incite rapid fire questions, so she took a few bites of rice, albeit while standing. His frown told her it wasn’t enough.

“Standing is no way to eat a meal. Sit,” he insisted, gesturing towards the mat beside him.

“Sorry, I really don’t have time.” She shoveled rice into her mouth. The egg yolk seeped over her tongue, and she found herself shuddering at the texture. Quickly, she gulped it down.

His brow tensed, and he picked at his own rice, his gaze locked on her. Although she ate, she stopped after a few monstrous bites and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. As she handed the bowl back to him, half full of rice with remnants of egg whites on the grains, he scowled. This would not do at all.

“If you are not feeling well, you should stay home.”

“I’m fine!” This time, her tone edged with irritation. “You’re worrying too much. I’m just not very hungry.”

“You were not very hungry last night either,” he griped. “Will I have to force feed you?” When she only gave him a look, he picked up the bowl of soup, which he pressed into her hands. “At least drink some soup.”

It was clear she wouldn’t get out of it without eating a little more. So she brought the bowl to her lips and sipped, hoping a few mouthfuls would be enough to satisfy him. Once she was done, she passed the bowl back to him, earning herself a side eye and a lip bitten in displeasure.

“I have to go—”

“What about your tea?” He set the bowl down and lifted the teapot. “You should drink something.”

Glancing at the rays of sunlight ghosting the floorboards, Nanami shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll drink some tea when I get to work, promise.”

“Nanami—”

“I’ll see you later, Tomoe! Thanks for breakfast.” With that, she shoved her feet into her sandals and threw the door open. Before he could protest, she hurried outside and down the path that led to the woods.

As for Tomoe, he sat in place, slack-jawed, the teapot still raised. His ears flattened and he lowered the teapot. Although breakfast that morning had been simple, humble, it still bothered him that she hadn’t eaten much. Hardly even half a bowl of rice and only a few sips of soup. That couldn’t possibly be enough to hold her for the day, even if they did have snacks and refreshments at the teahouse. It wasn’t a substantial meal. And she’d been so bad about eating lately.

Of course they were both busy, but he had a feeling her lack of appetite was the culprit behind her headaches. She might have insisted that wasn’t the case, but he’d hoped something bland would be enough for her to stomach. Whatever was going on with her, he hoped it passed soon, and that she wasn’t coming down with anything. After all, she was human, and humans were frail.

And if they were trying for cubs? She needed to be extra careful to tend to her health. As much as he didn’t want to be overbearing, she had a bad habit of overlooking her own needs.

He’d let her go for now, he thought, disgruntled. If he pushed it much more, he risked her resisting and doubling down. The last thing he wanted to do was chase after her; the very thought pulled a snorted laugh from him. He shook his head and smiled wanly to himself.

He had to admit, though — ever since they’d mated, he’d been extra protective of her. Perhaps he really was worrying too much. It could be difficult to tell when he was overblowing it — and when she had a legitimate need. Especially when she minimized everything.

With a sigh, he scraped his uneaten food and soup back into their respective containers for later, instead choosing to finish her meal so it wouldn’t go to waste. For now, he’d go about his day and tend to the house and the yard. There was a lot to be done, and not much time left to do it. 

Perhaps later he could check on her, he decided, if only to appease the clenching of his stomach and the racing of his heart. He could run errands in town as an excuse, and he could bring her something small to eat too.

He only hoped he could exercise patience until then.

—

That day was busier than even Nanami had anticipated. With another harvest season coming into full swing, visitors to their town had increased and the teahouse was doing very well. Soon, they were bound to run out of tea, though, and that meant she’d need to help Tomoe prepare the leaves he’d harvested. It looked like more late nights were on the horizon.

Even with Hana’s help, she rushed to and fro, greeting guests and speaking with traveling merchants and washing dishes. At some point, Hana whispered to her that she thought they were running low on their specialty blend, so Nanami headed into the storeroom to take stock. 

As she peered into the canisters, the sensation hit her out of the blue like a thunderbolt. Dizziness pierced her skull, filling it with cotton, and she swayed on her feet. She caught herself on the wall, watching the world double, a flash of heat and an electric surge coursing through her system. She groaned, shutting her eyes, willing the room to stop spinning.

Just like that, the sensation abated. Now she only felt weak, her limbs shaking, a cold sweat lingering over her skin. Slowly, she opened her eyes and found that the world had returned to normal. But she remained disoriented, confused. What had just happened?

A hand fell on her arm, giving her a sudden start. “Are you all right, Nanami?” Hana’s worried voice called.

Nanami turned to look at her, and a small zing like static popped in her head, eliciting a wince. “Yeah, I’m just a little dizzy all of the sudden.”

“You’re really pale,” Hana said, brow furrowed. “Maybe you should sit down.”

At first, she opened her mouth to say she was fine, but a crackle down her spine shut her up. As another swell of fuzziness encompassed her, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered that she knew what it was. She was with child. And while she and Tomoe had hoped for this outcome, now that the thought had entered her mind, she couldn’t help the way her hand fluttered to her stomach, a spike of anxiety rising in her throat. Maybe this was why she’d been feeling off lately.  

She must’ve spaced out, because a second later, a cup appeared in front of her. She blinked, dazed. Hana’s dark, concerned eyes met hers. “You really should sit down and have something to drink.”

Feebly, Nanami nodded and sank to the floor. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

She accepted the cup and, realizing it was water, took a sip. Her stomach twisted in the most peculiar way, like a knot tightened from within. Just when it became uncomfortable it, too, faded away. What the hell was going on with her body?

“Are you getting sick?” Hana asked, hovering over her. 

The fact that this sixteen-year-old girl mothered her — as much as Tomoe did — pulled a shaky laugh from Nanami. This was so backwards, she thought, eyes stinging. But she didn’t want to worry Hana either, so she replied, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Nanami took another sip of water, only for that knot to pull again. It felt like nothing she’d experienced before — not even in the form of a muscle cramp — and she wondered if it was a symptom. Or maybe it was the beginning of a serious ailment, she thought in alarm, lightly touching her stomach. Illness had claimed her mother’s life, her grandmother’s life, and her great-grandmother’s life. As far back as she was aware, the story had been the same. And if the ailment had struck her too…

Suddenly, getting pregnant seemed like it’d been such an irresponsible idea. She felt like bursting into tears or throwing up or both. And a little voice in her head asked — what if she couldn’t do this? Old insecurities bobbed to the surface, and anxiety overtook her. No, she wasn’t supposed to feel like this. She’d thought she and Tomoe had worked through it. But she couldn’t help the way her body reacted. Right about now, she wanted to crawl away to curl into a ball and cry.

Hana’s voice tore her from her thoughts. “I hope not.” Her eyes never left Nanami. A beat passed, during which Nanami nursed her cup of water, the tension in her midst pulsing. She must’ve looked ashen, because Hana added, “I think you should go home.”

Normally, Nanami would’ve protested, would’ve tried to stay at work, especially when they had so many customers. But she didn’t think she could hold herself together in front of them, especially as fears knocked around inside her head. Not to mention, her dizziness lingered, and a wave of exhaustion hit her so hard she thought she might have to lie down right there. There was a real possibility that she might faint, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good. 

She drew in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. “Okay.” She struggled to keep her voice calm.

“Are you going to be okay? Or do you need me to walk you home?” Hana asked, her fretful gaze on her.

“I’ll be okay.” Slowly, Nanami got to her feet, exhaling shakily. Her head spun, and then the sensation danced into the background. Attempting to assure Hana as well as reason with herself, she said, “Tomoe and I have been pretty stressed lately. I guess I’m not sleeping as much as I should. You know, between the second flush and—” 

She stopped herself before she could slip up and say — and trying for a baby. A grimace spread over her mouth. Maybe it really was nothing, she thought. At any rate, she hadn’t been taking care of herself as well as she could’ve been.

Hana’s brow creased, eyes large and fixed on Nanami, but she nodded anyway. “If you say so. But I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Nanami forced a tiny smile, leaning a hand against the wall. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After Hana echoed her goodbye, Nanami headed for the door, each step carefully placed. How was she going to get home? At this rate, it’d take all day. She felt like a ghost, and a dull ache settled into her bones, throbbing lightly. 

Groaning a bit, she shuffled down the dirt road towards the path that led into the forest. Ordinarily, she liked to stand on her own two feet, but right about now she found herself longing for Tomoe. She’d taken him for granted, she thought as she stumbled. If he’d been there, he would’ve wrapped her in a sturdy arm, would’ve let her lean on him, would’ve helped her get home where he’d tuck her into bed and give her something warm to drink.

Just thinking about him made her throat close up. She swallowed back a tiny whimper, feeling oddly vulnerable. Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t feel well, or perhaps it was the thought that she was pregnant, but she wanted nothing more than his presence, his comfort, his assurance. He’d take care of her, she thought, staggering into the brush. Besides, she didn’t know for sure that she was pregnant. For all she knew, it could simply be exhaustion or dehydration or a cold.

For a while, she walked down the path through the woods, making her way home. Questions she hadn’t even entertained since she’d first thrown Tomoe off came flooding back all at once. If she was pregnant, then what sort of child would she have? Would he or she be a yokai? If it was a fox — and Tomoe seemed to believe that it would be — then that meant they couldn’t use the herbalist for help. Who was going to help her give birth? Her breaths came quicker, vision blurring. She didn’t want to be alone.

“Calm down,” she told herself, focusing on her breathing, on taking one step after another. “You don’t know for sure.”  

However, her heart and her head wouldn’t listen to logic. She found herself shaking all over, that little voice in the back of her mind shouting louder and louder. She didn’t want to go through this alone; she didn’t want to be alone; she didn’t want to leave her child alone. And she didn’t know what was going on with her or her body, but if she was going to have a yokai child, then she couldn’t seek advice from anyone. No one could help her. No one other than Tomoe.

Before she knew it, she’d broken into a trot. It was the most she could muster while in this state, weakness threatening to cave her limbs in. She stumbled over roots and rocks, catching herself on slender, young tree trunks. Eventually, she closed in on the clearing, and the promise of safety gave her the boost of energy she needed. She burst through the edge of the trees.

Much to her surprise, she found a tall figure on the path from the house to the forest, heading her way. With his ears and tail hidden, recognition lagged a second, but when it hit her, she uttered a small cry of his name. She rushed to meet him, and he, too, picked up the pace towards her. She met him halfway and threw her arms around his neck, sagging against his body, shaken.

“Tomoe,” she whimpered, voice muffled by his shoulder.

As shocked as he was to see her home so early, it was soon displaced by the most powerful concern he’d felt in a long time. He enfolded her in his arms, stunned by how fiercely she held onto him. The moment she held him against her own body, he sensed an aura from her that wasn’t quite normal, that wasn’t quite her own. But the thick scent of stress and adrenaline overpowered it, all traces of anything else dissipating in the open air.

Since she’d left that morning, his intuition had continued to nag at him. No matter how hard he’d tried to go about his day, he’d fretted, pacing back and forth in the house, unable to focus on his usual chores. All he could think about was how she hadn’t wanted to eat that morning, how she hadn’t been herself in ways he couldn’t articulate. Eventually, he’d given up and decided to go into town earlier than he’d planned. However, she’d come to him instead, something that she rarely did. Maybe he’d been right to go check on her, he thought.

“Nanami, what is wrong? Are you ill?” he asked, stroking the back of her hair.

The moment he touched her in return, the moment he spoke to her, she felt like caving in. She gripped the back of his kimono, her knees buckling, his arms the only thing that kept her from dropping. His breath caught, his hold tightening; this time, she leaned into him completely. Because she felt too weak to face this on her own.

“I don’t know,” she admitted just above a whisper. Another shudder rippled through her, that same tight sensation twisting her stomach. “I don’t feel right, and I’m scared.”

She wasn’t the type to admit these things, he thought, his insides forming knots. At least, not unless it was serious. Although she should’ve seen a human healer, there had to be a reason that she’d come home instead of going to the herbalist while she’d been in town. Maybe it was an emotional ailment and not a physical one.

He released his transformation, his ears and tail reappearing. “All right, let us go inside the house.” He pulled back, leaving one arm around her for support. “Come.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist and her other hand at his chest. Her knees still felt weak, but she managed to walk the rest of the path and ascend the steps to the veranda. There, he opened the door and ushered her inside. Once they’d entered, he led her to the hearth and helped her sit. He knelt beside her, removing her sandals.

“Sorry for making you do this,” she said faintly.

He flicked his gaze up at her, her second sandal in his hand. “It is no trouble.”

As he took in her complexion, he froze. The color had drained from her cheeks, her skin ashen. Her eyes were slightly red too. Without thinking, he set her sandals aside and placed a hand at her forehead, pushing her bangs up. Her skin felt slightly warm but, given the way she’d greeted him, he deduced it could’ve been from upset. Still, not knowing made him uneasy.

After pressing the back of his hand to her cheek, he murmured, “I do not believe you have a fever. Are you feeling hot?”

“Not really,” she said. “I don’t feel cold either.”

Her eyes dropped to her lap. How could she explain it to him? It felt like it was more than a possibility, her intuition telling her in no short terms — she was pregnant. It had to be too early to tell, and she felt a little silly for getting so worked up about it when she hadn’t even confirmed it, but she couldn’t help it.

“Then what is wrong?” he prompted.

Flashing back to his comments about smelling her fertility, she wondered — would he be able to tell? She tilted her chin up, their eyes meeting, her heart pounding relentlessly. Did she want to ask? She hadn’t been planning on saying anything until she could confirm it — until she either got or missed her period — but his eyes were so soft, and he’d vowed to always support her, and he was her partner. Perhaps it was best that she told him about her hunch.

“I’m a little shaken,” she admitted in a small voice, her eyes dropping to his chest. With trembling fingers, she reached out and smoothed the fold of his kimono. Her mouth went dry, and she wondered how to tell him — whether she should be blunt or not.

Trying to be patient, he stared down at her, waiting for her to speak. However, she only ran a hand over the fold of his kimono. Now that they were inside, now that he was close to her, he caught a faint scent that resonated with him. It only took a second to place it.

His ears perked higher and his eyes widened. Their mating had been successful, he realized, his heart jumping. That scent sated something deep and instinctual inside his core, shrouding him with comfort and happiness and excitement. Briefly, all sense flew from his head and his tail wagged. Unable to help himself, he leaned in, nosing into the crook of her neck, breathing her essence in and melting in relief. He basked in the faint energy he felt emanating from her, honing in on it with all his focus. It was barely perceptible, but it was there, thrumming within her, a new life they’d created together.

Just like that, the flame inside of him flickered out. Heat had been extinguished. It surprised him enough for him to sit up, but when he caught sight of her expression, the rosy bubble he’d enclosed himself in burst. Something was wrong.

“What is wrong, my love?” he asked, doing his best to temper his feelings. Perhaps she didn’t realize she was pregnant, he thought, although she had said that she didn’t feel right. Fresh concern surfaced.

For a moment, she’d gotten the feeling that Tomoe had been pleased about something. The way he’d wagged his tail hadn’t been lost on her, nor had she failed to notice the way he’d smelled her. Maybe he did know, she thought, tears pricking her eyes. But he didn’t understand. Although she should’ve been more delicate, should’ve considered his feelings more, the words blurted from her mouth in a rush.

“Tomoe… I think I’m pregnant.” Now that she’d spoken it aloud, now that she’d made it real, she couldn’t help the tiny whimper that escaped her. “I…I don’t know why I think it. I just feel weird, and it’s like I’m not alone anymore.” She brought her hand to her stomach, beginning to tremble. “I wish there was a way I could know for sure, because I don’t think I can live with not knowing.”

As a tear trickled down the inside of her nose, Tomoe gaped at her. Of course, she’d confessed her fears at a time, but they’d gotten past that, hadn’t they? He didn’t understand why she cried now when she knew the truth. But perhaps it really was as she’d said — that it had to do with the uncertainty and not understanding why she felt the way that she did.

“You do not have to wait to know,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her close, letting her lean against his chest, resting his cheek against her head. “I can smell it. You are with child.”

He’d confirmed it. Her heart beat impossibly fast, to the point she felt dizzy again, and she couldn’t help herself. One of her hands flew to her mouth, a half whimper, half whine sounding behind it. Tears flooded her eyes, her entire body shaking. What would happen now? She didn’t think the way she felt was normal, nor did she know who to ask. The lump in her throat made it impossible to talk, and the anxiety snaked inside of her.

As the scent of saline thickened, as she sniffed audibly, his heart sank. It pierced him to see her so distraught over something they should’ve been happy about. His own joy dampened, and he stared down at the top of her head, at a loss. Did she not want the child? It made no sense to him for her to react this way when she’d climbed on him, when she’d said she wanted this, when she’d told him that she was ready.

His ears lay back, and he couldn’t help his strained tone. “Do you not want the baby?”

Stunned, she pulled back enough to look at him, her eyes watery and wide. Did he think she wouldn’t love their baby? Based on his wounded expression, it was likely he thought she might regret it. Guilt stirred in the pit of her stomach, heavy and cold.

“I do want our child!” she insisted, one hand coming to his chest, the other falling on his cheek. “I want our baby so much. It’s just scary now that it’s real.”

“Why?” he asked, ears pinned, confusion furrowing his brow. The only thing he could imagine was that her past fears had resurrected themselves. “Are you afraid that something will happen to me? Or that I will leave? I thought we had overcome that.” Just in case she didn’t understand, he added, “I am over the moon that you are having my child. This baby is very wanted.”

“It’s not that; it has nothing to do with that,” she insisted, sniffing loudly. “I know you won’t leave. I know you want our baby too.”

“Then what is it?” he interrupted, urgency in his tone.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she slipped her arms under his and clung to him. If she spoke her fears aloud, would she manifest them? At the same time, she couldn’t imagine going through this rollercoaster alone — nor did she want to. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what had happened to her mother, but to think of telling him about her dizziness left her divided between feeling ridiculous and panicked.

“I’ve never heard of anyone having the symptoms I have,” she finally admitted in wavering, whispering tones. “I don’t know how to explain it, Tomoe, but I just feel in my heart that something’s wrong.”

He blinked, squeezing her close. She wasn’t running from him or running from being a mother, he realized. Instead, she sought him out for support. Suddenly, he felt a wave of remorse for how he’d reacted to her. “What do you mean?” he probed.

The warm weight of his hands on her back, the proximity of his body to hers, the kind way he touched her gradually anchored her. She drew a few deep breaths through her nose before she answered. “My body feels weird. I don’t think this is how I’m supposed to feel. All I know is what everyone says about being sick to your stomach.”

“Are you sick to your stomach?” he asked, unsure of what to do.

“No, not really,” she said, her voice muffled by his clothing. “It feels different. Like…a rope’s being pulled in my stomach. It doesn’t really hurt, but I’m also dizzy, and I swear it feels like there’s this…this heat and it’s glowing. I don’t know how to describe it.”

As she listed her symptoms, he relaxed a little. He didn’t know much about pregnancy, but it didn’t seem abnormal to him. “Well, I can tell you that the heat and the, hm, glow is a yokai’s energy,” he assured her. “I cannot speak to the rest, but perhaps it is merely your body adjusting to our child’s energy.”

“Maybe…” Her teeth chattered a bit. “Oh, gods, Tomoe.” She buried her face in his shoulder, clutching fistfuls of his haori. “I’m scared. What if I’m really sick? What if I can’t carry the baby to term because he or she is a yokai?” She sucked in a noisy breath. “Our children are gonna be yokai, right? At least…part. Right?”

“Well, yes, our children will be full-blooded yokai,” he replied, puzzled.

“How do you know?” She tightened her grip on his clothes. If their kids were yokai, then the herbalist certainly couldn’t help, she thought, heart rabbitting.

“I can sense it from the baby’s energy,” he said, still confused. Although she’d never exhibited any discrimination over yokai before, he couldn’t understand why else she’d behave this way unless she’d been expecting a human child — or a part human child, as she’d implied. “Did you not want a cub?”

“I do want a cub,” she croaked out. “I want him or her to look like you and be strong and live for a really long time. It’s better that they’re a yokai.” She tucked her head under his chin. “I’m just worried because my family doesn’t have the best health, and if I’m carrying a yokai, will I be able to do it? What if I lose our baby because I’m a human?”

His ears lowered, sympathy flooding through him. So that was it, he thought. It had nothing to do with having a human child after all. “You have always been healthy,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “The herbalist has said you may have children without risk of complication. Will you not trust her and her experience?”

“She doesn’t have experience with yokai,” Nanami whispered, blinking rapidly. “And that means I can’t rely on her. I wish I’d thought about it. But now…I’m really scared I’ll have to do it alone.” Her breath hitched, her eyelids fluttering shut. “What if I can’t do it alone? What if I don’t know what to do? What if my body isn’t strong enough, or something goes wrong?”

“You will not be alone. I would never let you go through this alone.” He brought one hand to the back of her head, his other arm remaining tightly around her body. “We will figure it out. I will see if there is a way to create an illusion so you might have a midwife at your side without giving it away.”

“But you don’t know how to do that now, right?” Her chin quivered.

“No, but I will learn.” He kissed her forehead. “If we cannot find a human, we will find a yokai healer. Or I will deliver the child myself. No matter what happens, you will be cared for. I can promise that.”

If anyone could figure it out, Tomoe could, she decided, her eyes shutting for a few seconds. She sank into the security of his arms, the solidity of his body, and gratitude enveloped her like a warm blanket. How it felt to lean on him… And she wished she’d leaned on him sooner. Even if her fears weren’t gone, knowing she had one person she could rely on to help her made all the difference. Gradually, her tears slowed.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’re excited. I want to be excited too — and it’s not like I’m unhappy — but it’s scary.”

He shut his eyes, nuzzling her hair. “I wish you could feel the joy that I feel. Perhaps it will come with time.” Here, he kissed the top of her head. “I will take care of you, Nanami. I will nurture you and our cub, and I will protect you too. You do not have to fear.”

Pulling back, he placed two fingers under her chin, tilting it up and touching his lips to hers. A sigh passed from her mouth to his, and she returned his kiss just as gently. After a beat, he broke the kiss and nuzzled into her bangs.

“It will be all right,” he assured her.

Somehow, when he said those words to her, it was easier to believe than the voice in the back of her mind. He seemed so calm, so sure of himself, so sure of her. The faith he had in her was more than she could’ve asked for, and she found herself thinking that maybe he was right. While it would be dangerous to venture into the World Over Yonder for a yokai healer, just having that option — just knowing that there was someone who could aid her when giving birth to a yokai — made it a little easier.

“You’re so good to me,” she whispered, one of her hands drifting to his cheek, touching it affectionately. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Of course. You should believe in yourself too.” He turned his head to kiss her hand. Then, thinking better of it, that perhaps she was too emotional to admit they would be fine, he said, “Now try to relax. I will make you tea.”

“That would be nice.” She smiled feebly. Just as he was pulling away, she remembered — caffeine was off limits. Eyes widening, she grabbed the front of his kimono. “Oh, but barley tea from now on. We have to make sure our baby has every chance to be healthy.”

His startled expression morphed into a tender smile. “Yes, of course, my love.”

When he smiled at her like that, her heart melted. The way he spoke to her, the way he touched her, all reminded her of how lucky she was. And she found her fears dissipating slowly but surely. Tomoe would take care of her. He always had. And he always would.

Before heating water, Tomoe pulled out a cushion for her to sit on, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. As soon as she’d been properly seated, he turned his attention to the other problem at hand. “Have you eaten since this morning?” he asked.

She shook her head, bracing herself for a lecture. Sure enough, he frowned, immediately producing the wooden bucket which housed the rice he’d cooked for the day. She watched him scoop a generous helping into a bowl, which he then offered to her.

“Eat this,” he instructed. “And I will fix you something more substantial. But you must have something on your stomach.”

Although she wasn’t hungry, she accepted the bowl and the pair of chopsticks he offered. She began to graze on her makeshift lunch. In the meantime, he heated water with his foxfire, steam rising from the pot in mere seconds.

As he measured out barley, he snuck glances at her, ensuring she fed herself. “Eat every last grain,” he told her. “You need the energy.”

“I know, I know,” she grumbled. “I’m eating for two and all that.” She put another bite of rice in her mouth.

“Precisely.”

He removed the pot from the fire and put the barley in it, leaving it to steep. Then, he busied himself with drawing another pot of water, which he set over the fire. This time, he settled down to cut vegetables and trim meat for a quick and more nutritious meal. 

“Promise me you will eat a bowl of stew,” he said, placing onions on a board and beginning to chop them.

“You’re gonna fuss over me from now on, aren’t you?” she asked, poking at her rice.

He finished chopping the onions and scraped them aside, then gave her a pointed look. “Of course I am going to! My dear wife is pregnant. Do you expect me to neglect you?”

A small laugh escaped her, and she shook her head. “I guess not.”

“I will never neglect you,” he continued, now chopping an eggplant, his gaze fixed on the task. “I wish for you and our cubs to be healthy.”

She smiled softly to herself, nibbling her rice again. She really had nothing to worry about. With Tomoe being as meticulous and thoughtful as he was, she was sure to be well cared for even if she did get a little sick. The fact that she had a partner who cared so much, who’d push her to take care of her body even when she forgot in the chaos of life, calmed her.

Perhaps this was all she’d really needed — reassurance, rest, and food — because by the time the stew was ready and she’d had tea, she felt much better. Her body pains faded along with her dizziness, and she felt a little silly for making such a big deal out of it. Maybe she’d just pushed herself too hard, she thought, spooning stew into her mouth. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since that morning, so of course she would’ve felt under the weather. She’d have to make more of an effort to care for herself now that she was pregnant.

She’d just finished her lunch when he sat beside her, offering her another cup of tea. With a tiny word of thanks, she accepted it. After taking a few sips, she shifted to lie on the floor, placing her head in his lap. His hand fell to the top of her head, and he stroked her hair.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, slipping his fingers through her hair.

She nodded against his thigh, exhaling as he gingerly scratched her scalp. “Yeah, a lot. I think I needed to eat.” Here, she grimaced. “Sorry for worrying you, Tomoe. I just got a little freaked out.”

“That is all right. You are the more vulnerable mate.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But like I told you — I will protect you. I will care for you.”

“Thank you.” She turned her head, kissing his leg.

After a beat, he asked, “Do you trust me to care for you?”

“Yeah.” She buried her mouth and nose in his leg, nuzzling it. “You always do.” Here, she thought back to her rush to leave that morning and groaned. “Actually…you might have to ride me about taking care of myself more. I think I got sick because I ran out the door this morning.”

“You have a tendency to do that. You oversleep and under eat,” he muttered. “Very well. I will complain at you twice as loud when you neglect your meals.”

Unable to help it, she laughed. Who would’ve thought the day would come when she’d want him to complain? “Thanks. I can’t say I’ll be perfect but that’s what I have you for, right?”

A chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. “Of course.” He continued to stroke her hair. “We will adjust. We have a wonderful future ahead of us, Nanami. And I could not be happier that you are the mother of my children.”

Warmth rose to Nanami’s cheeks, and she hugged his legs. He was right, she thought. In this moment, she was extra grateful to have a partner who was as grounded as he was.

Hoping to keep her focus on the positives, she asked, “What do you think it’ll be like? When we have our kids…”

His eyes fluttered shut as he pictured it — the mental image of their house warm and cozy and full of life. He wasn’t sure how many cubs they’d have, but his fantasy conjured two of them, aging them up to the point they were able to get around on their own. A smile twitched on his lips as he thought about how they’d play, about how they’d be just as tenacious and bright-eyed and affectionate as Nanami. Perhaps they’d have her eyes, he thought, his heart melting. Doting on miniature versions of her made him feel so soft inside.

“I think it will be very warm,” he said, brushing a hand over her hair. “They will bring so much life to our home. It will never be dull and it will never be lonely. It will feel like…fullness.”

She shut her eyes and tried to imagine it, relying on all her childhood fantasies of coming home from school to a mother and a father who were there — present and happy and healthy. Yet she didn’t know what it really looked like. She could think about it — birthday cakes and family photographs and sitting around a table for dinner — yet she didn’t know how it felt. But she’d like to think it wouldn’t be anything like the gaping hollow behind her ribcage when she thought about her own childhood.

“Fullness,” she echoed, imagining a glowing ball of warmth inside her chest, growing it larger and larger until it filled every inch of that void. “It does feel soft… I want it to be warm.”

“Yes, I do too.” He drew gentle claws through her hair, grazing her scalp. He smiled at the shiver he elicited from her. “Not an inch of this house will be empty. There will always be someone home. And it will always be lively.”

“It won’t be quiet, huh?” She caressed his leg.

A scoffed laugh escaped him. “Mm, I had forgotten. Foxes can be quite noisy.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?” She opened her eyes to look up at him. “Because it’ll chase away the loneliness, won’t it?”

His eyes softened. Leaning down, his hair falling around them, he bumped his nose to her forehead. “Are you so lonely now?”

One of his hands found her sternum, and she reached up to place her hand over his. “Not really. Just…it gets quiet with only the two of us. We don’t really have any neighbors. So it’d be nice to have more people around.”

His lips quirked in a quiet smile. “Then that is what it will be like. There will never be a day that goes by where you feel like we are the only people for miles.”

A giggle escaped her. “How many children are you planning on asking me for?” She laughed again. “It’s not like we’re gonna have our own village.”

The mental image brought a wider smile to his mouth, his eyes halfway shutting and glittering in mischief. “Oh, really now? We will not have a fox village?” He tapped her nose playfully, his tail swaying at her small protest. “I was only planning on asking for eight or ten cubs—”

Her eyes bulged. “Eight or ten?” she shrieked.

A chuckle left him, and he brushed her bangs away from her forehead. “Now, now, I am only teasing. I would not ask you for so many. Perhaps two or three.” He tilted his head, smiling fondly down at her.

“Yeah? How do you plan on preventing more?” Her cheeks puffed.

“Well, we could find a way to replace the spell someday. Or we can do other things. I do not mind, as long as I get to spend my life with you.” Bending down, he lifted a strand of her hair and kissed it, his eyes fluttering shut.

A slow smile spread over her mouth, and she tilted her face up, nudging his chin with her nose. Her own eyes closed, her cheeks rosy. “That’s what matters the most to me too,” she whispered.

To this, he smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “I promised you I would make you very happy. I will keep that promise. We will have a gorgeous life, my love. The two of us and our cubs.”

Instead of replying, she touched her fingertips to his cheek and brought him closer. She closed the distance between their lips and chose to believe his words. And for a while, her heart was at peace.

Chapter Text

Over the duration of the next few weeks, in tandem with the harvest, Tomoe and Nanami worked to prepare the house. Perhaps it was still early in her pregnancy, but she wanted to be ready, because the rest of the summer leading into autumn would be a whirlwind of activity for the teahouse — not to mention, they’d need to prepare for winter. Who knew how she’d feel as her pregnancy progressed, so she spent each evening sitting with Tomoe, learning how to sew. Her first few attempts had been laughable but, much to her relief, Tomoe had been able to salvage the fabric for other means. Slowly, she started to get the hang of it.

Working together to get ready for the baby also solidified Nanami’s comfort in leaning on Tomoe more, especially seeing how he threw his all into it. There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted this child as much as he said he did, and seeing the difference between him and her father was like night and day. She didn’t know how she’d feel when the baby was actually here, but it gave her faith that she’d get through her own rough patches. Truly, she couldn’t have been happier.

She dared to believe that perhaps things would stay this way — domestic and peaceful until the end of their days.

By now, she was far enough along for Tomoe to inform her he could hear something when he rested his head against her stomach, yet she didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Hana. That secret grew difficult to hide as her fatigue increased and new symptoms began to surface. Soon enough, she’d have to say something, because if her morning sickness progressed to vomiting, then she bet she’d have to take more time off than she was used to.

On this particular morning, she was debating whether or not to go home early, already feeling a bit queasy. However, she hadn’t wanted to take time now when it could be worse later, so she was determined to push through it. At the very least, she’d decided to take a break and sit in the storeroom with a cup of herbal tea to calm her stomach. It wasn’t working as well as she’d hoped, and her mind felt thick with brain fog. Her entire body ached.

It sure would be nice to know for certain what caused these baffling ailments, she thought miserably as a pang shot straight to her bone marrow, followed by a shiver. She couldn’t say she’d ever heard anyone mention that reaction as a symptom, but Tomoe had assured her again and again that it was because she was carrying a yokai child. It wasn’t a definitive, and he wasn’t exactly a professional, but thus far she hadn’t been overwhelmingly ill, at least. 

Each time she experienced another bout of symptoms, a swell of piercing anxiety followed it, that voice in her head whispering that this wasn’t normal. However, given Tomoe’s confidence that all was well, she’d decided to put her faith in him even if she wasn’t wholly convinced. She needed to hold onto some hope to calm her nerves when no one else could provide answers.

As another wave of cold washed over her, she brought her cup to her mouth and took a long sip, letting the warmth course through her and soothe some of her tension. She’d barely finished swallowing before she felt like her body flickered, like she’d blinked in and out. The room stuttered, and she felt like she’d been moved an inch or two to the side. Startled, she jolted.

Something wet soaked through the bottom of her sandal and she glanced down to find a puddle. Shards of the cup she’d been holding seconds before lay around her. Yet she didn’t remember dropping it, nor had she heard a sound.

“What the hell?” she whispered hoarsely.

Unsettled, she knelt and began to pick up the pieces, albeit slowly. Had she blacked out? It didn’t really feel like she had — more like she’d skipped a frame in a movie reel. Her mind remained as clear and alert as it had prior to dropping the cup. And she didn’t really feel sick or weak. For all she knew, it could’ve been an illusion, or she could’ve simply been tired, her perception skewed from poor sleep.

Still shaken, she pushed it from her mind and focused on setting the pieces in a small pile, then grabbed a cloth and blotted the puddle. She must’ve spaced out, because what felt like only a second later, a voice called her name. It took several tries before she blinked and came back to reality, once again feeling as though she had skipped a scene. When she turned, she found Hana standing in the doorway, concern furrowing her brow.

“Nanami,” Hana called again, and this time Nanami hummed. “Are you all right?”

Glancing at the soaked cloth, Nanami nodded. “Yeah, I’m just a little clumsy today.” She laughed, waving it off.

“If you say so.” Hana hovered in the doorway, eyes flitting from the shattered pieces of the cup to Nanami’s face. “Anyway, a man who says he’s your husband just came by.”

Immediately, Nanami forgot her accident, a confused sound leaving her. It was rare for Tomoe to come by the shop in the middle of the day. In fact, she was confident she could count on one hand the amount of times he’d done so. If he was here, then something must’ve happened, she thought, her stomach jumping. She did her best to swallow her anxiety. After all, stress only intensified her burning nausea.

“I guess I’d better see what that’s about,” she said with a wan smile, standing on shaky legs. Her head spun, a sharp twinge piercing her skull. She sucked a breath through her teeth and leaned a hand against the wall to steady herself.

“Nanami, are you sure you’re okay?”

Hana’s concerned voice forced her eyes open, dots dancing before her vision. It took a moment more before she felt like her body had faded back into permanence and her eyesight had returned to normal. “Yeah, I just felt a little dizzy. I’m tired. That’s all.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick? You’ve been like this for weeks.” Alarmed, Hana reached for her arm, helping to support her. “If you need to leave, I can take care of things.”

Here, Nanami shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

Truthfully, she still wasn’t sure if she was sick or not, and she regretted no longer having access to a proper doctor or the Internet. Then she could look up these symptoms. She couldn’t say whether or not this was in the realm of normal for a woman who was pregnant with a yokai.

“If you say so…” Hana hesitated, and then, right before Nanami could exit the storeroom, the other girl blushed. “By the way, um…” She laughed nervously. “You didn’t tell me your husband was…”

“Was what?” A spike of dread rose in Nanami’s throat. Surely, Tomoe hadn’t forgotten. Surely, he hadn’t come to the teahouse with his ears and tail exposed.

Before she could devolve into full anxiety, Hana finished her thought. “That he was so handsome.”

The blood rushed to Nanami’s face. He was handsome, she thought. For the first time in a year and a half, she found herself thinking — he was out of her league. The fact that he’d fallen in love with her went against the odds. The fact that he’d helped her escape the brothel and married her despite her past went against all of the odds.

Outwardly, she smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah, he is. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

With that, she walked out of the storeroom, trailed by the other girl. Sure enough, she found Tomoe waiting at the front of the teahouse, holding a bento box. She’d only forgotten her lunch, she realized. That put her at ease.

“Hey,” she said, offering a tiny smile.

The moment Tomoe locked gazes with Nanami, he noticed she once again looked pale. As he’d become prone to doing lately, he stepped forward and placed a hand at her forehead. It felt cool enough, but he did sense a stronger yokai aura surrounding her, crowding her own energy. 

A frown furrowed his brow. These energy fluctuations had grown common as her pregnancy had progressed. She didn’t seem to notice it to its full extent, only complaining about forgetfulness or confusion or hot flashes, but when she didn’t eat, the demand made itself known. And he feared if she wasn’t careful to keep her strength up, that her human spirit might be strained by the yokai inside of her.

He huffed. “It is as I suspected. You have once again not been caring for yourself.” Here, he offered her the bento box. “You forgot your lunch. I came into town to bring it to you.”

Her eyes fell on the box. “Oh, thank you.” She reached out to accept it. “I guess I was really tired and forgot.”

“Well, you ought to be more careful. Remember what we talked about — you must not skip a meal,” he chided. The pleading look she shot him shut him up, but he lifted an eyebrow, questioning.

She chose not to respond to his silent question. It was best not to arouse Hana’s suspicions about her condition here. She just hoped he wouldn’t give it away by fussing over her so much.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement and realized that Hana hovered close by, never out of earshot. Even though Hana pretended to be working, the way she tilted her head towards them gave her away. Of course she’d be curious, Nanami thought. After all, she rarely talked about Tomoe, and Hana had never met him either. Perhaps she should sate the girl’s curiosity.

“Hey, you’ve never met my apprentice, right?” Nanami asked.

Although Tomoe had no interest in meeting this apprentice of hers, she’d already grabbed his hand, hugging the bento box to her chest with one arm. Biting back a sigh, he let her drag him over to the girl, who eyed him inquisitively. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt anything to humor Nanami, but being around other humans put him on edge.

“Tomoe, this is my apprentice, Hana.” Nanami nodded towards the girl, who smiled and blushed. “Hana, this is my husband, Tomoe.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hana said with a little bow, tone almost shy.

She was attracted to him, Tomoe thought with an internal groan. Now he had another reason to leave as quickly as possible. “Yes, nice to meet you too.”

“So how long have you been married?” Hana asked.

This elicited another raised eyebrow from Tomoe. Hadn’t Nanami told her? He supposed Hana was scraping at the bottom of the barrel for conversation. “A year and a half.” He glanced at Nanami again, but she seemed distracted.

“Oh, I see. That’s how long you’ve lived here, right?” When Tomoe mumbled an affirmative, she continued her barrage of questions. “I’ve never seen you in town. What do you do?”

“I suppose you mean for work.” Although it didn’t normally bother him, a twinge of irritation flooded his head at the question. It was almost as though people expected him not to provide for his wife, simply because they didn’t see him. This was part of why he hated coming into town. “I help Nanami run the business in the background. I cultivate the plants and handle any trade. That is a large reason why you have not seen me around.” This was true, but he all but detested humans. He chose omit this part.

The whole time they chatted, Nanami spaced out. Once again, the twinge in her head returned, except now it pulsed intermittently. She felt warm all over, her skin flushed and clammy, and she grew light-headed. Almost like she would disappear in thin air, like she weighed less than air. Her skull felt like it ballooned, but a few deep breaths brought her back down. Gradually, the discomfort abated to something dull, mildly painful.

Maybe she should see the herbalist after all, she thought, putting a hand on her head. But if she did that, she might attract attention to herself. Gossip spread, after all. And the last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out she carried a yokai child.

“You are ill.”

Tomoe’s voice split through her thoughts, and she half hummed, half moaned to acknowledge him, although she hadn’t really heard him.

She must’ve felt truly bad if she’d admitted she was sick, Tomoe thought. “How long have you been ill?” he asked. “What is wrong?”

Realizing how transparent she’d been, Nanami dropped her hand, lifting a wide-open gaze to Tomoe. He looked so worried. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention,” she said with an awkward laugh. “I guess I didn’t sleep too well last night. I’m kind of tired.”

His face contorted in a mix of confusion and concern, then again in distaste. She was hiding it from him, he thought, shooting her a sideways glance. “Mm, I see.” He was one second away from dragging her out of there, demanding she go home and rest.

“Anyway—” Nanami began, but she didn’t get the chance to finish her thought. 

The sound of dual footsteps approached, and then two shadows darkened the doorway. There was no time to deliberate or rest. She had a business to run, no matter how poorly she felt.

“Oh, I’d better take care of this.” She set the bento on a side table and rushed to greet them with a perfect smile, doing her best to ignore the tiny swell of nausea in her midst.

Just like that, she brushed his concerns off, Tomoe thought with a scowl. It was clear that she struggled, and yet she insisted on acting like nothing was wrong. Now she spoke in a friendly manner with other men, and it sparked a flame inside of him, his muscles tensing. He could feel himself preparing for a confrontation, and yet he didn’t understand why. 

Perhaps it was because his wife was pregnant, vulnerable, and his instinct urged him to put himself between her and anyone even vaguely threatening. Or perhaps it was that she paid such rapt attention to these men, whereas she’d hardly batted an eyelash regarding his own appearance at the teahouse. She’d even placed the bento he’d so lovingly prepared aside as though it were nothing. And her refusal to care for herself, to put these strangers above her own well-being as well as his concerns, only made it worse.

A growl rumbled in his throat, and he huffed through his nose. What was he thinking? This was her job. These men were mere customers, and though he couldn’t get a good look at them just yet, their posture didn’t suggest they were here for anything more than tea. Besides, she didn’t give her body away anymore. Yet here he was, jealous of the attention she gave to her patrons.

He was being irrational. And that irritated him almost as much as this scene did.

Despite Tomoe’s eyes stabbing the newcomers, Nanami ignored him. “Welcome,” she said cheerfully, clasping her hands in front of herself. “How many? Two?”

They nodded, stepping inside, shutting the door behind them. Now that they were no longer backlit, she took note of their dress — thin tatami armor and jingasa. Samurai? She struggled to keep a straight face, her heart beginning to pound relentlessly. What were samurai doing in the remote depths of the mountains? Luckily, her training from the brothel allowed her to keep a straight face. They didn’t seem interested in starting a fight, she thought, noting their mellow demeanors. But did this mean the wars had come out this far? Discreetly, she shot a worried glance in Tomoe’s direction.

It was a split second after laying eyes on them that Tomoe realized the same thing. All at once, his jealousy was forgotten, replaced by the alarm that spiked in his throat. Perhaps he ought to survey the surrounding areas. He hadn’t heard anything of the wars coming this way, of any armies infiltrating the neighboring mountains. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. After all, this was such an isolated area. Anything could happen without anyone being the wiser for it.

Damn it, he thought. Just when he and Nanami were having a child too. The last thing he wanted to do was uproot her, but he’d do what he needed to do — regardless of whether or not she protested — just to protect his family. 

His eyes followed them as Nanami led the two samurai towards the tea rooms. A part of him wanted to follow, but he stayed in place for now, choosing to observe. Even so, it occurred to him that perhaps the better option would be to kill these samurai and nip this in the bud before anything got out of hand. If they were scouts, they were possibly looking for more land to acquire for their lord. As long as they didn’t come back with a report of commerce or anything worth pillaging, then Nanami would remain safe. 

Yet taking action too quickly could draw attention. If too many people started sniffing around, suspicious as to why seasoned warriors had gone missing, they’d find that there was no one in the village who could stand up to them — and then they might suspect yokai. That would do him and Nanami no good when the whole point was to start over fresh, to hide his true identity from anyone who might reveal where he was to the gods or to Akura-Ou’s followers. If they found out he was here, then Nanami could get caught in the crossfire — or be hunted down purposely in cold blood. No, he should wait and find out what they wanted, he decided. Once he’d taken stock of the situation, then he’d weigh the risks and decide on his action.

As Nanami led them down the short hallway, the samurai resumed conversation between themselves. She listened intently for any indication that they were here to hurt anyone. But she forgot all about the war as she caught what they were talking about.

“Do you think the old man was right? That the fox is here?”

Fox? Her heart skipped a beat. Surely, they couldn’t mean Tomoe…

“He said it was a vision from the kami themselves. Why wouldn’t a priest be right about that?” the other man replied. “We should at least check it out.”

How was this possible? Who had tipped them off? She was dying to know, but she wasn’t sure it was appropriate to ask questions. After a second of surveying it, she was struck by inspiration.

“You’re looking for a fox?” she asked, pausing at the door, pushing it open. It was time to play dumb. “There are lots of foxes in the woods. I’m sure you’ll find at least one.” She offered a smile.

One of the men laughed, the sound cut and dry. “Woman, we’re not talking about your everyday fox.”

She bristled. Woman? She wanted to demand they call her by name, but then thought better of it. No, she wanted information. So it was best to play along. “Then what do you mean?”

“You’ve heard about yokai, right?” the first man asked.

Her stomach jumped. Outwardly, she nodded. “Yeah, of course. But that’s all legend, right? I’ve never seen any around here.”

“It’s hardly a legend,” the second man grunted. “There have been reports of ghost lights in the mountains, consistent with foxfire.”

The first man nodded. “One of my friends saw it with his own eyes. He came running back to the village like he’d been burned.”

“Foxfire?” Nanami swallowed hard.

As far as she knew, Tomoe had only used foxfire in their yard, and they were isolated, hidden away. He would’ve told her if someone had come near the house. With his senses, there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed. She decided to pick for more information.

“Are you sure?” she asked, and she didn’t have to fake the anxiety that bled into her tone. “I’ve never seen any yokai around here.” No yokai other than Tomoe, that was.

“Yeah. I’d be careful if I were you. One of the most powerful ayakashi disappeared about two years ago. No way is he dead.”

“Oh, my god,” she thought, heart thumping. “They are talking about Tomoe.” Out loud, she asked, “Couldn’t it be any ayakashi? I’ve heard of ghost lights but couldn’t those be will o’ wisps? I mean…it’s possible just based on the stories I’ve heard.” She clutched a fist at her chest, brow creasing, shoulders tight.

A barked laugh escaped one of the men. “Will o’ wisps aren’t the only ones who make ghost lights.”

“So…who is it? Is it really a fox?” She resisted the urge to ask outright, even though she was vibrating from tension. Her stomach rolled, and she swallowed it back, although she briefly swayed. Her skin grew clammy, and she was sure she looked as sick as she felt, because the two men hesitated.

“Well, if it is that fox, you might be in trouble. It’s said that he’s especially fond of young, attractive women like you,” the first man said with a grunt.

Upon taking in her expression, the second man frowned. “No need to scare her so bad. She already looks like she’s about to faint.”

The energy within her leapt, reacting to her fear and desperation, making her head spin. She breathed slowly, attempting to steady herself, worried the two men might not give her the details if they thought she was too frail to handle them. “I won’t faint!” she insisted. Then, deciding to play into her fear to her advantage, she added, “But I am pretty worried. Will you please tell me what’s going on so I know what to watch out for?”

After a short pause, the first man sighed. “Guess it’s only fair to warn you.” He met her gaze, expression grave. “He’s a white fox — young looking, like he’s in his twenties. Has long hair. He’s the one that caused massive destruction down south up until several years ago. Burning down villages and killing all the residents… This isn’t the first time he’s taken a break. It’s best we hunt him down before he comes back.” He met her eyes, looking grim. “If you cross paths with him, best to give him what he wants. Even if you’re a married woman. That’s the only way you’ll live.”

She wanted to scream that Tomoe wasn’t like that, that he’d never force himself on a woman. As far as she could tell, he’d never been like that. But maybe she didn’t know, a little voice in her head whispered. Again, her stomach lurched. No, she thought, shoving her anxiety aside. Tomoe was kind; he wouldn’t do that. That wasn’t the kind of person he was. Ever since she’d met him, he’d always treated her and any woman he interacted with so respectfully. Why would he have treated anyone else differently?

“Th-that’s horrible,” she sputtered. She wasn’t sure what else to say about that statement, feeling helpless.

“Let’s hope for your sake he’s not really here,” the second man said grimly. “You ought to stay out of sight as much as possible until our men get through searching the area.”

They weren’t going to go away, she realized in horror. And, based on what he said, they had a group looking for Tomoe.

Another notion struck her, and the blood rushed in her head to the point she felt dizzy. What if the gods had found them? After all, she’d overheard these two talking about a holy man who’d had a vision that Tomoe was here. She’d heard that the kami sometimes communicated with priests, yet it could’ve been no more than a dream. Although there was no way to prove it, it didn’t hurt to get as much information as possible. 

Carefully, she asked, “You said a priest had a vision? Did the kami themselves say he was here for sure?”

“He didn’t say if he was here or not. All we know is that the kami told him the fox was still alive. Our friend told us he saw the foxfire, so that’s why we’re scouring every village nearby,” the first man explained.

“So you live nearby?” At least if they did, then she wouldn’t have to worry about wars coming this way.

The second man nodded. “We live two mountains away, northwest from here.”

Here, Nanami uttered a laugh and dared to say, “Oh, I thought you were samurai or something.”

A snort left the first man. “I guess you could technically say that. We’re more than capable of taking down that fox if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A tiny shudder rippled through her shoulders. The very thought of them harming Tomoe made her feel like throwing up. Still, she should confirm just how much of a threat these two warriors were. 

“But…you’re not here under a lord’s orders?” She scarcely breathed.

“No. We came here to escape the wars. We’re just here for the fox.”

Thank the gods one of their concerns had been laid to rest and the wars were still far away, Nanami thought. But what was more concerning was the thought that the gods might find them. It was time to ask Tomoe to stay home, she decided. She’d hire someone to conduct trade in his place. Being the way he was, he wouldn’t like it — after all, he wanted to help support their family too, which was something she understood all too well. Perhaps she could convince him if he still tended to the plants. Regardless, he needed to be warned.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you escaped the wars,” she said with a forced smile. “Anyway, thank you for warning me. No one in the village has seen any sign of a fox, though, so I don’t think he’s here.”

“You say that, but they’re masters of trickery,” the second man pointed out.

To this, she only continued to smile politely. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’ll send Hana in to take care of you. Please let me know if you need anything else.”

With that, she left them to their own devices with a bow, and then shut the door behind them. Quickly, she returned to the front of the teahouse. There, she found Hana still talking to Tomoe, although it seemed to be a one-sided conversation. She was relieved to have an excuse to send the other girl away.

“Hana, will you take care of our guests? I have some business to deal with.” Something in Hana’s countenance seemed disappointed, but she nodded all the same. With a murmur of ‘excuse me,’ she gathered a few items to put on a tray, and then disappeared down the hall. Nanami waited until she was sure the other girl was gone before turning to Tomoe. “Come with me to the back. I need to talk to you.” She grabbed his sleeve.

At least he wouldn’t have to pry it out of her, he thought. With a nod, he followed Nanami to the storeroom, where she shut the door. All was quiet, dark, only a slight trickle of light filtering in through the cracks of the doors. It must’ve been barely enough for her to see, but it seemed she needed the privacy.

He watched her expression morph to something worried and desperate. Then, her hands came to his shoulders, her grip like a vise. His own hands fluttered to her elbows, his heart sinking. ”What is it?”

“I think the gods might know that you’re here,” she whispered, barely audible. 

His eyes widened. How had the gods known? He’d kept far away from any shrines, not wanting to tip off his presence. Any time he had come into town, he’d disguised himself. Not to mention, he’d limited the use of his powers even at home. Not that anyone other than Akihito had been to their home anyway. They’d done their due diligence to keep their personal life as private as possible — or, at least, he’d thought they had.

“What? That is not possible! Why do you think that?” he asked, tone urgent.

“Those guys were talking about you. They said one of their friends saw foxfire nearby,” she replied, clutching his shoulders. “Please tell me you haven’t been using it.”

“I have not used my foxfire anywhere but at home,” he assured her. “I have been very careful.” But perhaps he hadn’t been as careful as he’d thought he’d been. Still, he didn’t want to admit it was a possibility, so he insisted, “It cannot be about me. There must be another fox nearby. Or it is a will o’ wisp.”

“That’s what I thought, but they were talking about a white fox who’d destroyed villages in the south. Their description sounded exactly like you.” She nibbled her lower lip, digging her nails into his kimono. “I wonder if someone was near our house and saw your foxfire.”

Oh, gods. His mouth went dry, and he shook his head, vehement. “No, no one was near the house. I would have sensed their presence. Besides, I rarely use my foxfire, even at home.”

That much was true. Still, her face crumpled in a miserable frown, and she shut her eyes. “What if they find you? What will we do?”

Another spike of panic rose inside of her at the thought that he’d be captured, and then not only would she lose her partner, but then their child wouldn’t have father. After witnessing what Ikusagami had done to Tomoe, after having been powerless to stop the war god’s near fatal attack, she knew there was little she could do to fight a kami. Especially when she was pregnant, when she was weakened, when she was meant to be protecting their child.

Grieved, she pinned him to the wall and pressed close, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m so scared I’m going to lose you.” Tears pricked her eyes.

It pierced his heart to see her like this. It made him want to do something, to solve the problem, to convince them both that everything was all right. Even if it wasn’t. So he wrapped his arms around her, one hand coming to her hair, stroking it. 

Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he murmured, “It will be all right. You will not lose me.”

“But I nearly lost you two years ago,” she cried, struggling to keep quiet. “Ikusagami came so close to killing you. If it hadn’t been for Mikage—”

“Shhh. We will be more careful.” He squeezed her. “I will never let that happen again.”

Despite his words, his heart was in his throat. After all the trouble they’d gone to, after all the time they’d sunk into building a life together, he didn’t want to subject her to a lifetime of looking over her shoulder just because of his past. But it wasn’t like the gods would believe him if he said he’d repented of his ways — nor would they give him the chance to explain anyway.

He wondered — how could they ever find lasting peace?

“You have to stay home,” she begged. “You can’t leave anymore. Not for now.” 

“Then how are we to solve this problem? I must find out what is going on so that we might be able to sleep at night!” he retorted.

A tear spilled down her cheek, and she lifted her head to look up at his face. She could barely see his expression in the dark, but his eyes stood out, ghostly. More proof that he wasn’t a human, she thought, trembling. “No, there’s got to be another way. Just… Please don’t go anywhere anymore.”

The need to take care of it himself was overridden by her pitiful tone. He couldn’t even bring himself to point out that she’d ignored his pleas to leave the brothel, to be careful. She’d always done whatever she’d wanted, no matter how dangerous it had been. But in this situation, seeing her cry and knowing her greatest fear was to be alone while pregnant tugged at his chest.

“All right. I will not go anywhere.” He kissed her forehead, slow and sweet. “I will stay home until we figure something out. But we will need to get supplies.” He paused, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers, wiping her tears away. “I worry it will be too much strain on you. You already do so much. You are already more vulnerable than before.”

“I don’t care. It’s better than the alternative.” She clutched his haori.

Heart breaking for her, he held her tightly, pressing her close. “It will be all right. But please promise me you will not overextend yourself. Rely on your human acquaintances as much as possible.”

As much as she hated the thought of asking for help, she couldn’t think of another way around it. Screw her pride, she thought, a lump in her throat. If Tomoe was in danger, she’d do what she had to do to protect him. The only problem was leading people to their house, arousing suspicions, and giving away her pregnancy before they found out who knew about the fox.

She moaned, “Oh, this is the worst timing. It just had to be right after I got pregnant.”

He grimaced. “Nothing is ever at the right time, is it?” 

At this, she groaned and shook her head. Panting through an open mouth, fresh tears filling her eyes, she whispered in shaking tones, “I can’t help it, Tomoe. I’m really worried. I feel like we can’t run forever because they’re going to find us, and they’re going to hurt you. What if they hurt you while I’m at work? And no one’s there to help you, and I don’t find out until I come home?” Her breaths quickened.

“Shh.” He shushed her again. “Wait a moment.” Her wide eyes held his gaze, but she nodded, lips pressed tightly together. The following pause didn’t result in her calming down. In fact, he could smell her stress growing stronger. He attempted to console her, to convince himself. “I am worried too, and perhaps they are talking about me, but no one knows that we are here. There is no way for anyone to know.” 

Despite his words, his stomach clenched. No one should know, he thought. And he’d left no trace when the two of them had left. Over the years, he’d gotten better at hiding from Akura — with the occasional slip-up, of course — but this disappearing act had been too important to be anything less than flawless.

They hadn’t maintained contact with anyone from their old lives. They hadn’t talked to anyone about their plans prior to that faithful night. Even if people realized either of them had run away — even together — they’d never find them.

And yet… Doubt lingered in the corner of his mind.

Somehow, they’d messed up. And if he couldn’t mentally retrace his footsteps and figure out how, then disappearing again would only prolong the inevitable.

“We do not have enough information to say what is going on,” he continued. “We cannot say that they know where we live. It seems they are searching. The only reason to search is if one does not have an exact location. So to say I am unsafe at home is unlikely.”

A shaky exhale passed her lips, and she shut her eyes. That was right; they needed to find out more, she thought. Even if he couldn’t look into it, it didn’t mean she couldn’t. “I’ll try to find out what’s going on,” she said between rattling breaths. “I’ll see if someone will talk about it… If there’s a rumor or a witness or what. Because you’re right — we have to know what we’re up against.”

Knowing the way she was — that she tended to attack her problems directly — Tomoe shook his head. “Do not ask pointed questions. I know you are anxious to find out — and I am too — but too much curiosity will seem suspicious.”

“Then I’ll just have to be a fly on the wall,” Nanami replied. “I get it. I have to be careful. And I will be. I know how to talk to people and set them at ease. If I make them comfortable, if I just echo their words as questions, maybe I can get them to open up.” Here, she laughed once, the sound humorless. “I guess the brothel was good for that much, huh?”

If his ears had been showing, they would’ve slicked back. Her eyes had lost their luster, even in the form of her tears, and so he pressed her to his chest, holding her tight. “Do what you need to do, but don’t hurt yourself. We will figure a way out of this.”

“Yeah.” She buried her mouth and nose in his kimono, shutting her eyes. 

As much as she would’ve liked to keep deriving comfort from him, he couldn’t stay here any longer. Not when he was a target. Not when the people who were looking for him were in the other room. She pulled back. 

“You should go home where it’s safe,” she said quietly, tender fingertips tracing his lips, his cheek. “We can talk more tonight.”

Although he didn’t want to leave her, her pained tone told him it’d be for the best. “All right.” He kissed the top of her head. “Please try to come home early — and eat your lunch. You have been struggling, and I do not want you to inflict further stress on yourself.”

She was too tired to argue that she’d be fine. She supposed if he allowed her to worry about him, then he was entitled to worry about her as well. So she nodded. “Okay, I’ll eat and come home early.”

“Thank you.” Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he pressed a longer kiss to her lips, one she returned. They held it for a few beats, lightly mouthing at each other, and he basked in the sweet taste of her lips. When she hummed, pushing his shoulders, he broke the kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She kissed his chin, fresh tears stinging her eyes. A part of her wondered if she should walk him home. “Do you need me to come with you? I’m worried about you walking by yourself.”

This drew a dry laugh from him and he shook his head. “I will be all right. I promise to be careful.”

Although she still wasn’t comfortable, she nodded all the same. “Okay.”

He patted her cheek, and then reluctantly released her. Opening the door, he tossed a glance over his shoulder, forcing a half smile. “Have a good day. I will see you tonight.” With that, he passed through the doorway and walked to the front of the teahouse. Despite his confident words to her, he had a nagging worry that things might not be okay after all.

Chapter Text

It was excruciating for Tomoe to wait at home for Nanami after what she’d told him — especially as the day wore on and it sank in what they might be up against. All he wanted to do was fix it, to ask around and find out what was going on with the gods — or find out if it was something paranoid humans had invented on their own. But he had a sinking feeling the latter wasn’t the case. This wasn’t a village he’d come to before he and Nanami had moved here, and neither were any of the surrounding villages. There was a chance they’d heard of him from travelers and merchants, but the fact someone had mentioned him after nearly two years of inactivity said that something was wrong.

What was more worrisome, however, was that humans knew at all. Because if humans were talking about him being here, then that meant ayakashi would know too. And if ayakashi knew, then Akura-Ou had a chance of catching wind and hunting Nanami down. 

Although his sleeping spell should hold for some time to come, he didn’t want to take that kind of risk if people were talking about them. Not when Akura had done more than threaten Nanami two years prior. If Akura had sent an assassin after her before, he’d surely do it again, if not finish the job himself.

This was what nearly made him lose it even before Nanami came home. Nothing was worse than being trapped in the house when so much was at stake. The only thing that kept him rooted to the spot was that they hadn’t heard any rumors about Akura resurfacing alongside him. And surely such a thing would’ve been hard to miss. Akura wasn’t subtle, nor was he the type to hide.

Thanks to the rolling of his stomach, the tremors throughout his body, and the furious pounding of his heart, he ended up being useless for the rest of the day after this epiphany, choosing to spend his time sitting just inside the house and chain smoking. He stared out over the garden, every muscle tight until he felt like he was closing in on himself; tobacco did little to calm his nerves when they were this frayed.

Eventually, the day ended and he heard the front door slide open. His ear twitched, and he momentarily contemplated whether or not he should disguise himself, just in case it wasn’t Nanami. But that was ridiculous, he thought with a small snort. He could smell her. And he recognized the cadence of her footsteps. Gods, he was a mess. The thought of losing the life they’d built, of being forced to run just because of who he was… He couldn’t put Nanami through that.

From where he sat, he called out to her, “Nanami, come sit with me.”

He got straight to the point, Nanami thought with a grimace. But she couldn’t blame him. All day, she’d been a bundle of nerves as well, her thoughts centered around gleaning more information, on getting home to him. Unfortunately, she didn’t get anything more out of the samurai, nor had she picked up even a hint of the same story from anyone else. It should’ve been comforting that there was little evidence but, to her, it signified only the beginning of their troubles.

She placed the empty bento box that’d housed her lunch next to the wash basin, and then went to the back of the house, where Tomoe sat just inside the threshold of the door. Usually, he’d be outside, especially if the weather was nice like it was today. Concerned, she took the seat beside him. That was when she glanced at his hands — and found he couldn’t hold his pipe steady.

Heart in her mouth, she asked, “Did something happen?”

“No, but I have done a lot of thinking today,” he replied, turning his head towards her, his ears tilted forward. Sensing her trepidation, he placed his free hand on her knee, brushing over it affectionately. “I did not want to worry you prematurely, because we don’t know what the situation is, but I have to admit — I am growing more concerned about your story. I wonder just how much the gods or ayakashi know about us.”

The gods had been something she’d known about, but other ayakashi hadn’t even crossed her mind. Her eyes widened, heart rabbiting. “Do you really think other yokai would find out you were here?”

“If humans have figured that out, then yokai have as well.” Tomoe took a drag from his pipe, holding the smoke in his mouth for a moment before parting his lips and letting it escape. “Humans may not be able to find I am alive here, but ayakashi surely will be able to. Who knows how quickly we will be found.” 

It wasn’t a matter of if, she thought, throat closing up. It was a matter of when. Any hope that they could figure this out began to unravel. “They’d find us even though we’re living a quiet life? Even though you disguise yourself?”

“It seems inevitable. If we have already slipped once, then we will slip again.” A cross between a hum and a sigh caught in his throat, and his eyes dropped to the veranda. “No matter how we have washed each other’s hands clean, my past will always follow me. One does not brush off past crimes with a simple washing ritual and a word of forgiveness. I fear that we may never settle. That we will always be running.” Here, he turned his eyes towards her, something miserable twisting his mouth downwards. “I am sorry that I have dragged you into this mess. You deserve a better life than this.”

Mouth dry, Nanami held his gaze, one of her hands falling lightly on top of his. She brushed a thumb over his knuckles, caressing his skin, heart aching. In the back of her mind, she worried this might be him telling her it was best for him to distance himself, that it was best for him to leave for a while. 

“Tomoe, please don’t say things like that. I told you two years ago that I’d rather have one last day to live with you than a whole lifetime without you. I still mean that.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “I promised you I’d be by your side as your partner and friend no matter what. I’m going to be here, no matter how hard it gets.” She squeezed his hand, offering a wan smile.

His face fell; that depth in her eyes made him feel like he’d been speared through the heart. “That may be so, but I hate to uproot your life here. I would prefer we did not have to leave and start all over again.”

Still holding his hand, she brought her free hand to her stomach, touching it lightly. The gesture drew his attention, his narrow pupils flicking to her midsection. “Well, we don’t really have ourselves to think about now, do we?”

Slowly, he nodded. That was right. If they were bringing a child into the world, then that child’s needs and safety came first. That meant if they had to leave, then that was what they’d do. No hesitation, he thought. 

“You are right. I will do anything to protect my family.” He pulled his hand from hers and enclosed her in his arms, resting his cheek against the side of her head. Laying one hand at her shoulder and the other at her stomach, he said, “I will give up anything for your safety and for our cubs’ safety. I am not tied to this place, but I know you have a life here. I hate to think of you losing such hard work because of what I did in the past.”

He couldn’t stop blaming himself, she thought, staring up at him. This time, he didn’t make eye contact with her, his gaze faraway, miserable. With him saying he’d give up anything for their safety, she worried that he’d walk away even if he didn’t want to. Tears filled her eyes. 

“Please promise me you won’t go anywhere,” she murmured. “Even if you think it’s best for me and our baby.”

“Oh, Nanami, please do not fret about that.” He kissed the side of her head. “It would be worse for you if I were to leave. Sooner or later, it would be discovered that you were carrying a yokai child. You need my protection.” He nuzzled her hair, shutting his eyes. “Besides, if Akura discovers that I am alive, he will hunt you down whether I am there or not. I am the only one who can fight him off.”

“I thought you put him to sleep,” she said quietly, staring down at their feet. “Do you think the spell broke?”

“I cannot say. It should have lasted some time, but he has quite the amassing of followers. I am certain they have incentive enough to awaken him.” Here, he grimaced. “Regardless, we cannot take that sort of risk.”

“Yeah… I don’t want either of us or our baby to be in danger.” She smiled sadly. “If someone like that’s after us — or if the gods are after us — then what can we do?”

“I do not know yet. However, I swear I will do everything in my power to protect you.” He nuzzled her hair and shut his eyes. “But it worries me that you go into town so much. Perhaps it is best that Hana takes over for a while. At least, until we figure this out.”

She nodded. In the past, she might’ve protested or complained that she could still work, but it wasn’t just her safety at stake here. It was Tomoe’s — and their baby’s. Still holding a hand over her stomach, she shuddered a sigh. A part of her worried that their decision to bring a child into this world had been foolish. What if he or she suffered because of their decisions? Because of who they were?

An instant later, guilt swept over her, rendering her cold and nauseous. They both wanted this baby so desperately. They’d both felt prepared. Neither of them had thought that this would happen. They’d thought they were safe. And if that wasn’t the case… Then they were responsible to find a solution. Now.

Her mind worked overtime. The gods were no one to be trifled with. If neither she nor Tomoe had the power or the influence to sway them, then there had to be some other way to reach them. Appealing to them out of the blue would only draw attention to them, and if none had been there before, then it was like walking into a death trap. As for the ayakashi, the only allies she’d had had been at the brothel, and she’d run away, effectively cutting those ties. Besides, they couldn’t protect against the gods or Akura-Ou’s followers. That much had been proven during her time there.

No one in the ayakashi world could help them. But there was still one person in all the realms who might have a shot.

Out loud, she said, “I have an idea, but it might be risky.” 

Here, Tomoe locked eyes with her, humming. He didn’t like the idea of it being risky, but he’d hear her out. “All right. Tell me.”

She leaned her head against his throat, deriving comfort from his solidity, his warmth, his body wrapped around hers. “What if we reached out to Mikage? He’s on our side, right?” She chewed her lip. “Maybe we can convince him to keep the gods off our backs. He saw how you changed.”

A hum vibrated in the back of his throat. “That is true, however…”

He trailed off, mulling over it. Mikage was a mere tochigami. He wasn’t sure what kind of influence the god had, but land gods weren’t typically high up the food chain. Then again, he was the land god of a populous area, and Tomoe had been able to tell the god’s energy was quite powerful. Even so, there was one other hiccup in that plan.

“Mikage may be able to convince the gods,” he admitted, resting his cheek on the top of her head, shutting his eyes. “But it is as I have told you — if the gods know we are here, then ayakashi do as well. Perhaps Mikage could fend off most, but even Ookuninushi struggles to subdue Akura-Ou. That presents a problem with sending Mikage a message or paying a visit.” He swallowed hard, and held Nanami even tighter. Just above a whisper, he said, “If Akura has awakened, or if his followers are searching for us, then it would lead them right back to you. I could never forgive myself if I put you in harm’s way.”

As it was, he didn’t feel like he could forgive himself. He was the reason Nanami was in this situation, the reason that they contemplated going into hiding or running for their lives. Tension consumed him, and he held onto Nanami painfully tight. He barely heard her strained breath of discomfort. But when he felt her gently pry his arms, he heeded her and loosened his grip.

“No matter what we do, we’re in a bind, right?” This time, she pulled away enough to look at his anxious face. “If they know we’re here anyway, then that means it’s only a matter of time before Akura finds us. So we can run and hide with our tails between our legs, or we can both go to Mikage for protection.” She sucked in a breath. “I can leave the teahouse to Hana for a few days while we go to him. But we should at least try.”

His ears lowered sideways, heart rabbiting in his chest. “I could not lose you,” he said, tone thick with grief. “It is too dangerous for you to make such a trip.” Trembling, he clutched her arms, tilting his head down, his hair falling around her. “Let us compromise. I will agree to go to Mikage as discreetly as possible, in disguise, but we must find someone you can stay with—”

“Tomoe!” Her voice came out so loud, so commanding, that his ears flicked back, eyes wide. “You told me literally five seconds ago that we shouldn’t be separated. Because you needed to protect me, right?” She pouted up at him. “Doesn’t it make more sense for me to come with you? Don’t you want me by your side? Because if what you’re saying is true, then no matter where you hide me, he’s gonna find me. You told me it’s best that we stick together, no matter what.”

And she threw his words right back at him, he thought sullenly, his ears plastered to his head. But he hated to admit she was right. It was terrifying to think of the two of them stepping out of this haven, of possibly never coming back, of possibly being on the run for the rest of her life. Perhaps it would be a fleeting moment in his life, but to think of her whole life consumed by such a stressful existence was too much.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath and stared into her eyes. As much as he wanted to tell her no, that he couldn’t, she was right. And that terrified him. “Very well.” He sucked in another breath, eyes glued to hers.

Stunned, she blinked up at him. He’d said yes. She hadn’t expected him to say yes so easily. In fact, she’d thought she’d need to put up a fight. “You...you mean it?”

As much as it pained him, he nodded. “Yes. You are right — it would be better for you to be by my side.” He ran a hand over her hair, his eyes softening. “But let me disguise you.” He shut his eyes, brow furrowed in misery, and he trailed his fingers through the strands of her hair. He brought one up to his mouth, kissing it. “You must promise not to leave my side for even one second.”

At the thought of having to use the bathroom, she sighed. “Well, I’ll need to leave your side for a few minutes here and there,” she mumbled. This made him open one amethyst eye, that narrow fox pupil trained on her. “You can stay nearby, though.”

It clicked, and he bit back a groan. Humans could be inconvenient. But she couldn’t help it. “All right.” He opened his other eye. “Then do we have a deal?”

Here, she nodded. Maybe she’d gotten her way more than he’d gotten his, but at least they’d agreed instead of fighting. “Deal.”

His body sagged, and he leaned his weight against her. “Very well. Then let us plan to leave tomorrow. I will stay on the outskirts while you tell Hana something has come up and you must be gone for several days. All right?”

It wasn’t ideal, but she nodded anyway. “Okay.”

“Good.” He rose, gathering his pipe and the small dish containing the ashes. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he tacked on, “I will prepare dinner. You should figure out what we need to pack.” As soon as she nodded, thankfully not resisting him, he turned and wandered deeper into the house. Hopefully, they could get to Mikage without disaster striking.

—

The next morning, they set out early, with Tomoe escorting Nanami to town. Originally he’d planned to stick around the outskirts, but his anxiety spiked to the point he followed Nanami to the teahouse — although he waited outside for her, tucked safely away in the shadows. Once business there had been settled, they left the village, going a ways down the main road in the opposite direction of Mikage shrine — and in the direction they’d told Hana they’d be headed. It was best to throw anyone who overheard off their trail.

As risky as it was, Tomoe had decided to use his powers to spirit Nanami closer to their goal. They couldn’t use his powers the whole way, needing to be as stealthy as possible, but he wasn’t going to put her through weeks of travel. Especially not when they were on the run. And especially not when she was pregnant.

At least their trip would be reduced to two days, instead of weeks. That had been the original plan anyway, but around mid-afternoon, while she and Tomoe walked through flatter terrain for a bit, a sudden crack like lightning struck Nanami through the middle. The pain was more intense than she’d ever experienced, a red hot blade ripping her in two. She sucked in a sharp, wheezed breath and stumbled in her tracks, swaying as her vision doubled.

Upon hearing her breath hitch, Tomoe stopped walking, turning to look at her with wide eyes. “What is wrong—?”

He cut himself off, taking in Nanami’s complexion. The color had completely drained from her cheeks. She looked white, like she might pass out at any moment. Quickly, he took hold of her shoulders and urged her to sit on a nearby rock. Then, he knelt before her and hurriedly produced a small jar of water. He poured a cup and held it out to her.

Nanami stared at it, dazed. All of the sudden, she felt beyond ill. What felt like lava flooded her limbs, the intensity centered around her core, the nausea burning her throat. This wasn’t just the morning sickness people talked about, she thought, each breath short, shallow. She wondered if this was because her baby was an ayakashi, if her body couldn’t handle it. After all, Tomoe was extremely powerful — as powerful as the gods themselves — and there was no telling what kind of strength their child had.

Whatever it was, this reaction couldn’t be a good sign. Pregnant women weren’t supposed to feel like this. They weren’t supposed to nearly black out. They weren’t supposed to feel like they were being sliced in half with the blade of a sword. They weren’t supposed to throb down to the very marrow of their bones with a deep, unyielding ache. And that meant something was very wrong.

With shaking hands, she accepted the cup and took a sip. First, she needed to stabilize herself, she decided. She didn’t think it was a simple case of dehydration, but nothing more could be done right now other than to sit and drink. Yet each layered symptom only compounded the fear which crept through her being. She bit back a whimper.

Tomoe’s concern grew as he watched her. She’d broken into a sweat, her hands shaking so badly the water sloshed in the cup. And he worried she might faint. “Nanami?” he pressed, laying a hand on her knee. “What is the matter?”

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “My whole body hurts. And I’m so dizzy and hot.” She exhaled shakily and turned pleading eyes to him. “Is this normal? For a yokai?”

Panic rose in his throat. “I do not know,” he admitted. “Is it bad? Can you walk?”

Here, she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Another flash of pain ripped through her and she gasped. This time, she doubled over, nearly falling off the rock. She grabbed onto Tomoe’s shoulders, grasping the fabric of his haori in her fists, the cup thunking to the ground. His strong hands found her sides, steadying her, but she sank into his arms, into his lap. A whimper caught in her throat. Oh, dear gods, was she dying?

Tomoe had never seen Nanami like this before. Her body felt so fragile under his touch, and even through the layers of clothing, he could feel the burning heat of yokai energy. She shook all over, her body so frail and brittle and human. A near paralyzing fear seized him. They had to do something, running from the gods be damned.

“All right,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I am going to find a town. We will find you a doctor.”

Feeling too weak to protest, she let Tomoe lift her and adjust her weight so he held her in one arm. She laid her head on his shoulder, vision blurring with tears, body quivering. “I’m scared,” she managed to whisper.

“I am afraid too,” he admitted, fighting to keep his voice steady. “But it will be all right.”

He gathered the rest of their belongings, heart racing uncontrollably. Hearing her say she was scared confirmed that something was very wrong. He struggled to maintain enough calm to think straight. Once he’d picked up all their bags, he hurried down the path, using his sense of smell and hearing to scan for anywhere they could go. Shit — they were in the middle of nowhere.

“Please hold on, Nanami,” he urged. “We will find something. We will get you help.”

Her tears spilled over. “If I knew what was happening, if this was normal or not…”

Crap, she thought, she could’ve really used Google at a time like this. Not being able to do any sort of research only heightened her anxiety. She didn’t even know where they were, and could only assume Tomoe knew where they were going. Since she’d spent her entire time in the past sticking to one place, she had no idea how to find her way, leaving her completely dependent on him. They were on their own.

While Tomoe desperately searched for any sign of civilization, neither of them spoke. She jolted when he released his spell and broke through the trees to survey the surrounding areas, clinging to him, trying not to look down. This was stupid, she thought, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks. He was being too careless.

“Tomoe, stop,” she panted as another wave of pain overtook her. “What about the gods? What about Akura?”

“You are more important,” he shot back. “If you die, then hiding from them would be pointless.”

“But they’ll kill you—”

She was up to her stubborn antics again, he thought, a surge of pressure bearing on his skull. And if he didn’t nip it in the bud, they’d go into a loop she wouldn’t let them break out of. “No, they will not! And do not fight me on this; you are making my head swell!”

When he snapped at her, the stress unleashed another pop of agony through her middle. A moan left her, and she twisted a fistful of his haori in her fingers, her breaths short and labored. She didn’t even have the strength to lash back like she normally would. Unbidden tears clumped in her lashes, and she tore at his clothing.

Realizing he’d shouted at her, his face fell. She was in so much pain, and he’d been so unkind. But the cortisol and adrenaline overloaded his system, intoxicating him with a volatile, poisonous mix.

“Nanami, I am sorry. I should not yell at you,” he murmured. “I am very anxious.”

The wave receded, although the tension remained, latching onto her every muscle in its vibrating grasp. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.” She sniffed and hugged him around the neck, nestling into the crook of it. How could she be mad? This was no time to fight — not like she had the energy anyway.

The spitfire Nanami he knew, the Nanami he’d met two and a half years ago, would’ve surely protested or complained that he’d been rude. But here she was, gasping against his throat, her body hanging limply in his arms, so ill she couldn’t dish it back to him. It made him worry — what if their fears over her mortality were becoming reality? For a split second, he regretted asking her to have his child. What had he done to her?

“It will be all right,” he said aloud, partially to assure himself. Even so, he felt his faith wavering. Because from this vantage point, high above the trees, all he could see was forest and mountain peaks surrounding this strip of a valley. There was no sign of civilization for miles.

Although he didn’t say it, she could see with her own eyes. She didn’t whip her head this way and that for fear of inciting vertigo, but she did glance around. Her stomach sank.

“There’s nowhere to go, is there?” she asked, her voice cracking.

Tomoe hummed, and then, feeling Nanami’s grip slacken, sped up. There had to be somewhere, anywhere, that he could take her. “No, not yet. We will find someplace soon.”

They wouldn’t, not in the human world, a little voice in his head nagged. And he hated to admit it, but their options were limited even if they did find a village. After all, the pulsations of energy thrumming in her body made him believe it had to do with a yokai pregnancy. And human healers wouldn’t know what to do.

They had no choice. They had to go to the World Over Yonder.

“Nanami, listen to me,” he said, tone urgent. He adjusted her weight in his arms. “I am going to take you to the World Over Yonder.” Hearing her intake of breath — the one that usually preceded some sort of argument — he added, “Do not argue! I know that we agreed it was too risky to go back. But if you are this sick, then you need to be attended to. Perhaps you are not a yokai, but you are carrying cubs. A yokai healer might be able to do something for you if this is the cause.”

“Cubs? Plural?” Nanami’s voice took on a higher pitch. “Can you tell? Am I having more than one baby?”

His ears flicked back. This was irrelevant. But due to the anxiety in her tone, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to answer. “I cannot say. It is a habit to say cubs instead of cub. Please don’t worry about that right now.”

What should they do? Normally, Nanami would fight with him, would insist it was too risky, that they shouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention to themselves. But when a particularly strong pang socked her in the stomach, winding her, she realized — there was no other choice. If she was in jeopardy — or if her baby was sick — then they needed to find someone who could help them. And a human doctor would have less answers than a yokai one would.

“Okay, take me to the ayakashi world,” she said, wincing. She felt so weak. “You’re right. I need to see a yokai doctor.”

He clenched his teeth. He hated this. The life they’d built might’ve all been blown to smithereens. But her health wasn’t worth staying hidden. They’d just have to take this gamble and hope for the best.

“All right. We will go.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “No matter what happens, please remember that I have sworn to protect you.”

Instead of arguing, she nodded, shutting her eyes. She felt so tired. Shivering, she nuzzled against his throat, basking in the warmth there. She didn’t know what ripple effect this decision would bring, but there was nothing more that they could do. For now, she put her faith — and her life — in his hands.

—

It had taken far too long for Tomoe’s comfort to find an ayakashi healer, but after crossing the side to the spirit realm, he did eventually learn of one nearby. Although he’d disguised himself as another fox, there was no doubt in his mind that once the healer examined Nanami and saw she was a human, they’d know who he was. That was why he planned to pay whoever they saw hush money. Anything to preserve their anonymity.

They were directed to a hut within one of the smaller towns. Since they were still in the mountains, it was tucked away, idyllic even. It would’ve been a relaxing place to visit had he not been so stressed out; after all, Nanami had barely stirred or spoken. But he could feel her soft breaths against his skin, and her body was still warm, so he managed to hold it together just enough. Cradling her in his arms, he stopped before the hut, calling out a greeting, hoping the occupant would answer.

A brief moment passed, and then the hanging over the doorway shifted. A hunched, elderly yokai dressed in a plain kimono appeared at the door. Her head was adorned with tiny, rounded ears, and a long tail peeked out of her clothing, her once rich, auburn fur sleek and streaked with white. A kawauso, Tomoe realized. Her slate eyes met Tomoe’s, and then they fell on Nanami. Still, she didn’t move. Desperate, Tomoe took a small step forward. 

“I have been told by a farmer of the name Benjiro that you are the healer in this area,” he said. “My wife needs help urgently. She is with child and ill.”

The kawauso grimaced, hovering in the doorway, one webbed paw grasping the edge. “Oh, my.”

She might not trust him, Tomoe thought, heart in his throat. Even if he told her who’d sent him, they were in the middle of nowhere. Strangers were not always welcome. But in these parts where commerce was limited, he knew what would entice her.

“I am willing to pay double, if you can see her now,” he pressed.

Cautiously, the kawauso hobbled forward, pausing a few steps away. She smelled the air delicately, her whiskers twitching, an act which Tomoe tolerated — if it would get them closer to help, that was. Once she was done, she turned her gaze to Nanami, craning her neck, stretching it out just enough to have a look. Impatience bubbled inside of Tomoe, and he clenched his teeth. But she seemed satisfied by the end of this brief investigation.

Stepping back, the kawauso gestured for Tomoe to follow her. “Come in. I will have a look.”

“Thank you.” A small flutter of relief passed through Tomoe, but it was short-lived.

He followed the woman into her hut and blinked. There was a mortar and pestle in the middle of the floor next to the sunken hearth, where a pot was hung to heat over the fire. The scent indicated it was a mixture of herbs, possibly some tincture. Glancing around, he found clay pots and jars lining the walls with various labels before them. It seemed she was who the villagers had said she was.

“Lay her there.” The woman nodded towards a straw mat, so Tomoe knelt on the floor and laid Nanami out.

Briefly, Nanami’s eyes blinked open and she stared up at Tomoe. His heart leapt in his throat at the lack of light in them, the dullness that had clouded over the usual warmth she exuded. Taking her hand, he murmured, “You will be all right.”

Truthfully, Nanami didn’t think she would be all right. She had no idea what was wrong with her — just that she was in a lot of pain, and it made it hard to think about anything else. When Tomoe took her hand, it was a small relief, just knowing he was there. “Tomoe,” she murmured.

Tomoe’s ears pricked up. She’d said his name. And before he could negotiate for their anonymity too. But he bit back his frustration, because that was secondary to this crisis. “I am here,” he assured her.

Unfortunately, they’d garnered the kawauso’s attention. “The fox named Tomoe?” She stiffened, rooted to the spot.

He swallowed an anguished sound. Since the ruse was going to be up anyway, he released the transformation spell over himself and Nanami. “Do not speak a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?” His tail flicked, his eyes cold and piercing.

The woman’s eyes blew wide — and Tomoe could smell the sting of fear on her. “N-no, master fox, I would not tell anyone. I don’t see why I would!”

It was doubtful she didn’t know why she’d tell anyone, but he had no choice but to trust her. “No need for theatrics. I will pay you well. Just please look at my wife and keep quiet about what you have seen here.”

A moment passed, during which the kawauso huddled by the wall, her form hunched, her posture rigid. The scent of fear thickened, overlaid by musk, and Tomoe realized she thought he was threatening her. Agitated, he pulled his coin purse from his kimono and set it on the mat where she could see it.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he said, tone edged. “But I am very concerned about my wife. Can you help her or not?”

Slowly, the kawauso’s shoulders eased. Her eyes dropped to the coin purse, then to Tomoe’s face. Still, she seemed hesitant.

“He won’t hurt you,” Nanami managed to grit out. As the pain coursed through her, she sucked a breath through her teeth and writhed slightly. The second it passed, she exhaled and finished her thought. “If you can please help… My baby.” 

At last, the kawauso came closer. She glanced from Tomoe to Nanami, the latter of whom offered a wan smile. That seemed to be enough, because she knelt by Nanami and took her free hand. “I will try, but I don’t know if I can help,” she admitted, pressing careful digits to the inside of Nanami’s wrist. “I have not dealt much with humans before.”

“But if it is our cubs which are making her ill, then you could do something, correct?” Tomoe’s ears laid back against his head. He scarcely dared to breathe.

“Possibly… Like I said, I haven’t dealt with humans much.” The woman was silent for a moment, and then laid Nanami’s hand down. “What are her symptoms, exactly?”

Although she was in a lot of pain, Nanami was more lucid than they seemed to believe she was. Perhaps Tomoe wanted to spare her the trouble, but it was best the healer heard it from her directly. “I’m weak and tired. I’ve been dizzy and hot and nauseous, like my stomach is being torn apart. And my whole body aches.” She sucked in a breath, shuddering. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m not really here or in control of my own body. Please…” She blinked rapidly, grasping the woman’s sleeve. “Is this normal?”

“It could be…”

Tomoe’s patience wore thin. It seemed the kawauso was more worried about what he’d do if she gave an unfavorable answer instead of leaning confidently into her expertise. A growl rumbled in his throat. “And what does that mean?”

The kawauso shifted, nervous. “Well, I’ll need to check their energy. You’re not a normal yokai, after all, so I cannot be sure without that.” 

She laid her paw flat against Nanami’s belly, pressing gentle claws against it. A soft, cool glow emanated from her fingertips, briefly adding to Nanami’s ache. Nanami groaned quietly, her eyelids fluttering, her teeth gritting.

“I’m sorry, child. Bear with it,” the woman murmured. She pressed her paw a little more firmly to Nanami’s stomach and hummed.

“Well? What is it?” Tomoe demanded, tail lashing.

“You are not that far along in the pregnancy,” the kawauso said, as though to herself. “And yet your reactions are so strong.”

Nanami glanced over at her, tense. “Is it because I’m a human and our baby is a yokai? Can my body not handle it?”

The kawauso shook her head. “In all my years on this earth — which have been many — I have seen several human and yokai parents. That in itself should be no cause for worry. The humans I have known were able to bear children without complications beyond what one would typically face.”

“But is it different with Tomoe? He’s not an ordinary ayakashi.” Nanami gripped Tomoe’s hand, looking up at him. They exchanged a worried glance.

“He is powerful,” the kawauso agreed, now using both paws to examine Nanami’s abdomen, carefully feeling different spots, pressing into them. “But that should not harm you. Although you may be prone to some interesting side effects. When a human is in direct contact with an ayakashi, they can see a world that normal humans cannot. And since you are carrying the children of a yokai like Tomoe, then you’ll likely find your senses even more heightened. It’s possible you will have access to an ayakashi’s energy and power — at least, while you’re pregnant.”

“That makes sense—” Nanami began, starting to relax. She was about to ask what might be causing her pain then, when she realized what the woman had said — the children of a yokai like Tomoe. Face growing pale, she said, “Wait, wait. Children? As in, plural?”

Here, the woman paused and lifted her head, meeting Nanami’s eyes. “Yes. You are carrying two cubs.”

Nanami’s eyes grew huge. Twins? She’d just wrapped her head around having one child, and now suddenly there were two. If she hadn’t been lying down, she was sure she would’ve collapsed in shock.

“Two?” she sputtered. “I’m having two?”

Despite the dire situation, Tomoe’s ears pricked up when he heard they were going to be parents to two cubs. He squeezed Nanami’s hand, blinking, mouth slightly open. This should’ve been wonderful news. And he had to admit he was overjoyed to have more than one miniature Nanami to cuddle and love. But at the same time…

His eyes met Nanami’s, taking in her pitiful expression, the pain furrowing her brow. Just as quickly as his awe had come over him, it vanished. There was so much fear on her face. Surely, she must’ve been concerned about her ability to carry one child, much less two. 

“This would be good news if you were not so ill.” He kissed her palm, eyes locked with hers. “I am sorry you are in so much pain, my love.”

“Y-yeah.” Nanami laughed nervously, doing her best to remain positive. Her laugh was cut short by another thunderbolt of pain, and her whole body went rigid, her breath sucked through her teeth.

Momentarily, all she could do was lay there, back halfway arched, eyes locked on the ceiling. She trembled, breaking out into a sweat, unable to breathe. Their voices sounded far away, like she was tunneling, like her consciousness was flickering in and out. Just like before, like that day in the storeroom, her very body felt like it blinked out of existence for a split second. Everything around her faded away, replaced by a whir of blurred colors and piercing light. She spun sickeningly fast, around and around like a tilt-a-whirl, until she wanted to throw up. Just when the pressure and the suction grew unbearable, her head splitting open, the cacophony stopped.

Gradually, the intensity abated, and her muscles relaxed. The pain still throbbed in the background, but it eased enough for her to became aware of her surroundings. She blinked her eyes open, and she found herself looking up at both Tomoe and the healer. Both wore expressions of pure shock.

“Wh-what?” She blinked again, a little more clear-headed. In the next second, every ache in her body quieted, replaced by stillness and calm. Whatever had just happened, save for her fatigue and jellied limbs, she was feeling almost back to normal.

“You…” Tomoe couldn’t find his tongue. How could he explain what he’d seen? Luckily, he didn’t need to explain it, because the healer spoke for him.

“It looks like my hunch was right,” she said grimly. “This is your cubs’ doing. They’re healthy and your wife seems healthy, but she is experiencing some interesting side effects thanks to your power.”

“Is that what that was?” Nanami asked, irate. “So you’re telling me I’m gonna be this sick the whole time I’m pregnant?”

The kawauso shook her head. “Not necessarily, but until your children settle in and you learn how to control it, it would be best to stay at home. Not only because of the pain, but because it seems they are trying to, ah, transport you somewhere.”

“No way.” Nanami gawked, then sat up too quickly. A twinge filled her skull and she groaned, bringing a hand to her head. Still, she continued. “They’re already using their powers? But I just got pregnant a few weeks ago!”

“They’re not using their powers,” the kawauso corrected. “But you have a yokai’s energy in you, and it can respond to your feelings and will. You just don’t know how to control it yet.”

The healer rose, then rummaged around some jars. Nanami watched her pluck leaves from various jars, curious, and then her eyes followed her as she sat at the mortar and pestle. “What’s that?” Nanami asked.

“I’m making you a medicine to help with the pain. I can’t do much to block a power like Tomoe’s, but hopefully these herbs will take the edge off of it.”

That wouldn’t work, Tomoe thought, but he held his tongue. After all, as long as Nanami wasn’t in pain, if he could always find her, then that was what mattered. As for their little problem with his cubs’ power… He’d just have to teach her how to wield a fox’s energy.  

In the meantime, however, he turned his attention to her health. “So you swear that my wife is healthy? She is not sick? She can carry my cubs to term?”

The woman nodded. “I don’t know much about humans, but based on her energy, I’d say she is healthy, as are your cubs. They’ve attached to her energy evenly, and that means they will grow to term.”

The pregnancy was viable. Nanami’s hand flew to her stomach again, and she glanced at Tomoe, chewing on her lower lip. He tilted his head, sympathy in his gaze, and then he drew his fingers through her hair, the act affectionate. Finally, she said, “I’m glad they’re healthy.”

“As am I,” Tomoe replied. Then, frowning, he continued, “But if you will spirit yourself away unintentionally, then we have a problem.”

At this, Nanami groaned. Of all the things… “Yeah, I’m guessing you won’t know how to follow me, huh?”

Here, he shook his head. “I would not. However, I can teach you how to control it. And—” Pausing, he produced an enchanted leaf from his haori and tucked it into Nanami’s obi. “I can give you this. If you find yourself somewhere you do not know, then use that leaf to call for me or look for me. Either one will work. It depends on your intention.”

Having a tie back to him made her feel a little more secure, as did his assurance that she could learn how to control yokai power. Maybe if she learned, then her pain would stop too, she thought. At the very least, having a plan helped calm her. “Thanks.” She studied his face. “Do you feel better?”

He stared at her, flabbergasted.“That is what I should be asking you!” he protested. “I am feeling much better. But never mind me. What about you?”

“I’m fine. I feel a lot better than I did when it first hit me.” She offered a smile, and then a weak laugh. “I was prepared for morning sickness, but not disappearing. Funny, right?”

“Not in the least,” he mumbled, ears lowering sideways.

His attention diverted as the kawauso scraped the herbal mixture into a small, handheld jar and capped it. Then, she handed it to Nanami. “This should last you until you get to your destination. Take a pinch with food in the morning and in the evening. Be sure to leave a small amount at the bottom so the healer in your town will be able to duplicate it.”

Or she could’ve just told them what was in it, Nanami thought, eyebrow twitching. She kept this to herself, though. Outwardly, she smiled and said, “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course. I wish you the best.” The kawauso returned her smile, although it quivered at the edges of her mouth. “Now, master fox, are you satisfied with my service? Or is there more I can do for you?”

She was still worried, Tomoe thought with a sigh. “Yes, I am relieved. And you have nothing to fear. Just keep your mouth shut about us.” With that out of the way, he opened his coin purse and counted out more than she’d likely ask for. Sure enough, when he offered it, her eyes widened. He dropped the coins into her paws. “Take it. And thank you for your help. I am grateful.”

“Oh, yes, thank you!” Nanami chimed in.

“You’re welcome. Feel better soon.” The kawauso stood to escort them to the door, her relief palpable.

Even though Nanami felt better, Tomoe still picked her up, ignoring her small noise of protest. The look he gave her told her he was in no mood to negotiate. Not that she wanted to anyway, because the last several attacks had been severe, sapping her of all her energy. She’d let him take care of her. And she had faith that with his help and the medicine, she’d be back to her old self in no time.

They said their goodbyes to the healer and then, after disguising themselves, they once again ventured into the mundane world and the mountains beyond. Nanami could only hope that the rest of the journey would go without any further trouble.

Chapter Text

The medicine Nanami had been given did little to curb the pain. Because of this, she and Tomoe were slower than he would’ve liked. Even when Tomoe carried her, she could only handle so much before they had to stop and rest. Not to mention, she had another attack like the one she’d had at the healer’s where she was nearly whisked away. This time, it was for a longer period, leaving Tomoe shaken and Nanami frightened. If there was no way to control it now, then Tomoe didn’t know what they were going to do as her pregnancy progressed.

Given Nanami’s condition, they didn’t get as far as Tomoe had hoped. And as the sun set and the weather cooled, he decided it was time to find shelter. Thanks to his keen senses, they found an empty hut to spend the night, where they’d be safe and tucked away from prying eyes. He was glad they’d brought prepared food, because there was no way they could’ve gone out to gather anything. Not that he would’ve left her alone. As it was, he’d hardly left her side even for a minute, much to her chagrin.

Since they had a long journey ahead of them and Nanami wasn’t feeling well, they went to bed early. Anxious, Tomoe lay on his side facing Nanami, encircling her within his arms. She lay nestled against his body beneath the blankets they’d brought, snug and secure. Still, he found it hard to relax, especially when tremors rippled through Nanami’s body every now and then.

Tenderly stroking her hair, he sighed and shattered the silence. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, my love?”

Nanami had been lying against his form, seeking comfort from his touch, breathing shakily. Despite what the healer had told her, she worried her body wouldn’t be able to handle yokai that were as powerful as Tomoe. It seemed ludicrous to imagine she was fine when she was in so much pain, when the medicine did little to take the edge off. Even if her body endured it, she couldn’t say what would happen if their cubs’ powers were used against her — or if she was transported somewhere dangerous. She was afraid she’d die after all, but she didn’t want to tell him that. It was pointless when words alone wouldn’t comfort her, when there was no way to dispel such a disquieting thought.

Burying her face in his chest, she shook her head. “No, but thank you.”

It tore his heart into pieces to see her in this kind of pain. Although she didn’t say it, he could smell the overbearing potency of anxiety that encompassed her like a cloud, could feel the tremors rippling through her, her muscles contracting and releasing in cycles. The energetic pulse of yokai power followed the pattern, leaving no doubt in his mind what caused her discomfort.

Guilt clenched his stomach. This was all because he’d asked her to carry his children. He wondered if her quality of life would be so affected that it wasn’t worth it.

He shut his eyes and nosed her bangs. “I am sorry you are hurting.” He gave her a squeeze, and the words flooded out of him before he’d had time to consider them. “If I had known it would make you this ill, I would have never asked you to do this for me.” Face falling, he tangled his fingers in her long hair, kissing her forehead. “Please forgive me. I did not know carrying my cubs would do this to you.”

He felt this bad about it, Nanami thought, mouth going dry. And they’d both been so excited to start this new chapter in their lives too. Now she was glad she hadn’t said anything about her fears, because she didn’t want to scare him or upset him more. 

“It’s not your fault,” she murmured, nuzzling him in return. “I wanted to have kids with you too. And I still want our babies. Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted. “I only wish I had not hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” She winced, a pained breath catching in her throat. His arms tightened around her. “I don’t regret it, even if it’s hard. I don’t want you to regret it either.”

He regretted it a little, he thought, brow creasing. As much as he wanted to meet their two no doubt perfect cubs, he hated to see her reduced to a shell of herself. For her to sweat and writhe and whimper as though she were in the throes of illness was a lot to bear. He kissed the top of her head.

“It is difficult to watch you go through this,” he admitted. “It makes my heart ache.”

Here, she laughed, the sound humorless. “I guess there was no way we could ever really be prepared, huh? We knew I could get sick, but we had no idea I’d get yokai powers.” She declined to highlight how they hurt her. There was no need to make him feel worse.

“I suppose so. I would be happy you were carrying my cubs if you were not so miserable. Your pain is my only regret,” he murmured, lightly touching her hair.

“Don’t regret anything,” she whispered, leaning her head against him. “You’re an amazing partner. I’m so glad I have you. I know I can lean on you when things get tough and that’s what makes it worth it.”

It was a bittersweet sentiment, stirring something simultaneously warm yet tormented inside of him. His mouth twisted in a semblance of a smile, and he shut his eyes, pressing her close. Not that long ago, they’d fought over this — over her ability to lean on him, to let him support her, to let him help her. Now she readily accepted his assistance, even expressed gratitude for it, and it was so unlike the Nanami he’d known that it worried him.

If she hadn’t been sick, he would’ve seen it as her adapting to their new circumstances. But her physical state heightened his need to protect her, even from a threat he couldn’t see or touch or smell, morphing what should’ve been relief into anxiety.

Instead of voicing this, though, he hummed and rested his cheek against her head. As she buried her face in his throat, he realized that her skin felt so hot, so damp. Fresh concern rose within him, and a little voice whispered — what if he lost her? The stakes were doubly raised now, because if he lost her, he lost his whole family. And he’d never expected to feel as attached as he did to two entities which weren’t even sentient yet, but he adored them with his entire heart. And he would’ve defended them fang and claw until the death.

But this wasn’t an enemy he could face, katana clenched in hand, foxfire bared in the other. Humans were so frail, and pregnancy was dangerous for them. On top of that, she’d warned him about her bloodline. He’d hoped she was different, especially after being assured by both the human herbalist and the kawauso healer, but when she shook like this, when the heat rolled off of her in humid waves, he couldn’t help himself.

Heart in his throat, he asked, “Do you have a fever?”

At this comment, Nanami lifted a hand to touch her cheek, and then his. Even though he was a yokai, not a human, it still gave her something to compare. Her own skin felt warmer than his, but not drastically so. The heat she felt burned from within, from her core. She felt another pulse emanate from her midst, tugging her, like she was being pulled into oblivion.

“Nanami?” he prompted, digging his nails into her yukata. “Are you all right?”

Her mind tunneled briefly, and she swore she could see a little pinprick of light, could catch a whiff of something acrid and not quite foreign, embedded within her memory like ancient history. It remained just out of reach, as though a glimpse of a dream state, and then it faded away. The suction receded from her insides, and she relaxed.

“I don’t think I have a fever,” she replied. “I think it’s just from the pain—” She cut herself off, realizing she’d revealed how uncomfortable she was. She didn’t want him to feel guiltier than he already did. Drooping against him, she mumbled, “Sorry. I hope you don’t feel bad or blame yourself too much. I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Nanami…” Alarm perked his ears up, his stomach twisting. “Should I get you something? Perhaps water? More of your medicine?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.” 

She drew in a breath and shut her eyes, light-headed again. There was that pulse again. It throbbed loudly in her head, swelling inside her skull, until it felt too large for the bone to contain. She shuddered, body much too heavy. Suddenly, she felt like she could hardly keep her eyes open, that tunnel beckoning her to follow it into slumber and dreams.

“Maybe we should just get some sleep,” she said, voice faint. “Can you turn the lights out?”

Although he wanted to leave them on in case she needed to get up during the night, he did as she asked. With his power, he snuffed out the oil lamps. Curling his tail over her hip and her lower back, he held her close, protective. A part of him didn’t want her to close her eyes, but the day had been long and hard, and they’d traveled a great distance. They could both use some rest, even though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.

“If you need anything, my love, do not hesitate to wake me up.” He ran a hand up and down her spine. “I would prefer you asked me instead of trying to do it yourself.”

“Thanks, Tomoe.” She smiled wanly, nuzzling against his collarbone. Despite being miserable, his tenderness warmed something deep inside her. “Promise me that you’ll sleep. Don’t stay up just because I don’t feel well.”

He wanted to argue, but after she’d given him such a scare earlier that day, he held his tongue. Instead, he nodded. “All right. Try to get some sleep too.” He kissed the top of her head. “Good night.”

“Night,” she murmured, shutting her eyes. Then, tiredly, she tacked on, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Her pain must’ve worn her out, because she slipped into sleep right away, her surroundings muddled and faded, any sounds faraway. She relaxed against the futon, in his arms, and allowed her body to rest. Her consciousness gave way to black.

—

Tomoe’s worry must’ve kept him from sleeping deeply, because he skimmed a dream state for some time. Perhaps he was even only lightly dozing, because he was somewhat aware of Nanami’s warmth and weight beside him. It was the only thing that allowed him to relax even a little — to feel her body heat and occasionally surface into consciousness enough to hear her soft breaths.

That half-asleep state was why, when he felt the sudden loss of her solid body, of her heat, that he woke up instantly.

He jolted, his breath sucked in through his teeth, his heart knocking against his ribs. Was it a dream? Before he even looked, he realized that his tail lay limply on the futon. Since it spanned the width of it, the tip brushing the edge, he realized — she wasn’t in bed anymore. A second later, he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Sitting upright, he whipped his head around, searching for her, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. Emptiness filled every corner of the room, the boards creaking lightly as they settled in the cooler mist of nightfall. Outside, the wind gently rustled the leaves and picked at the cracks in the hut. There wasn’t so much as the crunch of grit and grass under the weight of a sandal.

“Nanami?” he called out.

Silence answered him.

Concerned, he threw aside the blankets and got to his feet. If she’d run out, he should’ve felt her leave. Or heard her. Or something. But he couldn’t so much as sense her. Just in case his senses were dulled from sleep and she had tried to leave the hut, he lit the wicks of the lamps with his foxfire until the room was illuminated. That would guide her back, he thought. Something about this felt wrong, though, leaving his stomach twisting into a thousand knots, his heart pounding relentlessly.

He attempted to reason with himself. Maybe she’d just gone outside to relieve herself. Although she liked her privacy, he was too worried to wait. Stepping outside, he looked around the hut, his ears turning this way and that, listening to the sounds of the forest, to the nocturnal animals scurrying amongst the brush and rustling the dead leaves. Deep inside, he knew if she’d been around he would’ve heard her.

“Nanami?” he called out again, his voice edged, thin, tense. By now, he was panting, breaths short and quick. He circled the hut, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings, scanning between the trees and into the depths of the forest. “Nanami, are you here?”

No response. A lump came to his throat. By now, his heart raced so rapidly it made him dizzy, heat rushing to his head. Don’t panic, he told himself. After all, he didn’t smell blood, nor the lingering imprint of cortisol or adrenaline. Neither was there the stench of another around — not human nor kami nor ayakashi nor wild beast. He could deduce that they were the only two here, the other scent trails those of small woodland creatures. Hardly anything who could harm a grown woman, even if she was sickly. He needed to take comfort in that.

Besides, earlier that day, he’d witnessed with his own eyes that she’d nearly been transported somewhere else. If anything had happened to her, it had been that. Yet they’d been prepared for this situation, had expected it. And she had the leaf, a way home. He had to trust they’d find each other.

Even so, he hadn’t had the chance to teach her how to use her newfound powers, and he couldn’t wait for her to figure it out. That anxiety knotted ropes out of his guts, his instinct demanding that he find his mate and his cubs at all costs. Something primal within him surged, his breaths heavy, his fangs suddenly feeling sharper in his mouth.

With a sweep of his hand, he conjured several balls of foxfire. “Find Nanami and bring her back to me!” he barked. With that, he hurled the foxfire into the night, leaving them to streak like lightning against a backdrop of shadowed trees and the faint glow of the Silvery River of Heaven.

Instantly, the foxfire soared in different directions, weaving through the trees. That proved she was nowhere on the grounds, he thought, his eyes wide, his entire body shaking. Because if she had been, then his foxfire would’ve clustered around the house. There was no doubt about it now. She’d been transported — and transported somewhere he couldn’t easily reach her.

There was no time to waste. He sped forth on his foxfire, gaining altitude over the forest, feverishly scanning every direction for any sign of her. Who knew where she’d been transported to. From this high up, he could see for many ri all around, save for the mountains which crested to the north and the mist which had settled in the valleys. Against the dark, slumbering hills, he could make out his foxfire still traveling at a hefty clip in all directions. They hadn’t found her yet. His stomach plunged.

As a human, her energy field was weak, but he still searched for it, attuning every sense to see if he could lock onto it. At the very least, he should’ve been able to sense his own children. But there was no sign of them.

What if she had been transported somewhere far away in the country? And what if it was dangerous? Perhaps it had even been to the ayakashi world. Or, worse, it could’ve been a place where humans couldn’t survive. The very thought of her being dropped into the middle of the ocean, far from where he could reach her to save her in time, made him want to throw up.

Calm down; don’t panic, he told himself over and over again. This became a matra, the only words he could think other than Nanami was gone. Nothing else mattered anymore — not if the gods caught him or Akura found him or anything. The only priority was finding Nanami.

With his heart in his throat, he sped off into the night, sending out more and more foxfire, desperate to find her. He wouldn’t rest until he did.

—

His foxfire never found her.

A day of futile searching had passed, and Tomoe was delirious with panic. By now, she should’ve sent the leaf after him. It would’ve arrived by now. His foxfire had found no trace of her whatsoever, and his senses hadn’t picked up on her either. Her scent had ended at the futon and there had been no other fresh scents before or since, confirming that no one had come in and taken her — confirming that she’d simply vanished.

It was time for a new tactic. Since he’d already scoured the surrounding areas to the best of his abilities and had come up empty-handed, driven to the point of near madness, he decided to enlist the power of someone who might be even more effective than he was. His own safety no longer mattered, because his family was in peril. And if he couldn’t have them? He didn’t care whether he was free or alive or not. It was time to go to a god. And so he continued his journey alone, transporting the final stretch down south, down to Mikage’s shrine.

The moment the curved rooftop came into view, the torii gate standing before it so proudly, he lost the last bit of his restraint. Immediately, he plummeted from the sky, speeding towards the shrine so quickly that he would’ve broken straight through the tiles had he not aimed for the ground instead. He landed not so softly, skidding across the grass, leaving deep grooves in the earth. Quickly, he regained his balance and sprinted up the steps to the veranda two at a time. The inhabitants of the shrine had no time to act before he threw open the door.

“Mikage—!” he began, but got no further before his jaw hung uselessly.

There, steps from the door, he found the god sitting on a cushion at a low lying table. And he wasn’t alone. With him were two others — a red-haired god he didn’t recognize and the regal blond kami he’d only seen in passing. But recognition struck him the moment the god’s emerald eyes locked with his, something stony and cold passing over his face. Ookuninushi.

As swiftly as his blood skyrocketed, it came back down. Because it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was recovering Nanami.

Before any of the gods could do or say a word, he barged in and dropped to his knees, despair etched on his features. Pride had left the building long ago, that tight, dark feeling consuming him whole. He bowed his head towards Mikage. 

“Mikage, I beg of you to help me.”

His words seemed to have shocked Ookuninushi and the red-haired god into silence, because they only gawked at him. In the interim, Tomoe panted shakily through his mouth, a wretched sting building behind his eyes. Why weren’t any of them saying anything? He dug his nails into the floorboards, splinters pricking the tender skin beneath. And he wondered then if Mikage’s offer had expired, if he’d aligned himself with the other gods, if he wouldn’t help him, but would allow these two to take him away instead.

But that didn’t happen. A light touch came to his shoulder, and when Tomoe lifted his gaze, he found that Mikage’s eyes were soft, kind. “What ails you, Tomoe?”

Just like that, Mikage had welcomed him back without questioning it. They’d only known each other for several days when they’d met two years ago, but one look into Mikage’s eyes proved that he was still on his side. Tomoe panted through an open mouth, so dizzy he could hardly stand it, his ears laid back. His eyes watered slightly.

“My...my wife—” he began, voice wavering, shaky.

“Oh, goodness! You know Tomoe? And you didn’t say anything?” the red-haired god interrupted, alarm on his features.

Fresh anger and adrenaline pumped through Tomoe’s veins. The sting in his eyes retreated, and he whirled to face the red-haired god. “If this is about me being a wanted man, you may do as you please with me! All I ask is for you to hear my request first.” 

Despite his words, Tomoe held fast in a defensive position, his tail lashing. Just because he’d be accommodating later didn’t mean he wouldn’t go without a fight if they charged him now. But if he had to make a bargain, he’d do what he had to do. These two fools, however, only continued to gape at him.

Not waiting for a response, he turned to Mikage and continued breathlessly. “My wife has disappeared. She is gone. I cannot find her—”

He cut himself off, bringing a hand up to his mouth, ignoring the stares of the other two gods. He felt like throwing up. Quickly, he swallowed it back and planted his hands on the floor, again bowing his head. 

“Please, Mikage — please help me find her. She is with child. She is very ill.” Black and purple dots danced before his vision. He continued, “I have already looked everywhere I could. She has vanished. I must have help from someone who is in touch with the land itself. Who can communicate with nature—”

“You have a wife?” the red-haired god gasped.

“Your wife is pregnant?” Ookuninushi asked at nearly the same moment.

The look on Ookuninushi’s face froze the blood in Tomoe’s veins, and suddenly he regretted adding that detail. He wouldn’t try to kill her, would he? After all, there was no doubt that Ookuninushi recognized Nanami would be pregnant with yokai children. And any children of his would be infinitely powerful.

Digging his nails into the floor until the wood cracked beneath them, Tomoe gritted his teeth and crouched, ready to pounce, his tail thrashing. “You would not harm a human, would you? If you would stoop so low that you would kill a human simply for carrying my children, then you are no god.”

Before he could lash out, Mikage clamped his hands on Tomoe’s shoulders, stilling him. “Tomoe, try to calm down,” he said, keeping his voice even, gentle. “Let’s start from the beginning.” He paused and, as soon as Tomoe nodded, he went on. “You said your wife is a human. Is this the same woman I met two years ago? Nanami?”

At this, Tomoe nodded, throat tight. “Yes, we left together and married. We were going to live quietly in the human world for the rest of her life.”

“A yokai living in the human world?” The red-haired god hummed, cutting a feline glance towards Tomoe. “And one like you, too.”

“Now, Otohiko, we shouldn’t be so callous. Let’s hear him out,” Mikage chided. “I have seen the change in Tomoe. He’s not the same wild fox he was before. Besides, we are gods. We’re here to help those in need, aren’t we?”

Tomoe drew in a shaky breath. “It is true — I have given everything up. I have turned my back on Akura-Ou and subdued him. I have vowed to live in peace. Nanami and I had never planned to come out of hiding, but she heard that the gods were hunting me and we worried she would be in danger. So we were on our way here to ask you for asylum. That is when she fell ill.” He hung his head, eyes falling shut.

“You did disappear suddenly,” Mikage agreed. “And Akura did too, which was unusual for him.” Here, he turned to the other two. “That’s proof enough he’s changed, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t prove much,” Otohiko said with a little yawn. “Two years of silence is nothing.”

“What I want to know is — where is Akura-Ou?” Ookuninushi’s voice filled the space.

Snapping his head up, eyes flashing and tail whipping from one side to the other, Tomoe spat, “It does not matter! All that matters is finding Nanami!”

“All right.” Mikage laid a hand on his back, and the warm weight of it grounded Tomoe just enough. “When did she disappear?”

“It has been two sunrises; she disappeared during the night,” Tomoe replied, meeting Mikage’s gaze. “She has not been with child for long. We did not realize the strain it would put on her body, but she cannot handle an ayakashi’s power. She has been spirited away.” At this, he brought a hand to his head, groaning and shutting his eyes, his ears drooping sideways. “I do not know where she has gone. My foxfire cannot find her. I did not sense her trail leaving the house we had taken shelter at. It is as though she has vanished in thin air.”

There was a tense silence. Then, Mikage said, “Ookuninushi, have you heard of anything like this happening before?”

“No, most human and yokai unions result in a normal pregnancy. But...you are not a normal yokai, Tomoe.” Ookuninushi frowned, rubbing his chin. “I don’t believe spiriting someone away is a side effect, though.”

Tomoe’s anxiety heightened, and he turned to Mikage, grasping the front of his kimono. Out of the corner of his eye, he was vaguely aware that Ookuninushi and Otohiko had stiffened. “Can you not do anything? Can you not sense where she might have gone?” Here, at the grief thickening his tone, Tomoe noticed the other two gods’ postures ease. They’d probably realized he wasn’t going to attack.

“How shameless,” Otohiko commented with a huff. “Barging in here when you’re a wanted man and continuing to ask for a god’s help. Mikage doesn’t owe you anything.”

Before Tomoe could lash out, Mikage placated him. “It doesn’t bother me, Tomoe. All living creatures have equal value in my eyes. I’d be happy to help you.”

“You will?” Relief washed over Tomoe, and he laughed weakly, breathless. He felt like wilting to the floor, pressure increasing in his head. He lowered his chin. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“No, it’s my pleasure,” Mikage assured him. “I’m anxious to find Nanami too.”

“That’s all well and good, Mikage,” Ookuninushi piped up. “But you know we can’t let Tomoe free.” His gaze pierced Tomoe.

Just like that, the gods threatened him again. Even if Mikage had agreed to help him, Tomoe knew he was no match for Ookuninushi, the head god of earth. And while Tomoe would do anything for Nanami, he couldn’t allow them to put him under lock and key before he was certain she was safe.

Ears laying back, Tomoe retorted, “Now, wait a moment! I have told you that I have changed my ways. I will never harm anyone again.” His tail thrashed, chest tightening. “I cannot allow you to take me into custody. Certainly not while Nanami is missing. She is my priority and I will fight for her.”

A soothing hand rubbed his back, and he recognized Mikage was trying to calm him down. He drew in a deep breath, heart thudding. Right, he wouldn’t win them over acting like this. 

With great difficulty, he muttered, “I apologize. As you can imagine, this is highly stressful for me. I would do anything to ensure her safety. I am beside myself with grief.”

“I guess you would be.” Ookuninushi grimaced. “However, surely you realize we can’t trust you that easily.”

Tomoe’s tail flicked back and forth. “That I do understand,” he admitted. “But will you push it aside long enough to help me find my wife? Anything else is irrelevant to me, and that includes past grudges.”

“Ookuninushi, I already said I’d help him.” Mikage pushed his glasses up his nose. “At least give us long enough to figure out what happened. You know yokai — when they love someone, that person is their world. He won’t hurt anyone while he’s thinking about her.”

At this, Ookuninushi and Otohiko exchanged a grim look. A tense moment passed, and Tomoe flicked his tail even faster, willing himself not to burst out and explode at them. Eventually, Ookuninushi spoke. “All right, but I have some conditions.”

Of course Tomoe hadn’t expected anything less, but it was still disappointing. Even so, if he didn’t strike a deal, they wouldn’t let him keep searching for Nanami. Maybe Mikage had agreed to help, but it would be more efficient for them both to look. 

“Very well. What are these conditions?” Tomoe asked.

“First of all, you can’t go off on your own. You’ll allow Otohiko and Ikusagami to escort you.”

“What?” Otohiko shrieked, nearly knocking over a cup of tea in the process. “You can’t be serious! Ookuninushi-sama, that fox will eat me alive.” Horrified, he pointed a finger at Tomoe, who laid his ears back, tail whipping back and forth. “Do you remember how many kami he killed?”

“I did not want to do that!” Tomoe spat. “I had no choice. Akura stuck his head where it did not belong and pulled me down for good measure. It was self-preservation.” He glowered, then lowered his voice to a mutter. “In case you have forgotten, I forced him to leave.”

Ignoring Tomoe, Ookuninushi told Otohiko, “This is why Ikusagami is going with you. I’ll lend him my sword again. That way, Tomoe can’t try anything.” He shot another side-eye in Tomoe’s direction.

The thought of being followed around by the very god who’d nearly killed him wasn’t appealing at all. Then again, whatever had happened in the past was irrelevant, because Ikusagami was yet another set of eyes who could help scour the country. And, as the god of war, he was particularly powerful. If Ookuninushi instructed him to do so, then Ikusagami could also use his power to protect Nanami and ward off potential attackers.

“Only for Nanami,” Tomoe thought, gritting his teeth. “Fine,” he spat. “But he had better not kill me. I do not intend to lay a claw on any of you.”

“You have my word.” Ookuninushi nodded, then locked eyes with him. “Now, for the second condition — you will deliver us Akura-Ou.”

Tomoe froze, his blood running ice cold. For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe. He stared at Ookuninushi as though the god had grown a second head. Despite how Akura had betrayed him and sought to kill Nanami, his former comrade had believed he’d been saving their friendship. He’d been jealous, threatened. And though they were no longer friends or brothers, to think of disrespecting the past they’d had together, of spitting on their old alliance, turned his stomach. Even in that dark moment when Akura had sent Kirakaburi after Nanami, Tomoe had never considered killing him. Turning him over was the same thing, wasn’t it? 

“I… That is something I cannot do,” he stammered. “Perhaps we are no longer in contact, but he was my brother at one time. It is unthinkable for me to do that to one I considered family.”

“I know loyalty runs deep for yokai,” Ookuninushi replied, gaze even, steady. “But this is a special circumstance. Akura has the potential to hurt many, many people. You’re the only one who can put a stop to him.”

Here, Tomoe shook his head, mouth dry. “I cannot.”

Even so, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered — but wouldn’t it be better for Nanami if Akura was disposed of? She’d no longer have to live in fear. And he didn’t trust the gods not to lock him away for the rest of eternity after this was over. If he was imprisoned, and Nanami was left wide open, then Akura could potentially find her and kill her.

“You don’t have much of a choice. Either you hand over Akura, or we’ll have to jail you immediately.” Ookuninushi’s mouth set in a straight, firm line.

Tomoe gritted his teeth, clouded thoughts swirling in his mind like a tempest. Ookuninushi was serious. He despised the situation the god had put him in, forcing him to betray one he’d once cared about to save his beloved wife and children. When it came down to it, he knew he didn’t have a choice. And he loathed that he so much as hesitated when the stakes were so high.

A voice in the back of his head urged him to attack. Ookuninushi was a threat. Yet killing him in front of Mikage would earn him no favors. In fact, Mikage might need Ookuninushi’s help to find Nanami. His fingers tensed, foxfire burning at the tips of his claws, threatening to erupt. Perhaps Mikage sensed it, because he laid a hand on Tomoe’s shoulder, urging him to remain calm.

“Let’s deal with Akura-Ou later — one thing at a time,” Mikage said. “This isn’t an easy decision for Tomoe to make. He might still change his mind, but let him think about it. Like you said — loyalty runs deep for yokai.”

Tomoe stared at Mikage, lips parted, eyes enlarged. Mikage had taken his side. To think of a god taking a wild fox’s side — with him being one of the most powerful ayakashi to exist — was laughable at best. He could’ve pinched himself.

Surprisingly enough, Ookuninushi nodded. “Very well. We’ll discuss this later. But—” Here, he met Tomoe’s eyes. “After this, you’re coming back to Izumo with me. After everything you’ve done, we can’t let you go free.”

Tomoe’s tail flopped to the floor. What a headache. “I will do whatever is necessary to find my wife,” he finally said. If they weren’t going to arrest him now anyway, there was no point talking about it. He needed time to resolve this issue — and time to figure out what he was going to do to keep Nanami safe.

Once again, Ookuninushi surprised him by nodding. “All right, we have a deal. But I’m only doing this for Mikage. One human girl is a trifle.”

Of course, Tomoe knew this was how spirits thought, but to hear a powerful god like Ookuninushi brush off Nanami’s life as though it were no more significant than a flea’s made his blood boil, his heart ache. The gods didn’t care about humans any more than ayakashi did, he realized, mouth dry. At least, not individually. It hit him then that he hadn’t cared about humans either, yet now it was ironic how he had more compassion than the gods did. 

Except for Mikage. The tochigami’s sympathetic gaze was the only thing keeping him from attacking Ookuninushi, from rending his throat with his claws, from seething how dare you as he cut him down. Because Mikage acted as a lantern of hope — hope that someone out there cared deeply enough for Nanami to save her.

Deciding to ignore Ookuninushi’s comment, Tomoe said, “If it is agreed, then I will continue my search.” He retrieved an enchanted leaf from his sleeve and passed it to Mikage. Even if the god had the ability to communicate via his avatar, he wanted to be sure their contact wasn’t broken. “Use this to reach out to me directly if you need to. Please let me know if you find anything.”

“I will.” Mikage offered a little smile.

In the background, there was the sound of rumbling, like lightning striking followed by loud thunder. The peal shook the shrine, the shelves rattling, the floorboards vibrating, the tea in their cups sloshing. Even before Tomoe looked outside, he knew what this meant. A grimace spread over his face. Fantastic. Sure enough, the door opened a second later, and Ikusagami’s cold, scowling face appeared.

“Ah, Ikusagami, thank you for answering my call so quickly.” Ookuninushi rose to his feet. In a poof of smoke, his enchanted sword appeared — the very same one that had mortally wounded Tomoe two years prior. The sight of it made Tomoe tense. Even more so when Ookuninushi passed the sword to Ikusagami. “I have an assignment for you. You are to go with Otohiko and escort Tomoe to find his wife.”

“What?” Ikusagami barked, scowl deepening. “Ookuninushi, no disrespect, but have you lost your mind? That’s the same fox you signed a death warrant for!”

“I’m aware of that.” Now, Ookuninushi looked even more serious, tucking his hands into his opposite sleeves. “But this is not up for debate. Don’t kill him. Simply go with him, keep an eye on him, and then bring him back to Izumo when we’ve wrapped up this task.”

“It would be better to dispose of him once and for all,” Ikusagami muttered, shooting dagger eyes at Tomoe, tightening his hold on the hilt. “You vile fox.”

Tomoe didn’t get a chance to retaliate before Ookuninushi interrupted. “I told you — this is non-negotiable. This is not a request.” 

Ookuninushi glared, and even Tomoe shivered at the expression on his face. Who knew such a sensitive god could be so frightening? He hadn’t known the god of wealth had it in him. Perhaps he had earned the title of head god of earth after all.  

“We have use for Tomoe after this is over, so we need him alive. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, Ookuninushi-sama,” Ikusagami grumbled, daring to look the other god in the eye, daring to show his displeasure. “But we’re going to make this quick.”

“I would hope so,” Tomoe growled, ears flat against his head. “For one thing, I do not want to be chained to you any longer than necessary.” He stood and picked a splinter from his fingertip. “There is no time to waste. We must head north.” With that, he turned to the door.

Otohiko groaned, and Tomoe heard the scuffling sound of him getting to his feet as well. “I can’t believe this,” Otohiko mumbled under his breath. “I have better things to do.”

Tomoe shot a glare over his shoulder, but only tightened his jaw, declining to speak. There was no point in tearing into either of these gods. It was best to stay on their good side as much as possible. After all, they were helping him. No matter how much he hated Ikusagami, he’d take every pair of eyes he could get.

Nanami’s life was on the line. His children’s lives depended on it too. He’d do whatever it took to save his family, even if it meant risking himself in the process.

Chapter Text

Although they began their search at the abandoned hut where Tomoe had last seen Nanami, it quickly became apparent that there was nothing for them there — not in the way of clues or anything else. Even after fanning out to search the surrounding areas, the gods’ familiars in tow, they came up empty-handed. That was when Ookuninushi ordered them to retrace their steps. He sent the three of them back to the northern town where Tomoe and Nanami had settled. And while Tomoe didn’t believe Nanami would be found that easily, he couldn’t quell the hope and anxiety and anticipation that seized his heart until he couldn’t breathe.

That town was their home. And perhaps, being earthbound spirits, the cubs would have unknowingly transported her back to the same place that they’d been conceived — a den that represented warmth, safety, and peace.

Even so, he had a sinking feeling that she was nowhere they could reach. Not if Mikage had no answers. And certainly not if Ookuninushi had no idea. Surely, tracking a single human wasn’t that difficult for a god of his caliber. A part of him wanted to ask Ookuninushi to contact Yomi just to check, but he was too afraid of what he might find.

Hope was a double-edged sword.

Presently, they had arrived near the village. They entered from the air, giving the settlements a wide berth, coming upon the land from behind. After a quiet descent, Tomoe wove through the trees, following the familiar paths back to his house. With each step, the lump in his throat grew, the heavy knot in his chest expanding. He wanted to cry out, to beg any god who could help to spare Nanami and his children from whatever fate had taken them, yet two such kami were here. And they could do nothing.

Ookuninushi had said spiriting away wasn’t a side effect, he thought, making his way through the underbrush. That meant no one was familiar with what had happened. And he wondered — was she truly gone? His heartache increased until he trembled from head to toe and, momentarily, he stopped, fluttering a hand out to grasp the trunk of a young birch tree.

The sound of crunching leaves drew his attention back to the present. Ikusagami’s energy weighed down on him, heightening his nausea. To think — he was leading the very god he’d hidden from right to his and Nanami’s haven. It only served to highlight the dire situation, and the fact that he was cornered. He tightened his grip on the tree.

“Why have we stopped?” Ikusagami asked, tone edged. “Have you sensed something, fox?”

Blinking, Tomoe straightened up, looking over his shoulder at Ikusagami’s stony stare and Otohiko’s glum expression. His ears laid back, and he shook his head. That was the whole problem; he didn’t sense anyone.

“No. But we are almost there.” He released the tree and shuffled down the path.

The closer they got to the house, the more Tomoe felt like his limbs had been weighed down, like someone had looped thick ropes around them, boulders tied to the ends. And as they broke through the trees to the clearing, his and Nanami’s cozy home nestled safely there, Tomoe’s heart plummeted. 

A resounding, hollow ache spread through his body, until he felt like his insides had been scooped out, leaving him no more than a shell of a body. He swallowed hard, forcing his feet forward, trying not to think about the fact that her loving gaze and warm smile wouldn’t be there to greet him at the door. His heart hurt. And a grit-like sensation stung his eyes.

In this moment, even the birds seemed to have gone silent, as though honoring the loss of that warmth and brightness which had once occupied the house. She was gone, he thought, swaying a bit, feeling like he might fall to his knees. He could feel it; she was gone. He blinked rapidly, inhaling slowly.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Ikusagami’s gruff voice split through the tranquility like an arrow whizzing towards its mark with expert precision. 

Tomoe’s eyes flew open, and he shot Ikusagami the nastiest look he could muster. “This is my home,” he spat brokenly, tone wavering.

To this, Ikusagami didn’t respond. Not to goad him. Not to sneer at him. He only looked at him, his expression hard yet otherwise unreadable. Out of his peripheral vision, Tomoe noticed Otohiko standing a few steps away from Ikusagami, something somber about his demeanor. While Otohiko had been noisy all throughout the journey, now he eschewed words. Even he held reverence for this place, Tomoe thought. For that much, he was grateful.

After a few beats of staring Ikusagami down, he faced forward and ascended the steps of the house. This was his and Nanami’s home. The home they were supposed to raise their children in. The home they were supposed to share until Nanami was old and grey. The home he’d built with his own two hands, with such love and care and consideration. He swore, if there wasn’t so much as a trace of Nanami at the house, he would cry.

Because, deep inside, he was beginning to think — she wasn’t just gone from this house. She was gone for good.

His chest heaved, his chin lowering. For just a second, he forgot how to breathe. But as swiftly as it came, he seized control and stuffed the feeling down. He had to get himself together. For Nanami’s sake.

Slowly, he opened the door, and then he glanced over his shoulder towards Ikusagami and Otohiko in silent invitation. They came forward just as he ducked inside. Although he’d already known what he would — or, rather, wouldn’t — find, the emptiness which enveloped him still shook him to his core. He couldn’t feel any trace of energy, not one spark of her presence even in the form of a ghostly imprint, and with her departure there was also the absence of warmth. It was like she’d taken it with her when she’d gone. His grief doubled.

As he staggered inside, his eyes swept over the large room, over the few belongings they’d left behind still waiting patiently in place, ready to be used again. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and drifted farther into the house, like a specter, haunted and transparent. He stopped in the middle of the floor, staring at the hearth, wondering what he was going to do now.

“Nobody’s here,” Otohiko mused and, out of his peripheral vision, Tomoe saw him standing with a hand planted on his hip. “I wonder why Ookuninushi-sama thought coming here would help.” He hummed, then ran a finger over a side table.

“He sent us on a wild goose chase,” Ikusagami growled. “What a waste of time.”

Hearing Ikusagami use those words to describe their pilgrimage here — that it was a waste — shattered something so far inside Tomoe that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. Tightening a hand into a fist, claws cutting into his palm, he turned a cold stare in Ikusagami’s direction. The other god stared him down with just as much unspoken vitriol burning in his eyes, all but willing him to die on the spot.

“Is it just me, or is it getting hostile in here?” Otohiko clicked his tongue. “Stop it, you two. If there’s nothing here to point us to the girl, then let’s be on our way.”

It was both a relief and a source of anguish to be told they should leave. Somehow, he knew he’d never set foot in this house again. Just like that, everything he’d hoped for, everything he’d worked so hard for, had vanished. And it had all disappeared in plumes of smoke along with his life mate — and his children.

The thought of never seeing them again, of never meeting his cubs, stabbed him like a red-hot poker. His ears plastered to his head, and sorrow nearly swallowed him whole. His vision blurred.

This time, he couldn’t stop it. An animal-like cry tore from his throat. He stood in the middle of that vacant room, crushed by the weight of his grief, the kind that caved his chest in and cracked every rib. He shuddered, and then a guttural sob pulled from him, wracking his chest with deep, splintering pain. He could feel his heart breaking like it’d never broken before, leaving behind the kind of spearing pangs that would surely kill him. Without Nanami, he was empty, no more than a husk of a person. And with her disappearance, his home, his safety, and his comfort had vanished too.

Deafening silence crashed around him, broken only by the sounds of his shuddering, hitched breaths and his deep, shaking cries. He felt like he was floating outside of himself, his head all at once filled with fuzz and too much pressure. His cheeks felt too hot, too wet, and the room spun. In that moment, he was more alone than he’d ever been in his entire life.

A light touch on the shoulder startled him, and he gasped, eyes snapping open. A soft, scented cloth dabbed at his cheek, and he turned to see a wavering vision of Otohiko, something sympathetic softening the other man’s gaze. Stunned that a god would tend to his sorrow so freely, he blinked, his tears evaporating.

“I know,” Otohiko soothed, dabbing his other cheek. “But crying won’t bring her back. Let’s keep looking, okay?”

Haltingly, Ikusagami muttered, “We’ll probably have more luck down south.”

“But my foxfire—” Tomoe began, breathless.

“Has limitations,” Otohiko finished. “We’re gods. We have more insight into this than a wild yokai. That’s why you came to us, isn’t it?” Here, he offered a tiny smile. “So dry your eyes, and we’ll head south.”

Humbled, Tomoe nodded. He sniffed, looking from Otohiko to Ikusagami. Even thought they’d been reluctant to help him, he had to admit — they showed more compassion than he’d expected them to. Perhaps seeing him in tears over Nanami had shown them how serious this was. And that additional support gave him the tiniest shred of consolation.

Before he could express his gratitude, there was a vibration in the atmosphere, a low, growling undertone to the silence. Immediately, he froze. Glancing at Otohiko and Ikusagami, he noticed they’d both tensed as well. Ikusagami’s hand fluttered to the hilt of his sword.

“What was that?” Otohiko asked quietly.

“Don’t know,” Ikusagami replied, jaw flexing, his fingers tightening at the tip of the hilt. He took one step forward, the floorboards creaking beneath his boot. Tomoe’s heart rabbitted. “Whatever it is, it’s powerful.”

“A god?” Otohiko asked, dropping his voice even lower. “A yokai?”

Here, Ikusagami grunted, his steely gaze fixed on the door. He began to draw his sword, the blade scraping against the sheath, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness of the house. There was another energy pulse, this one stronger. Unease filled Tomoe to the brim, and he exchanged a glance with Otohiko.

“A yokai,” Tomoe murmured, to which Otohiko nodded, his expression darkening.

Before any of them could say another word, a sudden energy exploded from all sides, the aura itself licking Tomoe’s skin like red hot flames, overpowering and oppressive. Both Otohiko and Ikusagami jolted, as though uprooted by an earthquake. A strong scent followed the energy pulse — the scent of smoke, of forest. Something distinct, strong, fiery. Tomoe’s eyes widened as he realized that the gods weren’t the only ones who had found them.

“Is that who I think—?” Otohiko began.

A second later, the front door burst and the frame split, splinters of wood flying in all directions, the rice paper tearing straight through. Otohiko yelped as a chunk of the wreckage smashed against his shoulder. But Tomoe paid him no mind, because a tall, imposing figure stood in the doorway, clad in black, his horns silhouetted against the light spilling in from the outside. A soft breath caught in Tomoe’s throat, his eyes huge.

“Finally found you, brother.”

This was why Ookuninushi had sent them here, Tomoe realized. Damn that bastard. He’d told Ookuninushi that this was the one thing he couldn’t do, and the god had tricked him. The coward had known. And now he was cornered.

From his side, he heard the sound of metal scraping, and then the glint of silver and gold caught his eye. He whipped his head to the side just in time to see Ikusagami lunge forward, raising his sword to the heavens, the flames of hell itself burning in his eyes. In that split second, Tomoe saw his own life flash before him — that moment in the brothel when Ikusagami had attacked him and then the searing pain of his lifeblood spilling between his fingers on the riverbank. His calves tensed, preparing to spring and tackle Ikusagami, to save Akura.

A blur of black and silver swung through the air. The resounding crack of Akura’s club making contact froze the blood in Tomoe’s veins, and then Ikusagami flew through the air with sickening speed, crashing through the back doors. The doors ripped and clattered loudly, overshadowing the weighted thump of Ikusagami’s motionless body on the veranda. A part of Tomoe hated to see this happen, because they were destroying his safe haven, the haven he’d built with Nanami. It was the last piece of her he had left.

“Ikusagami!” Otohiko cried out in horror.

Akura leaned his club against his shoulder and stepped forward, his boots thunking heavily on the floorboards. “What’s all this about, Tomoe? What are these kami bastards doing here?” His scowl deepened, and he stopped in front of Tomoe. While Akura made no other move against him, his eyes razed Tomoe, as though devouring him whole.

“Akura, you were not supposed to—” Tomoe stopped there. 

He had been going to say Akura wasn’t supposed to be awake yet — that his spell should’ve lasted for quite some time — but that was irrelevant. Because Akura was awake and he was here. This proved that Nanami hadn’t been safe. How swiftly Akura had found them once word had spread.

A hand grasped his arm suddenly, and Tomoe flicked a glance to find Otohiko clinging to his sleeve. The wind god’s face paled. “What is he doing here?” Otohiko’s voice strained, though Tomoe could tell he was trying to keep it together. Perhaps seeing Ikusagami thrown like a rag doll had been too much. Because if even a war god couldn’t fight Akura off, then he must’ve been thinking he couldn’t either.

“I am not sure, but I believe Ookuninushi must have known. That is why he sent us here,” Tomoe growled. 

At this, Akura released a laugh, the sound cut and dry. “Why am I here? Seriously?” This time, he reached out, grabbing Tomoe by the arm, yanking him away from Otohiko. His golden eyes narrowed, locking on the wind god. “Don’t touch him. Neither of you are gonna lay a hand on my brother.” Here, he snuck a glance at Tomoe. “Even if you did betray me.”

Tomoe’s ears flattened against his head, his chest tightening. He declined to say he could’ve killed Akura, that putting him to sleep had been the more attractive choice. Akura had been meant to sleep for a hundred years. That would’ve been long enough for Nanami to have been safe. It seemed he’d underestimated Akura’s ability to purge himself of toxins.

Since Tomoe said nothing, Akura continued. “What, cat got your tongue? I’m not holding it against you.” Idly, he bumped the club against his own shoulder, his gaze never leaving Tomoe’s. “Do you know why?”

Ears still pinned to his head, Tomoe stared the other yokai down, gaze cold. “Leave, Akura.”

A snort left Akura. “Really? You’re gonna send me away when these kami are here? When Ikusagami almost killed you? You really have lost your mind.” Akura stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Tomoe. “I’m not holding it against you because that wench bewitched you. Which is hilarious because you’re the fox.” He studied Tomoe’s gaze. “And she’s made you so soft you’re gonna let these kami arrest you? Kill you? Are you stupid?”

“I will not allow them to lay a finger on me.” Tomoe’s tail snapped behind him. “They are only here because of an agreement.”

Akura seized him by the front of the kimono, yanking him close, close enough that Tomoe could feel his hot breath on his face. “So now you’re making deals with the kami? That stupid girl has made you weak. You’ve spent too much time with those insects. Did you forget how much stronger you are than them?” He shook Tomoe, enough to jerk his neck, to send a small flash of pain down his spine.

Behind them, there was the sound of scuffling on the floorboards, and Tomoe flicked his gaze over Akura’s shoulder. Ikusagami had recovered and was on his feet. He still seemed stunned, but his grip on the sword told Tomoe he was preparing to attack again. Meanwhile, Otohiko stayed far out of the way. Smart god, he thought. Using wind in cramped quarters like this wouldn’t have been effective.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Akura shook Tomoe again, drawing his attention. “That woman changed you. She took you away from me. You know you’re nothing against the gods without me as your shield.” His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, flashing, fiery.

“It does not matter,” Tomoe said through his teeth. “They can do whatever they like to me. You can do whatever you like to me. But I will never, ever go back to the fox I was.” His lips pulled back in a snarl. “This is my home, Akura! And Nanami is my family! If I must live like a human to be with her, then that is what I choose because I will it. Not because she has bewitched me.”

There was a terrible silence. Akura studied him, unblinking. Tomoe returned his stare, the only sound that of his own ragged breaths. A maniacal grimace stretched Akura’s lips.

“Is that so? You’re gonna live like a human?” A cacophonous laugh ran through the house, and then Akura dropped his club, the weapon bashing the floorboards. He seized Tomoe’s kimono in both hands. “Fine! If you’re gonna crawl in the dirt with those worms, I might as well kill you.”

Clenching his teeth, Tomoe seized Akura’s wrists. The other’s grip was too firm on his kimono, and the fabric tore from the effort of shoving him off. A curse escaped Tomoe, but the kimono was the least of his worries. Because Akura wasn’t so much as smiling, and he’d always loved to tease him about his affinity for beautiful clothes. It struck him then —  Akura meant it this time.

Tail swaying back and forth, ears flattened, Tomoe lowered his head, something threatening in his posture. “You may try all you would like. That is just the way you are. But once you are through with me, let it be the end of that. You must promise me that much. You must promise to leave Nanami alone.”

“Dumb fox—” Akura began.

A whistle pierced the air as a blade soared towards Akura. “Grab him, Tomoe!” Ikusagami snarled.

Akura whirled to face Ikusagami, something wild and manic spreading across his mouth. Tomoe jumped, preparing to stop Ikusagami, to demand they leave because this was a distraction, but he wasn’t quick enough. The sword crashed down between Akura’s horns with a crack, splitting his skull wide open. Blood and tissue spattered from the impact, spraying Ikusagami’s blade, his hands, his breastplate. Several damp flecks hit Tomoe’s cheek, and the scent combined with the sight of Akura’s skull crunched in made Tomoe’s breath hitch. He stumbled backwards, a hand over his mouth, eyes huge and heart rabbiting.

A low chuckle rumbled in Akura’s throat, followed by a sizzling sound. Before their eyes, skull and bone fused back together, his scalp closing, as though sewn together by invisible hands. “You’re a fool,” Akura growled, grasping Ikusagami by the base of his breastplate, lifting him off the ground.

Once more, Ikusagami swung. The sword struck Akura’s throat with a squelching thunk and a horrific snap. Before the blade could slice his neck clean through, Akura hurled Ikusagami across the room. Otohiko shrieked and leapt out of the way as the other god sailed through the air, smashing through the back wall of the house. Almost immediately, the tendons and muscles of Akura’s throat threaded tendrils together, followed by a knitting of flesh. He lifted his head, cracking his neck.

“You dumbass. You can’t kill me.” Akura smirked.

“I think we should leave, Tomoe-kun.” Otohiko’s voice was strained, alarm on his features. 

Neither he nor Ikusagami were cut out to fight Akura — and certainly not on their own, Tomoe thought. If the two gods had been alone, if Akura hadn’t presented a threat to Nanami, then Tomoe would’ve surely agreed.

Shooting Otohiko a scathing glare, Akura said, “I’m not done with Tomoe.” He seized Tomoe by the hair, tugging so sharply, the tension so tight, that it drew a yelp from him. “Now are you gonna explain why you betrayed me to live like a human with that woman? I’ll give you another chance. All you have to do is give up that damn woman.”

Tomoe sucked in a breath through his teeth, fangs clenched, body quivering as the anger built inside of him. “You are making things worse!” he barked. “Do you not see? The fact that you have treated me like this is why I left you behind. Not only because of Nanami!”

Akura yanked a handful of hair near Tomoe’s ear, grasping the appendage as well. The pain pulled a yelp from him, and shame filled Tomoe’s head. “It is because of that woman!” Akura snarled. “You never had a problem with me before!”

He jerked on Tomoe’s ear hard enough to rip the edge, and tears gathered at the corners of Tomoe’s eyes. Enough was enough. “Stop manhandling me! I will not allow it!” He grabbed Akura’s throat, digging his claws into the tender skin there, scratching desperately.

“Is that how you’re gonna play it? Turning your back on your brother for an insect and a few kami? Wow, Tomoe. I’m hurt.” When Tomoe met his eyes, beneath the burning inferno, he spotted something pained. The longer he looked, the more he recognized it from the reflections of himself he’d seen. Loneliness. Fear. Longing.

“Akura—”

Akura didn’t let him finish. “Fuck you. I’ll make you come to your senses. Don’t forget who protects you ‘cause you can’t regenerate like I can. The longer you’re away from me, the more vulnerable you are. They’ll kill ya.” A wicked grin spread across his face, showcasing his sharp teeth. He spoke just above a whisper. “That’s why I’ve sent my people out to look for her. For that woman.”

Tomoe’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. “You would not—” Another yank at his ear, and he whimpered before he caught himself. He dug his claws in deeper, until they pierced the skin of Akura’s throat. There was no blood to pool under his nails.

“I already have.” Akura leaned so close their noses brushed. “We’ll hunt her down like an animal. If you think you can hide her, you’re wrong. I told you — I always find what you hide from me.”

Grip tightening, crushing Akura’s windpipe, Tomoe growled, “Is this some game to you? Why must you always act like this? If you cared for me, you would not take away the things that bring me happiness and comfort!”

“Like you weren’t happy before,” Akura scoffed. “Listen, brother. They’re gonna kill her. You have to come back to your senses. This is for your own good.”

Tomoe pulled shallow breaths in through an open mouth. His heart rate increased to twice its normal pace, pumping adrenaline through his veins, his entire body tensing. His life mate was being threatened; his cubs were in danger. “You would not dare.”

“You think I wouldn’t? Don’t you know anything about me?” Akura sneered. “And you claimed to be my brother.”

He wasn’t bluffing. And something inside Tomoe snapped. He gnashed his teeth and flung Akura back with all his might, fingers curling into garish claws. In his haste, he forgot the hold Akura had on him, and the pull at his ear, the rip at his hair, sent a shock of fiery pain down his spine. His loud yipe filled the house. This time, Akura succeeded in tearing some of his hair out, leaving his scalp throbbing, hot. A warm, wetness surfaced there, but he ignored it. Instead, he lowered his head again, his tail flicking, something murderous gleaming in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Akura raised his voice. “I’m getting you out of this mess! You’re with that asshole who tried to kill you—”

“And now you care?” Tomoe’s voice boomed, resounding off the walls, and he cracked his knuckles, baring his claws. Flames flickered at his fingertips, growing into a ball of foxfire. “I think not. I will not have you threatening my wife or my cubs.”

The last part had come out unintentionally, but the moment Akura’s brow furrowed and a smirk spread over his mouth, Tomoe knew he’d said the wrong thing. “Interesting. So you have another distraction. No wonder the gods have you cornered.”

Perhaps Akura didn’t say it, but Tomoe could tell by the gleam in his eyes — he would kill his cubs too. The image flashed through his mind before he could stop it — the sight of Nanami’s glassy, sightless eyes fixed on the heavens, her abdomen gashed wide open. And beside her… He cried out in anguish.

There was no more time for hesitation. In an instant, any remaining loyalty to Akura dissipated in smoke, and he burst forward on a blast of foxfire, so quickly the eye couldn’t perceive it. He had to protect his wife; he had to protect his children.

Akura had no chance to defend himself. Tomoe punched a hand straight through his sternum aiming for his heart. Bone cracked and splintered, muscle severing and slick warmth smearing up his arm. It wouldn’t kill him, he thought. But perhaps it would incapacitate him long enough.

“You fucking fox,” Akura rasped, coughing thickly. Ink burbled up his throat, rattling, seeping from the corner of his mouth. Yet he continued to stand.

Panic flooded Tomoe’s veins. On instinct, foxfire exploded from his hands, roaring inside the cavity he’d created. Instantly, the force knocked Akura backwards, sending him through the wall after Ikusagami. Again, Otohiko cried out. And when Tomoe saw his former friend lying on the veranda, fresh grief and heartache like he’d never known radiated through his chest. He could feel the bits of flesh under his nails, and when he looked down, he noticed a black substance coating his hand, his sleeve. What had they done?

An utterance of surprise from Otohiko distracted him for just a second, and a quick glance showed him that the god had backed against the wall. “Tell me you have a plan,” Otohiko said. “That monster is indestructible!”

Tomoe’s ears pinned back. “I have no time to discuss this,” he said, stalking towards the back door, his heart hammering in his ears. “He will not be down long.”

Outside, there was a noisy slapping against the floorboards of the veranda, the building shaking from the vibrations. He leapt through the back door to see what was going on, expecting Akura to be coming to. Instead, he found Akura sprawled on the veranda and Ikusagami climbing his way on top of it with much effort, grunting. For a fleeting second, his eyes met the war god’s.

“Do something, Tomoe,” Ikusagami commanded. “This isn’t about loyalty anymore. This is about survival.”

Never had Tomoe expected to agree with Ikusagami. Regardless of how they felt about each other, it was clear — neither of them would be able to take Akura down, not without teaming up.

“Get up—” Tomoe began, but a scraping sound interrupted him. The hackles on the back of his neck raised.

Akura coughed, that same blackened substance oozing from his lips. The gaping hole through his chest began to close, and he raked his claws against the veranda to find leverage. They didn’t have much time. One more glance at Ikusagami, and understanding passed through the air.

Tomoe lunged, grasping Ikusagami’s arm, pulling him to his feet. Ikusagami had scarcely found his balance before he charged, wielding his sword. The heavy sound of the blade slicing air met Tomoe’s ears, but the sword never made contact.

Akura’s boot swiped through the air, landing a hefty kick to Ikusagami’s shins, sending him tumbling from the veranda with a grunt. While he was down, Tomoe conjured foxfire and lunged, but Akura tore one of the floorboards from the veranda and swung it viciously. The painful smack of wood bruised Tomoe’s cheek, sending a pang through his temples, momentarily knocking him off balance. 

He staggered on his feet, aware of the sound of splintering wood just to his right. Turning, he found that Akura had seized a support beam from beneath the veranda and wrenched it from its place. When Ikusagami rose to his feet, Akura swung the beam at him, hitting him squarely in the temple, the force sending Ikusagami back a few feet until he hit the ground with a thud. The war god didn’t move.

While Akura was distracted, Tomoe lunged at him again. Akura whirled around, dropping the beam, strong hands catching him by the shoulders. He held Tomoe at arms’ length, even as he clawed foxfire at him, snarling like a wild animal.

“What happened to you, Tomoe?”

“What happened to me? What happened to you?” Tomoe snapped, flames flaring in his palms. “You were supposed to be on my side! Not destroy the ones dear to me!”

Hurt filled Akura’s eyes, his mouth tugged in a frown, twitching at the corner. And that look told Tomoe — Akura felt he had no choice, just like he didn’t feel he had a choice either. Two brothers, turned against one another, each thinking he was justified in his actions. It was too late to turn back now.

“And you were supposed to be on mine.” Akura stared him down. “You’re not gonna be, though, are you?”

“No! Not after what you have done! It is irredeemable!” Tomoe spat.

Slowly, Akura’s expression morphed, and though Tomoe could still see the hollowness in his eyes, it sank below the surface. Akura snapped. “Then if you’re really gonna wallow with the worms, I have to kill you!” An honor killing, Tomoe realized.

“How dare you!” Tomoe’s voice rang in the glade. A burst of foxfire flooded over him, and he unleashed it, surrounding Akura in it, scorching him alive. But it wasn’t hot enough.

With a sneer, Akura threw him off, until Tomoe’s spine and the back of his head cracked against one of the posts of the veranda. “I told you — I’m gonna kill you, and then I’m gonna kill your woman!”

Black and purple dots clouded Tomoe’s vision, his focus shifting in and out. The shadowed silhouette of his former friend made his way across the veranda. Akura would never stop blaming Nanami, Tomoe thought, panting shallowly. And that was what gave him the will to fight his once brother, to do what he had to do. He had to live.

Grief and rage mingled until he was sick to his stomach. He ignored the nausea, and when Akura leapt at him, preparing to claw Tomoe’s chest wide open, he shook off the dizziness long enough to sweep a hand through the air. Foxfire flared out of his palm, throwing Akura from the veranda with a deafening blast. The cawing of crows sounded from the treetops, wings beating and fluttering through the air as they fled from the melee. But the same sense of self-preservation manifested as another drive inside of Tomoe. Fight.  

Growling, tail flicking, Tomoe heeded the wild instinct beating inside of him. He had to protect his mate; he had to protect his cubs. He stalked down the veranda towards his opponent, his head lowered, like a predator cornering prey.

Finding Akura on the ground, he sprang from the veranda. Just as Akura got to his feet, Tomoe pounced him, pinning him to the ground, a forearm against his throat and a knee to his stomach. He jabbed him in the stomach, drawing a grunt from him. Their eyes locked, hatred crackling like lightning in the air between them.

“It’s too late, Tomoe,” Akura rasped, but Tomoe cut off his breath, pressing his weight down on him with all the heaviness that he felt in his heart.

Those words, that look in his eyes… Tomoe could see the anger and hurt beyond the determination, beyond his vow to kill. And maybe Akura didn’t know for sure yet, but he’d said so much — that he’d sent mercenaries after Nanami. Just like he had before. And he’d never stop until the deed was done.

It struck Tomoe then why he couldn’t find Nanami. It wasn’t that he’d lost his touch. It wasn’t that one human was capable of shielding herself from the gods, yokai powers or not.

Akura had done it, he realized, his breaths coming quicker and quicker, his thoughts rushing in a cacophonous blur within his mind. Akura had taken his mate from him. Fresh fury swelled from his chest to his head, and he was unable to catch his breath, dizziness swirling him around and around until the world tilted on its axis. In that moment, the man before him had no other identity than a cold-hearted killer, a murderer who had wrenched everything from him with no remorse and no regard for life.

He had no choice; he had to kill Akura.

“I will never forgive you,” Tomoe whispered, heated and hoarse. His tail snapped back and forth.

A sharp sting tore through his clothing and into his fleshy midst. Akura’s claws penetrated the vulnerable organs beneath. Tomoe’s breath hitched and he gagged, sputtering, blood spewing from his mouth. Ignoring it, he lifted a hand, foxfire growing larger and larger. The hatred spurred him on, even as his body weakened.

“You killed her!” Tomoe shouted.

He gave Akura no chance to respond. In the next second, he shoved his claws and foxfire straight through the other’s forehead, punching through until damp earth dug under his nails. Akura’s body convulsed beneath him, but he wasn’t going to give him a chance to recover. Even as Akura’s claws sank deeper and deeper inside of him, a pained wheeze filling his throat, he didn’t stop. Shoving him into the dirt, he choked the other man with his forearm, foxfire surging larger, no doubt filling his former friend’s skull. He’d cook him alive.

A claw pierced a particularly vital organ. With another half gag, half sneeze, bright red blood exploded from Tomoe’s mouth, spattering in droplets over Akura’s cheeks. His vision dimmed, the world spinning around him. From his peripheral vision, he noticed Ikusagami staggering towards them, dragging the tip of the sword over the ground. He was badly injured, Tomoe thought, coughing again, spitting up blood. Red, so much red. His vision was bathed in images of red and a black that was blacker than black.

Before he could pass out, he did the unthinkable. He rasped to the war god, “Do it now.”

A hefty thunk. But Tomoe had no idea what had happened. All he knew was that he felt Akura’s chest cave in with his breath. A final breath. And then he dropped on top of the body, jerking involuntarily, breaths rattling and loud. He was so very cold.

Right as the last of his vision faded away, Nanami’s warm, beaming smile imprinted on his eyelids. The sharp sting of tears surfaced, a shaking breath leaving him, his body trembling. Reaching out a hand, he swiped at the air for her, trying to grab her as those dark, playful eyes danced, teasing him, inviting him to come with her. But he couldn’t follow.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her as the distance between them grew.

The last thing that inundated his senses was the scent of salt, the warmth of two tears trailing down his cheeks. And then, silence encompassed him. 

Chapter Text

Muffled voices filled the background. Tomoe floated, buoyant, feeling like he was encompassed by the ocean itself. But the little effort it took to breathe told him he was on dry land. Where was he? Wherever he was, he hadn’t expected to ever wake up again. But perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps ayakashi did go somewhere when they died. Perhaps he could see her again—

Before the ember of hope had a chance to burn brightly, he snuffed it out.

No, she was gone. He knew that now. Her presence was missing in this world, and he’d known that from the beginning when his foxfire had never returned, when something empty and hollow had filled his entire chest, no matter how much he hadn’t wanted to admit it. But she was gone. And now he was all alone in this world.

A hand fell on his forehead, and he flinched, one ear flicking, the sensation of being touched foreign to him. That strange touch didn’t feel hot or cold, and his sleep-addled brain struggled to process who this was, to process what had happened to him. That hand was warm, the touch soft. At first, he wanted to melt into that small comfort, to steal it for himself and hide away in it, but it was nothing like Nanami’s affection. The person with him now didn’t caress him, didn’t hold his head in their lap, didn’t stroke his hair and rub his ears. As that hand passed over his face again, he realized this scent was male in nature. This scent was of a god.

It came back to him in bits and pieces — the battle he and Ikusagami had waged against Akura-Ou. The threat Akura had posed. The betrayal. And not only Akura’s betrayal, but his own against the oni, reaching its crescendo with his command for Ikusagami to do it now. There was no coming back from that, if it’d been real. But it felt so far away, and he felt so removed from his own body. The only thing that kept him rooted here was cool fingertips tracing his forehead.

He didn’t know what would happen to him at this point. And a part of him didn’t care. But if there was any chance at all that what he’d experienced had been a dream, that he could wake up from this nightmare, then he’d force himself back into this world.

Twitching his fingertips and toes, he realized he could move again. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and he found himself staring up at the wooden beams of a ceiling. It certainly didn’t look the same as the house he shared with Nanami, sequestered far away in the rural mountains of the north. He blinked these visions away rapidly, allowing the familiar room to come into focus. That was when he realized that he was at a shrine — Mikage shrine.

A confused sound caught in his throat, and he turned his head to the side. At the sight of Ookuninushi, Otohiko, and Ikusagami staring at him, he jolted in surprise. They were still here, and yet they hadn’t bound him. In fact, the first two seemed concerned, oddly subdued for the types of gods they were. Even Ikusagami was silent despite his scowl and crossed arms, more solemn than hardened. And the bandages that wrapped the war god’s head provided all the evidence Tomoe needed to know that their battle hadn’t been a dream. His heart sank.

“Ah, Tomoe-kun, you’re awake.”

That gentle, warm voice wrapped around him like a blanket, and when he turned towards it, he found Mikage hovering over him at his other side, offering a kind smile. Tomoe’s gaze softened, his brow creasing. A lump came to his throat, but his eyes felt as dry as the desert, gritty with sand and heat. He couldn’t reply right away, instead staring at Mikage, more helpless than he’d ever been in his life.

“You gave us quite a scare,” Mikage continued. His soft touch lighted on Tomoe’s injured ear and, with it, a sensation of soothing, of healing, followed. In a beat, his ear didn’t hurt anymore, but the pain in his heart remained.

Otohiko piped up. “You should be grateful to Ookuninushi-sama. He brought you back from the brink of death before you couldn’t be recovered.”

Ikusagami huffed. “I don’t know why he did it. Troublesome fox.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be so cruel! Tomoe has done us a big favor,” Ookuninushi admonished, frowning at the war god. “Bringing him back to life was the least we could do.”

He’d been dead. Tomoe blinked up at Mikage, confused. Why did he remember everything, then? And how was this possible? Ayakashi didn’t go anywhere when they died. It wasn’t like Ookuninushi could’ve asked his grandmother for a favor. Because foxes like him didn’t go to the netherworld.  

His mouth felt like cotton, but he still managed to ask, “How?” His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“You are a very powerful ayakashi.” For once, Ookuninushi smiled at him, something sympathetic in his gaze. “Your energy didn’t fade away quickly. Otohiko called for me in a panic so I came to heal you and Ikusagami.”

For a long moment, Tomoe watched him, blinking, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The gods had saved him. More than that, they’d granted him a second chance, had more than allowed him to live. To be resurrected was no easy feat. And for a god like Ookuninushi to revive a wild fox like him, someone who’d committed the worst atrocities, was near unfathomable.

Could it be that they’d washed his hands clean of bloodshed? He didn’t think it could be that easy. There was only one act that could’ve changed their minds about him. And that very act brought acid up his throat.

Mikage’s voice tore him from his thoughts, and his intuitive nature once again left Tomoe speechless. “I’m sure it’s difficult to see the gods as anything but your enemies, but you’ve changed, Tomoe. After what happened, you’ve more than proven yourself to us.”

His brown eyes regarded Tomoe with something he hadn’t seen from anyone — anyone apart from Nanami, that was. Yet, the sentiment behind them was different. Humans had different kinds of love for people, Nanami had told him before. Perhaps this was what she’d meant. Perhaps gods knew of these different kinds of love too. He found himself speechless.

“It was difficult for you to turn on your friend like that,” Mikage continued. “I know it must hurt.”

Tomoe’s eyes dulled over as he remembered why he’d killed Akura. That finally elicited a reaction from him. “I have lost everything that mattered to me,” he said quietly, then rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, body going limp. “My mate is dead.”

A terrible silence hung over the room. And that silence shouted louder than any words ever could. Silence was agreement.  

The intrusive thought passed through his mind then — was living worth it? He’d known it would hurt, but he hadn’t anticipated it would hurt so badly he wouldn’t want to live anymore. They should’ve left him to die. It was the kind of pain that was worse than a blade to the heart, worse than Akura’s claws puncturing every soft and vulnerable part of his body, worse than the hatred vehemently spewed from his brother’s lips. No, he wasn’t sorry he’d killed him, he decided, gritting his teeth, his vision blurring.

Still, he had to know if the damage he’d inflicted was permanent. He couldn’t have any peace of mind unless he knew Nanami had been given justice. “Tell me — is Akura truly dead?”

“More or less.” It was Otohiko who responded, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. “His body was weakened long enough for Ookuninushi-sama to separate it from his soul. He’s locked up in Yomi now. He won’t ever be able to break free.”

“We couldn’t kill him,” Ookuninushi added. “So this was the next best thing.”

Bitterness flooded his mouth, followed by the kind of grieved anger that made his entire body quake. So he hadn’t been able to kill Akura either. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting through an open mouth, that horrible stinging pressure all but imploding his skull. He simultaneously felt like screaming and withering into nothingness. Some good he’d done.

His chest heaved, his ears trembling. “I see,” he said, tone strained. 

Knowing Akura had been imprisoned wasn’t enough. It was unsatisfying, like a hunger that couldn’t be sated. Akura could burn in the fires of Jigoku for a hundred thousand years, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Compared to that, Yomi was a mere slap on the wrist. Yet without Nanami by his side, he didn’t have the will to fight anymore. 

Although he really didn’t want to hear the truth, he knew he had to. Not for closure, but for confirmation that he should resign himself completely. “And what of my wife? Has she passed on to the next life? She is no longer here. I can feel she is not.” 

As soon as the words left him, his eyes flooded over, and no amount of clenching his teeth could stop the maelstrom that raged inside of him. A hot tear spilled over, dripping down his nose. He swallowed, his chest seizing up.

Before he could completely crumble, Ookuninushi approached him. The god crouched by his side, and the sympathy softening his gaze was so foreign to Tomoe that it nearly shocked him from his tears. “I can’t say what happened to your wife, but I wouldn’t give up hope.”

“And why not?” Tomoe cried out, his ears drooping. “If she is not here, then surely she is in Yomi.”

“It’s true she isn’t here,” Ookuninushi agreed, his voice calm. “But I was in Yomi not that long ago. She is nowhere to be found there. Grandmother hasn’t seen her either. I think it’s safe to say she hasn’t passed on to the afterlife.”

At this, Tomoe’s eyes widened and he shot up, staring at the other god. His heart thrashed wildly, so hard it made his chest ache, and his breaths came as harsh pants. “Nanami is not dead?”

“No.” Ookuninushi shook his head. “But she isn’t with us either.”

“Then where is she?” Tomoe all but shouted. “Surely, you must know!” He held his breath, eyes boring into the god’s head, and that ever dangerous flame of hope burned inside him anew.

“We don’t know yet, but we have some theories,” Ookuninushi replied.

Before Tomoe could press him, Mikage piped up. “Yes, since Nanami-san told us she was from the future, we think she might’ve gone back to her own time.”

“What? But...how? If she had not returned in four years, then how could she have returned now?” Tomoe panted, eyes switching from Ookuninushi to Mikage and back again.

“She might’ve gotten stuck here, but she was never meant to be in this time period,” Mikage explained gently. “Our theory is that when she became pregnant with yokai, it allowed her to travel forward to her own time.”

Tomoe’s head whipped to the side as Ookuninushi spoke again. “Yes, time travel is an interesting matter. You see, every living being has a temporal pull that binds them to their era. Think of it like a tether. If you stray too far for too long, it’ll snap you back into place. That is, provided you have enough spiritual energy for it.”

“And an ordinary human doesn’t have a lot of spiritual power, so the pull was never strong enough to begin with,” Mikage agreed. “We’re not sure how she ended up here, but whatever happened, it seems like it was a freak accident.”

“Whatever it was, an ayakashi was certainly involved,” Ookuninushi continued. “But like Mikage said, we think it was an accident.”

“An accident?” Tomoe echoed. “How could an ayakashi be involved if it was an accident?” He scowled.

“We believe it was a combination of a time slip and an ayakashi at the wrong place at the wrong time. Something like that has a one in a billion chance of happening, but it is possible.” Mikage smiled wanly at Tomoe. “So, you see, not all hope is lost.”

Tomoe could hear his own breaths, shaky and shallow, his heart thudding in his ears. In the past, Nanami had told him she’d been from 2013. If that was the case, in five hundred years, he could try to find her again and ensure she was all right. Perhaps it was a long time, even for a yokai, but having an end in sight renewed his will to push forward. 

“So you are saying I only need to wait?” Tomoe asked.

At this, Ookuninushi and Mikage exchanged a glance. “Well,” Mikage said slowly, “we can’t make any promises because we don’t know for sure. None of us know what happened. If we had to guess then, yes, it’s possible you’ll be reunited in the future.” 

When Tomoe’s ears perked up, something hopeful and warm sparking in his chest, Ookuninushi interrupted. “Please don’t get your hopes up too high. We don’t know where she went. It could’ve been further in the past. Or further in the future. Or nowhere. We have no way of knowing.”

That was right, Tomoe thought, his ears lowering sideways. Just because she wasn’t dead didn’t mean he’d ever see her again. And that meant he might never see his cubs either. His eyes dropped to his lap, to his hands which suddenly felt so useless, so frail. The one thing he’d promised her — that he’d always be by her side — had ended up being an empty promise. He hadn’t been able to protect her.

“I will not give up so easily,” he muttered. “If there is a chance that she is still alive — that she is still out there somewhere — then I will find her. I will not stop searching until I do.”

“That might be difficult,” Ikusagami muttered, earning himself a sharp look from Ookuninushi. He ignored it. “Just because Ookuninushi spared your life doesn’t mean you’re free.”

Again, Tomoe’s ears perked up on high alert. He braced himself. “What do you mean?”

“You’re going to spend the rest of your life imprisoned. You’re still a threat,” Ikusagami’s voice was gruff. “I’d prefer a harsher punishment for the things you’ve done, so count yourself lucky.”

Imprisoned? His scowl deepened, fresh anxiety tightening in his chest. “I will not allow you to arrest me so easily! I will not harm anyone, but I must be free to continue searching for my wife—”

“Hold on, Tomoe.” A gentle hand fell to his shoulder, and he glanced at Mikage, panting noisily through his nose. “That’s not your only option. Ookuninushi has another deal to offer to you.”

“Well? What is it?” Tomoe snapped. “I have already helped you kill Akura. What more do you want from me?” Despite his hatred towards Akura, something sharp and stabbing pierced his chest. He sucked in a breath.

“We won’t lock you away, but you won’t be free.” Ookuninushi studied him, gaze even. Just as Tomoe opened his mouth to resist, he held up a hand. “Let me finish. You’ve proven that you want to change, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready to be free. Your power is too dangerous, and there are too many gods who want you dead. So please try to understand that this is for your protection as much as it is for theirs.”

It was for his protection too? Tomoe breathed heavily through his nose, his eyes locked on Ookuninushi, confusion furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?”

Ookuninushi lowered his hand, but he smiled all the same. “In exchange for your pardon, Mikage has asked for you to become his shinshi. It’s quite unconventional for a low-bred wild fox to become a divine servant, I’ll tell you that, but Mikage is just too soft for his own good.” He glanced at Mikage, shutting one eye, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“What? I care about Tomoe.” Dismay spread over Mikage’s mouth. This elicited a chuckle from Ookuninushi. Ignoring the other god’s mirth, Mikage turned to Tomoe, squeezing his shoulder. “Tomoe, I can understand if you’re hesitant. Being tied to a god is a big commitment. What I can promise is that you’ll have a safe place to stay while you wait for Nanami-san. I’ll give you a home and I’ll take care of you. That’s what I want to offer you.”

A home? Tomoe felt something in his chest squeeze. Nanami had been his home, he thought, his eyes stinging. To think of submitting himself, to lying down belly up, to committing his life to someone other than Nanami pierced him. He couldn’t stop the words which flooded from his mouth, carried by too much heartache and a barrage of emotions.

“I do not need to be taken care of—” Tomoe began to snap, hurt twinging in his chest. He felt like an injured animal, thrashing in the hold of a would-be caretaker, resisting. And he wanted to reject the offer just on principle alone, just on loyalty by itself. He belonged to Nanami, and only Nanami.

But then he stared deeply into Mikage’s eyes and he stopped. There wasn’t an ounce of expectation or demand or motivation in his gaze. There was nothing at all except for concern, empathy, kindness. The god was serious.

Thinking back to how Mikage had saved his life before, how he’d accepted Tomoe’s plea for help and convinced the head god of earth to let him go, he hummed and dropped his gaze to the ground. His family was his priority, he reminded himself. No matter what the sacrifice was, he should put Nanami first. He should put his cubs first. Even if that meant sacrificing his freedom. Even if that meant becoming the servant of a god and committing himself to this new life. After all, Mikage was offering him not only redemption, but asylum, immunity from the gods.

That peace of mind, that chance to weather the storm in a safe harbor, was worth it. Having Nanami back in his arms and his cubs safe in his care was worth any price.

Calmer now, he asked quietly, “The gods would not try to kill me again?”

It was Ookuninushi’s velvet-rich voice that answered. “No, you have my word.” 

Looking around the room, he found that three of the four gods regarded him with something he’d never expected from kami — sympathy, gratitude, respect. Humbled, ears lowering, he averted his gaze, feeling like his skin prickled. What was this feeling? He covered his mouth with a hand, squeezing his eyes shut.

Finally, he sighed and spoke. “If it will give me the chance to see Nanami again, I will do it without hesitation.”

The relief was palpable in the room. “I’m glad you made that choice,” Otohiko said. “It’d be a shame for a pretty fox like you to be locked away forever.”

Tomoe shot Otohiko a disdainful glare. “I am married, you fool.”

“I know.” Otohiko offered him a soft, feline smile, his eyes half lidding. “It’s a compliment, okay?”

Gradually, Tomoe relaxed. He was about to tell Mikage to do it, but the look on the god’s face stopped him in his tracks.

“There’s one thing you should know before you commit yourself to me as a shinshi.” Mikage held his gaze, and suddenly his expression was serious. “Once you bind yourself as my servant, I’ll be your priority. You won’t be able to help it. That’s the contract between a god and a shinshi.”

“What?” Tomoe blinked, then frowned. “What does that have to do with anything? Nanami and our cubs will always be my priority.”

Here, Mikage shook his head. “It can’t be helped; it’s an energetic tie that connects us. Of course it won’t diminish the love you have for your family, but you’ll be compelled to care for me as your god. That might be a problem if Nanami-san does return, but if that day comes, we’ll figure it out.”

Ears laying against his head, voice raised, Tomoe barked, “Do you mean to tell me you will keep me here? That I will not be allowed to be by my wife’s side?” He growled. “I made a vow to her first! I am her life mate; I am to always be by her side.” He narrowed his eyes. “That is the contract I have made with her. It will take precedence.”

Mikage sighed softly. “I’m afraid your priorities will change no matter what you think. But here’s what I’ll do for you.”

Tomoe’s tail swayed back and forth, eyes sparking, fangs clenched. But he remained rigid, still. “What?”

“If Nanami-san returns, I promise I’ll give you a choice — to stay with me as my shinshi, or for me to release you from the contract.”

A huff escaped him. “Well, that requires no thought.”

“Hear me out.” Mikage studied his face. “You might change your mind because of the contract. Five hundred years is a long time. That’s why I’m giving you the choice.”

“I would never change my mind about Nanami,” Tomoe muttered under his breath, sullen. “An ayakashi’s heart does not change.”

“But you have the capacity to change,” Mikage reminded him. “Before you get upset, let me offer you one more thing.” Even as Tomoe gazed at him warily, ears sideways, Mikage elected to smile. “If you choose to stay as my shinshi, and if Nanami returns and you want her companionship, then you’re both welcome at the shrine. Maybe things will be different, but it doesn’t mean it’ll be worse.”

“That is a small comfort.” Tomoe snorted.

He doubted he’d choose Mikage over Nanami — or anyone over Nanami for that matter — but the way the god had spoken of this sort of commitment worried him. Still, it seemed to be the best option to keep the gods off his tail. Akura had been right about one thing — it was much more difficult to fend off his enemies without help. No matter that he was more powerful than any individual god; the sheer number of them, the fact that they’d found him, meant that it was only a matter of time before they overtook him and locked him away. After all, years ago, he’d been struck by the curse seeds. He’d been ambushed by Ikusagami at the brothel. That had proven that he wasn’t as invincible as he’d thought he’d been. And without this agreement, that distraction of always watching his back, always worrying that they’d corner him, would hinder him from searching for Nanami.

He’d trusted Mikage twice already and the god had come through for him. In fact, Mikage had done more than shield him and keep his secret; he’d convinced the gods to spare him, to pardon him. And Mikage’s protection gave him a  greater chance of finding Nanami. As far as he could tell, Mikage did more than ask for his loyalty. Mikage had shown him loyalty first. That wasn’t a petty thing.

After a moment’s thought, Tomoe exhaled loudly. As far as his options were concerned, this was the best one. He’d have to trust Mikage to keep his word — and trust himself and his feelings for Nanami too. “Very well. If you will promise that I can be with Nanami no matter what, then I will do it.”

“I promise you can be with your wife. You’re right — you did make a contract with her first.” Here, Mikage laughed softly. “I am a god of marriage and matchmaking. I can honor that.”

“Good.” Tomoe nodded, then sucked in a shuddering breath. “All right. What must I do to make this contract? Do I need to make a vow in front of the gods?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he groaned. What was this, some twisted sort of marriage?

“No, it’s between you and me.” Here, Mikage stood, addressing the others. “Thank you so much for your help. I hope you’ll understand this is a private matter.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Ookuninushi rose as well. “I’m glad you’ve come around, Tomoe. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

“Yes, I am sure.” Tomoe’s tone was dull. The last thing he wanted was to run into them again, but he bit his tongue. After all, they’d done so much for him already. The least he could do was respect them this much. “Thank you for your assistance.” He bowed his head towards them.

Ookuninushi beamed. “It wasn’t much trouble. I’m glad it worked out for all of us.”

The gods exchanged goodbyes, and then disappeared in a flash of light and a crackling thunderbolt. Their energy disappeared from the shrine just as quickly, leaving behind the soft glow of Mikage’s aura. Tomoe’s eyes followed the god as he knelt again. Their eyes locked, and all around them, delicate teal butterflies faded into view, their wings beating softly in the air, cleansing it as they fluttered about. Cleansing him too, he realized.

“Tomoe,” Mikage began, and the gentleness in his voice gained Tomoe’s reverence. “From this day forward, you’re forgiven for the things you’ve done in the past. You are now purified — worthy to become a divine servant.”

Him, divine? Tomoe’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He could hardly comprehend what Mikage said to him. But it felt sacrilegious to speak, so he remained silent.

“You are now a spirit of this shrine — a kami in that sense. Will you accept me as your master?”

Looking into Mikage’s eyes, Tomoe realized he could trust him. And so he nodded. “Yes. I swear my loyalty as you have sworn yours to me.”

“Then let’s seal the contract.”

At first, Tomoe didn’t know what Mikage meant. But then the god caught his face in his hands, and every muscle in his body froze. Mikage pulled him closer, then pressed his mouth to Tomoe’s. A gasp escaped Tomoe, his eyes huge, his tail sticking out straight with his fur on end. But then he realized there was no heat behind the kiss — and it struck him in that microsecond that it was nothing more than a contractual kiss. So he returned the pressure for the second it lasted.

As soon as they parted, white rings of light appeared around his wrists and ankles. “What is—?” he began, but then they snapped around him, restraining him, drawing an angry sound from him.

The sensation was simultaneously sharp like lightning yet soothing in its warmth, surging and coursing through his body, locking onto every inch of his spirit. The unpleasant feeling was gone in a flash, replaced by something calm, pure, comforting. Slowly, he relaxed, leaning into that warmth.

“Welcome home, Tomoe.” Mikage gave him a smile, and Tomoe blinked, confusion furrowing his brow.

He had a new home now. Although his heart ached when he thought about Nanami, when he thought about the home and the life he’d been forced to give up, somehow this god had given him renewed hope. Perhaps he didn’t understand what being a shinshi meant yet, but a little voice in his head whispered — all he had to do was wait. Wait for Nanami; wait for her to return to him. In the meantime, he should repay his god’s generosity and kindness in any way he could. Yet all he could think to do was offer humility.

“Thank you.” A sad smile scrawled across his mouth, his brow creasing with something grateful. “I will do my best to make you happy.” 

The moment the words left his mouth, he recalled his vow to Nanami — to make her happy — and he started. Was what Mikage had said really true? Yet the slight pull behind his sternum, this yearning to fulfill his promise, was all too familiar.

It was that feeling he’d always had when he’d made such a lofty promise, using sentiments like forever and happiness and loyalty. And while he still felt that bone deep ache inside him that filled his ribcage with an unparalleled loneliness, he found himself wanting to please. Uneasy, he swallowed it back.

If Mikage found this surprising, Tomoe didn’t know, because the god failed to respond, only chuckling lightly and lifting his tengu fan. Despite the shock of his own words, Mikage’s aura covered him like a well-worn blanket, inviting him to rest, to make himself at home. In that moment, Tomoe knew that he was a part of Mikage’s family now. He wasn’t alone; he didn’t have to go through this by himself. And he wouldn’t live out the rest of his days in the kind of suffocating solitude that killed a person’s will to live bit by bit. That small kindness, that hope for a future, was the only thing that kept him from dissolving into fresh tears. Instead, he curled up at Mikage’s feet, desperate to be warmed, to be soothed. And Mikage only laid his hand on Tomoe’s head. Within seconds, drowsiness overtook him, his eyelids heavy.

“Sleep, Tomoe,” Mikage’s voice called from somewhere faraway. “And I’ll keep the weight of your broken heart from crushing you.”

Tomoe couldn’t fight against it. In the next instant, he shut his eyes, and he slept.

Chapter Text

Nanami moaned in pain as her consciousness returned to her. Her entire body ached like she’d been beaten within an inch of her life, and she felt foggy, confused. At some point during the night, the sharp pangs had awoken her, had left her panting shallowly, breaking into a cold sweat, and fighting off her nausea. It had taken all of her self-control not to writhe, not wanting to wake Tomoe, but as the pain had increased, she’d become more and more afraid of what was happening to her.

Then, a tearing pain had split through her, like her body had been ripped in half, along the strongest pull at her core that she’d felt to date. In the next instant, the tunnel that had previously beckoned her now consumed her, walls constricting around her. That familiar, acrid scent that she hadn’t been able to place had flooded her lungs, burning in her nostrils. And fear had gripped her full force as it ripped her away, hurtling her towards that blinding light, the glow gaping exponentially wider with each microsecond. Her resounding scream had been swallowed by deafening silence as the light flashed over her, bathing her in its ethereal brightness, like a pulsating star. 

After that, she’d blacked out. Now she was here, in this space where she felt so far away from Tomoe. She couldn’t feel him. Nor could she touch him, her icy fingertips twitching. Was she still dreaming? Tremors encompassed her from head to toe. Please wake up, she prayed, breathing shakily through parted lips. Please be a dream.

Gradually, her awareness returned. She realized she was lying on something hard, rough, cold. It felt like concrete. The putrid scent hit her next — the stench of diesel and exhaust fumes, of trash, a heaviness that signified pollution. In the distance, a siren wailed, the sound so piercing that it made her jolt, her heart jumping out of her chest, her eyes flying open. She found herself staring up at a fire escape, lying on her back with her hips turned, her legs twisted to the side.

Alarm spiked up her throat, followed by bile. All the input hit her at once, her senses heightened beyond anything she’d ever experienced before, and she found herself so overwhelmed she couldn’t process it all. What had happened? One moment, she’d been lying in a soft futon, surrounded by warmth, by strong arms, by a fluffy tail draped over her hip. Now she was here, and she felt so lost and confused and small, more vulnerable than she’d ever been in her life.

Mind reeling, she stared up at the blue sky between the two brick buildings, noticing the cumulus clouds rolling by. The weather was warm, springlike, the day bright and sunny. But here amongst the shadows, she was disoriented. She was lying in an alley, just like the one she’d disappeared in. She blinked hard, attempting to clear this vision.

Was she still asleep after all? She groped at the ground, but only dirt and grit met her touch. This didn’t feel like a dream; it felt and smelled and sounded too real. Dread began to coil in her stomach. And then a crack of realization hit her.

This wasn’t a dream.

She gasped out loud, shooting up, her heart thudding. No, this wasn’t real, a frantic voice shouted in her mind. Whipping her head one way and then the other, she found the illusion held. Her eyes grew wider, her breaths coming short and fast, a whimper dying in her throat. And she just couldn’t comprehend it.

In a pathetic tone, she called out, “Tomoe?” There was no response. “Oh, my god,” she whispered to herself, bringing her hands up to her mouth, entire body quivering. A part of her feared that what she had really dreamed had been her time with him. What if he had never even been real? What if she’d never left the alley on that fateful day?

Glancing down at her body, noticing she was dressed in the yukata she’d gone to bed in, she realized — no, she hadn’t dreamed it. Fleeting relief washed over her, but it was short-lived, because it didn’t change the fact that she was alone. Her worst fear had come true. 

A whimper caught in her throat, one hand fluttering to her stomach, nausea overtaking her. Quickly, she leapt to her feet, then immediately regretted it. Vertigo hit her, and she swooned, nearly toppling over. Thankfully, she caught her shoulder against the side of one of the buildings, breaths ragged.

If it hadn’t been a dream, and she was here now, did that mean that Tomoe…? Tears built in her eyes, heart beating wildly. No, it couldn’t be; she couldn’t be separated from him. He had to have come with her, right? She stumbled through the alley, looking for any sign of him, any clue at all that he was with her.

“T-Tomoe?” she called out again, voice wavering, teeth chattering. Nothing. A hiccup caught in her throat. “Tomoe!”

Her tears spilled over as reality settled in. She had fallen back to her time; she and Tomoe were separated by five hundred years. Whimpering, she covered her mouth with a hand, blinking wetly and leaning against the wall. The first thing she thought was — without him, she was vulnerable. She’d come to rely on him more and more these last few weeks, especially as her sickness had intensified, her attempts to push through it on her own failing. His presence had grounded her, had given her guidance and clarity when her own thoughts were clouded, had given her support when her body was feeble. What would she and her cubs do without him?

At this realization, fear seized inside of her. That was right — she was pregnant. And that meant she didn’t have the time to fret over whether Tomoe was there to help her or not. Right now, her cubs needed her to be strong, no matter how afraid or upset she was.

A small jump in her stomach startled her, reminding her of her fragile state. No, she couldn’t worry about Tomoe at all right now. Not when she needed to focus on herself, on her children’s well-being. Sniffing, she rubbed her eyes on the backs of her hands, doing her best to push her grief from her mind. She wasn’t alone anyway, she thought, lighting her fingers to her stomach. A flicker of energy met her fingertips as though to assure her, and she uttered a shaky laugh, the remnants of her tears clinging to her eyelashes.

“I know—” she began, but a stab of pain pierced her abdomen, knocking the breath out of her. She doubled over, grinding her teeth, a grunt catching in her throat.

Gods, not now, she thought, drawing deep, slow breaths through her nose, blowing out her exhalations. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing, praying that the feeling would pass. Her limbs reduced to gelatin, and she struggled to remain upright, planting her heels firmly into the concrete. 

If this didn’t pass soon, she wouldn’t be able to get help, she thought, heart racing uncomfortably. That was, if she could find help. She had no contacts, no money, no identification, nothing. Even so, she wondered if she could stumble to a hospital anyway, if they’d treat her and let her off with a debt. Debt was the last thing she wanted to accrue, but there wasn’t much choice.

Another wave of weakness washed over her, and she moaned quietly. Her hair stuck to the nape of her neck as sweat surfaced to her skin, and she pressed her cheek to the cool brick of the building. As she panted, trying to gather the strength to leave the alley, another thought struck her. Her children were yokai. Human healers had been no help in the past, and yokai were a thing of legends in the modern age. If anyone discovered her children were foxes, they would have no peace, she realized, a lump coming to her throat. Nor would they receive the treatment they needed.  

Her hope wavered, a cry muffled behind pressed lips. And when another swell of energy rose within her, overheating her insides, she crossed her arms over her stomach in a self hug. Her shoulders shook, her chest wracked with a gasp.

“Pull yourself together!” she thought, inhaling sharply. 

There was no time to snivel. It didn’t matter if she was in pain or not. She had to figure something out — and quickly. She had to have faith this feeling would pass. And perhaps it was her determination, or perhaps her cubs could sense her will, because the pain slowly faded. Now only weakness lingered. But she could push through that.

Straightening up, she wiped her eyes one last time. Logically, if she was in the same alley, then it could still be 2013, she thought. That presented its own problems — what she’d do about having aged, about her appearance having altered — but not all was lost. She’d still have her apartment, and though she didn’t have her key on her, her landlord would recognize her and let her in. She had a little money there, as well as food and clothing, she thought. Perhaps she could even find her old IDs. Expired or not, that had to count for something.

Since she was barefoot, she took care not to step on anything like broken glass or a rusty nail. She exited the alley and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, glancing around. Instantly, her blood ran cold, then rushed to her head. Had that corner cafe always been there? She’d taken this route plenty of times in the past, but now she couldn’t remember. It had been four years, though, she reasoned, and headed down the sidewalk tentatively. She was bound to have forgotten a few things. And of course she was more attuned to her surroundings now. After all, she’d just been through something immensely traumatic. She swallowed her anxiety.

Everything else looked more or less the same, she thought as she walked, glancing one way and then the other. Maybe a few things seemed slightly off, as though she’d appeared in an alternate universe where someone had pushed her to the left of this plane; however, she recalled that prior to her last interview in this time period, she hadn’t come this way for a month. She’d been too distracted at the time, she rationalized as she passed a familiar store, noting how the logo seemed slightly different than she remembered. Things could’ve changed a little even in a month.

A twinge in her stomach brought her attention back to her main problem. This was no time to gawk. She picked up the pace, doing her best to remain light on her feet and avoid injury. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a few heads turn her way, something she ignored until she came to a crosswalk and had to stop. A salaryman stared openly at her, drawing her nervous glance. While he didn’t say anything, his pursed lips told the whole story.

Quickly, she snapped her gaze forward. Of course he thought she was strange, she thought, her cheeks warm. Here she was, dressed in a sleeping yukata, barefoot and disheveled. They probably thought she was crazy. The light changed, and the salaryman hurried into the crosswalk, leaving her behind without a second glance. No one wanted anything to do with someone like her. And no matter how much it happened in her life, she felt like she’d never get used to it.

At least she’d reach her apartment soon, she thought, delicately stepping into the street, attempting to remain positive. More bystanders and pedestrians gaped at her, but she kept her head down, watching her feet, listening to the beep of the crossing signal. No one could help her but her. And getting upset over something as small as the judgment of strangers wouldn’t help her or her children. With this internal drive guiding her, she made it to the other side, and turned down a familiar sidestreet. 

Within a few blocks, she came upon the row of more familiar businesses, ones she remembered passing almost daily. She was almost at the restaurant she’d worked at during this time, she realized. Perhaps she should pop in to ask for help and apologize for not being able to come in for her shift. After all, if she was back to being on her own, then she’d need money. And that meant she needed to keep her job.

She turned the corner and brought her eyes up to the building before her. And when she saw the sign, she could feel the blood draining from her face. That wasn’t her restaurant. In its place stood a fine dining establishment, all traces of her former job erased. Her breaths came faster, her eyes wide. She hadn’t returned to the same day, she realized. Not to mention, the cherry trees which had lined the streets had bloomed out, mature green leaves in their place.

How long had it been? Was it even still 2013? If even a month or two had passed, then her bank account had run dry, her payments on her apartment having ceased. If it had been over six months, then surely she’d been evicted, all her things thrown out. Did people even know she was still in this world? For all anyone knew, she might as well be dead.

She began to pant. Please stay calm, she inwardly begged. That was hard to do when her body ached, when her feet hurt, when she was so tired and her luck seemed to have run out. She’d used all her karma in the last few years. If only the restaurant were still there; if only there was someone she could call. But she had no friends, no family, and no way to contact her former coworkers. A whimper turned into a cry.

Stop panicking, she berated herself, her vision swimming. Stop panicking right now. There was still a chance. The weather was warm, but not sweltering, so she deduced it was either late spring or early summer. It could’ve only been a month or two, she bargained with herself. If that was the case, then it wouldn’t be so strange for her to turn up at her apartment again. People went missing all the time, didn’t they? If it had been for a short period, she could claim there had been an emergency. Maybe she could get off the hook and buy herself some time.

She whirled back in the direction she’d been headed. She had to talk to her landlord. But only a few steps in, she stopped. What if she had been gone a long time? Wouldn’t it seem strange to reappear? Her heart thrashed. She had to be more methodical about this. So her first order of business was to find out just how much time had passed.

Asking someone was out of the question. No one wanted to talk to her when she looked the way she did. Nor did she want to explain why she wanted to know the year. They’d think she was even crazier than she already appeared. And the last thing she wanted was for the police to be called on her for creating a disturbance.

She walked faster, now no longer caring if the grit of the street bit into the arches of her feet. Whipping her head from one side to the other, she searched for a date — any date. Even the month would help, she thought. 

Her eyes fell on the corner store across the street. There, in front of it, stood a kiosk with newspapers. Of course.

At the first chance she got, she raced across the street, breaths coming harsher. Her limbs ached, her muscles tight, but she ignored the dull ripple of pain, laser focused. As soon as she arrived at the storefront, she locked her gaze on the newspaper, sweeping across the top for the date. And when she read it, the characters burned into her eyes, her heart dropping like a stone.

May 12, 2017.

“Oh, no,” she whispered under her breath, fresh panic welling inside of her. “No, no, no…”

It had been four years. All her hopes evaporated. She had nowhere to go, and no one knew she was still alive, and she had no money and no job. She was homeless again.  

Slowly, she turned and crumpled onto a bench, covering her face with her hands. Here she was, pregnant and alone and back at square one. All her life, she’d fought tooth and nail to stay alive somehow, to make it even one more day. And every time, someone or something had knocked her back down. While she’d always faced any challenge head on, while she’d never given up even in the most dire of times, she was also so tired of always having to fight to survive .  

It wasn’t as simple as the time she’d fallen into the mononoke world. It wasn’t as simple as going door to door asking for jobs, asking for housing, asking for anything. One had to have identification. One had to fit in and look presentable. She was just an average person here, albeit an average person who’d been missing for four years, who probably hadn’t had anyone looking for her. Just like any lonely person, she’d likely fallen through the cracks of society. Her chin quivered.

Unable to help it, a sob caught in her throat, followed by another. Tears slipped through her fingers. Was she a horrible mother for breaking down? She should keep fighting, because now she had two more lives to fight for. Single mothers faced the odds all the time. Yet here she was, curled up on a bench on the street, crying like a lost child.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to her cubs, her voice stifled by her palms. “I’m so sorry.”

For a few minutes, she sat on the bench and cried, hiding in her hands and behind her hair. She tried to pull herself together, but it felt impossible. People passed her by, their voices dropping to whispers as they walked in front of her, but not a single soul extended kindness. 

Perhaps she would’ve sat there all day had she not lifted her head to wipe her eyes and draw in some fresh air only to find the storekeeper glaring at her from the window. She jolted. He might call the police, she realized. It was time to move on.

Without knowing where else to go, she wandered down the street like a ghost, swaying slightly on her feet. They stung and throbbed, and they felt so hot, and she felt so drained. She had to find somewhere to rest.

Remembering the park near her old high school, she wandered in that direction. If she had nowhere else to go, at least she could rest her feet and find someplace to settle down. After all, the sun was getting lower in the sky. And, upon reaching the park and finding a group of high school girls walking together and chatting animatedly, she realized — it was even later than she’d thought. 

A shiver wracked her body, and she folded her arms over herself, sinking onto a park bench. She couldn’t stay here, she thought, a lump coming to her throat. She might not have given sleeping on a park bench a second thought as a teenager, but as a pregnant woman? One who’d been taken advantage of and who was privy to the wicked ways of the world? The thought of being assaulted or even killed terrified her.

If only she had money for an Internet cafe, or even a love hotel, she thought, teeth chattering, fresh tears welling in her eyes. But without an ID, she couldn’t do a thing.  

She curled into a ball. Was she too proud to beg? But who would she even ask? Briefly, an intrusive thought split through her skull, that whisper that told her — there was one job she was trained to do. Instantly, she shoved it out, horror striking her like a thunderbolt. How could she consider it even for a second? She’d committed herself to Tomoe, and she was pregnant with their children. She couldn’t put her cubs at risk like that either, she thought in alarm. No, there had to be a better way. There were other options; she didn’t have to do something like that ever again.

Once more, her thoughts drifted to Tomoe. If only he were here; he’d know what to do, she lamented, sniffing. One tear after another dripped down to the tip of her nose and then to her lap. They’d always been able to overcome anything together. A harsh breath wracked her ribcage. She whispered his name, anguished, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Another terrible thought struck her, and her stomach twisted in protest. What if he’d died? She cried out quietly, doing her best to swallow back the sounds that threatened to escape her. Her tears flooded faster, until she couldn’t see a thing anymore, nothing except wavering colors. From her perspective, not even twenty-four hours had passed since she’d last seen him, and yet… He might be gone. To think of never seeing him again, of him having disappeared from this earth, made her feel like her heart had been ripped from her chest. She strangled back her anguished scream. Her cubs might never know their father.

“I need you so much, Tomoe,” she whispered, blinking rapidly. “Please…oh, gods, please.”

She clutched the front of her yukata, digging her nails into the fabric, the last several days she’d spent with him flashing through her mind in a montage. They’d been afraid of this, she thought. And they’d thought they’d been prepared to be separated, but they hadn’t been. Not when it was like this. 

Through the fog of heartbreak and panic, it hit her suddenly, and she gasped, her eyes blowing wide. The enchanted leaf. Maybe she still had it… Fumbling in the sash of her yukata, she searched for it. What if she’d dropped it? She searched frantically, not caring if anyone saw her digging in her clothes.

Any anxiety she’d had was short-lived because her fingers brushed the waxy surface of the leaf, and then she pulled it out. It was still green. She could feel Tomoe’s energy pulsing from it, meaning the enchantment had held. And if it had held, maybe that meant he was still alive. She panted, her hand trembling, her eyes locked on the leaf. This was her last hope.

Holding it close to her heart, she shut her eyes and focused as hard as she could. “Please, god, please show me he’s alive.” With that prayer, she opened her eyes and focused on the leaf. “Take me to Tomoe,” she whispered, then released it.

Despite the late afternoon sun illuminating the landscape and shading the leaf, she swore she caught the subtlest flash around its edges. It twitched, then fluttered over an invisible wind. She stood, her eyes following the leaf as it floated towards the exit of the park. She started to lunge after it, only to find it wafting over the breeze at an easy pace — something she could follow. It beckoned her. She trailed after it.

For a long while, she walked. It led her away from the center of Kawagoe, taking her past the modern buildings and through the historic district. A few times, she nearly lost the leaf, thanks to the shifting of the traffic lights and fighting the mass of people on their way home after work. She hardly blended in with the crowd, but this time, it was easy to ignore the stares, because she was on a mission. Not even a passing word of concern from an older woman sweeping her front walk diverted her from her path. She couldn’t turn back now. And she couldn’t lose sight of the leaf. 

Eventually, the buildings and businesses thinned out, the leaf leading her to the residential area. Where was it taking her? A part of her started to worry that perhaps it’d take her all the way up north where she wouldn’t be able to follow. Even if it didn’t, she couldn’t keep this up much longer. Already, she was getting tired, her feet hurting, her soles torn from the debris on the street.

She hadn’t thought this through, she thought, her eyes stinging. She should’ve wished for Tomoe to come to her. It was too late now, as the leaf had a one time use, so all she could do was keep walking. No matter how difficult it was, she couldn’t give up; she had to find Tomoe, somehow, some way.

As the sun crept towards the horizon, her strength waned, her muscles aching, her calves cramping. Not again, she thought miserably, panting shallowly through parted lips, one of her hands coming to her stomach. She didn’t know how long she’d walked, but it had to have been several miles — a very long way for someone in her condition to go. She was more vulnerable now than she’d ever been , she thought. No longer could she count on her good health or her youth. She hated to think about it, but there was no doubt anymore — she needed help, even if she didn’t find Tomoe.

Just when she started to stagger, a sick heat radiating from her core and pulsing to her head, the leaf slowed. It drifted down the rolling, hilly street, towards a small mountainside. She panted as she dragged behind, her mouth dry, her head spinning and her lungs burning. Up ahead, she caught sight of a torii gate outlined against the twilight sky, perched at the top of the slope. Suddenly, the leaf burst upward in a gust of wind, following the steep staircase towards the torii gate.

Why was it taking her to a shrine? Her thoughts snapped back to their predicament from five hundred years ago, and her heart leapt in her throat. It couldn’t be; they couldn’t have captured him.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely. 

A sudden spike of adrenaline rose within her, pumping her legs forward, giving her the strength to climb the stairs. Her eyes pricked with tears, her throat closing up, her breaths ragged and audible. What if Tomoe had been hurt? What if he had been killed and this was his final resting place? A tiny sob tore up her throat, tears of fright escaping the corners of her eyes.

“Tomoe—” she rasped, now halfway up the stairs. She nearly collapsed to her knees.

In that short interim, in that pause of her grief and breathlessness, she realized — she’d lost sight of the leaf. Her chin quivered, the heat behind her eyes mounting to unbearable heights. For a moment, she was unable to inhale at all, her entire body quaking, tense. No, stop crying, she thought, rubbing her eyes. She couldn’t give up so easily. Not when she’d already come so far. Not when there was still a chance she could catch up with the leaf.

After drawing a few deep breaths, she fixed her fierce gaze at the top of the staircase and continued her ascent. She stumbled, stubbing her toe on one of the stone steps, but she caught herself on the edge of another, scraping her palms in the process. Gritting her teeth, she straightened and pushed herself to her limits, even as tears flooded her vision.

He had to be alive, she told herself again and again. He had to be, because the leaf still worked. She had to have faith it’d lead her to him. She had to believe the gods would hear her prayer.

And when she reached the top of the stairs and the roof of the shrine came into view, recognition struck her. A kind, soothing warmth encompassed her like a gentle embrace, whispering words of security and assurance. It was an aura she’d felt before, cleansing her and easing her worries. She slowed, scarcely daring to breathe. Could it be…?

They’d been on their way to visit Mikage, she recalled. And even though centuries had passed, it was possible that Tomoe had stayed in the place where they’d intended to take refuge together, in the one place that they’d be safe. If anyone would’ve been on their side, it would’ve been Mikage. In her absence, he would’ve taken Tomoe in, she thought, sucking in a breath. If this really was Mikage shrine, then Tomoe could be here, waiting for her.

That newfound hope that her journey was about to come to an end sparked inside her, giving her an extra push. Although her exhalations were noisy, labored, and her ribs ached, she hurried up the final few steps as quickly as she could, her heart beating loudly in her ears. Please, kami-sama, please please please, she prayed. 

She crested the hill, coming to the torii gate, where she tripped just at the threshold of this world and the world of the gods. When she lifted her gaze to the shrine grounds, the earth itself stood still. 

She fell to her hands, cracking her knees on the pavement. But even that shock of pain couldn’t jar her. Because there, a little ways down the path, a tall figure with short, chin length silver-white hair stood, his back to her, a broom in his hands. Her heart beat faster, her eyes as wide as the moon itself, but her traitorous tongue couldn’t find the words. Her limbs rattled, useless, every muscle twitching. A part of her was afraid — so, so afraid — that she’d call out to him only to find he wasn’t who she hoped he was.

He could be a dream. He could be a specter. He could be a mirage in the dusk of the setting sun, shrouded in the greys and fading light of this liminal space. And if she called out to him…would he disappear in the dust and the wind of yesterday?

But she had to know. She opened her mouth, and what began as a soundless rasp exploded as a shout on her second try. His name.

He stopped. The beat that followed elapsed into eternity, echoing like a drop in a deep cavern. Then, slowly, he began to turn. Their gazes locked, and his eyes enlarged, his lips parting in silence. In the oranges and golds of the sunset, his eyes were a deep violet, his pupils blown wide. She sucked in a sharp breath, and then she shook so violently it hurt. A cry escaped her, and her tears streaked down her face.

“Tomoe…”

Chapter Text

Five hundred years might as well have been an eternity. Not a day went by where Tomoe didn’t think about Nanami, where he didn’t wish with all of his being that things had been different. She haunted his dreams, his waking thoughts, and as the years passed, she became more of a phantom — more of a fantasy — than a memory. Sometimes, he swore he heard her calling his name, a ghostly whisper in his ear in those moments between sleep and wakefulness. Yet when he jolted to full consciousness, his heart rabbiting and his breaths harsh beneath stifled blankets, he was always alone.

Ever since her disappearance, he’d harbored this pain in a pit deep within his heart, one that grew by the day. At one point, Mikage had offered to erase his memories until it was time, concerned that an ayakashi couldn’t live with this level of heartbreak. But Tomoe had refused, because he couldn’t forget. Not when she was his life mate. Not when she carried his cubs. He’d never forget his family. How he yearned for his past life, frozen as though held in a time capsule.

And so the years had inched by. Even for a yokai like him, it had been impossibly slow. Familiar contract or not, he’d still felt a duty towards her and their children. He’d often stared up at the sky and the moon on clear nights and thought about how he and Nanami had fallen in love under the same stars. But over time, as the world around him changed even as he remained still and stagnant, those stars had faded. An artificial glow overpowered those heavenly lights, and he was severed from her completely.

He’d clung to his hope with every last claw, no matter how agonizing the wait had been. He could hardly contain himself as the new millennium arrived, ushering in the era where she belonged. He’d hastily ripped pages from calendars as the years trudged on — 2000, 2005, 2010. The long-awaited year finally arrived, the year when Mikage had promised he could look for her, the year Mikage had lifted his instruction not to search for her so they wouldn’t change the past, and yet…there had been silence.

She hadn’t come to find him. The leaf had never come either. He’d remained outside most days, and he went into town as often as he could, but there was no sign of her. Not even his foxfire had picked up on her trail. Although she’d told him Kawagoe was her home, there was no trace. If it hadn’t been for Mikage, he’d have wondered if she’d ever existed at all, or if she’d been a dream — a very long and wonderful dream, but a figment of his imagination nonetheless.

And when 2013 had ended without her re-emergence, he’d been close to giving up. His heart had crushed in, like a piece of crumpled parchment, leaving behind the kind of pain that made every breath difficult. Each passing year afterward had ground his faith deeper into the ground, burying it in suffocating darkness.

At some point, he wondered if he should give up. At some point, he wondered if their theory had been just that — a theory. Perhaps she really was gone. And perhaps he had to accept that. Perhaps he had to embrace his role as shinshi with all his might. After all, Mikage had been his only comfort, his anchor, throughout the centuries. He’d been so good to him, and as time had passed, their bond had grown to this genuine thing, to this relationship that had crossed the boundaries between god and familiar. Mikage had made him family. Now this god was all Tomoe had left in the world. Everything beyond the bounds of the shrine was colorless, a vast sea of nothingness, swallowed whole by the void inside of him.

Some days were worse than others. Some days were unbearable. Today was one of those days. Because the last of the blooms on the trees had faded out, and as the petals drifted with finality, as he swept their browned and wilted forms from the walk, he couldn’t help but think of that grove of cherry trees he’d left behind, so many miles up north. North, where home was; north, where their hearts had been lain to rest.

He’d never see her again.

His hands tightened around the broom, but any vigor bled from him. His arms weighed down with the heaviness of her memory, that same memory that traced his fingertips with her residual touch. And as he did for so many years in the past, every spring when the flowers faded, he said a silent prayer for her soul. But no matter how he swept those petals away, they always clung to the hem of his clothing.

He lost himself to the last memory of her lying in his arms, speaking her love, saying goodnight, not knowing that it was goodbye. Her sweet voice rang in his ears, on a loop, again and again. Those last words ingrained in him, like a well worn groove, one he knew so well — one he knew better than he knew himself. 

He shut his eyes, breathed in deeply, cleaving to that place in the back of his mind where he could still be with her. He repeated her words in his mind again. And again.

“Tomoe!”

Her voice came to him in the form of a cry, her distress overpowering the soft, husky whisper of her goodnight. He froze, heart picking up its pace, his eyes fluttering open. That ghost of her had returned — a mirage hovering at the border of this world and the next. But the heavy footfalls that stumbled behind him were very much so real. And as a scent came to him over the wind, a scent that he’d know anywhere, his breath caught. Could it be?

He turned, dread and anticipation mingling in equal amounts. Her form silhouetted against the setting sun, yet her eyes… He’d know those eyes anywhere. Their gazes locked, and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. 

“Tomoe…” she said just above a whisper, tone thick, hoarse. Her mouth tugged in grief, her shoulders quaking, her form so frail that it crumpled under its own weight. 

His hold around the broom loosened. It clattered to the stone pathway, but he didn’t get a chance to move, to see if his eyes betrayed him. She came to him instead.

It was him, she thought, panting harshly through her mouth. A wail escaped her, and she lunged to her feet. She rushed towards him, crying openly, no longer caring about the rocks that jabbed the soft spots of her feet or the cuts on her heels. Because Tomoe was alive. And she’d found him.

She had paused for so long that Tomoe had wondered if this was a vision, the manifestation of his desperation and his hope as his heartache morphed to delirium. But when she ran to him, when she cried, he couldn’t temper his expectations anymore. The barrage of emotion welling inside of him burst all at once and flooded his head in a rush of heat. His breath hitched, eyes growing hot. He no longer cared if this was a ghost of the past or not, her image imprinted on his eyes. He lunged for her in return.

“Nanami!”

Without hesitation, she leapt into his arms as he outstretched them towards her, a deep sob pulling from her core. She grasped the back of his kimono in clawed fingertips, burying her face in his chest, her body wracked in sobs. Perhaps it’d only been half a day since she’d last seen him, but she’d been so afraid that he’d died, so afraid that her children would grow up without a father. Now she saw — that reality was just as bad as them growing up without her. Their children needed the both of them, just like she needed Tomoe.

“Tomoe,” she managed to whimper between staccato breaths. That was all she could say.

And he couldn’t even answer her. His chest felt like it’d been cracked open anew, leaving him unable to breathe. He clung to her as though his life depended on it, pressing her so close that the feeling of their bones through their clothing was painful. Five hundred years; he’d waited five hundred years. He didn’t understand why it hurt, why his heart had broken the moment he’d seen her again, why fresh grief washed over him like a cold tide. That grief consumed him, and he grasped the back of her yukata.

This was real, he thought. She wouldn’t have felt so solid in his arms otherwise. She hadn’t disappeared into mist, into the murky aftertaste of his dreams. Instead, she remained, steady and corporeal and present.

His vision blurred. Before he could stop it, his feelings flooded over, tumbling out of control. One tear followed another, dropping into her hair. His hands trembled at her back, his breath catching. She was safe. She was safe and in his arms again. After so long… And that wasn’t all. 

Mingled with her energy was the potent energy of an ayakashi — no , he thought, two ayakashi. He swallowed hard. His cubs; they were safe too.  

He knew then that everything would be all right.

Burying his nose and mouth in her hair, he trembled vigorously. When she cried like that, it stirred both his protective instinct and a streak of deep set pain. Gods, he wished he could be strong for her. But he’d harbored this heartbreak for years, had encased it in calluses and chains as it’d grown and grown, until it had filled his entire being. That all fell away now, that cage he’d so carefully constructed breaking open, releasing everything he’d felt from the day he’d lost her until the present.

Unable to stop it, he nuzzled against the crown of her head, tears never ceasing. He cried quietly into her hair, kissing it, long fingers twisting strands of it around. She held him tighter then, returning his affection with a nuzzle of her own, her tears soaking into the collar of his kimono. After five hundred years, she was finally his again.

For a long moment, neither of them said a word, instead holding each other. Eventually, she managed to get a hold of herself long enough to pull back, to look up at his face. His eyes were so hollow. Those were the eyes of someone who’d all but given up hope. Perhaps he even had, long ago. 

Reaching up, she touched his cheek, tracing through the wet trails there. They felt cold, she thought in surprise. One of his hands joined hers, pressing it closer, a sad smile spreading over his mouth. He tilted his head, leaning into her touch, gazing at her so adoringly. As he stroked her hand, she realized — he’d never forgotten her. And he’d never stopped loving her.

This man had suffered without her for five hundred years, she thought, her chin quivering. And he’d waited for her. Her heart ached for him, thinking of him alone for all that time. Waiting, forever waiting.

His tears ceased first, and he only smiled at her with such warmth, with such kindness it surprised her. There was something very different about this Tomoe. He’d been kind to her in the past, but the man before her today felt more rounded around the edges. Smoother. She took in his appearance, noting the differences — his cropped hair, the hakama he wore, his larger pupils. They were still narrow, fox like, but much softer now. It was the first time she considered how much he might’ve changed. After all, he’d changed so drastically in the past, in only the course of a year. How much more had he changed in her absence?

Yokai or not, five hundred years was a long time. And while she had no doubt he’d been faithful, she didn’t know what his life had been like. She didn’t know what he was doing here, or why he felt different beneath her fingertips. The aura that surrounded him wasn’t the same as when she’d known him even twenty-four hours earlier. And yet… The way he looked at her was so much like the way he’d regarded her in the past.

It didn’t matter, she thought, shoving back the butterflies in her stomach. Because they’d been reunited, and they could be a family again, and everything would be all right. They’d always found their way before. As long as they were together, they could overcome fate itself.

After a few moments of studying each other, lightly touching each other, he finally found his tongue. “I feared I would never see you again,” he whispered. “I am so happy to see you. My heart cannot bear it.” He turned his head, kissing her wrist, a few stray tears slipping down his nose.

“I’m so happy to see you too!” she burst out, her voice wavering. “I was so scared something bad had happened to you. I was so afraid you’d died.” She couldn’t stand to see the way his eyebrows rose, shock passing through his eyes, so she buried her face in his shoulder. “The gods were after you and I wasn’t there for you. I was so afraid.”

As always, she thought of him first. “They did not hurt me,” he assured her, stroking her hair, holding her close. “Now that you are back… I am all right. Seeing you again is all I ever wanted.”

“You must’ve been so sad,” Nanami cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind for so long. I didn’t mean for you to be so lonely.”

His heart ached anew and he squeezed her, resting his cheek against the side of her head and shutting his eyes, ears tilted back. “You could not help it. Neither of us could. I never blamed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she cried again, voice muffled by his kimono. “Tomoe…”

He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. He was about to hush her, to assure her once again, when he realized she was clad only in the yukata she’d worn the night she’d disappeared. The weather might’ve been warm, but if she’d dropped from that moment to this one, then she was still ill, still susceptible. Not to mention, he caught the faint scent of blood. He pulled back, concerned.

“You are hurt…”

“Huh?” She sniffed, wiping an eye on the side of her hand.

Kneeling before her, he lifted one of her feet. His heart twinged at the sight of the numerous scratches and cuts over her feet, the small gouges from where rocks had cut into the arches. She must’ve walked a long way to find him, he realized. After centuries of tending to a god, he’d forgotten just how fragile humans could be. Unlike spirits or gods, she needed to rest.

Instead of admonishing her, telling her she should’ve used the leaf to send for him to come to her, he rose and then swept her off her feet, drawing a small cry from her. “Come. I will tend to your wounds. It is the least I can do after I was unable to do anything to save you.”

“Save me?” She clung to his neck, her legs dangling over his arm, swinging with his movements. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

To this, he shot her a remorseful look. She gazed up at him with all the sweetness in the world, the warmth and vibrancy in her large eyes so much greater than he’d remembered. The Nanami he held now was tangible, not like that ghost of his memory. But she was just as frail, if not frailer, than that evasive mist which clung to every shadow of his mind. She felt so much smaller in his arms than in his memories. So much lighter. And her bones felt so brittle… How could he have forgotten when he thought of her every day?

Just like that, his elation snuffed out, like a candle. Nanami was here now, but one day she would leave him again, this time for good. He’d made such bold statements during those halcyon days, professing that it didn’t matter how short their time together was, that it didn’t matter that he was an everlasting ayakashi and she was a human, a mortal who’d flash out of existence like the blink of a firefly on a humid summer night. The truth was — she was only here today because she’d disappeared. And soon — much too soon — he’d face the crushing devastation and neverending stasis of heartache once more.

All the warnings about how a human and yokai union was taboo suddenly made sense. She would disappear, and he would be left behind. Now he knew what that bitterness and pain felt like, crushing up his insides like broken glass. He could never go through it again.

Something in his eyes had dulled, as though he no longer saw what was in front of him, and Nanami felt her stomach jump. “Tomoe?” she called softly, drifting gentle fingertips over his chin.

His eyelids fluttered, and his pupils flicked to her. A hum caught in his throat.

It gnawed at her, that nagging voice in her head that told her something was off. She wondered if she could still touch him, because even if he was her life mate, he seemed so faraway right now, like the time and distance still spanned between them hundreds of years. She swallowed hard, her touch faltering.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He blinked, then forced a small laugh. He shouldn’t worry her, he thought. He should be overjoyed at her safe return, not thinking about the faraway future. Quickly, he shoved those fears aside, because his wife and cubs were home. 

“I am all right,” he assured her, walking into the shrine. “It is simply a lot to process. You have dropped back on my doorstep, and I was not prepared.” Realizing she might take it to mean that she was a burden, he quickly explained. “What I mean is — it is not only my home. I am not sure if you recognize it, but this is Mikage’s shrine. It is only fair for him to know that you have returned.”

“Oh, right.” At the memory of her first encounter with Mikage, when she’d barged into his shrine unannounced, she blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I always make an entrance, huh?”

“Hm, perhaps.” He approached the middle of the room, where a small seating area of cushions had been arranged for him and Mikage. “I will tell Mikage that you are back and then gather supplies. If you would please — wait a moment.”

He set her on a cushion, and she gazed up at him, startled that he’d leave her side so soon after their reunion. It was necessary, she told herself as he unfolded a blanket and laid it over her lap. It wasn’t like he paid her no mind. After all, he still smiled at her, he still touched her so freely, and yet…something felt wrong. Perhaps it was no more than intuition, but it was in the subtle gestures, in the way he tended to her, the movements practiced, with ceremony. 

“Okay,” she said softly. She pulled the blanket farther up her body and watched him turn around, confused. In that moment, her stomach growled loudly, alerting her to her hunger pangs. She hadn’t eaten all day.

Right before he left the room, it hit him — humans needed food and water. He shot her an apologetic glance. “I am sorry for my negligence; I have forgotten. I will bring you water and start tea.”

He’d forgotten? She blinked, speechless. What had he forgotten? Slowly, his comment about bringing her water sank in, and she realized — he wasn’t used to taking care of a human anymore. Suddenly, the reality loomed over her head, those lost years extending even farther. What else had he forgotten?

Aloud, she said, “It’s fine… I just came back and you were pretty surprised to see me. Right?” She rubbed the back of her hair, forcing a smile, forcing the excuse to the forefront of her mind. Of course he’d be scatterbrained; he just wasn’t thinking straight when this was so unexpected.

He nodded. Once again, the growl of her stomach interrupted them, and he couldn’t help but smile, albeit sympathetically. “I would bring you something to eat, but I am afraid we do not have any food. However, once I clean your wounds, I will go into town.” A pause, and then the words flowed from him, that script embedded in his mind from years and years of servitude. “Any preferences for your meal tonight?”

Sometimes Tomoe asked what she’d like to eat, and yet the way he said it now… Why did he speak to her as though he waited on her? Again, that strange feeling rose within her, but she quieted it. He only asked because they hadn’t seen each other in so long, she reasoned. He probably wanted to make it special. Either that, or he worried about what she could stomach with her pregnancy.

“No, I’m feeling okay, so I could eat anything,” she replied. “But thank you!”

“As you wish. I will be back with your water shortly.” He offered what he hoped was a comforting smile, then headed for the kitchen.

As she listened to the sound of the water running and ceramic clinking, she looked around the room. It was hard to believe this was Mikage shrine. She’d known just from the way it made her feel, but the inside was so different from when she’d been here five hundred years ago. For one thing, there were lamps plugged into electrical outlets on either side of the room. For another thing, there was a fan in the corner, a complement to the air conditioning unit installed above one of the windows. And then there was the sound of running water in the background, another modern change. How odd to think of Tomoe and Mikage knowing how to use the conveniences she’d grown up with.

Her attention shifted to the decor, a mix of traditional antiques and contemporary textiles. It was lighter inside, cleaner — even the smell was different. And she could see little pieces of Tomoe strewn throughout. His haori, hanging near the door. A vase collection neatly arranged in cubby holes that she swore matched the designs from his previous houses. Even some of the furniture reminded her of the pieces he’d crafted for their home, albeit with greater precision and care. It began to feel like she’d stumbled into his and Mikage’s lives unbidden.

Footsteps padded her way, and she lifted her head, her lips parted but no sound coming out. Tomoe approached with a glass of water. She reached out to accept it, but then he knelt before her. Not knowing what else to do, she took it. “Thank you.”

“It is no trouble.” He brushed a hand over her hair, gently tucking the stray strands back. “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything else?”

Realizing how thirsty she was, she brought the glass to her lips and pulled a mouthful in. Before she knew it, she’d drained all but the last sip. A shuddering exhale left her, and she sank into the cushion. “No, you’re already taking care of everything.” She smiled, tentative yet grateful. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. 

Although he’d imagined what it’d be like to kiss her and touch her again after all these years, actually doing it felt foreign now. Still, he felt as drawn to her as though they were a pair of magnets, their fates colliding once again. So he kissed her once more, this time at the bridge of her nose.

“I will be back soon,” he promised, rising. “I only need to inform Mikage of your return and set up the bathroom to tend to your feet. Onikiri and Kotetsu will bring the tea when it is ready. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask them.”

“Onikiri? Kotetsu?” she echoed, watching him pass.

“Yes, the shrine spirits,” he threw over his shoulder. “They are quite hospitable. Now just relax. I should only be gone a moment.”

“Okay…” she called faintly after him.

She settled into her cushion, staring down at the pattern on the blanket. So other spirits lived at the shrine, she thought. Could they be part of Tomoe’s family? To think, she didn’t know these people who were so close to him, and she was supposed to be his wife. Well, she had been in the past. Modern times worked differently. 

Quickly, she shoved back her uneasy thoughts, reminding herself that it couldn’t have been helped. After all, she’d been gone for years. Of course he would’ve moved on with his life, and that meant he would’ve inevitably found a new place to call home. If anything, she should be happy for him, she thought, guilt souring in the pit of her stomach. She supposed she’d meet the people he lived with soon enough anyway, so no harm was really done.

—

Meanwhile, Tomoe slipped into the hallway, making his way to the inner sanctum. It still felt like a dream, he thought, tucking his shaking hands into his inner sleeves. This was the outcome that both he and Mikage had hoped for, had waited for. While a part of him was still afraid that it was no more than a hallucination conjured from his deep-set grief, he knew if anyone had the power to anchor Nanami solidly to this world, it would be Mikage. Just like always, Mikage would help him set things right.

Tomoe stopped before the inner sanctum and bowed his head, slightly out of breath. “Mikage,” he said, straining to keep his voice even. “May I have a moment of your time?”

Almost immediately, the screen shifted, and Mikage supported the fabric with his arm, meeting Tomoe’s gaze. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Of course you may,” he replied.

The way Mikage looked at him, with that subtle smile and the slightest crease at the corners of his eyes, made Tomoe wonder if he already knew. After all, Mikage was attuned to visitors of the shrine, and no doubt he’d heard them talking. Regardless of whether Mikage already knew or not, he couldn’t contain his excitement at sharing the good news.

“It is Nanami,” Tomoe burst out, his eyes shimmering. “She has returned to me. After all these years… She is finally, finally home.”

Although his smile remained just as serene as before, Mikage’s eyes lit up a little brighter. “She’s back? That’s wonderful news! I’m so relieved she’s home safe and sound.”

“I had worried I would not ever see her again. I had worried I would never meet my cubs,” Tomoe continued, his voice cracking, his throat swelling around his words. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am. I have my wife back; I have my family back. We can finally be together again.”

At this, Mikage’s expression shifted, concern flashing through his eyes. “You’d told me Nanami-san was sick before she disappeared. Is she doing all right now?”

Tomoe hesitated. “Perhaps. She is weary — she is weak and her feet are scratched — but I hope she will improve with food and rest. I intend to go into town for supplies and medicine, if I can find anything to help with her discomfort.”

Mikage nodded, pushing his glasses up, his brow creased slightly. “Yes, please do that. If she needs it, I’m also happy to arrange a visit with a doctor.”

Something about the way Mikage refused to make direct eye contact made Tomoe wonder if his god had sensed that the situation was more dire than he’d originally thought. Come to think of it, Mikage had kept his responses vague, generic. And while he’d expected Mikage to match his enthusiasm, instead he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, focusing on Nanami’s health instead of the fact that she’d returned.

Alarm fluttered in his chest. “Do you think she should see a doctor now?” he asked.

“No, no! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m only offering it as an option — if you need stronger medicine,” Mikage insisted, waving it off with that same easy smile twitching on his lips. “Please don’t worry too much. For now, settle her in and go into town like you’d planned.”

A bit uneasy, Tomoe flicked the tip of his tail, eyes boring into Mikage’s. “And you will stay here and watch over her?”

“Onikiri, Kotetsu, and I will be right here if you need us,” Mikage assured him. “But I think it might be best to give her some space and let her get some sleep. Traveling through time when she’s already feeling unwell is quite a shock, isn’t it?”

At this, Tomoe nodded slowly. “Yes…”

Smiling warmly, Mikage laid a hand on Tomoe’s shoulder, squeezing it. “She’ll probably need a little time to adjust. Why don’t you take a few days off to help her?”

Tomoe blinked. Mikage had never asked him to take time off before. Although Mikage had run the shrine on his own for centuries prior to his servitude as a familiar, he’d come to rely on Tomoe in every aspect of the day-to-day. Besides, this was Tomoe’s home now too, and he’d always taken such meticulous care of his houses. That had been true even when he and Nanami had lived alone up north.

“It is no trouble. I cared for my home while attending to Nanami in our previous life too,” Tomoe pointed out. “It is no different from that, is it?”

Here, Mikage shook his head. “It’s very different. You’ve waited to see her for five hundred years. So take a break to spend some time alone with her. I’ll give you the space to do that.”

“It is your home too. There is no need to keep your distance—” Tomoe began.

Again, Mikage shook his head, his smile waning sheepish. “It’s not like that. I’ll come say hi when the time is right. Like I said, she’s probably in shock from the trip and needs to be with you. I don’t want to distract you from that.”

He didn’t aim to be rude or pushy, Tomoe realized as Mikage gazed at him with such softness in his eyes. He only meant to give them privacy. To have a master who cared so deeply for his well-being — for his wife’s well-being — had him nearly tearing up from gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said just above a whisper, bowing his head. “It means a lot to me that you care for her as much as I do.”

“Of course,” Mikage replied, letting his hand drop. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be getting back to my prayers. Call for me if you need me.” With that, Mikage flashed him one last kind smile, then disappeared behind the screen, returning to his duties. 

Freshly assured, Tomoe headed for the bathroom to find clean towels and soap and cloths they could use to bandage Nanami’s cuts. Anything beyond their immediate future fell away; all that mattered now was stabilizing her, settling her in, and rebuilding their bond. He’d spent so many years thinking about tomorrow. For once, he could afford to let himself think about today.

—

While Tomoe was gone, Nanami drained the rest of her glass, battling her thoughts and her emotions. If her feet hadn’t throbbed so hotly, she would’ve risen and gotten more water herself, would’ve used her thirst as an excuse to explore the shrine a bit. But now that the adrenaline had worn off and she was safe, she’d become privy to a whole new set of aches and pains that hadn’t been there earlier. And it wasn’t just her feet.

She felt exhausted, like she’d been in round after round in a boxing ring, knocked down every time she scraped herself up off the mat. Her whole body ached, and the blanket trapped so much heat, a light sheen of sweat coating her skin. What she wouldn’t give for a bath, she thought, wiping her brow on the back of her hand. And after that, perhaps stew and a nice, soft futon to rest in. There would be plenty of time to satisfy the questions swirling in her mind later.

She’d just tilted the glass to drip the last few drops onto her tongue when there was the clink of ceramic against ceramic, the rattle of tea implements on a tray. Turning her head, she found two small spirits dressed in white yukata and peculiar masks floating her way. Startled, she jumped, eliciting a little gasp from them as well.

“Oh, sorry,” she sputtered. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

The spirit with the stylized mask of a woman’s face replied, her voice mellow and high-pitched. “Sorry we scared you! Tomoe-dono asked us to bring tea.”

“Oh! Right.” Nanami set her glass down and pressed her hands together, offering a smile. “Thank you so much. It’s very kind of you.”

This time, the other spirit spoke, his tone just as cheerful. “You are most welcome.” Together with the other will o’ wisp, he set the tray down. Then, he held the cup while the girl spirit poured the tea.

“You must be Onikiri and Kotetsu, huh? The shrine spirits?” Nanami asked.

“Indeed! I am Kotetsu.” The male shrine spirit offered the cup of tea, which Nanami accepted with a brief word of gratitude.

“And I am Onikiri,” the female spirit added. Along with Kotetsu, she chimed, “Nice to meet you, Nanami!”

They seemed perfectly nice and welcoming, Nanami thought with a blush. And here she’d been feeling a little insecure. It was good that Tomoe had kind people in his life, and if they were always this positive, she was sure they’d helped him withstand a very rough time.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” she replied, deciding to keep an open mind.

She brought the cup to her lips. Just like she remembered, the water was the perfect temperature. Tomoe must’ve instructed them on how to make it, she thought. It was such a small thing, but to know he remembered that much soothed her. She exhaled in a rush.

“It’s not often that a human can see us,” Onikiri said, adjusting the lid on the teapot. “But Tomoe-dono told us all about you. You must be very special indeed to have lived in the World Over Yonder for as long as you did!”

Immediately, her cheeks burned. These two strangers knew about her past, she realized. While she hadn’t had time for shame before, now that she was in the comfort and safety of this shrine and surrounded by things that were simultaneously so familiar and yet so alien, it made her want to cry. 

It’d been a long time since she’d felt shame like that. If she hadn’t had to sequester herself and Tomoe away all those years ago, cloaking their identities and their pasts from everyone but each other, then perhaps she could’ve forgotten entirely. She’d fled from it — fled from the danger and the fear and those long days and nights of pain and uncertainty. But even though they’d forged a new life, leaving the old one behind as a distant memory, it forever circled the periphery of her consciousness. 

Just how long had she been running? It seemed surreal to think that she and Tomoe might finally be able to settle down without worry. She didn’t know that for sure yet, but in this safe haven of Mikage shrine, it seemed possible.

“Oh, yeah, the gods must’ve been looking out for me,” she said with a shaky laugh, tightening her grip around the teacup. “I never really thought about how I can still see ayakashi. I guess I’ve had this ability ever since I fell into the World Over Yonder.”

“Tomoe-dono hoped you’d be able to see us,” Onikiri said. “And he hopes that you’ll keep your ability. He’s worried you might lose it once you have the twins.”

“Which would be very sad indeed! Since we will be living together,” Kotetsu piped up. “Oh, how sad if we couldn’t talk to you!”

To this, Nanami smiled wanly and nodded. Again, her stomach twisted, and something so heavy and so tired weighed on her, pushing down on her shoulders, rendering her near immovable. So it’d already been decided that they’d stay here. And they knew such a personal detail about her, something that only Tomoe and the yokai healer had known, something that she hadn’t been ready to divulge so freely. She stared down into her cup, her smile fading, her hands shaking lightly. Suddenly, the space behind her eyes stung, her throat tight.

Tomoe had told these two spirits who she didn’t know all about her. They knew her more intimately than she’d thought they would, and it made her feel transparent, a bit helpless. What else did they know about her? Surely, if Tomoe had lived here for the hundreds of years, then they’d had lots of time to sit and trade stories — about the past, the present, and the future. These two spirits had insight into Tomoe’s daily life, into his habits, into his hopes and dreams in the here and the now. As for her? She only knew who he had been, at a time.

As much as she would’ve liked to believe that things would be the same, the tiny details shook her. The knowledge about her that’d been imbued on these strangers, the unfamiliar belongings that’d been stashed away so neatly in their proper places, the change in Tomoe’s attitude towards her and others. Was this a fox she no longer knew?  

She blinked hard against the grit in her eyes. Before she knew it, her vision wavered, and her shoulders heaved.

“Are you all right, Lady Nanami?” Kotetsu asked, laying his small hand on her thin wrist.

No, the impulsive voice within her wanted to cry out. But just thinking of being that vulnerable made her seize up inside, until her lungs felt like they’d burst. “I’m…just tired,” she managed to whisper hoarsely. “And a little overwhelmed.” She drew in a deep breath through her nose, doing her best to stave off her tears. “It’s been a long day, you know? But I appreciate your kindness. So very much.” She smiled wider even through the tears that threatened to fall.

This wasn’t her home, she thought, even as she touched Kotetsu’s hand, even as she offered them both her gratitude. It was Tomoe’s home, but it wasn’t hers. He’d carved out a new place in the world for himself, a place where she’d been invited, but where she wasn’t sure she’d belong. After all, they had their own dynamic. Tomoe and Mikage had lived together for hundreds of years. What was even a year and a half of marriage compared to that? She might as well have only dated him in high school.

Footsteps approached from the back of the shrine, floorboards creaking under their weight. Worried it might be Mikage, Nanami quickly wiped her eyes using her fingertips and sniffed, composing herself. After all, she didn’t want him to think she was displeased with his kindness.

However, when she lifted her eyes, she found Tomoe in the doorway. His face fell, and he hurried to her side.

“What is wrong?” he asked. “Are you ill?” Crouching, he pushed her bangs up, feeling her forehead. Her skin felt warm, too warm, but not to the point of fever.

Now she’d just made everyone worry, she thought. All because she was being ungrateful. All because she was a little scared. Suddenly, she was all too aware of the shrine spirits’ presence just inside her peripheral vision, the nervous energy zinging off their bodies. While Tomoe seemed comfortable questioning her in front of them, she felt like hiding herself and all her wounds away from them.

“I’m just tired,” she reiterated. She gazed into his eyes, silently pleading with him to go somewhere more private. They couldn’t talk like this.

Taking in her pallid complexion and the dark circles around her eyes, Tomoe’s heart faltered. He could sense the tremor in her hands as he took her cup and set it aside, could sense the heat of her body, the quicker cadence of her heart. She was in pain. And he was sorry he’d left her even for a moment. After what they’d gone through, he should’ve never left her side again.

“It is all right,” he said, slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. “Hold onto me. I have prepared the bathroom. I will clean you up and then put you to bed. You can rest.” He kissed her temple and lifted her with ease.

Falling silent, he carried her to the bathroom, where he set her down on a stool. Momentarily, he diverted his attention to retrieve a clean cloth and turn the faucet on, waiting for the water to grow hot. For now, the best he could do was wash her feet and bind them in strips of torn cloth, because they didn’t have anything else at the shrine. He made a mental note to procure a first-aid kit.

After drawing up water in a basin, he knelt on the floor by her, taking one of her feet and dipping it in the water. She hissed through her teeth, flinching, but allowed him to wash her foot. He wasn’t going to say anything, but she broke the silence.

“Have you lived at Mikage shrine this whole time?” she asked meekly. So much had changed, she thought, staring down at him. She didn’t know where to begin.

“Yes. After you disappeared, I finished the journey on my own.” Tomoe flicked a glance up, noticing something almost worried in her eyes. He paused, wondering why she looked at him like that.

Unable to help it, she reached out, delicately shifting a few shorter strands of his hair from his eyes. Her heart ached. “But the gods never caught you? You were never in any danger?”

Thinking back to when he’d barged in on the gods in his moment of desperation, Tomoe sighed. “Yes and no—” At her sudden intake of breath, he shook his head. Perhaps she needed assurance — and to know they were safe now. “I was never harmed. Everything is fine now. The gods no longer wish for my head.”

“How? Did Mikage talk to them?” she asked.

He tilted his chin towards his chest, gaze flicking to the water basin as he gingerly worked his fingers between her toes, taking care of the abrasions on the soles of her feet. For some reason, he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about his new reality. She might blame herself as she had in the old days — for his life having lost its thrills, for subjecting him to an eternity of domesticity. But there was no other way to approach it than bluntly.

"After it became clear you were not coming back, I became Mikage’s shinshi,” he began, speaking slowly. “It was of my own free will. I assure you — I have been safe and well.”

She blinked. Mikage’s shinshi? The last time she’d seen Tomoe, he’d been a wild fox. Perhaps he’d reformed, perhaps he’d renounced his old ways and come to live in the human world with her, but he’d been free. And they’d been equal.

Now, he knelt before her, subservient and bowed, touching her with more than delicacy and care — but with practiced, reverent motions. He’d been tamed. And she couldn’t grasp what it would’ve taken for someone like Tomoe to submit to the gods, even one as kind and generous as Mikage. Tomoe had never wanted that. They’d run to escape that. She couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Mikage had captured him, despite him seeming incapable of such a thing.

“What do you mean you’re his shinshi?” she blurted. She wasn’t sure how else to phrase the question — she wasn’t sure how to ask why Tomoe had accepted it — without offending him.

His ears lowered sideways. It was to be expected that she’d have questions, he told himself. But he wasn’t sure he liked the look on her face. “I am his servant,” he replied. “I have devoted my life to serving him.”

Devoted his life to Mikage. That didn’t sound like Tomoe; the Tomoe she knew would’ve never bowed to a god, much less serve him. “Servant?” she sputtered. She couldn’t censor herself anymore. “Why’d you become his servant? I know we were gonna get his help, but…don’t tell me there was a price.”

Carefully, he pressed the pads of his thumbs into the arch of her foot. “There is no need to worry,” he soothed. “It was a deal that the gods offered after I accidentally barged in on them in the shrine. If I became his shinshi, then I would not be imprisoned. Ookuninushi himself promised I would be left alone. Naturally, I took the deal.”

A lump came to her throat. “Oh…” Whatever she felt, she didn’t know how to describe it, just that it tightened knots inside of her. Realizing how it might come across to him, she scrambled for gratitude. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried something had happened to you… That you’d been hurt or captured or…or worse.” 

She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. That he’d died. Yet an ugly voice in the deepest recesses of her mind whispered that if his life had changed enough, if his freedom had been stripped, did it mean that the Tomoe she’d known was dead anyway?

“Of course I would not have let that happen. I was determined to do what it took to preserve my life and my ability to move freely. I had to keep my freedom so I could find you.” He took her other foot, wiping it with the cloth, eyes on what he was doing.

Without thinking, she whispered in quavering tones, “Are you really free?”

A long silence elapsed, the kind of silence where it felt disrespectful to even breathe. He kept his eyes down. The truth choked him, until he had no option but to spit it out, just to shatter the tension that bubbled around them.

“No.” It fell flat. He scrambled to salvage it. “Not in the true sense of the word. However, I am not wholly unhappy this way. It was the sort of life I would have chosen — the quiet. The peace. It is nice not to run anymore or to worry about being discovered.”

“I see.” A sad smile scrawled over her mouth, her eyes misting over. Her heart hollowed out, like the inside of a gourd which had been scraped clean. “Then…I’m glad.”

Since she seemed to be at a loss for words, falling silent, he wondered if perhaps she didn’t believe him. He flicked a glance at her face. “Of course I missed you very much,” he continued, softer now. “I thought about you every day. I hoped with all my heart that I would find you again.” A humorless laugh caught in his throat, and he dropped his gaze to the wash basin, his ears shifting down slightly. “Given the circumstances, I am lucky that Mikage took me in. That is why I say I am not wholly unhappy.”

It occurred to her that she hadn’t sounded glad over his newfound contentment, and now he scrambled to justify himself. Not wanting to seem miserable, she insisted, “I don’t mean you shouldn’t find happiness wherever you can. It’s just weird to think that Mikage knows you even better than I do.” Here, she forced a laugh and rubbed the back of her hair. “I hope he’s been treating you right while I’ve been gone!”

Perhaps she thought she was being funny, but her comment left him winded. “It is not like he has replaced you! Mikage is my master. He is like family to me. That is all.”

She dropped her gaze, face burning. She’d just made things awkward for him, acting like Mikage was his new partner. But hearing him use that word — family — confirmed it for her. Tomoe had found a new place in the world on his own, a place where she didn’t quite fit in.

Not knowing what else to say, she murmured, “I know. I was just…joking.” She swallowed hard.

Hadn’t she always promised to be open with him about her feelings? Just a day before, five hundred years in the past, she’d shared with him her thoughts, her fears, her deepest desires. Yet now she made half-hearted, passive remarks, shying away from the truth of the matter. She had to do better. After all, this was the man she’d pledged her forever to, for better or for worse. 

“Sorry,” she said softly. “This is a lot to take in. I’m trying to wrap my head around it, but I don’t really understand what happens next. Onikiri and Kotetsu acted like I’d be moving in, but…I don’t know how anyone really feels. It’s like these things have been decided without me. And I don’t know them or Mikage, really. But you all know each other so well.”

She dug her nails into the stool, the wood threatening to splinter beneath them. Why did she feel like a wounded animal? Especially when these people were being so kind towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut against her tears. Gods, she was tired.

Upon smelling the saline, a tug came to his heart. “No one has made a decision without you. Of course we will talk about it.”

“I guess. It just seemed like you’d already talked to them about it. They knew about the cubs and everything.” She hung her head. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have anyone to confide in. It just came as a shock, you know? Because one day, you and I were planning our future and planning for our family, and now… I feel like things are happening to me. I just wish I understood.”

He paused, his ears flicking backwards, his eyes wide. This wasn’t at all how he’d expected things to go. Now, for some reason, she seemed dejected; she even seemed upset that he’d shared details about their life together when Mikage needed that information to help them.

“It was never done with the intention of stripping your say in the matter,” he began.

“Well, it still makes me wonder.” She sniffed, her feelings tumbling out of control. “What else do they know? That I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to them about? I don’t know what happened while I was gone and now I feel like an outsider — even in my own life.”

He blinked up at her, at a loss. Memories of her vehement resistance whenever she felt cramped, trapped, and controlled surfaced to his mind. In the past, she’d fought with him, had insisted that she do things her own way, had dug her heels in and refused help. To think that she might be doing the same thing again now of all times simultaneously made him feel helpless and irritated.

“I have only told them what they need to know to better support you when the day came,” he replied, matter-of-fact. “Of course, one or two personal details are bound to slip. I have lived here for five centuries, after all.” He resumed cleaning her feet, his brow creased in frustration.

She felt like she’d been backhanded, and she reeled at how easily he’d dismissed her worries, how he’d even seemed annoyed with her. Unable to bottle it up when she was so exhausted, she sputtered, “Why are you being so snippy?”

“I am not being snippy,” he retorted, tone edged like a blade. “I am simply stating my side of the story.”

“And I’m just sharing my feelings!” she lashed back. “I feel so confused and exposed and just…ashamed. Did you tell them about my past? About the things I did back then?” She clutched handfuls of her yukata. “I don’t want them to think I’d be a bad mother.”

“They would never think such a thing. Besides, Mikage has known for a very long time—” The hitch of her breath and her wide eyes stopped him in his tracks.

“You told him?” Her voice rose, filling the bathroom.

Again, his ears pinned to his head. “I did not tell him! He figured it out on his own!” When her face fell, something like devastation creasing lines in her features, he sighed, his ears lowering sideways. He laid a hand on her knee, his expression softening. “He does not think of you differently. He has known since we first met, and he has still treated you the same, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah…” She swallowed past the strained lump in her throat.

Since it seemed like she was on the verge of shutting down, he squeezed her knee, attempting to reach her. “Mikage is a good man — and a worthy god,” he said quietly. “He has encouraged and supported us from the beginning, hasn’t he?” To this, she nodded like her head was too heavy to hold, the rest of her body motionless. “He still supports us and our family.”

It was the first time that Tomoe had mentioned the cubs — their family that they had willingly created together — and it struck her so hard she heard her lungs deflating from the impact. He’d been so quick to call Mikage his family, but what about this little one that they’d forged from hope and love and dreams? Her fingertips found her stomach, her eyes pricking with tears, her breath failing her. Maybe it had been a dream all along after all. But she’d hung everything she had on what they’d shared, what they’d built, on him.

Now he’d changed. And what that meant for their children? She had no idea.

She looked like she’d retreated inside of herself, and he tilted his head to better see her face, wondering if he’d said something wrong. “Nanami?”

She should tell him, she realized, grief swallowing her throat whole. Even if it was selfish of her. On their wedding day, she’d vowed to him that he would be the first one she went to with her troubles; they’d affirmed that they’d be partners and friends. Right now, she had to remember that — and hope that he was still on her side in some way, regardless of their time apart or his other commitments.

“I’m scared about how much you’ve changed…” she said just above a whisper. She clutched the edge of the stool so she wouldn’t grasp at him with desperate hands, that wounded child deep inside of her screaming for him to stay with her, to choose her. It took every ounce of her willpower to fight it back. “I was so happy to see you again and know you were safe. But I don’t understand what this means or if you’ve moved on, and…I’m afraid.” Her lips trembled.

This drew his gaze to hers. So she doubted him, he thought, startled. After all they’d been through, it confused and stung him. Couldn’t she see that she’d been all he’d thought about? That he’d been frozen in time from the day that she’d dropped out of his life, disappearing in thin air out from under his arms? They should be rejoicing at their reunion — not reacting like this.

“Nanami.” He caressed one of her legs, stroking her calf. “It is all right. I still love you. My feelings for you have never changed.”

“It’s been such a long time,” she said quietly, struggling to keep her voice even. “I do believe you when you say you love me, but it’s the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” He watched her hide her mouth behind a hand. 

“You live here now,” she rasped out, one tear escaping and trickling down her cheek, followed by another. “This is your home — with Mikage and Onikiri and Kotetsu. They’re your family and I don’t know where that leaves me.”

Fresh confusion clouded his mind. “I don’t understand—” he began. Whatever was going on in her head, clearly she thought that she’d been pushed out, although he couldn’t comprehend why. Opting for tenderness, he laid his ears back, and he leaned in to kiss her knee. “I am still your partner. I am here for you. I am always here for you. Isn’t that what I promised you?”

When she thought about what Onikiri and Kotetsu had said — about her living here with them — his assurance rang hollow. What did being here for her look like now? She wondered if Tomoe’s role was the same as holding a job, but deep inside, she knew it ran deeper than that. After all, he wouldn’t have used that word — master — had it not been more serious.

Outwardly, she nodded, the action vigorous. She swallowed hard and turned her head. “I still don’t know what any of this means for us,” she admitted. “If you’re devoted to a god…” She trailed off, confusion clouding over her judgment.

“It does not change my commitment to you,” he assured her. Noticing that her toes had started to wrinkle a bit, he scooped water in his palms and let it rain over her feet, rinsing them clean of soap. “We are married. That has never changed.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that, no, they weren’t married anymore. Not given the way things worked in modern times. That realization shattered her heart into too many pieces, the shards and dust grinding it into all her softest parts. All they’d had to go on in the past was a promise — a vow without witnesses, the acceptance from the villagers that they were a married couple. And she’d never doubted the validity of their marriage back then, but now…

Now she couldn’t help her insecurities. If he wanted to tuck tail, if he wanted to keep his life as it was, he could tell her to leave. Her Tomoe would’ve never dreamed of saying such a thing. But this Tomoe… She didn’t know what he wanted, or if he only hung onto her out of some sense of duty.

It seemed she was done talking, but given her condition, he assumed she was too tired to continue. He turned his attention to drying her feet with a plush towel. “I will cover your feet and then go into town,” he said. “You will need food and clothes.”

She opened her mouth to say that she’d go with him, but then she remembered — she had nothing but the yukata she wore on her back. She didn’t even have any shoes. Embarrassed, she stared at the floor. “I’ll pay you back,” she whispered, the words flooding out before she could stop them. “I don’t want to burden Mikage.”

If she could get a job, she silently tacked on. After having been missing for four years, she was sure employers would question her credentials even more than they had in the past. No, she thought, she’d find something. Even if she had to get another waitressing job. It was honest work, and it was better than nothing.

“Please try not to worry too much.” Tomoe reached up, touching her cheek. “Like I have said, you are my wife. Let me help you.”

Unable to protest, she nodded and let Tomoe wrap her feet in makeshift bandages. Once that was done, he promptly rose, preparing to leave. It looked like they’d have to continue their discussion later.

After kissing her forehead slowly and sweetly, Tomoe murmured, “Come with me.” He offered his arm to her.

Wordlessly, Nanami accepted his arm. Her feet throbbed, and she limped on them into the main space of the shrine. He set her on the cushion, then disappeared into another room. She listened to scuffling sounds, and then something dragged across the floor. When he emerged, he carried a folded futon. He laid it out, then gestured towards it.

“I am sure you are tired. Please rest here for now.” Once she’d crawled onto the futon, he felt it was safe to leave her. “Mikage is still working, but I am sure he will talk to you when he has finished. If you need anything in the meantime, simply call out, and he or the shrine spirits will help,” he said, slipping his sandals on at the door. Then, seeing the furrow on her brow, he smiled sadly. “I promise not to be long. I want nothing more than to talk to you.”

Defeated, she nodded. “Okay.” A pause, and she realized she might’ve sounded frosty towards him. She ducked her head in gratitude. “Thank you, Tomoe. I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

And she still didn’t, she thought. She was trying so hard not to doubt him right now, not to go back to that place of panic, that little girl inside of her which shouted warning after warning. Tomoe wasn’t like that, she reiterated in her head over and over. There was no way he could’ve changed that much — not even like this. Right?

For a moment, Tomoe lingered in the doorway. As much as he wanted to stay, to sit by her side and catch up and curl his body around hers until she was comforted and safe, he couldn’t. Her human body was weak, and she was on the verge of illness, just like she’d been five hundred years ago. 

Hopefully, with food, medicine, and rest, she’d be good as new, he thought, sliding open the door. Just before he exited, he called over his shoulder, “I will see you shortly. Try to get some rest, my love.”

With that, he stepped out into the warm evening air and looked up towards the sky. The glow cast from Tokyo illuminated the horizon like an aurora, overpowering the dying dregs of the setting sun and the pinpricks of stars which fought to break through. But they fought a little harder to be seen now, and the city lights didn’t feel as intrusive as before.

This was a new era — the era Nanami had grown up in, the era she belonged to. And now that she was home, perhaps he could embrace it as the era that he belonged to as well.

Chapter Text

While Tomoe shopped, Nanami relegated herself to curling up in the futon, attempting to sleep. For a while, she dozed, her dreams interspersed with fragments of what could’ve been memories, blurring the line between her past and her present. In those moments of confusion, when she cracked her eyes open and saw the wooden panels on the walls, she could imagine that Tomoe waited for her just out of view, spooning stew into a bowl, ready to shower her with care and affection. Then she’d open her eyes a little wider and realize that this wasn’t her home up north, that she was alone with near strangers, that she could never go back to all the things that she held dear and familiar.

To say it was devastating would’ve been an understatement.

Tomoe had never forgotten her, but there were many things about her that he had forgotten. Somewhere, along the way, he’d forgotten himself too. She clung to those last remnants of a time long gone — his pet name prior to leaving, his insistence to cook for her, his soft kisses to her forehead. But they were cold comforts when his attention diverted from her, focused elsewhere like something lurked at the periphery, waiting in the shadows to snatch him away from her.

Things were different now. It wasn’t just that they’d lost their house or Tomoe had gained a new position. He’d formed a new family. He’d devoted himself to someone else. And their marriage had dissolved with the shifting of time and society. He was no longer her husband in anyone’s eyes; they were just two people, once joined in love and commitment, now clinging to that past commonality for dear life. If this was truly her new reality, then she didn’t think she could ever stop mourning such a loss.

For a while, the tears spilled down her cheeks and blotted into the pillow where she desperately hid her face. Misery washed over her like rogue waves, unpredictable and overpowering and relentless. As her nose constricted shut, her throat began to burn, her entire being yo-yoing between hot flashes and chills. Her reality morphed further, half-sleep and wakefulness swirling like torrential rain. There was no respite.

At some point, she must’ve cried herself to sleep again, because the clack of the door jolted her to awareness. Somehow, she felt much heavier than she had only hours earlier, like an invisible weight pressed her down into the futon. She felt drunk, cotton filling her mouth and her skull, leaving her struggling to move. Despite recognizing that another presence had entered the room, her confusion muddied her perception, disallowing her ability to discern if it was Tomoe or someone else. She sagged, momentarily giving in to her weakness and that feeling that told her to sleep.

Despite Tomoe’s best efforts to be hasty, by the time he returned to the shrine, it was already dark. As he came inside, he found Nanami lying in the futon where he’d left her. Her back was to the door, and he could see little ripples shaking her shoulders every so often, could hear her labored breaths. His ears lowered sideways. She had taken ill, he thought, fresh concern spiking inside of him. It had only taken a few hours for her to devolve to this point.

He should’ve come home after procuring food and a first-aid kit, he admonished himself. He should’ve gone out to buy clothes later. But she’d had nothing except the yukata on her back — hardly enough even for lounging around the shrine.

Approaching her, he knelt by her side, setting his shopping bags on the floor. He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek, checking for a fever. “You are hot,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I should not have taken so long.” Ears laid back, he leaned over and kissed her temple, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I will make dinner. For now, please eat this.” He straightened up, reaching into one of the bags and producing a cellophane wrapped bun. “I will be back with your dinner.” He nuzzled against the side of her damp hair, and then stood.

Nanami cracked her eyes open. At the cool touch of his hand, it finally clicked that Tomoe was really home, that his voice hadn’t been a dream. Much too soon, however, he’d withdrawn that small comfort, his footsteps retreating away from her. Once again, he left her side with barely a word, not even a question about what she needed. He’d forgotten how to be her partner again.

Realizing he was headed for the kitchen and likely wouldn’t be back for some time, she swallowed against her dry, scratchy throat and found her voice. “Tomoe?” She paused, watching him stop in the doorway. “Can I have some more water? Please?”

Tomoe could’ve smacked himself for his negligence. While she could’ve asked Onikiri or Kotetsu for help, he’d still left her alone without an extra cup within reach. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Hurriedly, he went to a cabinet to retrieve a fresh cup and filled it with water. He returned to Nanami’s side immediately, passing her the cup. Then, remembering the medicine he’d bought, he grabbed one of the bags. He rummaged around until he found the box of cold medicine, which he tore open. It took him a moment of fumbling, but he popped two of the pills from the foil and held them out to her in his palm.

“I was told these would help pain and colds. Let us hope it will help your fever too,” he explained.

A lump came to her throat. He was trying, she told herself, taking the pills from his hand. At least he’d gone out of his way to ease her pain. It was another remnant of who he’d used to be — considerate and doting and conscientious of her health and comfort. She wanted to cling onto that part of him, to keep it with her, to hold it as proof that not all was lost. At the same time, the reminder of their past dug into her ribcage, pricking her heart with a thousand minuscule papercuts.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She washed the pills down with water, swallowing in large gulps. The next thing she knew, she’d drained the cup. As tender fingertips brushed her sweat-ridden bangs from her forehead, she sighed, chin quivering again. That touch… It made her think of simpler times, times when she’d been his only focus, his only priority. Clearly, he still cared for her, but she wondered if he’d care enough to fit her back into his life at the forefront, if she’d ever again nestle into that place in his heart that had made her feel so safe. Regardless of whether or not now was a good time to talk, she couldn’t help herself.

Just as his thighs tensed in preparation to rise, she shot out a hand, grasping his sleeve and rooting him in place. “Wait, I need to talk to you!”

Taking in her flushed, damp complexion, his ears pinned to his head. “You need food and rest,” he pointed out. “It would be best to wait until you are feeling better.”

“I’ll eat!” She sat up and opened the bun he’d brought her, taking a moment to pinch a bit off and put it in her mouth. Instantly, she flinched, the artificial flavor and the residual scent of plastic inundating her senses. That was a shock. Given his scrutinizing stare, however, she shook it off. “See, I’m eating. So can we please talk?”

A long sigh pulled from him. Defeated, he nodded. “All right. But only for a few minutes. I need to prepare dinner and you need to sleep.”

“Thanks.” 

She got the feeling he wouldn’t talk if she didn’t finish her bun. Nanami exhaled shakily, then took another bite of the bun. It still tasted strange, and the flavor wasn’t quite as good as she remembered, but her stomach felt like it had stuck itself to her ribs. That was enough incentive to eat. Whether or not she had an appetite didn’t matter anyway, because she had to stay strong for her cubs.

As soon as she’d taken a few bites, he prompted, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

She could’ve mentioned their relationship. She could’ve mentioned his love for her. But she found herself shying away from it, as though it were a roaring open flame, and she would be burned if she drifted too close. Besides, feelings could be seen as petty at a time like this. What mattered more was addressing security, the very thing that knotted her up inside until every cell hurt.

“Our family,” she blurted, clutching the bun in trembling hands. “You’ve barely mentioned the cubs at all. You said that Mikage and the shrine spirits were your family, and you said that they haven’t replaced me, but you haven’t said much about me or the cubs.” 

Stunned, Tomoe blinked. “But I have referred to you and the cubs as my family,” he insisted, a defensive edge lining his tone.

Her fingers left impressions in the soft bread as she pressed onward. “I just get the feeling that this place is your priority now, because you didn’t ask me what I wanted to do, so I want to hear it from you. I want to know if I’m off base or not, because in the past, you always asked me first about anything.”

He shook his head, flabbergasted. “And I have said that I was not stripping away your say in the matter. It is not like we have had time to discuss it, nor do we have our old home anyway. It only makes sense for Mikage and I to open our home to you too.”

“That’s just it! You talk about Mikage and the spirits being your family — not ours — and you talk about welcoming me like I’m company. Don’t you see why I’m a little worried?” she probed, struggling to control the volume of her voice.

His ears plastered to his head. “Not particularly. I have never said that you are not my family. I have never said that Mikage is my sole priority either. Where you are getting this from, I cannot say.”

“You don’t have to say it like that for me to know,” she retorted, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “You said you’re his servant. And I know enough about shinshi to know that means you’re bound to him. Right?”

Another frown furrowed his brow. Why was she expressing so much doubt? To him, it seemed to have come out of nowhere, but apparently she saw something that he didn’t. 

“You should trust me — not jump to such conclusions,” he muttered, propping his chin in his palm, his elbow on his knee. “Naturally, I made arrangements for this very situation. Before I even sealed the contract with Mikage, I made him swear to me that he would negotiate with the gods for my freedom upon your return. However, it is not as simple as walking out — nor would I disregard his generosity. Surely, you understand the position I am in. I have told you what loyalty means in the yokai world.”

Momentarily, she gaped at him, unable to draw a breath, feeling as though she’d been slapped in the face. But what about their loyalty to each other? That was what she wanted to ask, but then he reminded her about what he’d told her in the days she’d wanted to flee the brothel, when she had considered running away with a massive debt and no other prospects lined up. The tanuki had sheltered her, cared for her, befriended her, taken a chance on her when there were no guarantees. She could’ve been a liability to them. And he’d warned her not to turn her back on them so swiftly, lest she lose her only allies and her only means of survival.

But this was different, wasn’t it?

“Mikage told you that you could leave, though. It was always the plan, wasn’t it?” she asked, blinking rapidly. “It’s not like you’re turning your back on him or spitting on what he’s given you. You’ve already paid him back by being his servant for hundreds of years, right?”

Holding her breath, she studied his eyes, but he didn’t respond, seemingly frozen. Her heart dropped. He was hesitating. Panic balled inside her ribcage anew.

“You say you never claimed Mikage was your priority, but you never said he wasn’t either,” she said just above a whisper, her eyes dropping to the bun in her hands. Her vision blurred over, her throat tightening. “So please tell me straight — how much of a priority is our family? Is it before him? Behind him?”

As irritating as it was for her to question him, when he saw the tears in her eyes and caught the scent of cortisol, her body trembling visibly, he couldn’t let himself lash out at her. She really should trust him, he thought, disgruntled. But she’d always had issues with trust. It was something he’d thought they’d worked out years before, but clearly this sacrifice he’d made — a sacrifice for her sake — had rattled her. Now she misunderstood him, and he had to placate her.

“There is no need to worry so. Nor does it have to be so black and white. If I had to, I could serve Mikage and make you a priority.” Running a finger through her hair, he separated a strand of it, then brought it to his lips. “You and our cubs mean the world to me, Nanami. Just because I am a shinshi does not mean I have forgotten. My heart is still yours — only yours.”

“That’s not what it feels like,” Nanami retorted, tearful. “I’d expect us to make a plan together. Maybe you do end up staying here at the shrine with Mikage, but you talk like it’s out of our hands. Like you’ve given up and resigned yourself, like it’s your fate. That’s not the Tomoe I know.”

This time, Tomoe’s scowl didn’t disappear. “I have not given up! I have hardly had the time to do anything about it. You are panicking, and you are not listening to what I am saying.”

“Then spell it out for me! Because you haven’t said anything!” Nanami cried out, setting her half-eaten bun to the side. “I’m really scared, okay? I want to know what’s gonna happen — if we’re gonna start over on the same path, or if things have changed so much that we’re not gonna be in charge of our own lives anymore.” She swallowed hard, her throat aching, her head twinging from the tension. “It’s not about whether we stay here or go somewhere else. It’s about making that decision together — and thinking about what’s best for our cubs. I’m just not seeing that right now, you know?”

An exasperated sigh left him. His eyes half lidded and he leaned closer, his ears alert and tilting forward. “Nanami.” He touched his forefinger below her chin, lifting it. “We have known each other longer than this. Have I ever shown you that I am anything other than a man of my word?” His tail flicked back and forth. “I am your husband. My vows to you stand.”

Everything that had built up over the day rose to a crescendo, and the dam burst. “But you’re not my husband anymore!” she cried, forgetting to be gentle about it, her tears spilling over.

In a flash, he felt like someone had speared a red-hot knife through his chest, piercing all the most vulnerable and softest parts of him, ripping him open to bleed out. He sucked in a breath, his ears laid back, something confused and wounded passing through his eyes. “Not your husband anymore?” he all but shouted. He felt the walls closing in on him, squeezing the life out of him.

But he’d waited for five hundred years, a voice in his head cried out. And to her, she’d only been gone for a day. What could’ve possibly changed during that time? When only the day before, she’d been professing her love and devotion to him?

“You cannot be serious!” he spat.

“I am!” she retorted in a near shriek. “You can’t just say you’re married in this era! You have to get registered with the government. But I don’t have an ID, I’ve been missing for four years, and you probably don’t even have papers. I don’t even know if this is what you want anymore, anyway!”

“And why would I not want it?” he snapped. “Tell me why you believe that has changed, because you know a yokai’s heart stays the same.”

“But yokai can change too. I saw you change in the past.” This time, she didn’t even try to stop her tears, letting them trickle down her cheeks, leaving cold trails in their wake. “I’m scared that you’re just doing this because you’re seeing what we had through rose-colored glasses, or because it’s your duty or something. And, like I said, we’re not married anymore, so—”

“Enough!” 

He panted, ears still plastered to his head. For his wife to say that, that she wasn’t his wife anymore, that it was only a duty… It made him feel like someone had ripped his heart straight from his chest. He’d waited five centuries for her, and to hear this — it made him want to cry all over again. But the tears didn’t come. Instead, his gaze dulled, his brow softening, mouth twitching. His ears drooped.

“I don’t understand what has gotten into your head,” he told her, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I have missed you so very much — I wanted to die when you did not return — but you have so little faith in me that you think I have only accepted you back because it is the right thing to do. Now you tell me that we are not married anymore, that you don’t accept me as your husband.” Slowly, he brought his eyes back to hers. “Why have you changed?”

As soon as the last words had left his mouth, something within him snapped. Before he could stop himself, the tears had sprung to his eyes, pooling in his vision. He locked his teeth as tightly as he could bear, until he feared he’d crack them, until his entire face hurt. But he couldn’t stop the wrack of his chest, or the overflow.

“What have I done wrong?” he asked in wavering tones, bleeding right in front of her, smaller and more vulnerable than he’d ever been. “Why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”

The heartbreak in his voice, those words he’d chosen, made her breath catch. She’d made him cry, she realized. Worse, she’d made him think she was leaving him. She stifled the sound of distress that rose in her throat and clamored out of the blankets, fearing that her anxiety had damaged their relationship beyond repair. He’d always been so quick to spar with her, to push back and meet her at the same level, that she’d never considered she could hurt him so badly.

“No, please don’t say that.” She crawled into his lap, winding her arms around his neck, mouth tugged miserably. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you. It all came out wrong.”

Grieved, she nuzzled against his hair, into the base of one of his ears, breathing in his scent. The scent that was so familiar to her. A tear dropped into the velveteen fur at his ear, and it involuntarily flicked. She kissed it as an apology.

This was everything he’d wanted for so long. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he buried his face in her throat. Even if she’d been the one to hurt him, even if a part of him felt betrayed by her, she was the only one who could afford him true comfort. It had been her absence which had left a hole in his heart, and it had been her words which had torn it wider. She was the only one who could mend it. Unlike her, he wanted to put his trust in their relationship and their vows to each other, no matter what had happened. No matter how much time had passed.

“Then tell me — what did you mean?” he asked, slipping his arms around her waist. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that beat against his lids.

“I meant that I didn’t know what you wanted,” she said, carding her fingers through the back of his hair. “So much has changed in your life. I was scared, and I just wanted to hear from you that our family was still what was most important to you.” She sniffed, clutching the back of his kimono in one hand, the other still in his hair. “So please tell me. Tell me the truth — tell me what’s changed — even if it hurts.”

“My love, I am not so different from when you knew me,” he insisted. “I don’t understand why you don’t see that. Our family is what is most precious to me. I am overjoyed that you and our cubs are back, that I can live with you and raise our children together, just like we had planned.” Here, he lifted his tear-stained face to look at her, something helpless creasing his brow. “Perhaps where we raise them has changed, perhaps not, but that is for us to figure out later. I don’t have all the answers now.”

“Then what answer do you have? What do you know for sure?” she pressed, digging her nails into the fabric of his kimono.

“That I love you,” he replied without missing a beat, tilting his head slightly. “That I want to be with you and continue our life together. You have never stopped being my wife, and you will always be my wife, no matter what anyone else says.” Here, she opened her mouth, likely to reiterate that things were different, that they had to make it legal, but he interjected before she could tear him down again. “I fail to see why we cannot register with the government, but is what we think of each other not most important anyway? Does it matter so much how others see us, to the point that you will not call yourself my wife anymore? That is what we did back then, after all.”

“I know,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, hugging him with all her might. Exhaustion slammed into her, and she sank lower into his arms, now burying her face in his shoulder. A tiny sob shuddered through her body. “I thought maybe your promise to be Mikage’s shinshi would be more important now. I mean, you swore to a god. Do you blame me for getting scared?”

She’d often feared abandonment, he thought, crushing her against his chest. Not that it was unfounded, since she’d been lied to many times, by many different men in her life. Slowly, rhythmically, he rubbed her back, letting her cry into the collar of his kimono. He didn’t know what to do other than to reassure her again and again, and that made him feel more useless than anything. 

And it still hurt. It hurt for her to react so vehemently, to question him with such scrutiny and bad faith, when he’d done all of this for her, for their cubs. And the worst part? He had no proof other than his word. But she wasn’t going to believe him.

“I do not know how to make you believe me,” he said, resting his cheek against the top of her head, rocking her ever so slightly. “I can only tell you my truth — and that is that I want so very much to be with you and our cubs. I will not put my role as a shinshi above my role as a husband or a father.”

She nodded feebly, still keeping her face in his shoulder. “Okay,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say. She was too tired to keep fighting.

Feeling her slipping through his fingers, he gripped her tighter, until his very bones ached. He’d promised himself to her first; he’d sworn his vows to her would always come first. But simply reiterating this fact wasn’t going to help. The only thing he could do was commit to her again and again — in a desperate attempt to make her see.

“I believe we should formalize our marriage as soon as possible,” he said, stroking her hair. “Perhaps that will give you greater peace of mind. Certainly it will give you more support. Married couples have more privileges, don’t they?”

At this, she sniffed and nodded against his shoulder. It still didn’t solve all of their problems — including where they’d live and raise their children — but he clearly didn’t know what else to offer her right now. She was being so selfish, so stubborn, she thought, swallowing hard. And she’d promised him partnership, she's promised him the rest of her life, too. Not to mention, she didn’t want them to become a broken home. The very thought was part of what had pulled her into this horrible spiral to begin with, and yet there was little more he could do to soothe her, because even if he did walk away from Mikage shrine today, it would only exacerbate another fear down the line. And, truly, she didn’t want to issue an ultimatum like that, to rip him away from the people he cared about just because she was panicking. It would only become evidence that he was capable of such a horrible thing, and it’d hurt everyone in the process too.

In the following silence, he waited for her to say something — to say anything. But she only clung to him, nodding inconclusively, sniffling every few breaths. The wetness of her tears soaked the fabric of his kimono. That tight ball in his midst wound to the point of painful. He didn’t have the patience to wait for her answer forever, not when he’d been waiting an eternity already.

“Nanami, what do you think? Will you marry me? Again?”

The pause that followed crushed her under its weight, and she swore Tomoe’s chest had stilled, that he held his breath. A lump came to her throat and she lifted her head to meet his eyes, her own tearing over. Concern and sincerity misted in his gaze as well, his ears lifted halfway, something soft about him. He was such a good man, she reminded herself. Just because he was different now didn’t change that. After all, he’d cried for her, he’d welcomed her with open arms, he’d done his best to accommodate her. Maybe he wasn’t the Tomoe she remembered, but she’d still made a promise to him. And she could see that not every piece of him was gone for good, that not every piece of him had been lost to the sands of time.

Perhaps she could come to love this version of him just as much. After everything they’d been through, she owed it to the both of them — and to their cubs — to try.

“Yes,” she said in a wispy tone, leaning her forehead against his. A heavy sigh collapsed her chest. “I will…”

His heart faltered at her weary expression. Dread coiled within him like a rope. “You do not seem certain…”

Here, she shook her head. “No, it’s just…I don’t know what we’ll do about IDs or birth certificates. I’ve been missing for so long, and you don’t have any of that. Do you?”

His ears drooped. Again, she created more excuses. “That is of no consequence. I am certain Mikage can help. He is a marriage god, after all.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “There is no need to worry. We will figure this out, just as we always have.”

She nodded, falling silent and letting him rub her back, the contact gentle, soothing. He’d always had so much faith in them, she thought. But, lately, she’d done nothing but doubt him. Perhaps it was because she was getting older, the risks of her past having bitten her again and again, or perhaps it was because their time away from such a volatile life had given her a new perspective. Whatever it was, she wanted that certainty, wanted it so badly that she could cry all over again. Yet here he was, offering it to her, and she didn’t know if she could reach out and take it.

One thing was for sure, though. The longer she let this fester, the farther away it would slip from her grasp.

“I guess you wanna do this right away, huh?” she asked.

“And why wouldn’t we?” His eyes half lidded. “We were already married. I do not see the problem, unless you have reservations.”

A wan smile flickered over her mouth, one born more out of exhaustion than anything. “No, you’re right,” was all she could think of to say.

Offering a smile of his own, he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, his other hand remaining at her back. “Good, I am glad we are on the same page.” He bumped his forehead against hers, and though he doubted the problem had been put to rest for good, he could take comfort in this momentary relief.

Guilt soured in the pit of her stomach. Poor Tomoe, she thought, fondling the base of his head. If anything, he had just as much right — if not more — to question her and her loyalty after this conversation. Hoping to comfort him, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, applying light pressure but holding it, the contact soothing her. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling his body untense beneath hers.

At the touch of her lips to his, her breath playing against his cheek, his eyes widened. The sensation itself was foreign to him now, warm and wet yet so gentle, her lips caressing his. It was his first kiss since she’d disappeared. But she kissed him in the way that he remembered so well, pouring forth her sincerity and her feelings into it, as though gifting him an unspoken pledge from the gesture alone. She committed herself to him once more. It fed him a scrap of hope, and he leaned into it, grasping it with every fiber of his being. 

He pressed his mouth to hers hungrily, savoring her taste, her warmth, her delicate nature. He drank in the affection, one of his hands finding her cheek, his claws gingerly scraping her fragile, heated skin. While he could’ve basked in this moment forever, after a beat passed, she lit a hand on his collarbone and pressed lightly, breaking the seal of their kiss much too soon. He exhaled against her damp lips as she panted against his, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

Bringing his fingertips to his mouth, capturing the tingle that lingered there, he mused, “I have not done that in five hundred years…”

At his admission, her eyebrows shot up. She’d kissed him so casually, and yet he hadn’t had contact like this in hundreds of years. And for someone who treasured physical connection so much, it must’ve left him skin starved, lonely.

“Sorry, that probably wasn’t enough, huh?” She laughed, sheepish, shooting him an apologetic look. Before he could respond, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed another kiss to his mouth, this one deeper, longer. His body relaxed and he returned her passion, one hand coming to the back of her head, the other falling to her shoulder blade.

Although she wanted to give him a kiss worth waiting hundreds of years for, another surge of exhaustion and pain washed over her. She couldn’t keep this up. Feeling bad, she gently pulled away from him with a quiet smacking sound, her face hot from what she presumed to be a fever. She cast her eyes downward.

“When I’m better,” she said, “I’ll give you something worth waiting for.” She nudged his cheek with her nose.

The way she put it left a bitter taste in his mouth. She’d reverted to speaking as though he were a customer. “You don’t have to do such a thing if you don’t care to—” he began, then stopped, a cross between a sigh and an exasperated hum catching in his throat.

“I want to,” she insisted, brushing her thumb over his cheek. “If you want me.”

Then, leaning in, she kissed the corner of his mouth. She would’ve said more — that she understood if he was questioning her since she’d questioned him — but then a deep ache settled in her body followed by a chill, and she shuddered. Exhausted, she rested her cheek against his shoulder and shut her eyes.

She was too ill to continue conversation, he realized, his gaze softening in concern. Gently, he lay her back on the futon, and then tucked her in. “I do want you,” he assured her. “As long as you want me too.” Pausing, he pressed a kiss to her overheated skin. “For now, rest. I will start dinner. We can talk more later.”

Too sick to argue anymore, she nodded feebly and shut her eyes. “Thanks, Tomoe.” Her voice sounded faint, faraway, even to her.

She thought she heard him say something in return, but she was already on her way back to unconsciousness. His footsteps faded out into the background, and she fell into a feverish sleep.

Chapter Text

The rest of that evening went by in a delirious blur. Nanami woke up just long enough to have dinner, which consisted of rice and a soup that Tomoe had prepared, and then she went back to sleep. Perhaps it was due to the pregnancy, or perhaps it was due to the stress of the previous twenty-four hours, but she couldn’t remember the last time an illness had hit her so hard. Her symptoms weren’t particularly remarkable — she just couldn’t stay awake. Thankfully, she no longer had any responsibilities calling her attention, and so she spent the next day in a haze, caught between the conscious and the unconscious.

It wasn’t until mid-morning on her second full day in the present that she started to feel more like her usual self. She was a bit congested, a bit fatigued and aching, but her fever had broken and she had just enough energy to get up on her own. After tossing the covers aside, she wandered from the main living area and into the kitchen, in search of tea. What she didn’t expect was to find everyone else in the kitchen — Tomoe scraping grease from the stovetop, the shrine spirits pouring tea, and Mikage sitting at the low table. She started in the doorway.

Mikage lifted his head, a pleasant smile playing on his lips. “Good morning, Nanami-san,” he greeted.

“Good morning!” Onikiri and Kotetsu echoed in unison.

“Morning…” she replied, hanging onto the doorframe. She glanced from Mikage to Tomoe, wondering if she was intruding.

At the sound of Nanami’s voice, Tomoe’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look at her. For the last two days, he’d been concerned about her condition, had been flitting back and forth between her and his duties at the shrine. Sometimes, it had been simply to touch her face, to feel the sweat slicking beneath his fingertips, confirming her fever hadn’t yet broken. Sometimes, it had been to lay a hand on her chest and ensure that she was still breathing, not trusting his ears alone. Of course, she hadn’t witnessed any of this, too difficult to rouse from her near comatose state; she would never know just how much he ached for her and her pain.

Mikage, as well, had seemed slightly perturbed, and for a god who never lost his cool, that had been worrisome. Still, Mikage had tried to assure him, and Tomoe had caught him checking on Nanami, once even feeding her a spoonful of medicine. When Tomoe had asked him about it, he’d merely said he’d blessed one of the bottles of medicine in hopes that it would shorten her illness.

Now that Nanami was here before them, though, on her feet and her countenance restored, relief flooded over Tomoe. He, too, offered a smile. Perhaps Mikage’s blessing had taken effect. “Ah, you are awake,” he said, snagging an extra ceramic cup from the cabinet. “Are you feeling better?”

She shuffled from one foot to the other, clasping her hands behind her back. “Yeah, a little. I think I can sit up for a while, anyway.”

“Good, then it seems that you are on the mend.” Tomoe nodded to himself. Yet as she hovered, swaying from foot to foot, a slight crease formed on his brow. Just because she was up didn’t mean she was back to one hundred percent, he chided himself. “You ought to rest today too. You are still not perfectly well, and we would not want a relapse.”

“Yeah, I don’t want that either,” she admitted. “I felt like crap.”

“Then come have something to eat and regain your strength,” Tomoe urged.

As Tomoe knelt by the table with the cup, Kotetsu lifted the teapot to pour her tea. A tiny spark of irritation flickered in his midst. That was his job as her husband. However, he bit his tongue, finding his own ire ridiculous. After all, everyone had been worried about Nanami, and they only meant to welcome her, to help.

“Yes, please relax!” Kotetsu insisted. “We want you to get better as soon as possible.”

Perhaps sensing Nanami’s hesitation, Onikiri tacked on, “And you had such a long journey too! Please don’t worry, Lady Nanami. We’ll take care of everything so you can get your rest.”

A nervous laugh left Nanami, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks… I feel kind of bad, though. You’ve all been so very kind. I do want to give back in some way.”

“It cannot be helped,” Tomoe pointed out, straightening up. “You cannot help that you are ill. Now come sit. I will dish up your breakfast.” He turned to the countertop, his tail swaying behind him.

Normally, she might insist that she should do something to return their hospitality, but she had to admit her brain was still thick with fog and her limbs felt weak. She caved, drifting slowly to the table. “Thank you.”

As she took a seat, her eyes flicked to Mikage’s side of the table, where several bowls were laid out, some of which held half-eaten remnants from his breakfast. Although Tomoe had clearly made enough for everyone here, it still felt like she was barging in, like she was taking up a seat that wasn’t hers to begin with. She wrapped her hands around the teacup, not knowing what else to do with them.

She was awfully quiet, Tomoe thought as he removed the lid from the rice cooker to scoop a fresh bowl of rice for her. He could’ve chalked it up to her physical state, but he’d known her long enough to pick up on her stiff shoulders, her rigid spine, her weight shifting from one side to the other. It wasn’t like she’d hidden her anxiety from him two days before either, and he doubted she’d fully come to terms with it. Just thinking about it made his heart sink, but it also made him want to work harder to regain her trust.

As he drew up another bowl of miso soup from the pot, he stole a glance at her and reminded himself — all in due time. Stress was the last thing she needed. They should get her settled in now. The rest would have to be addressed as soon as her health had been restored. 

That had been his plan anyway. However, it didn’t seem like leaving it alone was meant to be. 

Mikage cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Onikiri, Kotetsu, do you mind checking the storehouse, please? I need some more of my special wooden ofuda as soon as I finish breakfast.”

“With pleasure!” Onikiri chirped, to which Kotetsu nodded emphatically. With that, they floated to the doorway, leaving the three of them alone.

Silence reigned over the kitchen as the will o’ wisps’ voices faded out at the front of the shrine. The only sound was that of Tomoe’s spoon scraping various pots and pans along with the clink of ceramic. At last, Mikage sighed and leaned forward.

“Nanami-san, I know you’re still recovering, but I’d like to talk to you and Tomoe,” Mikage began.

A cold sensation flashed over every inch of Nanami’s skin, and her breathing quickened, her eyes enlarging. It was about their relationship, that ugly voice whispered in the back of her mind. Mikage was going to set them straight. Or perhaps he’d issue conditions for her staying here. After all, nothing was for free; everything came with conditions. And if he wanted her to work to pay off any debt to him? She’d have to be prepared to do so.

As Nanami sat up straighter, these thoughts swirling through her mind, Mikage grinned sheepishly and took off his glasses. “Please don’t look so worried! It’s nothing bad.” His smile softened. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Nanami’s heart slowly came down from its wild thudding. “Oh… Yeah. Okay.” 

She uttered a nervous laugh, glancing up once as Tomoe set the bowls of rice and soup on the table, along with a pair of chopsticks. Briefly, she flashed him an appreciative smile, but he only looked perplexed. Maybe he didn’t know what this was about either.  

“What do you want to talk about?” she prompted, lifting her chopsticks to pick at her rice.

“Well, unfortunately, there’s no way to say this except bluntly,” Mikage said with a wan smile. He withdrew a cleaning cloth from his kimono and began to wipe his glasses. “I’m afraid I overheard the conversation you and Tomoe had the other day. I’m sorry; it wasn’t my intention.”

“You…what?” Tomoe sputtered, his ears tense and alert. “That was a very private conversation! It is beyond me why you would bring such a thing up even if you did overhear it!”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I feel like it has to be addressed.” Mikage replaced his glasses on his nose and slipped the cloth back into the fold of his kimono. “I don’t want to pry, but I have to admit — after hearing what I did, I’m concerned about you two. It sounds like I might be part of the problem here, so I think it’s best if we all talked about it.”

Nanami’s face grew hot, her appetite vanishing completely. She set her chopsticks down, eliciting a worried glance from Tomoe, but thankfully he bit his tongue on the matter. Of all the things that could’ve happened… And now Mikage had heard how she felt about the situation between him and Tomoe. What sort of ingrate would Mikage find her to be? After all, it was just as Tomoe had said; he and Mikage had opened their home to welcome her in. And all she’d been able to do in return was question them.

She’d never wanted Mikage to get mixed up in her business — and certainly not in her relationship with Tomoe.

“That was supposed to be between me and Tomoe,” she said softly, folding her hands in her lap and staring down at the table. Still, she watched them both out of her peripheral vision. “I hope you know I am grateful you let me stay here. You’ve been very kind and generous—”

Mikage lifted a hand, frowning slightly. “Please, Nanami-san, don’t worry about me. Trust me, I understand.” When she peeked up at him, he offered a sympathetic smile. “It sounds like you had some valid concerns about what the contract meant for Tomoe — and for you. I just wanted to talk about that and your future as a family.”

Her breath hitched and she lifted her head, her eyes wide. “Does that mean you’re going to free Tomoe?” she blurted out. “You told him you would, didn’t you?”

At this, Tomoe flinched. “Now, wait a moment! There is no need to talk about Mikage like that. He has not captured me like some pet!” His tail lashed back and forth, but his ears stood high.

Wounded, Nanami said, “You don’t have to talk about me like that either. I thought we were supposed to be on the same side here!”

“Please,” Mikage interjected, raising both hands to placate them. “Let’s talk through this one thing at a time.”

“Fine, then tell me — is Tomoe free or not?” Nanami’s throat tightened, her vision already blurring slightly.

“He’s more or less free to make his own choices,” Mikage replied. “If you’re worried about me abusing my power over him, I promise you that I’ve always treated him like family.”

“It is true,” Tomoe piped up. “Mikage has been very good to me. He has not made me do anything I did not wish to do of my own volition.”

“Then you’ll let him out of the contract, right?” Nanami stared at Mikage with shimmering eyes, her mouth pulled downward in a frown, brows knit together. “If that’s what he wants?” Here, she shot an anxious glance in Tomoe’s direction. “That is what you want, right? You said you negotiated with Mikage for when I came back. It’s not turning your back on him if you just break the contract, ‘cause you can still be family, can’t you?”

At this, Tomoe’s mouth opened and shut. He felt frozen, caught between Nanami’s desperate gaze and Mikage’s intense one. He’d told her that it wasn’t that simple. Yet here she was, putting him on the spot to give an answer about their future again — and in front of Mikage, no less.

Thankfully, Mikage intervened.

“Let’s try not to put any pressure on each other while we figure this out,” he said gently. “Tomoe’s case is a little more complicated than just breaking a contract. Besides, I get the feeling it wouldn’t make you feel better, anyway.”

Nanami’s stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t change what’s already happened,” Mikage pointed out, his expression serious. “And it sounds like what you’re really worried about isn’t Tomoe’s freedom anyway.”

Here, Nanami opened her mouth to protest. “But I do want him to be—”

Mikage held up a hand. “Please, let me finish. I’m not saying you don’t care about his well-being.” Begrudgingly, Nanami shut her mouth, so he continued. “Now, it sounds to me like you’re worried he won’t choose you. And me setting him free of the contract or the two of you renewing your wedding vows won’t make you feel any better, because this is about trust. You won’t get that trust by asking him to do something, because you’ll always wonder if he did it out of obligation. You’ll have to find that trust again on your own — before you make any big changes.”

Frustration tightened in Tomoe’s chest, a frown twisting his brow. But below that bubbling trapped in his skull, he felt pierced. “How can I regain a trust that I did not consciously break?” He bit out. “I have offered everything that I know how. And I have done nothing to break anyone’s trust.”

“No, but the fact is that things have changed. It doesn’t mean either of you did anything wrong. It’s the nature of all beings in this world — to grow and to learn and to adapt,” Mikage explained. “That’s what’s happened here. Tomoe, you have adapted; but, Nanami-san, you haven’t. You aren’t on the same page yet. And forcing it is only going to make you both feel worse.”

“We are not forcing it. We are finding compromise—” Tomoe retorted, upset straining his tone.

“You can’t compromise on the basis of your relationship,” Mikage interrupted. “You can’t compromise on trust. These things take time — you can’t force it to happen now, just like you can’t force yourself to become something you’re not ready for. I think you both know that already, don’t you?”

At this, Nanami recalled how she’d hesitantly accepted Tomoe’s proposal, and she ducked her head down, hiding behind her hair. Shame burned behind her cheeks. Would Tomoe once again consider her hesitation to be her way of saying she didn’t want to marry him? After all, he’d finally accepted that they were on the same page, just like she’d decided to try. If she didn’t put some sort of conviction out there — if she didn’t make herself clear — then it might hurt Tomoe and their future relationship.

“But Tomoe was right — we were married before,” she insisted, desperation tracing her tone. “I already made a promise to him — I still want to be with him — so what makes it a compromise?”

“I know you did, but the conditions were different back then. You promised under a different set of circumstances.” Mikage frowned slightly, troubled. “That’s why you’re feeling so unstable, isn’t it, Nanami-san?”

When Nanami peeked through her bangs at Mikage, she found him gazing at her with such steady, compassionate eyes that it was like a punch to the stomach. To have someone other than Tomoe look at her with such sympathy felt unnatural; it made her feel like her skin crawled. She shied away from it, feeling like a spotlight had been trained on her, and it was too much attention, too much pressure. Dry-mouthed, she nodded, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together. Please drop it, she inwardly begged.

“And maybe a part of you doesn’t feel like you can share a home with us like this,” Mikage added. “You’ve never been in a situation where something else didn’t take the priority over you. Is that right?”

This time, she remained silent and unmoving. It was true, a little voice whispered to her. Something else had always taken priority. All the way back to her father. To her mother, even, because her mom had never cut ties with her father. Not like she could’ve, but still. She dug her nails into her sweat-ridden palms.

“I don’t think you’ve ever experienced true peace, even when you were with Tomoe in the past. You had to run; you had to hide yourselves. It took you both a long time even to get to that point, didn’t it?” Mikage probed. “You had to leave behind the struggles you knew for the unknown to get there. That wasn’t easy.”

This was too uncomfortable, Nanami thought, biting down onto her lower lip. “What are you trying to do?” she spat, drawing her fiery gaze up to him, although her eyes stung, tears threatening to rise. “Are you trying to prove that he’s happier here? I know it’s safer here. I’m not stupid and I’m not trying to take that away from him. But you don’t have to rub it in!”

Tomoe’s ears pinned to his head. “Nanami, you are twisting his words—” he growled.

“No, it’s okay,” Mikage interjected, offering a wan smile, waving a hand. “I can take it, promise.” Here, he turned back to Nanami. “I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding me. All I’m trying to say is — this isn’t familiar to you. But you need to understand that it wasn’t familiar to Tomoe either; his adjustment wasn’t easy. It took him years. He didn’t let his guard down for a long time.”

“I know how he is,” she couldn’t help but blurt out, something twinging inside of her chest. “You don’t have to tell me that, ‘cause I know it’s not easy for him to let anyone in.”

“I know that you know,” Mikage said gently. “And maybe that’s why it feels so wrong to you — because you haven’t had a chance to understand this situation and trust me too.”

Once again, she was being ungrateful, she thought, blinking rapidly. But it was too difficult to hold back when her frustration mounted on itself, when she felt herself digging her heels in like a donkey. Still, she drew in a deep breath and grasped for maturity. “It’s not that I think you’d do something to hurt us on purpose. You did help us before. It’s just that this is different. You weren’t in control of Tomoe back then. Or me.”

“He is not going to control you,” Tomoe butted in, unable to refrain. His tail flicked, anxious. “Nor is he controlling me. But you will not believe that, will you?”

“And I don’t blame her for not believing it,” Mikage piped up. “Like I said, these things take time. This is what I meant when I said you two aren’t on the same page. It doesn’t have anything to do with who Tomoe pledges allegiance to. It’s that this isn’t something you’ve ever experienced before. Your life has always been so volatile. That makes it scary.”

“Then what am I supposed to do if it’s me who’s the problem?” Tears wavered in Nanami’s vision, her throat closing up. “You said I can’t force change. If I can’t force myself to change, are you saying I’m gonna mess everything up for him?”

“No, not at all. I’m only trying to help you recognize what this is, and to encourage you both to take it slow. Give each other grace as you figure it out,” Mikage replied.

Take it slow? Tomoe’s brow furrowed, and he stared at Mikage, wondering just what was going on in his head. Whatever about this could they take slow? Mikage was being cryptic, he was being vague, and it was just like him to offer these sorts of useless platitudes instead of coming out and saying what he meant.

“I am giving her grace,” Tomoe said through his teeth. “I am trying so hard. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

“It’s not about what I want,” Mikage said, ruffling the back of his hair and smiling nervously. “I’m just telling you that it’s not a matter of going back to the way things were. Unfortunately, it won’t be the same again.”

Unable to help it, Nanami hung her head, her chin quivering. Fresh tears swam in her eyes, and she sniffled loudly. The warm weight of Tomoe’s arm looped around her shoulders, but it did little to fill the hollow forming in her chest. This was impossible, she thought, grieved. Mikage had all but told them that it couldn’t be solved. After all, if Tomoe had had five hundred years to grow and change, and she’d only had a handful of days — most of which she’d spent asleep — then where did that leave her? Always behind. Always unable to catch up. A tiny cry caught in her throat.

Hurriedly, Mikage tacked on, “Hold on, that doesn’t mean it has to be bad. It is possible to rebuild — to be even stronger than before.”

Just watching this conversation was agonizing. Although Tomoe could see Mikage’s intentions, although he’d always trusted his god’s judgment, this time he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too soon for Nanami. After all, she’d broken down into tears, clearly doubting herself — and their relationship. And he wanted so badly to wipe her tears away for good, to reassure her, but when she was like this, crumpled in his arm so weightless and so fragile, he wasn’t sure she’d hear a word he had to say.

But he had to try.

“You are not the problem, Nanami,” he said softly, cupping her too-warm cheek in his free hand. “It is not your fault what has happened — it is not anyone’s fault. It was an accident.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides, I am not without agency. I would not allow anyone to lay ruin to my life. Not you or Mikage or anyone else.”

A choked sob left her, half of a laugh leaking into the mournful sound. That sounded a lot like the Tomoe she knew, she inwardly admitted. “You really wouldn’t?”

“No! Certainly not! Am I truly the type to allow someone untrustworthy to have sway over me? Am I the type to hold my tongue and bow my head in questionless obedience?”

A chuckle left Mikage, and he brought his tengu fan up. “Oh, you give me an earful even now,” he agreed with a little nod. “Nanami-san, you should’ve seen him when I told him he couldn’t search for you yet. He almost kicked me in the side of the head.” Another laugh, this one edged with something nervous. “I was a little afraid he would, to be honest.”

At this, Nanami couldn’t help but laugh, even as her tears flooded down her cheeks. “That does sound like Tomoe,” she admitted.

“He has such a bad temper sometimes,” Mikage agreed with a feeble grin. “And I can’t tell you how many times I cried because I thought I wasn’t doing the right thing. It hurt me to see how much pain he was in, and know I couldn’t do anything about it.”

The thought of Tomoe suffering for all those years — of even wanting to die, as he’d confessed to her — rended Nanami’s heart. While Mikage had helped them both, she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t offered more aid.

Her voice came out quieter than she’d warranted. “Why couldn’t you do anything? You’re his god and you’re supposed to take care of him, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that easy.” Mikage smiled sheepishly. “All I could do was offer to suppress Tomoe’s memories since heartbreak is so hard on yokai, but he didn’t want that.”

Nanami’s heart faltered, and she swallowed hard. What could she say to that? She knew how much it hurt yokai. She’d witnessed it in the World Over Yonder. There were yokai who clung to the memory like tattered shreds of a well-worn sweater, because fading away, their spirits chipped at bit by bit, was better than the alternative — never having loved at all. If Tomoe had been willing to take that risk, to hurt himself for five hundred years over her, then that had to speak to his devotion to her, didn’t it?

Scraping for the words, she murmured, “You really suffered all of those years when you could’ve done something?”

“If there was even a small chance that I might miss your re-emergence, it was not worth it,” Tomoe said, his steady gaze locked on Nanami. “I refused to forget about you for even one second. Simply forgetting is not a good solution. It solves nothing.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it was all I had to offer. I couldn’t stand to see you in so much pain.” Mikage sighed, and then turned his attention back to Nanami. “I wanted to do more to help, but it had to happen at the right time. I couldn’t run the risk of disrupting the timeline. So maybe you think I’m cruel for keeping Tomoe away from you and not sparing you the pain of what you went through, but who can say what would’ve happened if I’d intervened?” He shook his head. “Gods aren’t supposed to mess with the flow of time and fate. That’s not our place.”

Mikage had told him the same thing, Tomoe thought, disgruntled. At the time, he’d felt slighted, even robbed. Simply knowing this fact wasn’t the same as understanding it, however, but now he felt like he did understand. If Nanami hadn’t been through what she’d been through, would they have connected? Would Mikage have really spared her pain? Or would he have left them both in a worse place by preventing her from going into the past? After all, it had been her who’d saved him from Ikusagami’s sword. He would’ve died on that riverbank five hundred years ago had it not been for her.

“Mikage has always had our best interests in mind,” he admitted, drawing Nanami into his chest, now wrapping both arms around her and squeezing her close. “I will not lie and say I have never doubted him. I doubted him when he barred me from finding you. For a while, I did not even trust him anymore…”

“And it took time to build that trust back,” Mikage added, idly waving the tengu fan towards his face. “It’s not impossible, Nanami-san. This is a transition period in your lives — although, it’s a pretty tough one.” Here, he smiled sadly. “That’s why I think it’d be a good idea for the two of you to slow down. Take the time to get to know each other again. The only way to build trust is time — time to see someone show up and keep their word again and again.”

At this, Tomoe bristled, his heart beating faster. He didn’t like the sound of that, he thought. “Get to know each other again? But we have already spent years together!”

“Yes, but that was back then,” Mikage explained. “I know you don’t like to think about it, but five hundred years have passed, Tomoe. And time has left its mark on you; you’re not the same person you were back then. Because of that, you’ll have to build a new relationship now — as the people you are in the present, instead of who you used to be in the past.”

A new relationship. The words echoed in Tomoe’s head until he felt dizzy, like he’d been pushed through a funnel. It didn’t make sense, he thought. Mikage acted like time had erased everything they’d had together. That wasn’t possible — not when she’d consumed his every thought. Not when all of this had been done for his family’s sake, for their future. And now Mikage told him that they should give each other grace and get to know each other again?

“I have not forgotten how to have a relationship,” Tomoe insisted. “I know how to care for her. I thought of her — of our cubs — every day. You know that I did, Mikage.” His voice raised slightly, and he trembled from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail. “I have never lost my faith nor my trust in her!”

A sad smile scrawled over Mikage’s face. “But you have, Tomoe. You both hold doubt for each other. You asked her why she changed. You told her you didn’t think she seemed sure about marrying you. Can you look her in the eye and say for sure that you trust her?”

Tomoe’s mouth opened and then shut. His cheeks flashed with heat. Suddenly, he couldn’t look at Nanami, because she’d shaken him, and now Mikage had shaken him too. It was just one more chip in the foundation of their relationship, he thought, clenching his teeth. And why was Mikage the one with the chisel?  

“It is only because she has expressed doubt in me,” he mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter why — what matters is that it is,” Mikage pointed out. “This is why you shouldn’t rush into a legal marriage.”

Anxiety spiked up Nanami’s throat, and she snapped her head up. Suddenly, she felt the need to defend their relationship. Tomoe had waited too long, she thought, breathing harder. He’d lived in tremendous pain for five hundred years even when he’d had a cheap, easy solution right in front of him. If he’d done that much for her, then he deserved her to stand up for him — and their marriage — too.

“We’re not rushing!” she blurted. “We already had a relationship. We already had a marriage! So it’s just getting a piece of paper, right? ‘Cause we already chose to be together!”

As soon as the words died out in the air, another wave of doubt seized inside of her. She was just spitting out the same words Tomoe had told her before. What was more, Mikage had been pushing back against their wishes, and Tomoe had been defending him against her questioning. She gripped the front of Tomoe’s kimono in white-knuckled fists, as though he’d disappear any minute now. “Please don’t take Mikage’s side and agree,” she inwardly begged. Because if he backtracked now, after he’d asked her to marry him again, then that meant one thing. That Mikage’s opinion held the most weight to him now. It wouldn’t be about what Tomoe wanted for himself. It wouldn’t even be about what Tomoe viewed as his duty. It would show where he truly stood. And if that was the reality, it’d crush her beyond recognition.

Now she agreed with him, Tomoe thought, flicking his gaze down at her. And, based on how pale her complexion had gone and the way she clung to him, he had an idea of why she’d had a change of heart. It had nothing to do with her true feelings about him, he realized, his face falling. But everything to do with her fear.

Mikage must’ve also come to the same conclusion, because he frowned. “Even if it is what you choose, it’s better to take the time to think about it and take these steps from a place of stability. Not fear or desperation or anything else.” He fanned himself slowly. “I don’t think you’re ready yet. I have no doubt you two will figure it out, but you need to take some time to reflect. That’s all.”

Tomoe flicked his gaze from one side of the room to the other. He could feel Nanami trembling against him, could feel how she cleaved to him, the grip of her fingers in his kimono and the cut of her nails through the fabric pleading with him to stay. To put her first. And while his first inclination was to scoff and blow off Mikage’s insistence, to tell him that it was ridiculous, what gave him pause was something else Mikage had said, something he had evidence of.

It wouldn’t make Nanami feel any better.

In fact, if he gave in now, there was no guarantee that Nanami wouldn’t look for evidence that he’d done it just to placate her. This wasn’t about him defending her or taking her side over Mikage’s. It wasn’t about his role as a shinshi versus his role as a husband and a father. And he wondered — if he pushed back against Mikage just for the purpose of soothing Nanami, would it backfire?

He stared down at the crown of Nanami’s head. When he’d asked her to marry him again, she’d been hesitant. She hadn’t wanted to jump in headfirst right away. She wasn’t ready, he realized, eyes wide. Even if he was. Even if she’d insisted to Mikage that it only made sense. His heart cracked all over again.

“Perhaps Mikage has a point,” he said slowly, continuing to cradle Nanami in his arms, “Perhaps we ought to find the answers we don’t have yet.”

Fear cracked through her like a thunderbolt, her body going rigid, her heart thrashing. She felt herself tunnelling, as though everything around the periphery was going black, closing in on her and squeezing the air from her lungs. He’d taken Mikage’s side, she thought, growing so dizzy she thought she might pass out. He trusted Mikage, and not her. And now he was backtracking, now he wasn’t going to marry her at all, now she’d lost her chance to make this right—

“Nanami,” Tomoe’s voice called softly, as though he tread on delicate tip-toes over the thinnest ice, “This does not mean that I am withdrawing my proposal. Only delaying it.”

“H-huh?” Her teeth chattered.

As the scent of salt and adrenaline and cortisol bloomed from her, he enveloped her tighter in his arms, crushing her against his chest. Security, he had to provide security. This was all he could do for her now.

“Nothing I have told you has changed. I am still your partner,” he said delicately, kissing the crown of her head. “But if you are not ready for whatever reason, if we need to find the answers for our life together, then we should take the time until we are both comfortable. That is what it means to be a team, isn’t it?”

As he finished speaking, he couldn’t help but utter a breathless, single note laugh. He shook his head at himself, his ears lowering sideways. He had forgotten what that was like, after all. This entire time, that was what she’d been asking of him — for them to work together, for them to figure it out as a team. But he’d been pushing her along, had been making the choices for her, had insisted how she should perceive him and how she should feel. Maybe he didn’t fully understand it, maybe it still hurt him, but the way he’d been going about it — pushing her because her anxiety made him anxious — clearly wasn’t helping.

Still feeling outside of herself, she nodded. Obviously, she was as transparent as she felt — rendered mute by this conversation — because Mikage spoke up.

“Maybe it’d be best to take a time out,” he said, rising to his feet. “You both need to take the time to think about it before you talk about it again.”

He paused, bringing his empty teacup to the sink, where he turned on the tap and reached for a sponge. A small sound of protest left Tomoe, but before he could scramble to his feet, Mikage was already washing up. The god kept his back turned, the message clear. Maybe that move had been calculated too, Tomoe thought with a glance at Nanami, who’d tightened her grip on him yet again.

“In the meantime,” Mikage continued, working the sponge inside the cup, “we should get you settled in properly, Nanami-san. You should have your own room—”

“My own room?” Nanami sputtered, her heart rabbitting. Did he not want her to share a bed with Tomoe? She fretted her lower lip between her teeth. Or perhaps Tomoe didn’t want that.

“If you’d like. If you want to share a room with Tomoe, that’s fine too,” Mikage added. He squeezed out the sponge and rinsed his cup off. “But I think you should have your own space in the shrine — just to make it your own. What do you say?” Finally, he turned to look over his shoulder, giving her a warm smile.

If he hadn’t asked her — if he hadn’t said that he thought she should have a place to make her own, not that she would as a requirement — then she might’ve thought she had no say in the matter. But he offered her a choice, asked her how she felt about it. And she had the chance to say no. Then again, where else could she go? Tomoe had been right about one thing, and that was that they hadn’t had time to figure anything out. Besides, Mikage offered her more than a bed to sleep in; now he offered her a space to carve out for herself, a way to imprint and leave her mark on the shrine.

She still didn’t know how she felt about this. But when he smiled at her like that, when he washed his own dish, when Tomoe kept his arms around her instead of jumping up to clear the table, it made her question her knee-jerk reactions from before. Clearly, there was more to Mikage and Tomoe’s relationship than she’d first thought. Especially if Mikage let Tomoe push back like he had earlier. Only time would tell if Tomoe actually had a say, or if Mikage considered his opinion and did what he wanted anyway.

“That would be nice,” she said haltingly, like a fawn wobbling cautiously into a clearing. Slowly, her grip on Tomoe’s kimono loosened. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if she could share Tomoe’s bed.

It seemed like Mikage wouldn’t let her off that easily, because he prompted, “And what about your sleeping arrangements?”

“Of course she will share my bed,” Tomoe huffed, his tail flicking. “She has only slept separately due to her fever. I did not want to disrupt her sleep and make her worse.”

At this, Nanami peeked through her bangs up at him. He hadn’t even hesitated, she thought, her mouth going dry. A tiny spark of hope flickered inside of her.

Realizing Nanami stared up at him, unspeaking, Tomoe faltered. He glanced down at her, his lips parted, wondering if he’d spoken for her, wondering if this was what she wanted too. She’d told him she wanted him to ask her opinion before making decisions, he thought, his ears lowering sideways. And he’d forgotten to do so yet again.

“That is, if you would like to share a bed with me,” he mumbled, his cheeks growing hot.

She drew a finger over the fold of his kimono, her eyes tracing the action. “I would,” she said softly. “It’d make me feel better.” Here, a humorless laugh escaped her, her eyes dull. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

“Then it’s settled,” Mikage said, whisking a towel from its holder to dry his cup. “We can move you into Tomoe’s room, and I’ll clear some things out of the spare room so you can have a place to go if you need some quiet. All right?”

“I will help you,” Tomoe began, but Mikage shook his head, still smiling.

“No, thank you. I’ve been meaning to go through those things anyway.”

It dawned on Tomoe then — Mikage wanted to show Nanami that he could take responsibility of his own shrine. And he wanted to show her that she was welcome, that she had his blessing to stay and take up equal space. That was the point, he thought, blinking. It wasn’t to push her away from him. And maybe that was what Nanami needed right now, because she’d never had that before; everything she’d ever had, even when they’d been together in the past, had been shared. While that had been fine back then, things had changed, even in the span of less than a week for her. And he began to realize just how quickly someone could change in response to their surroundings, because the Nanami before him now had different needs than the Nanami he’d known five hundred years ago.

Maybe their situations weren’t so different after all.

Mikage breathed in deeply and then released it as a sigh, peering out the window. “It’s a lovely day,” he mused. “It’s supposed to be warmer today too.” Here, he turned to smile at Nanami and Tomoe. “Tomoe, why don’t you take Nanami-san to sit in the garden? You don’t have to talk about your troubles. Just relax for a bit.”

“I am not sure if that is a good idea given Nanami’s condition,” Tomoe began, shooting a worried glance in Nanami’s direction.

“Actually, I’d like that,” Nanami admitted. “I could use some fresh air.” At Tomoe’s frown, his fang sinking into his lower lip, she offered a wan smile, her hand flattening at his chest. “Just for a little bit. Like…twenty or thirty minutes?”

His ears twitched backwards, and he heaved a sigh. “If you must, but I insist you wrap in a blanket. Do not catch cold.”

A chuckle left Mikage. “It won’t do her any harm.” He padded towards the door. “I’ll be in the inner sanctum. Please let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he exited the room, leaving Nanami to ponder the entirety of their conversation. She still felt a little raw, but that pins and needles sensation was fading away. She could breathe a little easier.

Feeling her muscles ease, Tomoe exhaled in a long, steady stream, his eyes fluttering shut. Thank goodness, he thought. He kissed her forehead again, slow and sweet, and breathed in her scent.

“Finish your breakfast,” he said quietly, nudging her bangs with his nose. “Then we will go outside.”

Just like the old days, he fussed over her, she thought, a tiny smile flickering over her lips. An ache of nostalgia, of longing, pulled in her chest. This time, it was easier to quiet, because he was here with her now, giving her a glimpse of the person that lingered beneath the layers of time.

“Okay,” she said softly.

She lit ginger fingertips to his chin and kissed his cheek. Although she wasn’t very hungry, she didn’t want to worry him anymore. They both had already been through too much, and she was sure he was as exhausted as she was. If she’d learned anything about relationships and marriage over the last few years, it was that some battles were best put on hold. This was one of them. And Mikage had a point. If she wanted to see that Tomoe was still there, that he was still the man she loved more than anything else in all the worlds, then she needed time. She’d choose to step back from the swirling maelstrom of her fears, to resist its magnetic pull that’d sweep her away until she couldn’t draw herself to safety again.

She could do it, just for today, just for now. So she fought against that voice that whispered what if, what if, what if, and she kissed the corner of his mouth one more time.

Chapter Text

As Nanami had promised, she finished the rest of her breakfast, eating every grain of rice and drop of soup. By the end of it, she was stuffed to the point of drowsiness, but at least Tomoe seemed satisfied that she wouldn’t starve, that her health would be restored. She rested in the air conditioning until he’d finished washing up the dishes, only gathering up her strength near the end of the washing to help him dry them and put them away. The fact that he allowed this much made her feel a little more secure, a little more equal to him, like she had in the old days. Perhaps he knew how much it meant to her, or perhaps it was because she was feeling better, but whatever it was, it was good to be allowed to chip in even this much.

Once the dishes had been put away, he linked his arm with hers and led her out to the garden. She hadn’t been outside since she’d first come to the shrine at twilight days before, and she certainly hadn’t been paying mind to her surroundings then. The grounds were beautiful, well kept and manicured, the trees and shrubbery neatly shaped, the pathways edged, the pavement swept clean of debris.

There in the garden, he set out two chairs that he’d found in the storage building, and they lounged amongst the flower beds by the small koi pond. He even passed her a bag of food, letting her toss morsels to the fish, an activity she found relaxing. For the first time since her arrival, she let the tranquility envelop her, and her mind went quiet.

Spending the day with him like this again, in this place that had once offered them shelter and asylum from the gods who sought Tomoe’s life, put things in a new perspective. Once they’d gone inside, she’d watched his every move, taking in the ease with which he carried himself, all hints of tension gone from his shoulders. She observed how he interacted so casually with the shrine spirits throughout the afternoon, how he spoke with Mikage during the evening meal, and fresh guilt for her interactions with him festered in her gut. No matter how she tried to swallow it back, it refused to release her. And come bedtime, she was so knotted in her feelings that she couldn’t so much as shut her eyes.

She lay perfectly still, side by side with Tomoe, his warmth radiating from his body and bleeding into the sheets, offering a small amount of comfort. Perhaps he’d been tired, because she was certain he was already asleep, having rolled to his side with his back to her, his eyes shut and his breaths deep. For a while, she stared at the ceiling, counting those breaths, willing herself to slumber as well. But it didn’t come.

Carefully, she sat up, the blankets slipping to her lap. She gazed down at his form curled up amongst the blankets, something about him so oddly fragile. It made her think about when they’d first come here, when he’d transformed into the body of a child to hide his true identity, when she’d held him in her arms and felt the mortality that thrummed through his veins. No one else had ever seen this side of him before her, she thought, reaching timid fingertips towards him. Her hand wavered, but she finally allowed it to rest on his head, the silky strands of his hair gracing her skin. Maybe Mikage had also witnessed such a grievous injury, but at that time, she’d trusted him with Tomoe. She’d trusted Mikage to be an ally, to help them. And, after all, wasn’t that why they’d been journeying from their home to his shrine in the first place?

She’d lost her trust in Mikage, and in Tomoe too. And for what reason? Because Mikage had done the very thing that they’d hoped he’d do and had protected Tomoe?

Her eyes dropped to the lonely valley between her and Tomoe’s bodies, her hand following her gaze and smoothing out the wrinkles in the blankets. Her fingertips tingled from the lingering sensation of Tomoe’s warmth, and so she brought them to her lips, eyes fluttering shut. A sigh escaped her nose.

She really ought to understand, she thought. She’d once been in a bad situation too. And Tomoe had even alluded to that. He’d told her what loyalty had meant to yokai. He’d told her not to burn her bridges. Of course, she’d done just that the moment she’d left the brothel without a word. The tanuki, like Mikage, had brought her in, had taken a chance on her, had shielded her. And while what she’d sacrificed in return had been great, she wasn’t so sure that she could equate what Tomoe had done to secure safety with what she had done to do the same. Maybe he had been backed into a corner, but he’d still chosen it, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like Mikage had mistreated him. It wasn’t like Mikage held a debt that Tomoe could never hope to repay over his head. Today, she’d seen just how much Mikage respected Tomoe — and her too. Mikage had wanted them to have a choice.

Perhaps she had been thinking too much of her experience at the brothel this whole time. Considering Tomoe trapped, considering him to have sold his soul… But Tomoe hadn’t been forced to prostitute himself, to sell his dignity and chip away at his self-esteem, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Yes, he had given something back to Mikage in return for a place to go, but the way he spoke to Mikage, the way he looked to him, wasn’t anything like how she’d looked at her brothel sisters.

Sure, there had been camaraderie there with the tanuki. There had even been protectiveness. But there had also been fear — and division. Not at all like the way Mikage listened, how he understood, how he treated Tomoe as an equal. The way Tomoe chose to serve him in return was just that — a choice. She hadn’t witnessed Mikage order Tomoe to do a single thing. Nor had she ever felt like Mikage would raise his hand against either of them, threatening to strike them like Kazuko had whenever she’d stepped out of line at the brothel. Perhaps Tomoe had accepted the deal to placate the gods, but that didn’t mean it was involuntary; in fact, it seemed more like a job than she’d initially thought. It was Tomoe’s free will after all.

She’d only been so afraid that she’d been replaced. Yet Mikage had treated her with the same kindness — not only five hundred years ago, but in the present too. And no one had ever treated her like that — no one apart from Tomoe, that was. She hadn’t even thought it was possible for someone other than Tomoe — a person who was one in a billion — to be genuine like that, especially towards a near stranger.

Neither had she been so open and warm to others either. While she’d always viewed herself as kind and friendly towards others, she had also been wary and guarded, closed off, afraid to let anyone come near. She’d kept her many secrets, and she had hidden her true identity and feelings from so many people — not just the tanuki, but the villagers she’d lived with up north too. For so long, it had been just her and Tomoe, floating alone on their own island, far removed from everyone else. Even their children felt more like a concept, like a dream, than a reality. She hadn’t even realized what it would feel like once other people shared that sacred space with her and Tomoe — or how it would make her feel to no longer be Tomoe’s sole focus, his one and only priority.

But Tomoe wasn’t the only one; she would also have to make room in her life, and she’d have to make other priorities too, she thought, turning her focus to the dual pulses of energy nestled within her belly. Would she also push Tomoe to the side? Would she also one day speak to her cubs like Mikage spoke to her?

The realization that she didn’t know it could look like that — that she could balance these relationships, that she could divide priority and focus and love among her entire household — drew a shuddering exhale from her. A humorless, single-note laugh escaped her through her nose, and she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them to her aching ribs. Tomoe already knew how to do that. She was the naive one.

“I’m so stupid,” she whispered to herself, resting her cheek against her knees, staring out into the darkness. “Oh, Tomoe…”

Just as she’d shut her eyes, sighing again, she heard the blankets rustle beside her, the futon shifting as Tomoe rolled over. She remained where she was, expecting him to have only changed position in his sleep, but then a light touch grazed her forearm. And when she fluttered her eyes open, she found him looking at her, a silver swath of moonlight trickling in through the cracks in the windows, illuminating his face with something ethereal, otherworldly.

“You cannot sleep?” Tomoe asked, his rasped voice just a notch above a whisper.

Of course, it was a silly question, because he’d hardly been able to more than doze lightly himself, hyper aware of her vibrating energy. It had disturbed him enough to keep him from slipping into restful sleep, but given how quiet she’d been, he hadn’t expected her to talk about it. Now, however, he couldn’t let her thoughts consume her anymore. Not when she disparaged herself aloud. Not when she called out his name.

Slowly, he sat up, the covers pooling around his hips. He brought his hand to her cheek, cradling it in his palm. “What is wrong?” he asked, bending his head towards hers.

Her gaze shifted to the side, but she could still see him from her peripheral vision. “Oh…I guess I was just thinking too much,” she said with another forced laugh, squeezing her knees closer to her chest. “I have a lot on my mind, y’know.”

As she refused to maintain eye contact, his heart sank. His fingers threaded through her bangs, even as his voice flickered with uncertainty, dipping below a whisper. “Is it the same thing you were upset about earlier?”

“Not…exactly,” she admitted, tilting her chin towards her collarbone, her cheeks too warm. 

Everywhere his fingers brushed felt too warm, actually, she thought, blinking slowly, feeling as though she were in some sort of dream. And if she looked away for long enough, if she focused on a singular moonbeam floating in the empty space ahead of her, she could imagine they were still in their house in the grove of cherry trees. This was the same touch that she loved.

“I feel bad,” she found herself saying, her chest heaving from the weight of her admission. “I was wrong to say those things to you, Tomoe… About how you were putting someone else first. About how worried I was that things weren’t the same. I’m sure I stressed you out an awful lot.”

He blinked, his fingers stilling in her hair. While they’d spent the day together, while the atmosphere had mellowed between the two of them, he hadn’t thought that she’d speak like this so soon. After all, she’d been so afraid. And with her past… He swallowed hard and regained his composure.

“And if it did?” Conviction warmed his tone again, firming it up around the edges. “Then what of it? I am your partner. I would prefer you to share your troubles with me, even if we argue. Even if it hurts. How could I have ever fixed it, had you not told me?”

“Yeah, I still wish I hadn’t made you feel so bad, though.” She flicked what she hoped was a furtive glance in his direction, but their eyes still caught. As quickly as they did, she snapped her gaze away. “I guess I just didn’t understand. You were acting differently, and…a part of me was jealous.” Embarrassed, she hugged her knees tightly to her chest, burying her mouth and nose in them, letting her hair shield her eyes.

He slipped his fingers through the curtain of hair that hid her face from him. Delicately, he drew it back, sliding it behind one of her ears. “There is no need to hide from me,” he murmured, eliciting a fleeting, anxious glance in his direction. 

He opened his mouth to say there was no need for her to be jealous either, but then he stopped. Perhaps it would be more productive to find out why she felt that way. After all, telling her how to feel wouldn’t do anything but rile her up again.

“Were you jealous of Mikage?” he probed, although he already knew the answer based on her comments from earlier. “Why?”

Her heart throbbed, and she dug her nails into her arms. It felt so silly now, she thought. Saying it aloud made her squirm, but they had to have this conversation. She exhaled in a rush and gathered her courage.

“Because,” she said slowly, her voice tinny and nearly inaudible, “you were the only person who ever saw me. You were the only person who’s ever… ever made me your one and only priority.” She swallowed thickly, her throat tight. A beat of silence elapsed, and she uttered a shaky laugh, her eyes stinging slightly. “I know, it’s ridiculous, right? You said you could still be there for me even if you served Mikage. But I was just…afraid of what I was losing. And what that would look like, to not have all your attention. I’d never had that before you, so I was scared to lose it.”

His heart faltered. Although he’d known she’d been scared, although he’d known she’d been worried things would never be the same again, for her to put it in these words shattered him. He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her against his chest, lowering his head towards her shoulder. He held her so tightly it hurt, cleaving her to his heart, wishing she could feel what he felt. Maybe then she’d understand.

“You will never lose me,” he said, crushing her against his form. “Not my devotion. Not my attention. Mikage has said it will take time to build that trust again, but I hope that you have seen over the last few days how much I care for you.”

Her chin quivered. Slowly, she slipped her arms around him in return. Then, she buried her mouth and nose in his shoulder, breathing in his scent, her eyes fluttering shut. His warmth surrounded her, his heart beating so fast next to hers, and being held so tightly gave her a sense of safety she hadn’t felt in days. A broken half sob choked her.

“You haven’t ignored me,” she admitted, her voice muffled by his sleep yukata. “You’ve made sure I was okay and cared for.” 

He’d made sure to maintain balance, another voice in the back of her mind piped up. Although the louder voice, the one which screamed what if, tried to break through, she stuffed it back as far as she could. She couldn’t wreck their relationship any more than she already had.

“It’s so hard for me to understand,” she continued, clawing her fingers into the back of his yukata. “Even the people who were supposed to care for me the most didn’t. Someone or something else was always on their minds… I was afraid that you wouldn’t be able to be there for me or the cubs.” She sniffed, clutching his yukata in shaking hands. “It’s so stupid, because it’s basically like a job, right? And if we were normal people, we’d have careers, wouldn’t we? I couldn’t get upset if you needed to stay late at work, ‘cause that’s just how it is. So…” Her voice cracked, and she found herself swallowing the rest of her words.

“So?” Tomoe probed, tone no-nonsense. “Would it not make sense to be unsettled even then? Regular people or not, if I were always at work, I would not be around to help with the cubs. Naturally, you would be upset.” He gave her a squeeze and hovered his mouth by her ear, dropping his voice to a gentler tone. “That is the opposite of what I vowed to you. I promised I would care for you and the cubs — that I would tend to the house and allow you to live your dream, to work. I have never once considered rescinding my word. It was a given to me that we would continue as planned.”

But they couldn’t continue as planned, she thought. In the present, even her dream of opening a school had changed, no longer quite as feasible or necessary as it had been back then. She couldn’t even think about work right now, so she merely nodded against his shoulder, sniffing. That was something she could figure out later. This conversation — their family — took precedence now.

“I found it so hard to believe,” she whispered in shaking tones, her voice muffled by his yukata. “It always felt like…whenever things were going well, something was gonna go wrong. And maybe…I’m not ready for a family as much as I thought I was.”

Alarm pricked his ears up, the adrenaline making his heart jump in his chest. A cold, dreadful feeling washed over him, and he gazed down at the top of her head in concern. “What do you mean? You are not ready to have cubs?”

Here, she shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I really want our children! I just…thought I’d be more well-adjusted than this.”

Then, realizing from his stiff figure that she’d still been too vague, she pulled back enough to look into his eyes, her own upset receding. When he looked at her like that, with such softness and such concern tracing lines into his face, assuring him became far more important than being assured.

She continued. “I’m afraid I won’t do a good job balancing everything,” she admitted, letting her hands rest on his back. “It’s just been you and me this whole time, so when I found you here, living with Mikage and the shrine spirits like a happy family, I didn’t know what that meant. I thought, y’know, something would have to give… You couldn’t give everyone your attention, after all. So that made me worry…maybe I don’t know how to love our children and you at the same time either.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. Love does not simply vanish. Does it?”

Again, she shook her head. “I don’t know… I wouldn’t think so. I can’t imagine not ever loving you but… What if I can’t love our kids the way they deserve? What if you and I are so distracted with our jobs and everything else that we can’t be proper parents?” Here, her voice wavered. “Or we can’t be actual lovers anymore…”

At this, a huff left him, and he scoffed. That was what she worried about? To him, it seemed ludicrous, but given her experience with her father, it was clear that old wounds had been torn open. While he’d long ago moved on from those conversations, he had to remember that she hadn’t. After all, what had been five hundred years for him had been scarcely any time for her.

He ran his fingers through her hair from the root to the ends and brought a strand to his lips, kissing it, staring deeply into her eyes. “It does not matter what happens in our lives. I will love you and flirt with you every day as though it is our wedding night.” As she laughed, warmth heating her cheeks, he couldn’t help his own smile, although he attempted to maintain a serious facade. “What? It is the truth.”

“Oh, Tomoe,” she sighed, placing her hand over his, caressing it slowly. Finally, she smiled, her eyes shimmering wetly in the moonlight. He had changed, but not all of him had changed, she reminded herself. Her body relaxed, and a half laugh burst from her. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Well, I would hope you would more than not mind it,” he said, sticking his nose in the air, feigning offense with a sniff. “After all, you are stuck with me.” Here, he peered down at her, a smile twitching disobediently at the corner of his mouth. And when she giggled, he couldn’t hold back; he cracked a grin of his own, his ears relaxing. “Ah, there it is. It is good to see you smile.” He kissed her temple, stroking her hair and curling his tail around her. “There is no need to fret — about our relationship or about the cubs. I have full faith that you will be a wonderful mother and love them as you continue to love me.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, scrunching up her face.

“Because I know your heart,” he said simply. “I have seen how you are around others. You cared very much for the villagers when we lived together five hundred years ago. You wished to help the children and to tuck them under your wing. Back then, you were not so concerned about how you would continue to devote yourself to our marriage. Correct?”

“Well…yeah,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, gazing up at him almost meekly.

“Then why worry about how to have a family now? It was equally foreign to me, but I have adjusted. Perhaps it will feel strange at first, but you will adapt. You always have.” His gaze softened, half-lidded, his smile flickering over his mouth. “You are more resilient than you believe, Nanami. And I know that you will love me and our cubs with all of your heart. You will grow into it, your heart will make the room, and we will be all right.”

How he could have so much faith in her baffled her. But she couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful for it — for his patience, his kindness, his understanding. After all the grief she’d put him through, he still held her and assured her, still believed in her. And maybe he had doubted her, maybe Mikage had said that he didn’t trust her, but she could feel that ember between them strengthening, building into a small, candle-sized flame.

“Thank you, Tomoe.” She brushed delicate fingertips over his cheeks, pushing the hair back from his eyes. “I do want that very much. I want to know what it’s like…to be a part of a family. I want to be the best I can be — for you and for the cubs.”

“Then you will be,” he said simply. “When you put your mind to something, you make it happen.” Here, he smiled wryly and tugged at her cheek, the tip of his tail flicking teasingly. “It is something I find adorable about you, but also very frustrating.”

Again, she laughed. And when she breathed in, it felt easier, like she could fully inflate her lungs. “I guess I am pretty stubborn.”

“Infuriatingly so,” he agreed, chuckling.

As their soft laughter died down, she resumed studying him, her eyes following the minimal movements of his rounded pupils, taking in how the muscles in his face eased. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, scarcely even blinking, much less breaking eye contact. She absentmindedly combed her fingers through the ends of his hair, her thoughts floating away — away to that time so long ago. She transposed that image of him onto the vision before her now and found that he didn’t look quite so different after all.

“Tomoe,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet of the night. When he hummed, tilting his head, she pushed forward, the words finding themselves before her mind had even composed them, her heart hammering as her body understood what her brain didn’t quite yet grasp. “I know you said we should take more time, but I think we should do it. You know, get legally married.”

At this, his eyebrows shot up. He’d already agreed with Mikage that perhaps she needed more time, that they first needed to come to an understanding of what their relationship looked like now. However, the way she looked at him, the way she touched him, made him second guess his decision to align with Mikage’s advice. Because it was so much like the way she’d treated him back then, and her eyes said that she saw him — as he was now.

Still, he had to know for a fact that her heart was in the right place. After all, if this was due to fear, then it would do more harm than good.

Gently, he curled his fingers around her hand, his ears tilting forward. “We talked about it earlier. So what brought about this change of heart?” he asked.

Her mouth flapped open and shut. She hadn’t prepared an answer. Actually, she hadn’t even realized she was going to say such a thing. But it was out in the open, and with each beat of her heart, she felt that longing within her grow, that longing to pick up where they’d left off, to continue with their family. Partnership or not, she had at one time called him her husband. And withdrawing that felt like a step back for the two of them. Especially when she knew without a doubt that she still loved him so very much.

She slipped her fingers between his, marvelling at his strong, warm grasp. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers, but she’d find them — one way or another.

“I don’t think we should have to start over,” she said quietly. “Yeah, you’ve changed, and yeah I don’t understand everything, but… Whether we get remarried or not, we still have to work on it, don’t we?”

Slowly, he nodded. “Well, yes.”

“And we’re not going to split up either. That was never an option for even one second. We still love each other,” she added. “So…if we’re going to work on it, if we’re gonna have a family together, if we’re not holding back and we’re in love… Then it doesn’t make sense not to do it, does it?”

At this, he blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. How the tables had turned, he thought, swallowing hard. It had only been a couple of days since he’d tried to convince her that it made sense to retain their status as a married couple; he’d even told her that a piece of paper was just there for the legal benefits since nothing about their love and devotion had changed, and yet she had balked at the time. Now she tried to reason with him the same way he had tried to reason with her. He couldn’t help it; he laughed quietly, his eyes dropping to the blankets, his face flushing.

“My, my,” he mused aloud, “this sounds familiar, does it not?” If the irony was lost on her, she didn’t show it, instead smiling feebly. Since she didn’t respond, he decided to give her a more concrete answer. “Well, it is not that I disagree. In fact, I agree very much. I suppose…I only worried about how it would affect you. I thought perhaps Mikage was right — that we should wait if it was simply for security’s sake. But that does not seem to be the case. Am I right?”

“It’s not for security,” she agreed, insistent, fire burning in her eyes. “I want to have what we had before. I want to pick things up where we left off. Maybe we can’t go back to that time, but we can still have what we had back then, right?” As he lifted his eyes, she fixed her gaze on his. “I’m all in, Tomoe. And I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like I wasn’t. I can’t promise I won’t be scared — I can’t promise I won’t mess up sometimes — but I want to have the family we dreamed of. Everything I said to you back then… I still mean it. I still love you and want to be with you for as long as I live!”

His heart fluttered, his limbs going weak at her words. It was everything he’d wanted to hear so badly, it was everything he’d wanted, and yet… Despite the passion and conviction in her eyes, despite how strongly he believed her, something still nagged at him, pulling like a snag in the back of his mind. She had been so resistant to living there at the shrine, saying that she wanted them to make the decision together. Not to mention she’d admitted she’d been jealous of Mikage, that his position had threatened her. While she’d since accepted Mikage and his offer to stay, he wasn’t sure what her hopes for the future were — or if her insecurities would flare up again. 

Perhaps the matter had been settled for now, but even if she’d made the proclamation that she wanted to marry him out of a pure heart, it didn’t mean he could disregard her future comfort. His own focus had to change, and that meant putting more priority back on her, something that might be difficult for her to accept as truth when she saw him as a bound shinshi. Yet something she had told him earlier — about careers — sparked an idea within him.

“You mentioned that a normal married couple would have to manage their family and their jobs,” he said slowly. “And yet my status as a shinshi worries you. You have feared I was being taken advantage of, indebted to servitude.” He paused, staring into her eyes, but she only gazed at him in confusion, likely believing he was about to beat a dead horse again. Instead, he proposed, “What if it was more like a job? If I was compensated for my efforts, if we were able to live here or elsewhere as we saw fit, would it feel so unbearable for me to be his shinshi then?”

She blinked. This was something she hadn’t considered possible. “Do you think Mikage would go for that?” she asked. “Not that he’s unreasonable, ‘cause he doesn’t strike me as that kind of person, but it’s unusual, right?”

“Perhaps, but I think he would understand. You are my human wife, after all. And humans have financial needs, especially in this era. Besides, the cubs will have needs too.” Tomoe ran his fingers through her hair, then cupped her cheek in his palm, cradling her face. “What do you think?”

Her heartbeat quickened. He wanted to do something for the two of them, to prepare for their future, just like the old days. Although they might not have all the answers yet — about where they would live long-term or what their life looked like now — it felt like a start.

A smile spread over her face, stretching her cheeks. “Yeah, I think that sounds good,” she agreed.

“Good.” He pulled her head forward, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Now, there is one other question we must answer. Are you all right to remain here for a while? At least until we can save enough money and decide what to do?”

Now that they had a choice — and he offered her a chance to pick a home together with him — the prospect of staying didn’t sting nearly so much. She had her own space, it was peaceful here, and they had extra support. When he looked at her like this, offering her say in the direction of their life, she couldn’t help but feel silly for being so threatened before.

“Yeah, I don’t mind staying.” She nuzzled against his cheek. “Mikage’s so kind. And I like Onikiri and Kotetsu too.” Here, she blushed a little, recalling how she’d reacted to them in the beginning. Even if they didn’t know how she’d felt, it still made her ashamed for having viewed them as being in the way. Out loud, she said, “Thanks for asking. I’m glad we both have a say in it.”

“Of course.” He ran a hand over the length of her spine. “Tomorrow I will speak to Mikage about payment. I will also tell him that we have decided to renew our vows and will possibly find a place of our own, though we will stay here at the shrine for the time being.”

She straightened up, staring at him. “So you’ll do it? You don’t wanna wait to marry me?”

His gaze softened, and he shook his head. “I believe our hearts are in the right place. Mikage was simply concerned for our well-being — but he has not been a part of our relationship.” He brushed his lips to her cheekbone, his hand travelling to the back of her hair. “I do believe we should work on the foundation of our relationship, just as he said. But if we are already planning to live as a married couple, then we are only recommitting to that promise we made before.” Here, he pulled back enough to look at her. “I will admit that he was correct — I did not trust you as much as I should have. But I will choose to trust you — to trust in us — now.”

Warmth flooded her chest, and she leaned her forehead to his, placing her hand over his and fondling it. “I’ll do my best to trust in us too,” she said. “Thank you, Tomoe. I know things are still gonna be hard, ‘cause we have a long way to go, but I feel a little better now.”

“Of course.” Briefly, his eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled. A beat passed, and he nuzzled her, sighing through his nose, stroking the back of her hair. Then, he pulled back, meeting her gaze. “Are you calm enough to sleep now?”

“I think so. I can try, anyway.”

“Good.” He reclined, this time lying on his back, and extended an arm out to her. “Now come here.”

Obediently, she crawled into the space he offered and rested in his embrace, laying her head on his chest. She listened to the steady beat of his heart, breathing in his scent, letting him cradle her like he had so many nights in the past. She wrapped her arm around him and exhaled all her tension out, her eyes drooping shut.

“Love you,” she whispered.

A smile flickered over his lips at her unprompted declaration, and he squeezed her to his side, nuzzling against the crown of her head. “And I love you too.”

Her body melted into the bedding, a sigh collapsing her ribcage. All was well again. “Good night,” she murmured, a sentiment which he echoed with as much delicacy.

This time, sleep found her, drawing her beneath its depths with soft, beckoning fingers. Not all their troubles were over, but she felt more assured now. They could choose their own path. And Tomoe had chosen her, just as she’d chosen him. She just had to push her fears aside and trust that everything would work out as planned.

—

Although Tomoe had a handful of awakenings that night, he found it easy enough to fall back asleep by adjusting his position, by pulling Nanami closer whenever they’d drifted apart. He wasn’t exactly rested come the next morning, but he felt better than he had in days. Although he was still uncertain about what would come next, his last conversation with Nanami gave him hope — and a greater sense of confidence as he prepared to talk to Mikage. Knowing the kind of person Mikage was also helped, although it didn’t erase his nerves when the time came to approach him.

He didn’t get a chance to talk to Mikage until that evening, the god having holed up in the inner sanctum all day. Nanami had been particularly exhausted, likely from the dregs of illness and the emotional toll she’d accumulated, so she’d gone to bed early. Now, Tomoe spotted the front doors of the shrine slid open, Mikage sitting on the edge of the veranda, like he did on the night of the full moon. So even though the moon waned instead of waxed bright and strong, Tomoe gathered a tray with sake and two cups, and wandered out.

At the sound of Tomoe’s footsteps creaking on the boards, Mikage turned to look at him, offering his signature smile. Tomoe knelt, placing the tray between them. This elicited a glimmer of amusement in Mikage’s gaze.

“What’s this?” Mikage asked. “You only serve me sake during the full moon.”

“Yes, but I felt like today it was important to reset — and have a conversation.” Tomoe settled beside Mikage, pausing to pour his god a cup.

“Ah.” Mikage nodded, and Tomoe swore the spark that came to his eyes was one of knowing. Mikage always seemed to know what was on his mind. Without further questioning of this uncharacteristic ritual, Mikage accepted the cup offered to him, though he waited for Tomoe to settle in with his own cup before he took the first sip.

As silence stretched between them, Tomoe realized that Mikage wouldn’t be the one to broach the topic first. Not even in prompting him or asking what was on his mind. Of course he would fork the responsibility on him, Tomoe thought with a sigh, bringing the rim of the cup to his lips. That was just how Mikage was, taking free will to the extreme. Sometimes, he swore Mikage avoided his problems, preferring to smile, to assure, to sweep it under the rug.

After a moment, during which Mikage only stared up at the sky, balancing his sake cup in his hand, Tomoe cleared his throat. “I would like to talk to you about my future with Nanami,” he said.

To this, Mikage nodded, as though he had expected it, but he didn’t say anything other than to hum. Again, the responsibility to continue the conversation rested on Tomoe. And perhaps that was Mikage’s intention — to force him to say it, to force him to make his choice on his own without any sort of influence.

So Tomoe continued. “We appreciate your advice and you looking out for us,” he said, injecting conviction in his tone. “And while we agree we ought to work on our trust and the foundation of our marriage, it is not like this is unusual for us.” 

His thoughts drifted to five hundred years ago, to the argument they’d had in the grove of cherry trees, back when she’d told him how afraid she was to relinquish control. Even back then, she’d wrangled with her trust in him and her fear of his abandonment, and though they’d never completely solved it, they’d eventually come to a consensus. The same thing had to happen now, he thought, because she would be struggling with it for her entire life, forever weighed down by her past.

“Nanami has expressed fear and distrust more than once in our relationship,” he added, lightly swirling his sake around his cup. “It is not something that is going to go away. But she has told me that she will try to trust me and that she would like to work on our partnership. We have both decided to remain together and choose each other.”

At this, Mikage nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. “That’s good,” he agreed. “Long-term relationships aren’t easy; consciously choosing each other again and again is important.”

And he still failed to offer his own opinion, instead parroting the same vapid words back at him, Tomoe thought, slack-jawed. But what had he really expected? Clearly, Mikage tread with caution. 

“When we spoke,” Tomoe continued, his gaze ever fixed to Mikage’s unchanging expression for an indication of how he felt, “we came to an understanding — that our relationship would not change, whether we had a marriage certificate or not.” His tail dusted over the boards of the veranda, his heart rate increasing. He tightened his hold on his sake cup. “Because we will continue to face this issue, because this is nothing new to us and we still love each other just the same, we have decided to renew our marriage.”

A hum vibrated in Mikage’s throat, the sound neutral, neither approving or disapproving. “I see. So you’re on the same page now.”

“Yes.” The fur at the base of Tomoe’s ears bristled, tension clenching in his chest the longer Mikage put off any sort of reaction. This was ludicrous, Tomoe thought, exhaling impatiently through his nose. He probed for a response. “Well, are you not going to say anything about your advice?”

Finally, Mikage turned to look at him straight on, his expression more serious. “Tomoe, it was a suggestion,” he said. “I never told you that you had to follow it. Besides, you don’t need my permission to build your relationship the way you see fit.”

Tomoe’s cheeks flamed, his ears flicking down and sideways as he realized how much stock he’d placed in Mikage’s opinion. It felt like coming to a father, demanding that he would do something no matter what he thought, all while seeking approval. Perhaps he was anxious about the contract too, he thought with a humorless half laugh, bringing a hand over his eye.

“Yes, of course,” Tomoe murmured.

“You know Nanami and your relationship better than anyone,” Mikage continued. “If you feel like this is what’s best for the both of you, then you have to follow your heart. I only said something because I was involved.”

“Naturally,” Tomoe mumbled, turning his gaze to the side.

A long moment elapsed, during which Mikage turned back towards the moon, sipping his sake. And though he didn’t say it, Tomoe knew from centuries of residing with him that he waited for him to continue. Mikage knew the conversation wasn’t over.

“I have a request—” Tomoe began, then frowned. No, request was too soft; it opened the door for negotiation. He had to break that habit if they were all to move forward, to reform the submissive role he’d adopted over the years. Carefully, he amended, “Ah, that was not the word I was looking for. What I meant is — I have a set of conditions.”

“And what’s that?” Mikage asked, for once encouraging him to continue.

“Nanami is a human, and humans require money to survive,” Tomoe said. Somehow, it was easier to be blunt than he’d imagined it would be. Perhaps Mikage’s compliance and mellow demeanor eased him into that sense of safety. “While our cubs will be yokai, I am certain that she will want them to experience the human world as well, to go to school with the other children. That will require us to be able to provide for them, and there is no guarantee that she will be able to find a well paying job right away.”

“I see,” Mikage said, nodding sagely. “That is true.”

“So for as long as I work at the shrine, I will require payment for my services,” Tomoe said, tone clipped, posture firm and solid. He held his breath, waiting for Mikage to bargain with him.

Without missing a beat, without so much as blinking, Mikage replied, “I think that’s reasonable.”

Momentarily, Tomoe froze. It had been that easy? Although he hadn’t expected Mikage to scoff at him or to outright turn him down, he had expected more of a conversation than that. He stared at Mikage, open-mouthed, and briefly he wondered if he should’ve been asking for payment this whole time. What a fool he could be, he berated himself.

Realizing he gaped, that he showed insecurity, Tomoe snapped his mouth shut. He inhaled and composed himself. “Then…let us come to a consensus on my salary.”

“Do you have a number in mind?” Mikage prompted, to which Tomoe balked.

He should’ve known it would go like this, he thought. And yet he’d been sorely prepared. His tail thumped against the floorboards. “I will need to do some research,” he said, and the hint of a smile at the corners of Mikage’s mouth wasn’t lost on him. “I shall approach you when I have my answer.”

“All right. Let me know what you think is fair.” Mikage sipped from his cup. “You said there were other conditions too?”

“Yes.” Tomoe cleared his throat, composing himself. “The time may come for Nanami and I to find a place of our own. After all, we will be having a family. And if we move out, I will not be available around the clock like I have been.”

Before Tomoe could scrape for more of an argument in his favor, Mikage nodded along with his words. “That will be no trouble. You get your work done during the day anyway.”

Again, Tomoe gawked. This time, his ears actually swivelled backwards before he caught himself. “And this will not be a problem for you or the gods?”

“No, I don’t see it being any trouble. Don’t worry about that, all right?” Mikage’s eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled gently. “Do whatever you need to do. You and Nanami are both welcome here as long as you’d like, but I understand. I won’t be in your way.”

Tomoe’s shoulders sagged under the weight of this temporary relief. He doubted it would be so simple for Mikage to reason with the other gods for even this much of a release, but the other had never led him astray, had never let him down. Just like he’d choose to trust Nanami, he’d choose to trust Mikage too. “Thank you. We will stay here for now. I will tell you if I anticipate that changing.”

Another pause, and while Mikage seemed content to drink in silence, Tomoe still felt a little off kilter. After all, just because Mikage had agreed with him didn’t mean all had been solved. He still had no means of legally marrying Nanami, because as far as the government was concerned, he didn’t exist. He’d still need Mikage’s help.  

As he contemplated this, Tomoe drained the rest of his cup, but when he reached for the bottle to refill it, Mikage’s hand fluttered to intercept his. With a smile, Mikage topped Tomoe’s cup off.

“You have something else on your mind,” Mikage said, tone gentle, unassuming.

A long sigh escaped Tomoe. “You are as perceptive as always,” he muttered. Then, speaking with more clarity, he said, “I would like the proper documents to marry Nanami. I have no ID. I have no way to file. In fact, I am not even sure where to begin.”

“It’s no trouble,” Mikage assured him, waving it off. “I’ll be happy to prepare them for you. I can start looking into it tomorrow.”

Another wave of relief flooded over Tomoe, and he relaxed. “Thank you.”

To this, Mikage only smiled and took the last sip from his cup. Tomoe reached to refill it, but Mikage shook his head and slowly rose to his feet. “It’s getting late,” Mikage said, tucking his hands into his opposite sleeves. “I think I’ll go to bed. You should do the same.”

Recognition sparked inside of Tomoe, and he sat up straighter. He should go to Nanami now, he thought. Maybe Mikage didn’t say it in so many words, but it was there — him letting go, him releasing Tomoe of this obligation to serve him and keep him company. Something had shifted between them, something that Tomoe had started on his own, and Mikage had accepted without a word, in that way he always did whenever he wanted to withdraw his influence. A smile scrawled over Tomoe’s face, and he nodded.

“I will finish my sake and then retire,” he agreed.

“All right.” Mikage lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, then turned to go inside. “Well, good night, Tomoe.”

For a few moments longer, Tomoe sat there on the veranda, craning his neck to watch Mikage retreat into the shadows of the shrine. Then, he faced forward and gazed up at the sky. A new moon was coming, he thought, drinking from his cup. New beginnings awaited them. And he, too, would be reborn, forging a life of their choosing with Nanami.

Come this time next month, he was certain that things would be different. Better. After all, the worst was behind them.

Chapter Text

Come the following morning, Tomoe rose early to start his tasks for the day. Since Nanami had been under the weather, he let her sleep in while he cleaned the kitchen and prepared for breakfast, his thoughts on the conversation he’d had with Mikage the night before. While he hadn’t properly researched a salary for himself, they could still make progress on procuring documentation for his and Nanami’s remarriage. And, with Mikage nowhere in sight for several hours, he hoped that it meant good news was coming.

Sure enough, just after Nanami had gotten up and Tomoe had served her a breakfast of porridge, Mikage had entered, a smile playing on his lips. In his right hand, he held a manila folder, his hat in his left hand. He hung his hat up, then crossed the kitchen and extended the folder to Tomoe. Tomoe flicked his glance from Mikage’s face to the folder. Could it be? With a dry mouth, he accepted it and flipped it open to find the signed documentation he needed to file a marriage certificate.

“It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be,” Mikage mused aloud as Tomoe gaped at the documents he held. “You’re all set. You and Nanami-san just have to go down to the office and file whenever you’re ready.”

A lump came to Tomoe’s throat, and he turned his gaze up to Mikage. He’d kept his promise. Not only that, he’d taken care of it first thing in the morning. To know that he and Nanami meant this much to Mikage erased any doubts he might’ve had the night before.

“Thank you,” he said, clutching the papers.

“You’re most welcome.” Here, Mikage turned his attention to Nanami, who watched with curiosity. “Good morning, Nanami-san. How are you feeling today?”

Nanami paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Good morning,” she greeted in return, offering a smile. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” Here, she glanced at the folder. “What’s that?”

“Oh, that’s the documentation you and Tomoe will need to file your marriage,” Mikage said with a warm smile. “Last night, he asked me to get it for him.” A laugh escaped him, and he waved his hand. “But don’t feel pressured to go right away. Take your time. It’ll be there whenever you feel up to it.”

Although he could’ve meant waiting as he’d originally advised them, the fact that he’d brought it for them said that he supported them, at least. “Oh, thank you so much! I’m actually feeling up to going out today, so maybe if I can get my IDs figured out, then we can get a marriage certificate too. Since I’ll be at the government office anyway.” Here, she hummed. “I need to go either way. I can’t really get a job without renewing my IDs or getting copies of my degree.”

As she finished speaking, she sighed, touching the tip of the spoon to her lips. That was easier said than done, she thought glumly. Since she’d been gone so long, her things thrown out whenever she’d been evicted, she’d have to scale mountains to prove she was who she said she was. She’d just have to do her best.

“Well, then,” Mikage said, interrupting her thoughts, “I hope you have a wonderful outing. You and Tomoe should spend the day together. Especially if you’re planning on getting remarried today.”

“Yeah…” She slipped the spoon into her mouth to take a bite, although she’d lost the stomach for food.

“I’ll leave you two to work out the details,” Mikage continued. “If you need anything else, I’ll be in my study.” 

With that, Mikage bowed his head and excused himself, leaving the two of them alone. Nanami only bent her head, brows knitting together, staring into her bowl of porridge. In her peripheral vision, she spotted movement as Tomoe’s footsteps came nearer. Then, he plopped down beside her, setting the folder in the middle of the table.

Having known Nanami for as long as he had, Tomoe could sense her shift of mood. She slumped, barely picking at her porridge now, her eyes foggy and far away. Had she changed her mind about what they’d discussed the night before? Concerned, ears pricking up, he laid a hand on her arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Blinking, she lifted her head. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She offered a wan smile, one that didn’t meet her eyes.

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

She stirred her porridge, staring down at it sadly, her thoughts drifting to her IDs. Never mind that Mikage could help her with that the same way he’d helped them with the marriage documentation; it was the principle of the matter. This had been one last thing that she’d managed to hold onto, that she’d managed to take from modern times into the past, a reminder of who she’d used to be and how far she’d come. 

Her heart ached for everything she’d lost. Again. It was the third time she’d lost all of her personal belongings, and though material items shouldn’t matter, especially when she and Tomoe were all right and had what they needed, it still hurt. She’d already had so little to her name.

“I guess…I just wish I didn’t have to start over from scratch,” she said softly, toying with her spoon. A humorless half laugh left her, her gaze misty. “I could ask for Mikage’s help to get new IDs but…I wish this was one thing I could do on my own. Just to feel like…I still exist.”

He tilted his head, brow creasing deeper. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not easy to get new IDs when you don’t have any old ones,” she explained. “So we’d need Mikage’s help, right?” She drew in a noisy breath. “I just wish I could handle it on my own, but I don’t have any of my stuff anymore. It’s kinda sad… I guess I’m just being nostalgic.”

As a wistful smile spread over her face, it clicked what she referred to, and he sat up straighter. “That is not true,” he said. “There is no need to worry about your IDs, because you have not lost them.”

As soon as he’d said this, he flushed and lowered his head. After he and Mikage had sealed the familiar contract, Tomoe had gone back to retrieve Nanami’s things. It had been unbearable to have been separated from her, and he needed to take a piece of her back with him. He’d needed something corporeal, something he could hold onto, a token of her essence and a reminder that she truly had existed in this world. Even the possibility that he’d meet her again hadn’t been enough. So he’d slept with her kimono until her scent had been replaced by his own. Only then had he tucked it away into a chest, because he couldn’t bear to look at it anymore when he couldn’t smell her on the fabric. It had no longer been hers, but his.

“I kept your things,” he admitted, his gaze softening, something sad tracing his words. He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “That includes your bag — and your IDs.”

Her eyes widened and she immediately shot up, standing. “Oh, my god!” A small squeal left her. As he rose as well, something alarmed on his brow, ears standing high, she grabbed his face. Before he could do anything other than stare at her, his eyes huge and his pupils contracted, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him hard. He didn’t have time to return it before she pulled away with a smacking sound. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”

Her eyes stung, tears welling up in them, and a tiny sob caught in her throat. His hands fell to her elbows, but she didn’t let him speak, instead yanking his head down and kissing him again and again. She barely gave him a chance to reciprocate, mashing their lips together before parting over and over, until he finally laughed breathlessly and turned his head. This time, she nailed his cheek. 

“What is all this for?” he asked, unable to suppress the grin that stretched his mouth.

A tiny wail escaped her and she dropped her hands to clutch his kimono in tight fists. “You kept my stuff! I’ve lost everything three times. It means so much to me that you took it with you, that I can have something of my old life back.” A few tears slipped down her cheeks. “I can get new IDs without a problem. As long as the ones I have are in good shape…” 

Here, she hesitated. It had been five hundred years. Suddenly, her stomach sank, and she started to release his kimono. Who knew what happened to photos after that long; as far as she knew, they degraded after a few decades.

“They are just like new,” he assured her. “I have preserved them with my yokai powers.” His ears lowered sideways, and he stroked her hair. “I wanted to be sure you would have them, if we ever met again.” 

With a sad smile, he brought a strand of her hair up to his mouth and kissed it. What he didn’t tell her was how he’d gazed at the photos on her IDs every day, because it was all he had to remember her by. It had been a cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

All the possibilities flooded over Nanami, overwhelming her, and she let out a small wail again. Ignoring his wide eyes, she melted against him, letting him hold her. “Oh, god, all the things I’ve missed…” She sniffed. “I can go out! I can go grocery shopping… Oh, my god, I can even get a haircut.”

A small huff left him. “What? But I like your hair,” he complained, running his fingers through it. “It is beautiful.”

With a pout, she said, “I’m not gonna cut it all off. Just get the ends cleaned up and shaped.” Here, she ran her fingers through the shorter strands of his hair. “Besides, you cut all your hair off.”

His face burned and he chuckled. “I suppose you are right. It grew bothersome to tend to my duties with long hair.” He averted his gaze, still blushing. “Did you prefer it long?”

Beaming, she patted his cheek, then left her hand there, absorbing the heat from his face with her palm. “I like it both ways. You’re still very handsome.” 

Standing on her toes, she kissed his jaw, right at his throat. The resulting shiver wasn’t lost on her. Poor Tomoe, she thought, recalling how pent up he’d been without sex for even a month and a half. She could only imagine how he must feel now if a simple touch affected him so.

“I wouldn’t tell you what to do with your hair,” she added. “It’s your hair.”

He nodded, a wry smile twisting his mouth. “All right. If you say so.” Bringing her head forward, hand at the back of her hair, he kissed her forehead. “I would grow it out for you if you wanted.”

“Don’t do anything for me! Do it for yourself,” she griped. Then, regaining her giddiness, she wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “Anyway, can I have my stuff back? We can go out afterward.”

“Very well. Wait one moment.” He kissed her forehead, then released her, disappearing into the back and down the basement hatch.

She watched him, curious, but waited all the same. It didn’t take him long to emerge, and he carried her bag with him. Suddenly, it felt like no time had passed at all. This tie into her past, into their journey together, seized something deep inside of her. Her eyes stung.

Fresh tears welled up and she dashed to him before he could take another step. He held her bag out, and she snatched it, then held it to her chest, her face crumpling, her eyes falling shut. A hiccup hitched in her throat. It was still here; it was real, she thought, clutching the bag close. While Tomoe had changed, while the shrine had changed, her bag looked just like it had when she’d last seen it. It was proof that everything had happened as she remembered it — and that not everything had changed.

After a moment of hugging her bag, she finally dared to open it, risking to break the spell that not all was lost. She peeked inside. There was her wallet. She pulled it out, chin quivering, and unzipped it with trembling hands to find everything that she’d taken with her to the World Over Yonder. Her IDs, the money that had been worthless in their world but worth something in the present, and a few old receipts. She shuffled through them to get a better look at the laminated card at the bottom of the stack.

Bringing her hand up to her mouth, she stifled a whimper. For a long moment, she gazed at her own picture, at the girl smiling back, at the girl who’d believed she had a bright future ahead of her, the girl who’d had no idea that in a short time she’d serve as a prostitute in the World Over Yonder of five hundred years ago. In those days prior to her fall through the veil, she’d held hope of a mundane life, the kind that regular people took for granted. The kind they even complained about. She would’ve given anything to be like one of them. That was, until she’d met Tomoe and made her escape.

At that moment, she realized — she wouldn’t change that chain of events for anything. Because it had brought her to Tomoe in a twist of fate, and it had given her the babies she carried in her womb now. She’d faced tribulations that few had faced before, and yet if that balance of karma could break the curse of her family line, could give her the happiness and security that her mother and her grandmother hadn’t had, then she could be grateful.

Zipping her wallet, she replaced it in her bag and rifled around again. It was a mess, but each item held memories. Her half broken pocket umbrella. A snapped keychain. Her phone charger. And then her fingertips brushed against the slim, cool material of a rectangular object. A shriek caught in her throat, and out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Tomoe wincing, his ears lowering. She was too excited to apologize, withdrawing her smartphone.

“Oh, my god!” She clung to it. “It’s still here!” A small sob caught in her throat. She hoped it still worked. Immediately, she rushed to the nearest outlet and plugged in her charger, and then connected it to the phone. With bated breath, she stared at the dark screen and, after a moment, it beeped, the battery icon appearing. “It works!” Stifling a scream of delight, she clutched her phone for a moment longer before setting it down to finish charging.

A chuckle caught in Tomoe’s throat, his gaze adoring, as she flitted back to her bag. To see her so happy, her face lighting up in unbridled joy, filled his chest with something swelling and light. If a few items could make her this happy, he was glad to give them to her. “I assume this all makes your life easier. I figured it would.”

“Yes! My whole life before I met you is in that phone!” She grinned, then rifled through her bag once more.

This time, she found something wrapped in a cloth, and she frowned. She didn’t remember anything in a cloth. Slowly, she pulled it out and unwound the cloth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tomoe’s eyes light up, and he straightened. Once she’d finished unwrapping it, she gasped sharply, holding it up. The hair stick. The same one he’d given her when they’d gone to the night market on their first date, when he’d shown his favor for her. 

That’d been the night that they’d acknowledged their bond, she thought, clasping both hands around it. That night had given her a taste of freedom, rejuvenating her hope; it had served as the beginning of the next chapter in her life and the shift that was to come. It seemed fitting now that it’d reappear, that he’d give it to her once more. And she knew then that she was ready to move forward and marry him anew.

Whimpering, she hugged the hair stick to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, hands shaking. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.” Stepping forward, he ran his fingers through her hair. “Would you like me to put your hair up for you?”

At this, she giggled, eyes glittering. It was just like the first time he’d pinned her hair up with it. She passed him the hair stick. “I’d like that.”

The fact that she accepted brought a smile to his face, relief flooding over him. And when their eyes locked, he realized she knew what it meant to him — and she’d opened her heart like she had the night he’d given it to her. He took a moment to arrange her hair, gingerly combing his fingers through it to rid of any tangles. Once he’d finished, he pushed the hair stick in and then stepped back, eyes shining.

“You are beautiful.” He touched delicate fingertips to her blushing cheek, and his smile widened as she turned her head, eyelashes dusting her cheekbones, her lips grazing his palm.

As his arms wrapped around her, his hold loving and comforting, she melted. She stepped forward and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Nuzzling his chest, she murmured, “Thanks, Tomoe. I’m so happy.”

It wasn’t just because he’d given her those things back, he thought, tightening his embrace around her, burying his mouth and nose in the top of her hair. It was what it represented. This was a piece of her history — of their history — and just having something tangible brought their past flooding back. He knew then that she recognized what she meant to him.

“I am very happy too,” he murmured. “I am looking forward to renewing our vows.” Here, one of his hands drifted down to the small of her back before travelling to her belly. The warm energy of their cubs graced his fingertips, and he smiled, his eyelids fluttering shut. “I am also looking forward to being together with our family.”

Her hand fluttered to her stomach as well, lightly touching the area where she imagined their children were. She tucked her head under Tomoe’s chin, smiling and nuzzling him again. “I am too. I’ve never had a family before.”

Even knowing this already, his heart ached. He squeezed her tightly. “I have not either. It will be wonderful.”

“You’re really sweet.” She kissed his collarbone. Then, pulling back, she stared into his eyes, her forearms folded against his chest, her hands at his shoulders. “I feel a lot better about our future now.”

“Me too.”

After a brief pause, the two of them looking at each other, she gently pulled away. “Let’s get ready and go out, okay? We have some important things to take care of, don’t we?”

“Indeed. I am very much so looking forward to it.” 

He tilted his head, smiling again, and then met her lips for a kiss. She only held it for a beat, but she poured her fervor into it, warming him from head to toe with her affection. Then they parted, and she blushed like she had when she’d first fallen in love with him, and he felt his heart soar, reborn all over again. 

With a soft laugh, she kissed the tip of his nose and pulled back. Her hands lingered over his arms even as she stepped away. “I won’t be long,” she promised.

To this, he only returned her smile, his fingers gliding through hers as she touched him one more time. He’d never seen her so happy. Not even when they’d been together in the past. And that gave him hope that this was the brighter and freer future that they’d deserved. Their hardships were over. And he swore he’d continue to make her this happy from now on.

—

Although Tomoe disguised himself when they went out, hiding his ears and tail, there was something so freeing about being able to go out in public with him. It felt strange, in a sense, because he’d been so reluctant to head into the village when they’d last lived together, and yet now he stepped out without a second thought. She realized that he’d left the shrine to run errands over the last several days too, much more frequently than he would’ve back at their old house. She pondered over this as they walked down the sidewalk in downtown Kawagoe, arm in arm, headed to a hair salon so she could freshen up for their appointment at the government office.

She might not have had the money for a proper dress to get married in, but all she wanted was the luxury of a ¥1,000 cut, just a small treat to herself. It had been over four years since she’d had such a thing. Even if she only had the dead ends cut off and her hair reshaped — including her bangs and the hair framing her face — it made her feel like she’d been reborn, refreshed and ready for her new life in this era. In fact, she even looked similar to the girl she’d been before this whole debacle, she thought as she turned her head this way and that in the mirror. The very thought brought tears to her eyes, and she couldn’t help but grin so widely it hurt. All was well again. And she was on her way to reclaiming her identity.

After that, Tomoe helped her rearrange her hair with the hair stick, and then the two of them headed to the government office. When she handed the forms and her expired ID to the clerk, she found her hands shaking a little. But he didn’t say anything about it, only processing the paperwork, snapping a new headshot, and printing out a new laminated card for her. She took it, her head buzzing with static fuzz, feeling like she’d just been granted a new lease on life.

“Are you ready?” Tomoe’s voice called quietly in her ear, and she started, blinking from her daze.

Turning to look at him, she offered a smile, one that grew in luminosity and confidence. She wasn’t just ready to start over; she was ready to start over with him. “Yeah,” she said, almost dreamily.

That look on her face — he’d never seen her look at him like that before, he thought. But it was beautiful, and it suited her; it suited her far more than all the anguish and fear and doubt, her long dampened spirits rising like the tender tendrils of seedlings curling towards the sun. Despite the fact that they were in public, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to her temple. But she didn’t protest, only beamed with something like pride.

Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he passed the folder to the clerk. He and Nanami watched silently as the clerk flipped through the folder’s contents, Tomoe with his arm around her and one hand at her shoulder, Nanami with her fingers lightly touching his. They’d been separated for too long; social conventions could be damned. He never wanted to let her go again.

Perhaps the clerk didn’t even think twice about it anyway, since from his point of view they were no more than young newlyweds; he couldn’t have known what they had gone through to get here. To this almost nameless employee, it was nothing but a few signatures, a few stamps, a few scans to go into the computer system. But to Tomoe and Nanami? This was everything.

Just like that, the clerk handed them their copy of the marriage certificate. In a matter of minutes, they’d been legally married. But their true marriage? It had blossomed over years, a culmination of all their trust and hardships and conscious effort. Nanami knew it would only grow stronger from here on.

“Thank you for coming,” the clerk said, interrupting her train of thought. “Have a wonderful rest of your day.”

At this, Nanami came back to the present long enough to absorb what he’d said, to smile and murmur a word of parting as well. Then, the clerk turned back to his computer monitor, not giving them a second glance as they walked out. No suspicion, no passive aggressiveness, no hesitation. They were just two more people filtering in and out of the office, two more clients, two more citizens of Kawagoe.

In fact, no one batted an eyelash at them, she realized as she stepped onto the sidewalk, looking one way and then the other. And Tomoe paid the people around them no mind either. In fact, he flowed with the crowd seamlessly, fitting in like he’d always been a part of their society, his shoulders relaxed, perfectly at ease. 

It was because no one was after them anymore, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. According to what he’d told her when he’d filled her in over the last five hundred years, Akura was no longer a threat. Neither were any of the gods. They didn’t have to run; they didn’t have to hide. For the first time, they could move about without worry, without looking over their shoulders or second guessing themselves. And that assurance in their safety had her feeling like she could breathe, like she could live her life without limits.

The familiar contract hadn’t constrained them; being fugitives had. Whether Mikage and Tomoe broke the contract or not, it didn’t matter. Because their lives were no longer in danger.

At last, she and Tomoe were finally free.

As it sank in, she clung a little faster to Tomoe’s hand, pressing to his side. The startling realization yielded to relief, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud, her cheeks warm. No one cared who they were; they could just be, she thought, her cheeks aching from her smile. And whenever they came across any glass storefront, she couldn’t help but stare at their reflection, finding it more difficult to pick themselves out of the crowd the farther into the historical section they went.

She’d never felt like she belonged in the world. But now? Perhaps fate had carved that space out for her and Tomoe after all. Perhaps they both belonged now. This was their home — and it’d been waiting for her, right under her nose, all along.

Tomoe watched her, noticing the way she kept looking around, taking it all in. It made his heart flutter to see her like this, to see her standing taller instead of making herself smaller, instead of closing in on herself in shame. He loved to see this side of her. Even if she’d gotten better in the year and a half they’d been married, he’d never seen her like this. He decided to voice this.

“You have never been so happy,” he said quietly, letting her swing their clasped hands. “I am so glad to see you smile again.”

“I’ve never been this happy,” she admitted, beaming at him. “I mean, I was happy when we were first married back then, but we weren’t free. Now we’re free!” A laugh escaped her, and she felt like twirling around a lamp post like she was in some damn movie. “We can go out, Tomoe. No one will bother us, and we don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

A grin spread over his mouth and he couldn’t help but chuckle, squeezing her hand. “Ah, yes, that is true.”

He bit back the words that he’d felt this sort of freedom for five hundred years now — albeit he’d never been so light before. Now that she was here, holding his hand and proclaiming their freedom, he felt whole again, the hollow in his chest filled with the light she exuded.

“I have never been so happy either,” he agreed, lacing his fingers with hers. “It will be much easier now, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, clinging to his hand. “I mean, no one believes in yokai anymore. And you’re not on the run, since the gods aren’t after you. Akura isn’t around anymore either. We can live our lives, and the whole world is ahead of us!” Her wide eyes captured his. “Isn’t it?”

Another chuckle left him; her enthusiasm was contagious. And he found himself feeling just as giddy as she looked. “You are correct. We do not have to worry. In this era, we can raise our cubs in peace.”

A passerby overheard this statement and shot them a weird look. It didn’t escape either of their notice and, after a quick glance back, they looked at each other. Briefly, alarm flared within Nanami, that practiced voice in her head reminding her that she shouldn’t be so casual or let the facade slip. The man only continued on his way, however; it dawned on her what he must’ve thought, that it was some version of pet play or even a fetish. All at once, the tension popped, and they each exchanged another glance before bursting into laughter.

“That guy probably thinks we’re so weird,” she giggled.

“Let him think whatever he likes.” Tomoe paused at a crosswalk, shutting his eyes. “It is of no consequence to me.”

As the light changed, she pulled his hand and they crossed the street. A sudden whim struck her, and she looked up at him, eyes dancing. “Let’s get some lunch. Is that okay?” When he nodded, she hummed and glanced around, trying to remember what restaurants were nearby. There were so many foods she’d missed, and she had no idea what she even wanted now that she had the choice. “Okay, help me pick.”

“All right,” he agreed. “But I will warn you — I have only cooked at home. I have not eaten out in some time.”

“That’s fine. Just tell me what sounds good, okay?” Once more, he nodded, so she continued. “We could get something traditional, like ramen. Or we could do fast food — I haven’t had a hamburger in a hot minute.”

The very thought had her mouth watering, although she knew it wouldn’t taste the same as it had the last time she’d ordered it. Since returning to the present, she’d mostly been eating what Tomoe had prepared, which had all been fresh meats and fruits and vegetables. Not to mention eating a hamburger after picking up their marriage certificate didn’t exactly fit the mood the day had set.

Tapping her chin, she said, “Or we could try this French cafe and bakery I heard of, if they’re still around. That would be cute.” She peeked up at him. “What do you think?”

He mulled over the choices. Although he’d never had the two latter options she’d mentioned, her eyes had lit up more at those possibilities. Ramen would’ve been his first choice, but he wanted her to experience what she’d missed out on those four years. Besides, who knew, he might like it.

Before he could suggest it, she rummaged around in her bag and pulled out her wallet, an oh escaping her. He knew what she was doing. A frown lit on his brow as she unzipped her wallet and counted her money. Putting a hand over hers, he lowered it. “Save your money, my love. Let me treat you. Pick where you want to eat.” He tilted his head, adoration softening his expression. “After all, you have just come back. You have missed this.”

Her face grew hot. She didn’t want to give in too easily, but the look on his face was so earnest… And he wasn’t wrong. It might be some time before she earned any more money, and while she didn’t mind eating at home, it would be nice to go out. Still, she hesitated. “I don’t know…”

He didn’t give her a chance to continue that line of thought. “Consider it a celebration. For your safe return, for the good news of your pregnancy, for our marriage. Will you allow me to treat you now?”

When he put it that way, she couldn’t deny him. “Yeah, okay.” Her voice was airy, almost far away. She smiled up at him, briefly closing her eyes. “Do you want to try the French place? It’s not that expensive, I promise.”

The price wouldn’t have bothered him anyway, but knowing how she was with money, he accepted it. After all, it’d been on her list to begin with, and she seemed so excited about it. “Very well. It sounds charming.”

“Thank you!” Giddy, she tugged at his arm, all but pulling him down the street. “I think you’ll like it. I can’t wait for you to try it!”

Unable to help it, a laugh left him — a genuine, actual laugh. If it made her happy, he’d do anything. That was all that mattered to him.

In no time, she’d dragged him down a few streets until they came upon the cafe. An awning stretched over a small patio that was outside, shielding the occupants from the sun. It was too nice of a day to sit inside. Not to mention she’d been cooped up for days.  

She asked, “Can we sit on the patio? Please?”

“You did not have to beg,” he teased. “I would also like that.”

“Good, then let’s get some food.” She made a beeline for the door. 

“And why are we going inside? I thought we were sitting outside,” he said, nodding towards the patio, where waitstaff tended to the tables, bringing all manner of strange yet delicious dishes out.

“I thought we could get some things from the bakery. Since, you know, we’re celebrating so much.”

In response, he reached over her head and pushed the door open for her. “All right. If you will — order for me. I do not know what is good.”

With that permission, she tossed him a grin, then stepped inside and got in line. For the few minutes they waited, she stared at all the items and glass cases in awe, her eyes huge. She’d forgotten what having choices felt like. Usually, there was only one choice — or up to three, if one was lucky. If Tomoe hadn’t been paying, she might’ve gone crazy, but she stuck with two mini cakes for the both of them, only conferring with Tomoe to be sure he was all right with the flavor she chose. Since it was his first time eating something like this, she stuck to a vanilla and green tea combination for him, and then chose a strawberry and cream flavor for herself. When it came time to order, she put in for a sandwich they could split as well as soup.

Once they’d gotten their cakes and tea, they went outside to wait for the rest of their food to be ready. Unable to stand it, she dipped a finger in the whipped cream of her cake and stuck it in her mouth, eliciting a raised eyebrow from him. “Don’t look at me like that!” she complained. “I haven’t had this in forever!”

“Clearly,” he said with a grin, then leaned his chin in his palm, watching her cheat and pinch a small piece of strawberry off the top of the cake. “Now, are you really going to eat dessert first?”

She glowered at him. “Shut up, I’m pregnant.”

Chuckling, he watched her with an endearing gaze. “I cannot argue with that.”

“We should try a bite of each other’s cake. Just in case you like it.”

“Hm, or perhaps you just want more cake.” He shook his head, grinning slyly. “If you want anything else, do not hesitate. Like you have said — you are pregnant. You are eating for three.”

“Right, we’re having twins.” She sucked on her forefinger again, ignoring a disdainful glance from one of the other patrons. Who cared about manners anymore? She was just so happy to be with Tomoe again — and that they could go out for something so simple.

One of the employees brought their food to the table then, and she grinned, offering her thanks. Tomoe watched her break the sandwich apart and place half of it on the extra plate before sliding it to him. “You could have ordered two,” he muttered. “You will be hungry.”

Instead of replying, she bit into her sandwich, stifling the moan of pleasure at it. Forget the artificial flavors, she thought. The bread was so flaky and sweet and just the way she remembered. “Oh, my god, this is better than sex.”

Once again, he burst a laugh. “Your manners have slipped atrociously.” 

This earned him a glare, but then she resumed eating, humming a moan again. Despite his comment, he wasn’t ashamed to be with her. Other people could think whatever they wanted. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. Considering her usual brash speech and mannerisms regarding the subject, he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

“You cannot really mean it is better than sex,” he said between bites. “If you do, I will be quite insulted.” He stuck his nose in the air, sniffing once in mock offense.

She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t be offended! It’s just a saying.”

“Mhm, sure.” He opened one eye, a smirk flickering at the corner of his mouth.

It was like no time had passed at all, she thought, giggling at the way he looked at her. Here they were, playful like they’d been five hundred years ago. Just days before, she’d been so worried about how much he’d changed, yet the man before her now was very much the same man she’d known back then. Time hadn’t left him untouched, but it hadn’t erased him past recognition either.

And now… She found herself eager to pick up where they’d left off. And that meant picking up everywhere that they’d left off.

Turning her attention back to the conversation, she began, “Speaking of…”

“Are you really going to bring that up now?” His eyes half lidded.

Another glare. “Yeah! I don’t care. You know I talk about this all the time.”

He shook his head. “Yes, yes, of course.” Pausing, he took a sip of tea. “Not that I mind, but I thought perhaps you would, since we are in public.”

“No, and you know why.” This earned a small half hum, half growl from him, his brow furrowing. Instead of acknowledging it, she spooned her soup and continued. “Can I please do something for you when we get home?”

This was to be expected, he thought, watching her slurp her soup. After all, she had mentioned it a few days ago. “If you would like, but we can wait. I will not die without it.”

“I know you won’t, but I still wanna do it for you. Because I love you to death, and I know it’s been a long time for you.” Her gaze softened, a warm smile spreading over her face. “I know you said you’d like us to please each other, but I’d be really happy if you’d let me do it for you. I know how you are, and I know it wasn’t easy for you to be abstinent.”

“Quite the contrary,” he muttered, lifting his tea but gazing into the surface of it, at his wavering reflection. He frowned at the absence of his ears. “I did not want to be with anyone if I could not be with you.”

Her face flushed, heart fluttering. “See, this is why yokai are the best. You don’t cheat when you’re in love.”

“We are incapable. We only love once.” He nudged her foot under the table, smiling. “But…very well. If that is what you want — if it would please you — then I will allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it.” She smirked, kicking his foot a little harder than he’d kicked hers. “Like it’s some big burden.”

Now that she looked at him like that, her eyes dancing and her smile mischievous, he decided to let his guard down and be a bit more honest. “It is not.” He dropped his voice, something purring around the edges. “Of course I want you desperately. But I do not want to follow through unless it is pleasant for us both. You have been through a lot. I would have waited as long as you needed me to. I would continue to wait; however, I will not deny that I have thought about it.” He took a sip of his own soup, then lifted an eyebrow, side eyeing her. “In fact, I thought about it for five hundred years.”

A giggle left her. “You did, huh?”

Putting his spoon down, he reached across the table and captured her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Yes, because I love you with all my heart. You are a love worth waiting for.”

Her face grew warm, her heart melting. “I love you too, Tomoe. More than anything.” Then, glancing at their fellow patrons, at least one of which was eyeing them over his newspaper, she laughed. “We’re that couple, aren’t we? Like...so disgusting.”

“They only envy us.” He laid their hands on the table, still lightly clasping her hand in his. “Many people have unhappy marriages. We are very lucky.”

She nodded. “Yeah, but it wasn’t just luck. It was fate.” What she didn’t say was what they were each no doubt thinking — that it should’ve never happened.

For a few minutes, they were silent, each focusing on their food. She was hungrier than she’d realized, and she polished hers off quickly. Since yokai didn’t need to eat, he offered her the rest of his sandwich once she’d finished her food. While it was rude and she also felt guilty for taking his lunch, he insisted. She was too hungry to decline, so she accepted. Even so, she still had room for the cake.

“Are you certain you do not want more food?” Tomoe asked as she carefully cut her cake in half with her fork, pushing some onto his plate.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.” She watched him return the favor, cutting his cake in half, scraping it onto her plate.

Both were silent as they each took a bite of the other’s cake. After a moment of chewing, Tomoe hummed. “Do you like it?” she asked.

“It is decent.” Despite his lukewarm comment, he took another bite.

“It’s better than decent,” she grumbled.

“You are pregnant. Everything will taste like the gods’ food to you.”

“You’re mean.” Ignoring the way he laughed softly at her, she took a bite of her own cake. “It’s heavenly, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I rest my case.” He shut his eyes, putting another bite of cake in his mouth. Although he was done eating, having lost the taste for it ever since she’d brought up sex, he continued for her sake. It was flavorful, after all. “I am glad we came here. It is nice for such an occasion.”

“See? I told you.” Her eyes halfway shut, and she scraped some cream off her plate, sticking the fork in her mouth. “I’m glad you actually liked it. I was kinda scared you wouldn’t.”

“Well.” He lit his fingers on the back of her hand, stroking it gently. “I enjoyed it. I have had a nice time today.”

“Me too.”

They smiled at each other, and then fell silent once more as they finished their cakes, enjoying the mild weather and the occasional chirp of the sparrows flitting about their feet, begging for crumbs. It was so wonderfully calm, mundane, and Nanami relaxed completely. She had no doubt they could raise their children in this world, that it’d be safer for them. She vowed they’d always have a loving and stable home with them. From now on, things would only get better and better.

Chapter Text

The rest of their outing was just as light and carefree, with the two of them wandering around town and taking in the sights. Although Tomoe was exhausted, not used to being around people and out and about for so long, he didn’t want to deny Nanami when she’d missed her world so much. Everything seemed to touch her at such an emotional level; even going for a walk in the park brought tears to her eyes. If he hadn’t known her so well, he would’ve been concerned, but it was obvious from the smile on her face even as she wiped her eyes that she was overwhelmed in a good way. Before they went home, he ended up buying her another snack — this time from Candy Alley — since she was hungry yet again. They finished their trip by shopping at the grocery store together, discussing what they needed for dinner while Tomoe pushed the cart.

Once they’d gotten home and put the groceries away, Tomoe figured it was time for them both to take a nap. After all, it’d been a busy day, and given her struggles with her pregnancy, he didn’t want her to push herself too hard. Rest didn’t seem to be on her agenda, however, because as soon as they’d retired to his room and he’d lain down, she crawled into his futon and planted one forearm on either side of his head, her hair hanging in his face.

“What?” he asked, fighting back a smile.

Giggling, she laid her hands at his chest, fingers tracing the fold of his kimono. “Can I please do that thing for you now?”

Just like that, his exhaustion evaporated. His mouth went dry, his breaths coming quicker, harsher, his heart rate accelerating. Of course he hadn’t forgotten what they’d talked about over lunch. And now that they’d mended things between them, now that they’d rekindled their relationship and basked in comfortable, playful flirtations over the course of a wonderfully mundane day, he couldn’t deny that her question made his heart skip a beat. 

It’d been five hundred years since they’d last shown each other such passion, he thought, touching light fingertips to her cheek, his pupils dilating. He wouldn’t turn her down.

“Yes.” He breathed through parted lips, watching her eyes trail down to his sash. “What do you want to do?”

Knowing he wouldn’t last long thanks to the lack of contact, she shot him a wry smile. “Can I give you a blowjob?”

“Oh, gods,” he muttered. The very thought of her pretty mouth working him to perfection had his heart beating out of his chest. Although he wanted to scramble and work himself out of his clothes as fast as possible, he didn’t want to look desperate. Still, he sat up, letting her slip her hands around his waist to undo his sash. “Please do.”

“I’m glad you’re excited. I’ve wanted to do this for a while too.” She nuzzled against his throat, just under his jaw. Her nimble fingers worked his sash open with expert speed, and then she dropped it to the floor. Next, she parted the folds of his kimono, sliding it down from his shoulders. Her hands found the looser binding at his nagajuban, and she undid that as well. “So many layers,” she mumbled.

“You should be used to it.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I am, but they’re keeping me from you.” She kissed his throat all the way down to his collarbone, then parted his nagajuban, revealing his strong, pale chest. When she looked at his body, it was hard to believe that hundreds of years had passed since he’d last been bare before her. “You’re so hot…”

Since having lived with her, he’d grown accustomed to her slang, and he couldn't help but chuckle. “To you, not a single day has passed where you have not seen me. And yet you are so desperate for me?”

“I’m pregnant. It’s hormones,” she teased, toying with the edge of his nagajuban. With a sweet smile, she peeled his clothing down his arms and, with his help, stripped him clean of every article. Then, she ran her hands over his shoulders and his chest, rubbing circles into the smooth skin. “Besides,” she continued, kissing his collarbone, “I wanna make you feel good. I can’t wait to see how good it feels for you after hundreds of years.” Here, she giggled and nipped at his jaw. “I bet you’re gonna come in my mouth the second I suck you.”

“I see you still have a filthy mouth,” he quipped, smirking. 

In response, her hands trailed lower, fingertips dancing down the middle of his torso and then following the minimal trail of hair to his pelvis. She stopped right before the base of his erection, drawing a tiny whine from him. Just that slight touch had him trembling from his ears to the tip of his tail.

“Shhh.” She kissed his jaw slowly, her hands creeping up to his shoulders. “Just relax.” She pushed him to his back.

The sight of him staring up at her, his skin flushed down to his chest and his eyes wide, pupils glass blown, had her own arousal growing. She admired him, cupping his cheek in her hand, caressing it, and then brought her fingertips down to his collarbone. For a moment, they stared at each other, with her running her hands over his bare skin, listening to his breaths growing deeper and harsher. Biting her lip, she touched one of his nipples, lightly running her finger around it in circles, delighting in the way the bud hardened. She caught it in the pads of her fingers and pinched it lightly, eliciting a gasping moan from him. His eyes fell shut, a look of pure bliss on his face.

“You’re really pent up,” she teased, then slipped down his body, tracing her tongue from his throat to his sternum. She continued to pinch one nipple before bringing her lips to the other, pleased by the way his chest heaved.

“You will not even kiss me?” he began to complain. The wet heat of her tongue swiping his nipple shut him up, and he sucked a sharp breath in through his fangs. He stared down at her, watching her latch onto his nipple, licking it and sucking on it, sending tiny, electric shockwaves up and down his spine. His toes curled.

“I’ll kiss you after this,” she murmured, nuzzling against his chest. “You need this.” And badly too, she thought, tracing his ribs with her lips. Every so often, she touched the tip of her tongue to his skin. A grin spread over her face at the sound of his needy moans. His erection was flush against his belly. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so hard. I’m almost scared to touch it.”

An anguished sound caught in his throat. “Why?” Please touch it, he inwardly prayed, body quivering. Please. He dug his fangs into his lower lip to stop himself from begging, from losing his dignity.

Deciding to toy with him some more, she slipped up until her mouth was level with his ear. She continued to stroke his nipples and chest. “Because if I do, you’re gonna come right away,” she whispered in his ear. His hissed curse was enough for her to know it was the truth. Even though it was dangerous, she ran her tongue along the edge of his ear, his delight making itself known as a shiver when he choked on his moan. She kissed down to the base, where she buried her nose and mouth, working his ear, his scalp. “Mm, you like that, don’t you?”

Gods, his heart had never beat so fast. He didn’t think he could stand it a second longer. If she kept this up, he was going to come just from her toying with his nipples and ear. “Nanami,” he groaned, bucking his hips up.

Maybe she shouldn’t drag this out, she thought, taking pity on him. “Okay, okay. We’ll save that for later.” She pressed one more deep, wet kiss to the base of his ear, appreciating the softness of his fur, his masculine scent, and then she slipped between his spread legs.

Not wanting to make him wait any longer than necessary, she spent a minimal amount of time pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his body, starting at his collarbone and working her way all the way down his torso. She only made detours at his nipples, sucking on each one before continuing her journey. Her hands followed her kisses, gliding over his skin until his muscles reacted, tensing and relaxing based on where she touched him. Eventually, she reached her goal — and touched delicate fingertips to the underside of his erection. His legs jerked.

“You’re already leaking,” she purred, watching a bead of pre-cum rise to the tip. Momentarily, she kissed his waist around his erection, giggling at his whine, at the jolt of his body. Deciding to stop torturing him, she wrapped her hand around the base of his erection. “Your cock’s so hard. So big.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to his mouth, breathing shakily, humidly into his palm. His only thought was — please don’t let Mikage hear them. Even if they were married, it would’ve been embarrassing. They needed to find a better way to be discreet at the shrine, he realized.

All thoughts were chased out of his head the moment those damp, soft lips pressed to the tip of his erection. The surge of pleasure left him twitching, his heart skipping a beat. He nearly choked on his spit. She dragged her lips down his length until she reached her hand, and then she followed that trail back towards the tip, this time using a warm tongue, her movements agonizingly slow.

Kissing the tip of his erection again, keeping it languid, she parted with a smacking sound and hummed. “Does that feel good?” she whispered, then traced the slit with the tip of her tongue.

“Fuck,” he said, voice hoarse.

He brought his hands down to her head, long fingers sifting through the strands of her hair. It was all he could do to keep from digging his claws into her scalp, to keep from shoving her face closer. His breaths came through an open mouth, shaky and shallow and embarrassingly audible. The next time she mouthed at the tip of his erection, each time parting with a loud smacking sound, his ears flattened against his head.

“That must feel really good,” she murmured, stroking his erection with her hand, keeping her movements minimal, nothing more than a loose brush of her fingers over the hot, weighty flesh. “You want some more?”

Mouth dry, falling open even wider, he nodded, his fangs on full display. His hands shook at her head, sweat breaking out over his skin, body trembling. He felt like a string pulled too taut, suspended in the air, ready to snap at any moment. Yet she had him so transfixed, wrapped around her little finger, that he couldn't even beg.

“My poor fox,” she purred, injecting a lamenting undertone. She pressed wet kisses along his length, moaning softly against his erection, making her way to her hand. She continued to caress his erection, to toy with it. “It’s been so long since you’ve been touched.” Shutting her eyes, she pressed a kiss to his erection, this one much longer. “Mm, I can’t help but take my time, though. I love your big dick and tasting you... I just want to keep doing this forever.”

Much to his embarrassment, a small sob caught in the back of his throat. This time, he grasped her hair tightly, struggling to keep his claws turned into his palms, not wanting to hurt her. Her name wouldn’t even pass his lips. Nothing more than a strangled sound left him the next time he tried to utter a word.

“Poor, sexy fox,” she whispered, her lips brushing over his erection as she spoke. Another languid stroke of her tongue. Feeling him twitch was worth it. “Have you had enough? Do you want me to suck you?”

A groan escaped, and he rolled his hips up. When that velvet tongue swiped up to the tip of his erection, he whined. He felt unhinged, unable to even say please.

“Guess you don’t want me to.” She sighed against the tip of his erection, watching in delight as another bead of pre-cum gathered along the slit. Lapping at it, she moaned for his benefit. “If you don’t say you want it, then you’re not going to get it.”

Fuck, he thought, an agonized sound filling the room. He swallowed hard, mouth feeling like sandpaper, and he finally found his tongue. “Suck me…”

“What do we say when we want something?” She released his erection from her fist so she could wrap only her forefinger and thumb around it, moving her hand up and down, letting her fingers lightly graze him. 

His erection twitched. Fuck this. “Please,” he gasped, panting loudly, even his ears feeling hot. 

“That’s a good fox,” she breathed, nuzzling her cheek to the underside of his length. “I’m so lucky; my husband is so well-behaved.”

She wrapped her lips around the head of his erection, drawing a long, loud moan from him. As his hands relaxed, cradling her head, she pulled off with a popping sound so she could lap at the tip of his erection. The moment his hips rolled and another whispered plea fell from his lips, she took him in her mouth, a little deeper this time, but not quite halfway. She pulled up his erection with great suction and then followed it with a flick of her tongue over the tip.

 “Do you want more?” When he nodded, whimpering, she kissed the head. “All right.”

His balls felt so tight he wanted to beg her to take him, but he didn’t need to. Perhaps she realized she was teasing him too much, that his entire pelvis had tensed to the point of uncomfortable, because she wrapped her lips around him and sank down. He watched, wide-eyed, as she pulled him into her mouth entirely, until he could go no farther. Then, she moaned, the vibrations sending shockwaves of deep pleasure up and down his spine. His toes curled once more, his mouth falling open with his guttural moan.

Hearing his pleasure, she drew her lips up his length, her tongue gliding over his underside. She stopped at the tip, hollowing her cheeks and sucking extra hard before sliding back down, taking her time. If she didn’t, he’d come right away. And while she knew he wouldn’t last, she wanted to drag it out as long as possible so he could thoroughly enjoy himself. It wouldn’t do for his first sexual encounter in five hundred years to be over in five minutes or less.

After a few sucks, she pulled off again, smirking at his anguished cry. “Poor fox,” she murmured. “But I don’t want the fun to be over so soon. Do you?” She giggled at his wide eyes, his pupils dilated to the point she almost couldn’t even see his amethyst irises. “That’s why we have to go slow. Very slow.” She stroked featherlight fingertips over his length. “I want to enjoy every inch of you for as long as possible. So you tell me if you’re about to come, all right?”

He nodded twice. He’d never felt like this before, so needy and willing to do anything if she’d just suck him — just one more suck. A murmur of her name, of relief, left him when she pulled him into her mouth again. Momentarily, his eyes fell shut as the tip hit the back of her throat; it took all of his self-control not to thrust into her mouth. His legs shook, reduced to gelatin, and he twitched every time she slurped up his length. It was a miracle he found his voice.

“That feels…” He paused, panting, whimpering. “So good.”

One more slurp, and she pulled off with a sharp pop. “Mm, I bet it does.” More teasing kisses, more fluttering of her tongue around the head. She felt him pulse in her hand. Quickly, she clamped her forefinger and her thumb at the base of his erection, turning her head so she wasn’t even teasing him with her breath. “Nuh uh, we’re not doing that. You can’t come.”

He snapped his teeth, unable to stop himself. This drew a giggle from her, and he glanced down to find her fiery gaze locked on him. That look all but stopped his heart in his chest. She devoured him with her eyes alone.

“Don’t come. Be good for me and don’t come.” She clamped him a little tighter — as tight as she knew he could take it.

“N-Nanami,” he gasped, his hips rocking. He was out of control.

In response, she kissed his hip bone, then bit down on it. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you soon. Just remember — you haven’t had this in five hundred years, so you should enjoy every second.”

He was going to die, he thought, thrashing slightly, chest heaving. It took him a moment before that tingling sensation faded away in the background, and then his body sank into the futon, the tremors still wracking his muscles. That seemed to be the signal for her, because she kissed the head of his erection again.

“There we go. Much better.”

One more kiss, and then she pulled him all the way into her mouth again, taking his entire length with ease. She turned her eyes up towards him, batting her lashes on purpose, trying to look as innocent as possible. He liked that, she thought. Even though he knew what her profession had been, how many men she’d slept with, they both liked to pretend they’d only been with each other. And this added to that fantasy.

When she gave him that look, he thought he might explode. Whimpering, he stroked her hair, trying to distract himself from the heated sensation pooling in his belly. Even in such a sexual moment, even when she looked at him so seductively, he found himself thinking — he loved this woman. Gulping air, he whimpered when she sucked him even harder. At the same time, she tightened her hold around the base of his erection, a makeshift cock ring, forcing him to stave off his orgasm.

Right now, she debated whether or not she wanted to let him come. Their eyes had been locked in a staring contest for what felt like a whole minute, and she took his expression in — the furrow of his brow, his open mouth, his large eyes. He was about to lose it, she thought, struggling not to grin. Maybe she could release him in a few minutes.

Partially shutting her eyes, looking at him with hazy desire, she opened her mouth halfway up his length and then drew a gentle tongue up the underside. She wrapped her lips around the head and sucked it, then pulled off, a string of saliva attaching her lower lip to his erection. His hands tightened at her head, his breathing growing louder. Continuing to stare into his eyes, she drew a flattened tongue over the tip, releasing a whimper just for his benefit.

“Tomoe,” she breathed. “Tomoe.”

He couldn’t take any more of this. His own breaths hurt, that tension having grown into a large ball, all but extending the bounds of his body. While he’d often thought having a former prostitute as a wife had its perks, right now, he was cursing her for it. She knew all the tricks, and she was using every one of them. He was close to snapping.

Perhaps she noticed this, because she asked, “Is my sweet fox okay?”

“You are…” He swallowed hard, then sucked a breath through his fangs. “Cruel.”

It was time to stop, she thought. Offering an apologetic smile, she nuzzled his erection, then kissed it. “I’m sorry, my dear husband.” She lapped the tip of his erection, tasting his pre-cum yet again. “Do you want me to let you come?”

“Please,” he growled. This time, the tips of his claws scraped her scalp.

She flinched. At least he caught it in time and flattened his fingers. “Of course, my sweet husband. I want to make you feel good.” She shut her eyes, dragging her tongue along his length. “You deserve relief.”

In the next second, she sank down on his erection, and then began to bob her head in expert movements. It was much more intense this time, the suction perfect, her tongue caressing every sensitive spot on the underside. Although the sight of her going up and down on his erection was beautiful, it was hard to keep his eyes open when they felt like rolling back into his head. He groaned, hips rocking once. Luckily, she followed the movement with ease, preventing him from ramming into her throat.

Keeping one hand loosely clamped around the base of his erection, she moved the other to caress the inside of his thigh with gentle touches. That made him twitch all the more, his moans increasing. By now, he tossed his head from one side to the other, his ribs outlined against his skin as he arched up, body undulating. She would’ve smirked at the sight of his pert nipples had she not had him in her mouth. The sight made her feel even wetter. That same heat he must’ve been feeling had coalesced in her pelvis, making her press her hips against the futon, grinding lightly on it for a little relief. The friction of cotton against her clit helped — as did the knowledge that he’d lap at her clit like she sucked him if she asked.

“Faster,” he couldn’t help but say, albeit breathlessly.

He half expected her to deny him, but she did no such thing; instead she obliged, bobbing her head, sucking him harder. A low, elongated whine resounded off the walls of the small room, but she didn’t complain. As he watched her, he realized her hips were moving as well, and then it hit him — she was grinding against the futon. Just knowing that she derived pleasure from this, that it turned her on, served to heighten his own enjoyment. That sensation mounted inside of him, sharpening, racing towards the peak. He almost didn’t have the willpower to say it.

“I am going to come,” he finally managed to choke out, voice rasping, hoarse.

Instead of saying anything, she only sucked him with greater fervor. With each bob of her head, she ensured her tongue massaged the underside of his erection, each stroke firm, sloppy. The slurping and humming sounds overlaid his moans, their heavy breathing mingling. It only took a few more sucks before he arched up, suspended and tense, and then he moaned loudly, bursting into her mouth.

It had come so swiftly, he’d barely had time to prepare, hadn’t been able to warn her again. His moans filled the room — there was no doubt Mikage heard them this time — but he couldn’t help himself. The very room seemed to fade out of view, and all he saw was her pink lips wrapped around his erection, her hair hanging around her face, her expressive brown eyes holding his gaze with so much lust and adoration shining in them. They stared each other down as he thrust into her mouth, as she met his every movement with ease, the pleasure coursing so powerfully through his body that it made him weak. Eventually, the wave passed, and then he collapsed to the futon, gasping, shaking, his heart thudding loudly in his ears.

Now that he was finished — and no doubt terribly sensitive — she carefully pulled up his length and withdrew him from her mouth entirely. She swallowed, ensuring he knew she did, and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. He blinked slowly, but they still looked into each other’s eyes. There was so much emotion in his gaze — love, softness, gratitude, even a bit of angst. A smile flickered over her mouth at the sight of his ears lowered sideways, his lips parted, his hair adhering to the sweat on his brow and temples. She crawled up the futon to fall gently on top of him, encircling him in her arms, tilting her hips to the side.

“Hi,” she teased. This drew a breathless laugh from him, followed by the kind of sigh which caved his chest in. His eyes fell shut. Nudging him with her nose, she asked, “Did you die?”

“Yes.” Another chuckle left him. He had enough strength to slip his arms around her, though. This time, she lay on him chest to chest, her cheek pressed to his. “Thank you. I needed that more than I could ever express.”

“I know.” She nuzzled his cheek, her heart melting, soft for the man she held in her arms. Tracing his eyelids and long lashes with delicate lips, she whispered, “Do you feel better?”

“Immensely.” He swallowed hard. Remembering how she’d rubbed herself against the futon, he added, “You seemed to enjoy it too.”

“Yeah.” She grinned, nudging her nose down his cheek to his neck. There, she drew her lips over his jaw to his pulse, kissing his fragile skin until he shivered. “I love watching my dear husband unravel.”

“You are quite good at that.” He growled, a wry smile spreading over his face. Then, he ran a hand over her spine, appreciating her body heat radiating through her clothes. “You did not find your relief, did you?”

“No, but I enjoyed giving you yours.” She smiled, eyes halfway shut, hands resting at Tomoe’s shoulders. It felt so good to lie on him, to tangle their limbs and enjoy each other’s presence. Sighing, she closed her eyes, humming, her body relaxing. The peace didn’t last long, however, because a hand clamped down on her ass. Eyes popping open, she lifted her head to find an impish grin on his face, his fangs visible. “Already?”

“It is as you have said; it has been five hundred years,” he purred. His eyes fluttered shut and he drew a tongue over the expanse of her throat, from the base to the tender skin just under her jaw. Once there, he scraped his fangs against it, eliciting a shiver from her. Creeping his other hand up her shirt and then under her bra, he found her breast. “I can go again shortly. Unless you would like me to please you with my fingers or tongue.”

At the suggestion, she squeezed her eyes shut and shivered. He kneaded her breast in one hand, his other hand groping her ass. Already, her mouth was open and she was panting, her blood feeling like it was on fire. “Tomoe…”

“Well? What would you like?” He nipped at her throat all the way to her earlobe, which he nibbled. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Swallowing hard, not keen to wait, she nodded. As his lips attached to her throat, his hands drifting to her skirt, she said, “Just until you can fuck me.”

So that was what she wanted. “Oh? Are you aching?”

“Y-yeah.” Even though she knew he probably wouldn’t last long again, since a blowjob was a different kind of exciting than penetrative sex, she was worked up enough that she figured she wouldn’t last long either.

After some fumbling, he removed her skirt, unzipping it and sliding it down her hips. She wriggled out of it, and then he dropped it to the floor. His mouth worked her neck, leaving no part of it neglected, his hands sweeping up her torso, bunching her shirt up until he reached her breasts. At the same time, he felt her hands moving to her waist, and a quick glance down revealed her working her panties down. His heart skipped a beat, his length already reacting to the sight.

Breathing harder, she arched her back, pushing her breasts closer to him. He took the hint, bending down, mouthing at the side of each breast, his hands cupping them under the fabric of her bra. Her nipples brushed his palms and she flinched, overly sensitive — more so than usual. It must’ve been because of her hormones, she thought. As he drew his tongue over her heated skin, she finished pulling her shirt up over her head and dropped it aside.

Just as she was reaching around to unhook her bra, his hands shifted, gliding around to the back. She giggled as he fumbled with it, clearly not used to it. After a moment of this, he made an anguished sound, so she reached behind and found the hook herself. Once she’d popped free, she sighed in relief.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head before rubbing her cheek against one of his soft, fuzzy ears. The fur tickled her skin and she giggled, running her hands through his hair until she reached his ears.

As she began to massage the base of his ears, releasing all sorts of feel good hormones throughout his body, Tomoe sighed and leaned into her touch. His lips trailed to one of her nipples, and he drew his tongue over it, teasing her like she’d teased him. He continued to knead one breast, to cup the one he paid attention to at the bottom while he played with her nipple. Her sighs turned to moans, and she arched her back again, pushing into his mouth. Knowing what she wanted, he captured her in his mouth entirely, latching onto her fragile skin with his fangs, tongue dancing over her hardened nipple.

“Ah,” she gasped, trembling. One of his hands ran down her side and around to her ass, his touch slow, sensual. When he squeezed her ass and began to rub it in circles, she couldn’t help but think — his skill hadn’t diminished at all. “Are you gonna tease me?” She tensed up, hoping he wouldn’t make her wait like she’d made him wait. It would be just the kind of thing he’d do, though.

“Mmm, no.” He pulled off her breast so that he could kiss each nipple. The hand at her ass moved around her hip, his fingertips trailing to her mound. She quivered, breaths cut and quick, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Pressing his fingertips to her clit, he began to rub her in circles, drawing a moan from her. He kissed her breast again, listening to her heart hammer in her chest. “You are so wet for me.” He dipped his fingers between her thighs, tracing her folds, slicking through the wetness there.

“Please, Tomoe…” She buried her mouth and nose in one ear, her hand finding the other. She mouthed at that ear desperately, massaging his other ear, running her fingertips over the appendage until his breathing had deepened as well. It was working; he was stroking her in faster circles.

It wasn’t taking much, he thought, almost grimly. He’d hoped to get her off once before he penetrated her — much like she’d gotten him off — but already he was desperate for her again. Perhaps she wasn’t keen to wait either, because in no time, she’d sunk down, straddling his lap, her pelvis close to his.

Although his erection wasn’t pressed to his belly, it was still very much so present, and she took full advantage of it. She scooted closer, her legs stretched behind him, pushing against him until she could grind against the underside of his length. Small sparks of pleasure flooded her body, leaving her groaning, gyrating her hips in slow, firm movements, until she was up against him, as close as two people could get. She could feel his chest and stomach moving with his breaths, could feel every tremor that rippled through his body. But she wanted even more.

“I’m so wet,” she whimpered. “I want you.”

“Already?” Tomoe chuckled, wrapping his arms around her hips, clasping his hands at her lower back. “You have not even kissed me yet.”

With that reminder, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, her eyes falling shut. It came suddenly, and he froze up. But the shock receded quickly, and then he melted into her embrace, her kiss. He worked her lips with his, relishing the heat of her mouth, the silky sensation of her tongue brushing his lips. Parting them, he let her in, let her explore his mouth, let her play with his tongue and his teeth. A gasp caught in his throat when the tip of her tongue bumped his fangs, even more so when she ran that tongue along his teeth, following the roof of his mouth. All the while, her hips moved, grinding her folds and clit against him, her wetness increasing. The good of her blowjob wore off entirely.

Pulling away with a smacking sound, she looked into his eyes, both of their gazes clouded over with desire. She bit his lower lip, tugging and sucking on it until he whimpered. Then, she released him and dropped to her back, not breaking eye contact. Spreading her knees, she whispered, “Mount me.”

Nothing could’ve been hotter than those two words. With a dry mouth, Tomoe nodded and shifted to kneel between her legs. He crawled up her body and stretched out on top of her, settling down until his hips were flush with hers. Now he could feel her breathing — her stomach moving against his, her breaths falling in shallow puffs on his throat. Slowly, he guided himself into her, her wetness making it easy to glide in, to sink as deeply as possible.

The moment her tight heat fully embraced him, his eyes fluttered and he whispered her name. Her arms encircled his neck, her lips finding his collarbone and the base of his throat. With that, he rolled his hips once experimentally, getting used to the sensation again. It was so intense. Immediately, he dropped his chin to his chest, a low ah leaving him, his entire body trembling and his heart thundering in his ears. There was no way he’d last. Already, he made a silent apology to Nanami for being inadequate.

That thought was chased from his mind as she arched her lower back, pressing her hips to his, encouraging him. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, whimpers catching in the back of her throat. As he rocked into her again, he rubbed his waist against her clit, attempting to give her as much pleasure as possible. His arms shook, barely able to hold him up, their heated, humid breaths filling the space between them.

Even if they didn’t end up having perfect sex, Nanami didn’t care. It felt too good to be with him again, to be beneath him, to have that comfort of knowing that they were safe, that they were in love. And she could be with him like this for the rest of their lives. Overcome by passion and the need for closeness, she wrapped her legs around his hips, catching his tail. Instead of flicking it aside, he partially wrapped it around her, drawing a giggle from her. His lips grazed her temple, then the side of her head, his breaths loud and heavy against her hair.

She clawed at his back, touching her lips to his shoulder, his collarbone, the base of his throat. His skin was so damp, so warm. Surges of pleasure washed over her with each gentle thrust, and she tilted her pelvis up higher to get him just where she needed. “Un, right there,” she panted as he hit that place deep inside her that made her feet twitch. He repeated the action, drawing another heady moan from her. Panting, she tightened her legs around his hips, the tickle of his fur heightening the sensations.

Grinding his waist against her clit, he rocked with more punctuated movements, with more force. She trembled beneath him, their body heat rising and building between them. Now she was sweating too, her skin sticking to his, the additional friction sending shivers down his spine. Cradling her head in his arms, he shut his eyes, mouthing at her hair, murmuring her name. She responded with whispers of his name, her nails digging into his back. Goosebumps spread over his skin, and he pounded her into the futon, drawing half grunts, half moans from her.

“You’re so good,” she whispered, nuzzling against his throat, heart thumping in her chest. One of her hands drifted to his hair, fingers slipping through the strands, nails grazing his scalp. She smiled at the resulting quiver of his body. Between kisses, she added, “You make me feel so good when you fuck me so deep. I love to feel you all the way inside of me.”

“Nanami,” he groaned, words failing him. His eyes shut tighter, his teeth locking. Just that phrase was enough to spur him on, and he thrust faster, fighting the urge to double her over. Gentle, he must be gentle. She carried his cubs, and he didn’t want to hurt her. With that in mind, he eased up on his thrusts.

“You can go hard,” she murmured, tilting her chin up, wishing she could reach his ear. Her hand drifted to it, fingertips trailing through that soft fur. She stroked it, keeping her touch light, teasing. “I like it rough.”

Stilling his hips, he swallowed hard, panting, eyes hazy as he met her stare. “No more rough sex for a while,” he told her. “You are pregnant.”

A pout flickered over her mouth, but before she could no doubt protest, he started moving again, pressing her into the futon, keeping his thrusts firm yet slow. Careful, he told himself. She was precious; his cubs were precious.

Despite wanting more, she quickly adjusted to this amount of stimulation and relaxed beneath him. Soon, he had her moaning again, her eyes shut and chin tilted up, hair splaying out over the pillow. Between her moans and keens, she breathed his name, running a sensual hand down his back, tracing his spine with wandering fingertips, appreciating the way his body tensed. Her other hand tightened in his hair, grasping the back of it, pulling it until he groaned.

It was impressive that he’d lasted even this long, she thought, eyes fluttering open to watch him move on top of her, to stare at his chin. “Are you feeling as good as I am?” she asked softly, lips ghosting the skin just below his jaw.

Ears laid back, mouth open as shallow inhales and shaky exhales left him, he nodded. He could only guess how she felt, but based on the way her body rolled, based on the fact she tensed her muscles around him, based on her moans and sighs of his name, she was in great pleasure. “You seem more sensitive today,” he murmured.

Instead of reminding him once again that she was pregnant, she only hummed and nuzzled his throat. Once more, he hit a spot inside of her that made her toes curl, and she threw her head back, her spine arching and her breasts pushed up, a louder moan filling the room. “Tomoe, oh, Tomoe.”

They were reaching the point of no return, he thought before his brain went completely to static. He couldn’t think anymore, acting only on animal instinct, on desperate need. Rocking faster, he gasped each breath, relishing the sensation of her solid, warm body beneath him, of her wet tightness surrounding him. She tensed her muscles for him. His next groan was too loud, but he couldn’t contain it.

“I am so close,” he whispered. If he hadn’t been so far gone, he would’ve been ashamed that he hadn’t performed up to standards, that he hadn’t gotten her off yet.

“Mm, me too,” she murmured, though she was sure he was closer than she was.

Just those words snapped something inside of him. The warmth in his belly rose to a burning inferno, and he gasped, the sound sharp and choked. Her name flew from his lips and he thrust into her with unbridled passion, out of control. The last thing he heard before it exploded inside of him was her moans of his name. The sensation of her nails down his back enhanced his peak, and he pulsed inside of her with his release, every part of his body shaking and weak.

The pleasure was the only thing that kept him going even when he felt like caving in on himself, and so he rubbed against her impossibly hard until the last wave passed. Unable to help it, he collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, his breaths wheezed and short. Her arms surrounded him, her hums and whimpers alerting him to her need. As her hips rolled up and she grinded against his pelvis, he forced himself to push up on his arms.

Momentarily, he hovered over her, returning her affections, rocking his hips with hers. He was losing his erection, though, and he felt much too exhausted even for this activity. Shooting her an apologetic glance, he inched down her body, withdrawing, earning a whine of his name. “I will take care of you,” he promised, then slid farther down between her legs. Meeting her gaze, he buried his mouth between her legs, wasting no time in continuing where they’d left off.

Even with the additional hormones racing through her, she hadn’t been able to get off in a timely manner. Coming with him inside her felt better than anything, the intimacy unparalleled, but it was a close second when he locked eyes with her and ate himself out of her. Her thighs trembled, and her hands found his ears, a whimper erupting before she could stop it.

It all felt better than usual, so much more intense, leaving even her fingers and toes twitching. Still, she relaxed, able to enjoy it more now that the pressure was off to come with him, now that he was focusing solely on her pleasure. “You’re such a good husband,” she murmured breathlessly, deciding praise was in order.

In response, he purred against her clit, the vibrations causing her to come up off the futon, her legs wrapping around his neck. He maintained eye contact, that dazzling amethyst gaze bewitching her.

She hoped their children would have his eyes.

That thought was short-lived, because his tongue swiped between her folds, firmly pressing to her entrance before ending at her clit. This continued for a moment before he pushed the tip of his tongue inside of her, curving it up with his licks as he worked it in and out. It struck her — he was sucking his seed out of her. Somehow, that was ridiculously hot.

His hands found her thighs, and he stroked the delicate skin there, his thumbs following the taut tendons from her pelvis to the inside of her leg. Usually, he’d follow his fingers with his tongue but, this time, he focused on pleasuring her to completion. His own taste inundated his senses, reminding him that she was his, that she belonged to him. Just like he belonged to her.

Eyes half-lidding, he moaned against her clit and folds, then shifted his focus solely to her clit. Her heavy breaths increased, and his ear tilted at the rapid beating of her heart. That meant he was doing well. A second later, her hands clamped at his ears, fingers pressing into the bases at the exact spot that sent a shockwave of pure pleasure down his spine, from his scalp all the way to the tip of his tail. His body jolted, an unexpected sensation like an orgasm wracking his frame. It was enough to disrupt his licking, his breaths coming in harsh puffs against her mound.

“Mm, did that feel good?” she teased, although she could barely speak. She sounded so desperate. Even if she didn’t have the upper hand here, it was still fun to play with him. And he deserved this. Pressing that spot again, she watched in delight as his body jerked, a muffled groan vibrating against her clit. “Keep coming.”

Damn her, he thought, although he didn’t truly mean it. Because the dry, full body orgasms she gave him felt fantastic. He tilted his head towards her hand, encouraging her to play with the ear that was the most sensitive. Much to his relief, she acquiesced, rubbing it, massaging it, fingers finding that junction of his ear and scalp. Oh, gods. Another wave of feel good hormones was released, making him quiver in need. He rutted against the futon.

As much as she wanted to bask in this for much longer, to keep going for hours, her orgasm was building up. Her clit felt so, so sensitive. That wonderfully hot tongue continued to run over her clit in vertical motions, his lips surrounding her. Every second, he closed his lips around her clit in kisses, until it felt so good she tugged at his ears. A whine pulled from him, and she whispered her apology, loosening her grip. But that feeling was racing towards a peak, especially when his mouth was so wet, intensifying the sensations, his lips providing enough suction to leave her legs jerking involuntarily.

“Come on, my sexy fox,” she whispered, rocking up against his mouth, grinding herself against it as best she could. She was in control now. “I want you to come too. Hump the bed like you’re humping me.”

Her dirty talk paid off. That combined with another rub of his ears had him moaning non-stop. He thrust against the blankets, feeling like he was in heat all over again, her hands working his ears to perfection. Wanting to return the favor, he pressed a finger inside her entrance, nimbly finding that hot spot deep within her and stroking it. It seemed like his memory of how to please her had served him well; her whimpers and gasps of his name told him exactly how he made her feel, and he slipped a second finger in to join the first. Even after sex, she was so, so tight.

She couldn’t take it anymore. All she wanted was to keep talking dirty to him, but she couldn’t find her tongue. Her head tossed from one side to the other, as though she had no say over her own body’s movements anymore, pleas and cries of his name filling the room. His lips closed around her clit once more, sucking hard, and she was gone.

Lifting her hips from the futon, she cried out his name, squeezing his ears. Even though such an action should’ve been painful, she must’ve timed it just right, because he moaned against her, the vibrations making her whimper from the additional shocks. It was almost painful how good it felt. He continued to finger her throughout her orgasm, following her as she thrust up against him. After several long seconds of this treatment, she finally dropped to her back, breathing hard, heart thudding in her ears. She almost didn’t even see the ceiling above her, too wrapped up in the velvet wings of bliss that carried her far away. She sagged.

Now that she’d come, he relaxed as well, letting her legs slide off his shoulders. He ran a tender tongue over her folds, between them, tasting her as well as cleaning her. The tip of his tongue teased the bottom of her entrance, drawing a final whimper from her. Then, as she shuddered, he realized she must be too sensitive. He withdrew his fingers and sat up. Their eyes met.

“Are you satisfied?” he asked, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth.

Smiling tiredly, she nodded. “Yeah.” She breathed deeply, then released it in a heaving sigh. “I feel good. But tired.”

“Me too,” he admitted. He crawled up the futon and dropped beside her, immediately engulfing her in his arms, nuzzling her cheek. She was so warm; perhaps they’d overdone it. Even if they hadn’t, they shouldn’t push their luck. “Why don’t you clean up and get some rest? I will nap with you.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” she complained, then rolled onto her side, scooting back so he was spooning her. “I want you to hold me.”

It was too hard to say no when she got like this. “All right,” he sighed. “But only for a few minutes.” He kissed the shell of her ear, smiling softly, arms wrapping around her waist, tail curling protectively over her hip. One of his hands found her belly, rubbing it, appreciating the smooth skin there and the flutter of energy beneath his fingertips. He felt his cubs’ presence. The sentiment blurted out before he could think. “I am really looking forward to being a father.”

She had been catching her breath, eyes shut, her head spinning slightly. His voice rooted her back into the present, and she lifted her head, turning it to look at him. The gentle expression, the affection in his eyes, had her melting. Lightly, she touched his hand, then her own belly. “I’m looking forward to having a family too,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure at first, but...I think the timing was right, after all.”

He nosed behind her ear, then kissed that tender patch of skin behind it. Breathing in her scent, he held her tighter and murmured, “I feel the same way.” Smiling, he buried his face deeper in her neck, in her hair. “You will be a wonderful mother.”

Face reddening, she giggled. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I know you’re going to be so doting.”

“I cannot help myself.” He nipped her earlobe.

“And I love you for that.”

Lifting his head, he leaned over her shoulder to touch his lips to hers, their hands finding each other. “I love you more.”

They exchanged another smile, then kissed once more. This time, neither of them stopped.

Chapter Text

Nanami plodded up the steps to the veranda, slow and deliberate. Although she was only halfway through her pregnancy at this point, her limbs felt like they were laden with lead, an exhausted heaviness weighing her down. Carrying yokai really sapped her of her energy, she thought, swiping her forehead with the back of her hand and peering up at the darkening sky. And getting used to working again, even if it was limited to afternoons at the cram school she’d snagged a tutoring position with, only drained her further.

It had been several months since her return to the present era, and while she’d acclimated to their new situation in many ways, this was one of her old habits that she couldn’t help but cling to. Even with Tomoe pulling in a paycheck, she’d been determined to contribute to the household, to pull her weight, to make herself useful and pave the path for their future. Maybe she’d need to take maternity leave within mere months, but when an opportunity had presented itself, she’d felt compelled to take it. Having anything on her resume was better than nothing, no matter how short-lived the gig was. 

That didn’t mean it’d been easy. Especially when her weakness had manifested again, leaving her the kind of tired that bled bone deep. It didn’t render her helpless with the kinds of aches and pains she’d felt prior to falling through time, but the light-headedness and the debilitating nausea certainly didn’t do her any favors.

Speaking of nausea. She swallowed hard, planting a hand on the side of the shrine and shutting her eyes, breathing deeply. She prayed for the wave to pass, but it clenched in her gut, red-hot and poisonous. Her nails dug into the wood until it splintered, and she sucked a breath in through her teeth. Damn it.

Determined, she pushed open the door and shuffled inside. The clink and rattle of pots and pans emanated from the kitchen, assuring her of her husband’s presence, and it gave her just enough strength to make it to the couch. She didn’t have to push herself any farther than that, she decided, plopping down with a loud sigh.

“I’m home,” she called out, tone hoarse and feeble.

At the sound of her voice, Tomoe set down the tea towel he’d been holding and stuck his head in the adjacent room. There, he found Nanami seated at the edge of the couch, one hand laid on her rounded stomach, the other gripping the edge of the cushion until her knuckles had gone white. Even from here, he caught the tremor of her knees, and her pale, dewy complexion betrayed her state. Worried, he stepped into the room.

“Are you all right?” he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She forced a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah, just a little tired.”

His lips pressed into a firm, thin line and he swept her bangs up with his hand, feeling her forehead. “You are sweating,” he remarked. “Are you ill?”

“Ah…not really.” She waved it off, even as her stomach roiled again. “My stomach hurts a little. That’s all.”

His ears lowered, the line of his mouth relaxing ever so slightly. He brought tender fingers down the curve of her cheek, then shifted a few strands of sweat-ridden hair back from the nape of her neck. Although her symptoms had lessened considerably since she’d returned to the present, this was a side effect which had continued to plague her.

“Is it the nausea again?” he queried. When she nodded, he exhaled and brushed his hand over her shoulder. That meant it hurt more than a little, he thought. Out loud, he assured her, “I will make ginger tea. For now, lie down and try to rest.”

With that, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, then turned and headed for the kitchen. Absentmindedly, he put the kettle on and rummaged through the cabinets for the ginger tea, his thoughts drifting to Nanami’s current situation. She was much too stubborn and she didn’t acknowledge her limits, he thought, sighing through his nose, his brows knitting together. When she’d told him she intended to find a part-time job as a tutor, he hadn’t been keen on the idea — certainly not after he’d seen how ill she’d gotten in the past. While her health scare seemed to have passed, he couldn’t help how uneasy it made him feel whenever she displayed any sign of weakness, even if her doctors had insisted it was normal.

Learning how hard a pregnancy could be on a human body had changed his mind about their previous agreement for her to work as long as possible. And she’d had full agency to do as she pleased, but that hadn’t always stopped him from speaking up, especially lately. Today felt like another one of those days where it was difficult to temper his opinion on the matter.

The kettle whistled, snapping him from his thoughts. He removed it from the burner and tipped the spout over the teapot he’d prepared for her, with fresh, dried slices of ginger lying on the bottom. While it steeped, he gathered a tray and laid out a cup, napkins, sugar, and a spoon. Carefully, he balanced the tray in his arms and headed for the living room, where she now lay with her legs stretched over the length of the couch, a few pillows propped behind her back and her head to elevate them.

“Here,” he murmured, placing the tray on the coffee table. “This should help.”

“Thanks—” she began, sitting up just a little more. 

As he poured the tea, the scent hit her, spicy and pungent, and she felt her stomach lurch. Heat burned up her throat, and she scrambled for the edge of the couch, seizing the wastebasket at the end just in time. She heaved, tears pricking her eyes from the effort, her whole body wrenching and protesting, the muscles in her stomach aching as though she’d stretched them too far. Acid corroded her nostrils, and she bent farther into the bucket as sweat trickled down her temples and her neck, hardly able to keep her grip.

Instantly, Tomoe lunged to support the bucket with one hand, his other hand grasping her long hair and drawing it out of her face. His heart thrashed as she coughed and gagged, the sound echoing in the depths of the bucket, wet and sickly. What only took a handful of minutes felt like an entire hour, but she eventually spat one final time, her breathing labored and quick, her limbs quaking until the whole cushion vibrated.

“S-sorry,” she croaked out, a half-cough, half-laugh escaping her. “It just kinda hit me when I smelled it.”

He frowned. “There is no need to apologize. You cannot help it.” Mentally, he tacked ginger to the end of the ever growing list of things that seemed to trigger these bouts of sickness, then rose with the wastebasket in hand. “I will clean this out and fetch water. Can you wait for me to return? Or shall I help you to the bathroom instead?”

She shook her head. “No, I can wait here.” Slowly, she reclined, only because she was afraid any additional movement would set her off again. Best to lie still and wait it out, she thought, staring up at the ceiling.

While he cleaned up, she lay unmoving, one arm over her stomach, overly focused on the ambient sounds of him flitting about the shrine. She could still smell the tea, so the good of her purge hardly lasted; within minutes, the nausea and ache had returned like stifling bands around her midst. Luckily, Tomoe emerged and whisked the tea set away before it could crescendo to that sharp sort of sickness that would double her over. Gradually, the feeling subsided to the edge of tolerable. She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to rest.

With ginger no longer an option for her stomachache, Tomoe wracked his brain for anything he could do to help. Last week, it had been crackers, he thought. The week before, it had been mint. It seemed like their options were limited, and so he could do nothing more than draw a glass of water and pad into the living room.

“You ought to drink,” he told her, sitting on the end of the sofa, at her feet. 

A whine bubbled in her throat. “I don’t think I can keep it down right now.”

“Well, you should take a sip or two,” he insisted, holding the glass out. “At least rinse your mouth.”

Begrudgingly, she accepted the glass and pulled a minuscule amount into her mouth. She swished it a few times and swallowed. Right away, her stomach twisted, and she shuddered. “Ugh, I need a minute.” She handed the glass back to him.

As she settled back into the cushions, her body stiff and rigid, her belly rising and falling with her shallow breaths, he grimaced. Even now, she was flushed, fresh beads of sweat welling up to the surface of her skin. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her feet into his lap, pressing his thumbs into the arches. These days, they tended to be sore and swollen when she spent too much time standing at work. If he could ease that much of her discomfort, then he would.

A small sigh left her. “That feels nice,” she murmured, her muscles unwinding.

“Are your feet bothering you?” he asked.

“A little,” she admitted, flexing her toes. “It’s been a long day.”

“I do wish you would not push yourself so hard,” he muttered before he could catch himself, his eyes dropping to her feet. He worked his touch up to the ball of her foot, a frown creasing his forehead. “You fall ill so easily.”

“That’s just how pregnancy is,” she mumbled. A fiery sensation travelled up her throat, and she swallowed hard to suppress it. Her chest collapsed in a shuddering sigh.

And once again, she brushed it off, he thought, disapproval curving his mouth downward. Why did she always have to be so obstinate?  

“Nanami,” Tomoe began, exasperation bleeding into his tone.

She flicked a tired gaze up at him, dark circles visible under her eyes. His ears lowered slightly. To see her in so much pain had his heart beating rapidly, the worry tightening around his stomach. He pressed firm thumbs against the arch of her foot. Now wasn’t the time to chide her, he reminded himself. If anything, she needed him to encourage her to rest.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

Another fierce wave rocked her like a sailboat on stormy seas. Her stomach lurched. She shook her head, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d puke again. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and released it in a long sigh. She couldn’t even move an inch.

“I am sorry your pregnancy has been so hard on you,” he said quietly. Hoping to distract her, he took her other foot, beginning to work it from the base of her toes. “Let us ask if something can be done at your doctor appointment tomorrow. You have been very miserable.” 

He glanced down at her feet, noticing how her ankles had swollen. A sigh pulled from him. Maybe she’d come a long way, but he still wished she’d lean on him more than she had been. 

All she could do was hum, yet even that made the bile rise in her throat. Quickly, she swallowed it back, but the burn had tears pricking her eyes. Tomorrow was the first ultrasound where the babies would be developed enough to make out their features — she could look forward to that much. Although Tomoe had expressed concern about them finding out their children were foxes, Mikage had assured them that he could use his powers to disguise the cubs’ true form from anyone except them. Having access to modern medicine, to adequate care and support, had taken a weight off her shoulders. Apart from her morning sickness and the overall discomfort her changing body inflicted on her, she could relax and even afford a little excitement over finding out if the twins she carried were boys, girls, or one of each.

It seemed Tomoe had lost her to her thoughts, because she had a glassy look in her eyes, her gaze trained on him as though she saw right through him. His hands moved to her ankles and lower legs, and he massaged them gently. “It is all right. You don’t have to talk. Would you like me to be quiet?” When she only stared at him, he realized that was too difficult to answer. So he tried to rephrase it. “Would you like me to talk to you?”

A shudder wracked her, chasing her thoughts away. Her breaths came harsher, body feeling like it was burning up again. It felt like her whole being was consumed in foxfire. Despite Tomoe’s assurances that they couldn’t burn her from the inside, that they wouldn’t do that to their mother, their yokai energy still felt potent. Between the ache and the hormones, she couldn’t help the sudden emotion that crashed over her. Her chin quivered, a whimper catching in her throat, and then her tears spilled over. She felt his hands freeze.

“Feel so awful,” she croaked out.

Poor Nanami, he thought, watching her crumble before his very eyes. She was in so much pain. “It will be all right,” he said softly, then rose from the couch to kneel by her side. Gently, he laid a hand on her belly, sensing the heat pouring off of her. Their cubs were causing her great discomfort, he thought with a grimace. But there was nothing he could do about the fact they were very powerful ayakashi. “We will find something to make this more bearable. If the human doctor cannot help you, we will go to the World Over Yonder. We will find a solution.”

Here, he leaned in and kissed her swollen belly, still caressing it with one hand. He’d hoped to relax her, that some affection would help, but then she hiccuped. And in the next second, a sob caught in her throat. Eyes wide, he lifted his head to look at her face, catching the tears streaming down her cheeks. Pregnancy wasn’t this hard for yokai, he thought, his ears lowering. He gently rubbed her stomach, wishing just by touching her he could take her pain away.

“It is all right,” he said again, although his voice was tight, anguish tracing his words. “You will be just fine.”

No longer keen to sit there silently, she laid her hand over his, pressing it lightly to her stomach. She had to remind herself this was worth it. “I’m sorry,” she croaked out, sniffing and snorting. “I know you’re excited. It’s not like I’m not excited… It just really hurts sometimes.”

“I know,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her stomach. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No…” She sniffed, reaching up with her free hand to wipe her eyes. It was only because she was so emotional that she told him, “I’m never gonna get pregnant again, so don’t even ask me.”

His ears laid back, and he gazed at her worriedly. “That is the furthest thing on my mind right now. You are my priority.” Because he was still on the floor, he kissed her belly slowly, and then her hand. “If you do not want another litter after this, then we will not have one.”

This terminology wasn’t foreign to her, but it still drew a shaky laugh from her, allowing her to smile through her tears. Her cheeks felt cold. “Thank you.”

Although it had been a statement in the heat of the moment, she felt strongly about it now, recognizing it was how she felt. Two children were enough. If it hurt her this badly at just five months into her pregnancy, she didn’t even want to know how much worse she’d feel as she progressed.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m gonna die,” she moaned, lamenting.

Eyes wide, he shook his head. “Do not say such things. You will not die. The doctor said that this is natural.” 

As he spoke the words, a twinge came to his chest. He clung to those assurances, to the charts and after visit summaries, to every scrap of scientific research he could get his hands on. But no matter how many times he heard it, no matter how many times he said it, that niggling voice in the back of his head never went away. That voice that told him everyone was downplaying her symptoms, because they couldn’t see her like he could.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her the best he could, adopting a soothing tone. “It is difficult for a human woman to carry yokai children. That is all.”

“That’s all?” she snapped. But then she watched his ears lay back, something upset and panicked in his eyes, and she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It just hurts so bad.”

“I know.” Shutting his eyes, brow furrowing, he carefully laid his cheek against her belly, his ear pressed to it. The sound of his cubs’ heartbeats soothed him. It would be worth it, he told himself. She knew that too. “Some day, this will all be a distant memory. We will be happy together. It is hard right now, but I swear you will be happy again.”

“It’s not that I’m not happy,” she said, laying a hand on his head, exhaling shakily. 

She stroked his hair, watching his face, noticing how concerned he looked. But he continued to hug her around the waist, to nuzzle her belly. He was listening to their cubs again, she realized, a faint smile flickering over her mouth like a ghost. She sifted his silky, silver hair through her fingers, brushing the pad of her thumb over the base of his ear.

She added, “I just don’t wanna be in pain anymore.”

“It will pass.” Feeling her gaze on him, his eyes fluttered open, locking on her. “If I could take some of your pain from you and bear it for you, I would.”

Unlike just anyone who’d provide such words as lip service, she knew Tomoe meant it. He’d proven it again and again. In the months since she’d returned, he’d been so attentive, so affectionate, so doting. He’d supported her at home, had cooked her meals, had drawn her baths, and given her massages. He waited on her hand and foot whether she liked it or not, and while at times she’d gotten irritated over it, anytime she’d been stricken by nausea or weakness, she’d been grateful for him.

“Thank you,” she said, running her fingers through the shorter strands of his hair. Momentarily, she was silent, sucking in a sharper breath as a pang rippled through her middle, drawing a strained moan from her. 

“They are kicking,” he told her, a sad smile playing on his lips. “That is what causes you so much pain.”

“But why? It shouldn’t hurt,” she complained.

“They are foxes. And they are developing their powers. It cannot be helped.” Tomoe kissed her belly, then rested his cheek against it again.

“I know I’m a human,” she mumbled, “but I kinda hope that they’ll develop faster so I can be done with this pregnancy thing. I’m so over it.”

“I am afraid that is not how it works,” he sighed. “You are still a human. Your body will still react as a human woman’s does—” The resulting glare shut him up. The ear that wasn’t pressed to her stomach lowered sideways. “I’m sorry.”

A sigh pulled from her, and her hand found his ear again. She stroked the base of it, fondling it affectionately. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so annoyed with you. It’s not really... with you, you know? It’s just...everything irritates me right now.”

“I know. It is all right.” He watched her face as she shut her eyes again. Her hand continued to absentmindedly work his ear. Blinking lazily, he shut his eyes as well, basking in the attention, in the warmth of her body, in the energy of his cubs. “Hold on a little longer. It will be over soon.”

To this, she said nothing — only hummed. The pain was beginning to pass. Now she just felt tired — so tired that she couldn’t keep her head up. Sinking lower down the couch, she found a comfortable position, and he adjusted to follow her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she continued to pet his ear until she couldn’t stay awake any longer.

When she fell asleep, her hand stilled on his head, and he nuzzled her. They only had to endure four more months, he thought. They were over halfway there. Hopefully, she’d keep her sanity. But her frail condition nagged at him.

He listened to her breaths deepen and even out, listened to their cubs’ heartbeats tick steadily. How fragile, he found himself thinking, almost in wonder. And yet these two unborn cubs already possessed more power, more life energy, than their mother did. What would become of them, of Nanami, as time went on?

He squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled heavily. He couldn’t think of it now. Tomorrow was a new day, a new chance to challenge these thoughts which had consistently cropped into his mind ever since she’d returned. But here, in this moment, she was safe in his arms, warm and breathing, safe and sound. He’d protect her and their children for always.

—

Despite a lengthy nap and turning into bed early that evening, come the next morning, Nanami didn’t feel much better. She threw up after eating only a few bites of rice porridge, and then spent the next twenty minutes dragging herself through her morning routine. She had to get herself together, she thought as Tomoe helped her put her shoes on. Not only did they have to go to the clinic, but she also had to work that afternoon. And she had no idea how she was going to make it through.

Thankfully, by the time they got onto the train, she was feeling minimally better. They arrived at her appointment without incident and, after the routine check-up, she was left to lie on the table while they waited for the ultrasound technician. Tomoe had accompanied her to a few of these appointments already, which she was grateful for, because she wasn’t just excited — she was also wracked in nerves, ever waiting for the other shoe to drop. Right now, he held her hand, sitting by her side as quiet support. She’d never been so thankful for him.

The technician came in and, after the initial greetings, sat by the table. Nanami bunched up her gown, glancing at Tomoe, who said nothing. But he held her hand tighter, likely sensing her apprehension.

As the technician spread the jelly over her stomach, making her flinch, she said, “We can find out the babies’ sexes today. Do you want to know now, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“I want to know,” she blurted out. Then, realizing Tomoe might not feel the same way, she stole an anxious glance in his direction. “Is that okay?”

Up until now he’d remained silent, but it was clear she wanted his opinion. “Of course,” he said. 

Truthfully, if she’d said no, he would’ve demanded to know separately. He couldn’t stand it. As the technician set up, he lifted her hand and stole a furtive kiss, lips brushing her knuckles. When she shot him a look, he just held her hand at his mouth and smiled over it, teasing her.

Nanami would’ve complained, but that thought was chased right out of her head when the technician pressed the wand to her stomach. She jolted slightly, surprised since she’d been distracted by Tomoe’s mischievous stare, but then she relaxed. Smiling wanly, she threaded her fingers with his, and then turned her head to look at the screen.

After a moment, the technician found the twins — and Nanami’s mouth went dry. It was obvious by the technician’s calm demeanor that Mikage’s powers had worked and she couldn’t see their fox-like features, but Nanami could make it out — two cubs with little ears and tails. She bit back a small squeal, her discomfort forgotten. They were just too cute. Excitement replaced her misery, and she snuck a glance at Tomoe, finding his eyes shining, his lips parted but no sound coming out. She caught a hint of his fang showing, and she grinned at him, coughing slightly before she turned her attention back to the screen.

Even though they’d seen their cubs before, they were much more developed now. And seeing their little tails and ears developing melted his heart. They seemed more real to him now. To think — he’d waited five hundred years for this… It made this moment all the more special. His heart fluttered, and he squeezed Nanami’s hand, filled with love for her and a deep attachment, an adoration, for the two little cubs on the screen.

The technician’s voice tore them from their thoughts. “Looks like we have a boy here.” She pointed to the cub on the left and then, as though he had heard her, he wiggled slightly.

Nanami flinched, but the sting her son inflicted on her was nothing compared to this revelation. It made it so much more personal, made her feel that much more in love with him. “We’ll have to think of boys’ names—” she began, then stopped herself, noticing Tomoe’s glazed eyes as he stared at the screen. “Are you going to cry?”

He snapped himself out of his reverie, out of that singular thought — he’d have a son. “What? No!” Although, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t emotional, he mentally tacked on. He frowned, but she just smiled at him wryly, her eyes sparkling.

“Hm.” The technician frowned, and Tomoe’s heart jolted. Was this bad? “It’s hard to tell here with the second twin — the umbilical cord is in the way.” She pointed. “Let’s see if we can get a better look.” She adjusted the wand, the image on the screen distorting momentarily.

Perhaps it was their luck because, in that moment, the babies stirred, kicking, and it was just enough movement for them to see. Nanami couldn’t tell what they were looking at, but it didn’t matter — she didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl or anything in between. As long as their cub was healthy.

“Oh, they’re fraternal twins. You’re having a little girl too!” The technician pointed, and Nanami bit back another squeal.

“That’s great! Because I’m not having any more kids—” She stopped, stealing a glance at Tomoe. “Sorry.”

“Why would you apologize? I am over the moon.” He clutched her hand, bringing it to his chest, smiling so hard his face hurt. “I have never been so happy. I am glad we are having a son and a daughter.”

Giggling, Nanami teased, “You’re gonna spoil them rotten. Just like you spoil me.”

“Oh, come now, I will raise them just as we discussed,” he griped. “I will not let them run rampant.”

“I hope not, especially if they take after their father.” She smirked at him. “My wild fox.”

“Shush,” he chided. 

Even so, he chuckled, shaking his head. Of course the technician would have no idea what they were talking about, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her bringing that up. It would be karma for their children to take after his ways. Then again, they were only foxes, after all. There was no retribution in one’s innate nature. 

Shutting one eye, lips twitching in amusement, he added, “Let us only hope that they are not too wild.”

“Hm, but they have it in their genes,” Nanami teased, smiling softly up at him. “I don’t mind. I married you, didn’t I?”

At this, Tomoe only hummed a laugh, then brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it. His eyes drifted back to the screen as the technician moved the wand around, checking their cubs’ development. It was amazing to think that such small creatures could’ve developed so much in five months. He’d never seen anything like this before. It felt sacred, almost like a feat only the gods could manage, and yet he and Nanami — a yokai and a human — had created something new together. Something that would remain as a part of them from now on.

Although he would’ve liked to stare at them forever, to watch in delight as they moved and kicked every so often, the appointment came to a close. The technician printed out a photo for them to take back, one that Tomoe immediately snatched for his own safekeeping. This earned him a pout from Nanami, but he ignored it, his heart overflowing.

As soon as they checked out and Nanami got a prescription for an anti-nausea medication, they left. Tomoe still had a hold of that picture, and Nanami could see his fangs as he grinned, so smug. If his tail had been showing, he would’ve been swishing it for sure, she thought, side-eyeing him. A small laugh left her, and she caught his arm, threading hers through it and squeezing it.

“You sure look happy. Like a proud father.” She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, peering up at him.

“What? I am not permitted to be proud? I am very proud.” He beamed, holding up the picture again. “Look — they are perfect.”

As he all but shoved it in her face, she giggled, taking it from him while he was distracted. “Yeah, they’re mine too.” This earned her a scowl, and Tomoe reached for the picture. She held it away from him. “I want to look for a second! Just wait!”

“Fine.” He acquiesced, glancing at her every now and then as she stared at the picture, eyes wide and shining with awe. “They are pretty cubs, are they not?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, a blush coming to her cheeks, her eyes halfway shut and dreamy. “You’re right — they are perfect.” They paused at a crosswalk, and she shoved the scan back in his face, then pointed. “Look at their cute little ears! They’re so tiny!” A small squeal bubbled in her throat. “I just wanna squish them; they’re so cute!”

“Hm, I was thinking more that I would hold them and never put them down. Squishing seems extreme.” He smirked.

“You know what I mean! It’s just an expression!” Playfully, she hit his shoulder.

“Well, at least someone is feeling better. I am glad.” The light changed, and he escorted her across the street, continuously checking both ways, vigilant. One could never trust people, after all. “I was worried about you this morning. You were quite ill.”

“I know, but the doctor wasn’t worried, so that’s a good sign, right?” She offered a smile, hugging his arm.

“Yes,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction.

As they trudged down the sidewalk together, his thoughts drifted back to her wellness visit. While nothing had been wrong, per se, the doctor had urged her to up her intake of both food and fluids, which had led to the conversation about her nausea. If this kept up, she wouldn’t be able to maintain enough nutrients, he thought, flicking an anxious glance down at her. She remained oblivious to his concern, instead peering down at the ultrasound photo, a dreamy smile on her face. She was sharing her precious life energy to keep his cubs alive without a single thought to her own condition. But who was looking out for her?

He didn’t like to think about her mortality. He didn’t like to think about how easily things could go wrong. At a time, he’d been optimistic, proud, naive. But after losing her the first time, after living without her, he didn’t want to think about a world she no longer inhabited. Not to mention, they had two more souls to nurture and guide — two more souls who would lean on them, depend on them, look to them for love and safety. How would they feel if — no, when — they lost her too?

There wasn’t much he could do in the moment — other than urge her to take better care of herself. So he turned towards her, clearing his throat. “It is lunchtime,” he pointed out, “and you have hardly had anything to drink today. Perhaps we ought to find a cafe with something you can stomach.”

At the mention of food, her stomach simultaneously growled and clenched. She swallowed hard. “Ugh, I dunno if eating out is such a good idea,” she said.

“I know, but you were throwing up profusely this morning. The doctor said you need fluids.” He reached out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “At least get something to drink while I pick up your medicine. Let’s see how you feel after you take your pills. Perhaps you are so nauseous because you are so empty.”

She swallowed thickly, her free hand fluttering to her stomach. “Maybe,” she murmured. “I guess it can’t hurt. I should drink something with my medicine anyway.”

“Good.” He nodded once. “And if you feel ill, I will find a way to bring you right home.”

Fortunately, the pharmacy wasn’t but a few blocks ahead. He found a cafe situated a few doors down from it, and so he led Nanami towards it, stopping before the entrance. “If this suits you, then I will leave you here. I will not be gone long, my love.”

“Okay.” She offered a smile, then tucked the ultrasound picture safely in her bag. Retrieving her wallet, she asked, “Do you want anything?”

“You know what I like,” was all he said. He started to retrieve his wallet, but she shook her head. He frowned.

“Please let me do this while I can. I want to feel like I’ve contributed something.” She held her wallet to her chest, staring up at him.

A long sigh. “Very well.” He didn’t have the energy to protest, nor did he want to stress her out unnecessarily. “All right. Go sit. I will be back in a few minutes.” With that, he accepted her nod as a promise, and then he stalked off to pick up her medicine.

She entered the cafe and went to the counter to order drinks for them both. Since she needed to drink fluids, as he’d said, she ordered a smoothie with ginger and coconut water and a cup of water on the side. For him, she ordered his favorite matcha tea. Then, she took a seat, waiting for him to return, lost in her thoughts.

Perhaps Tomoe hadn’t addressed it outright, but she knew her condition worried him. It had scared her too — back when she’d been living five hundred years in the past. Living in the modern age again had given her more peace of mind, especially since she no longer felt that magnetic pull which made her feel like she’d disappear at any time. And yet he still seemed on edge, quick to dart to her side at any sign of discomfort, fretful and anxious and even overbearing.

Well, she thought, taking a delicate sip of her drink, she supposed she’d be anxious if she’d lost him too. He’d carried a much greater loss, endured a much heavier trauma, than she had as far as that was concerned. It was a wonder he didn’t follow her everywhere she went.

Truthfully, she had moments of weakness as well. After all, she’d been sick every day, and working had taken a toll on her body, even if it was a limited and temporary position. It was a lot more difficult than she’d bargained for, she thought with a grimace. Even in her better moments, even when she wasn’t feeling nauseous, she was far too drained to push forward.

It made her wonder if she could really keep this up. And it also made her wonder if she was putting her cubs’ health at risk by forcing herself to keep staggering onward, putting one foot in front of the other just like she always had.

Here, with him, there was no need to do that anymore. They had more than each other — they had the support of Mikage and the shrine spirits too. Perhaps with all the extra help, she wouldn’t work or worry herself to an early grave, like her mother had. The very thought made her swallow hard, touching light fingertips to her stomach. No, she would make sure her own children never faced the same fate she had.

As the bell at the door jingled, she was torn from her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Tomoe with a small paper bag. He approached and took the seat across from her, passing the bag over the table. She accepted it and opened it, finding the bottle inside.

“Thanks,” she said, twisting the cap open and shaking out a pill. She took it with a sip of her smoothie, then passed him his matcha tea. “Here.”

With a small murmur of gratitude, he took the cup from her and brought it to his mouth. “I take it you are able to keep liquids down?”

“I think so.” She traced a finger down the side of her plastic cup, trailing through the condensation until it formed little droplets. “But I think I should probably go home after this. I have to work later and…I didn’t sleep that well last night. I don’t wanna push my luck.”

A hum vibrated in his throat, and he cupped his chin in his palm. Push their luck. It felt like that was what they’d been doing all along, tripping along the pathway laid before them, stumbling through any deviant trail they came across to avoid each new obstacle blocking their way. Were they gambling with her life? Sometimes, when the cracks showed in her facade like this, he thought they just might be.

“Nanami, are you certain you wish to continue this job?” he asked. When she blinked, confusion creasing her brows, he amended, “Is this what you want for your future? Your dream?”

“I mean, not this particular job,” she admitted. “I’d like to teach during regular hours.” Her eyes dropped to her cup. “It’s okay. It’s just a stepping stone, you know? You have to start somewhere.”

They had started over and over more times than he could count, Tomoe thought. Her lack of enthusiasm wasn’t lost on him, either. While she’d fought for it in the village where they’d previously lived, he didn’t sense the same fire he had from her back then.

“You have already explained that the job was only a means to an end,” he said, frowning lightly.

“Then why do you ask?”

He turned to stare across the open space, out the large floor to ceiling windows, his elbow leaned on the table. “I wondered if it would be better to take leave now.”

Recalling his displeasure over her accepting the job, his comments the previous day about wishing she wouldn’t push herself so hard, she asked, “Are you asking me to quit my job?”

A sigh left him, and he faced forward to meet her gaze, reaching for her hand. “Yes, but it is more than that, my love.” With no regard to what anyone around them might think, he brought her knuckles to his lips. “I will always support your dreams, but I worry for your health.”

Hearing him say those words aloud after her own mind had started to go dark places did her no favors. She uttered a humorless laugh, clasping her fingers around his, gripping his hand. “You and me both,” she found herself saying, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Then you are in agreement?”

To this, she hesitated, but he continued to hold her gaze, capturing her with his deep, amethyst stare. “I am, but I’m also really torn,” she said faintly, her voice wavering. “I feel like…I’m at this crossroads and I don’t know what my path looks like anymore. This…job thing hasn’t really worked out like I thought it would, so…I’m just trying to figure out what’s next.”

“And could you not figure it out while you rested?” he probed, lacing his fingers with hers. When she only glanced at him, lips parted and forehead lightly creased, he added, “Normally, I would not push so. But I have never realized how fragile a human is. I am certain that carrying yokai does not help, but the doctors have said this is normal for a human.” A brief pause, and he squeezed her hand tighter, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, his eyes dropping to the table. “It was one thing to believe that you were simply in poor health, that we could improve it. But to hear that this is normal for humans…” He shook his head. “If there was a way to strengthen you, to extend your life and secure certainty that your health would hold… I would go to the ends of the earth to find it.”

At his downtrodden stare, the sagging slope of his shoulders pulling his frame down, she felt her heart tug painfully. Long ago, he’d told her that the difference in their lifespans was of no consequence to him, that he’d rather live out what little time they had together than never have had her in his life at all. But that was before he’d faced the reality of the situation. That was before he’d lost her, had lost their cubs. He’d seen what a future without her was like, and the hollowness in his eyes sucked her in until she felt like she’d been scooped out empty too. It haunted him.  

And if it haunted him so much…what would it do to their precious cubs?

Again, she touched her belly, her fingertips tender, trembling. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, couldn’t so much as blink, his expression burning itself into her mind, like a chisel on granite. Yokai weren’t like humans; they only loved once. And they loved so fiercely that they could never go back. Would the same thing happen to her dear children?

Would she even live long enough to see them grow up? A lump came to her throat, her mother’s face flitting through her mind. Or, at least, what she could remember of it. Her soft smile, her rosy cheeks, her warm voice… It blurred at the edges now, rippling past the reach of her tear-filled vision, eroded by time and heartache. No matter how she reached, how she grasped, she just couldn’t touch her, couldn’t make herself heard, couldn’t get through to her.

To think of her children going through the same thing was more than she could bear.

Maybe her life hadn’t panned out as planned, but they’d reinvented their dreams plenty of times before. She hadn’t put down solid roots in this world; she’d scarcely been back. And her family needed her. The realization struck her — she needed them too. So when the whim surfaced to her mind, her feelings burst and overflowed from her mouth, unbridled and thoughtless.

“What if I became immortal?”

He blinked. “What?”

By now, her heart thudded like a runaway horse, her breaths coming faster. “What if there was a way that I could live as long as you? I don’t know what that’d look like — if I’d have to become a yokai or a spirit or a god — but if there was a way, what would you do?”

“Nanami,” he gasped out, his eyes blowing wide. “Do not be so impulsive! Consider what you are saying.”

“I’m not just being impulsive. And I am thinking about what I’m saying,” she insisted. “I don’t know if there is a way, but I think we should look into it.”

“But…why?” His brow creased, a pang aching through his chest. “You were so desperate to escape the World Over Yonder. You were miserable. Why would you want to go back?”

“We don’t have to go back,” she said, her words picking up speed. “You’ve lived here this whole time, haven’t you? And you lived in the village with me years ago. It doesn’t mean I have to live in the spirit world.”

His mouth flapped uselessly, and then he sighed, flicking his gaze around the interior of the cafe. “I suppose…that is fair, but you felt very alone back then. I thought you were happiest with humans. I thought you wanted to teach and build a school.”

“I can still teach,” she pressed, leaning forward slightly. “It doesn’t mean I’m giving up on anything. And…I don’t think I’d be any different. It’s just changing my body a little, right?”

How she could be so nonchalant about it, he didn’t know. He’d seen what she’d gone through. He’d held her in her darkest hours, when she’d been crying in despair. He’d witnessed the after effects, the scars — both physical and emotional. And to think she could still entertain entering a world which had hurt her so much?

Sure, it wasn’t the same as working at the brothel. It wasn’t the same as living in the World Over Yonder. But he wasn’t sure he would’ve been so eager if he’d been in her shoes.

“We don’t even know if there is a way,” he said, attempting to maintain the voice of reason.

“Then we’ll ask Mikage,” Nanami continued, undeterred. “C’mon, Tomoe. It doesn’t mean we’re going to do it. It just means we’re exploring our options.”

He chewed at his lower lip, gripping her hand until she winced. Only then did he slacken his hold. “Sweet wife,” he said, keeping his tone gentle. “I am glad you are taking your health more seriously. But promise me you will think about this. Ensure it is what you want.”

“And if it is what I want?” she probed.

“Then I will support you,” he replied without missing a beat. “I only wish for you and our cubs to be healthy and happy. That is my priority.”

“And taking care of you and our kids is my priority too,” she pointed out. “This would be good for all of us, Tomoe. We wouldn’t have to worry about being apart. We could take our time figuring out what works for us. And…we’re not alone or anything. We’re starting over anyway so…isn’t this the perfect time to do it if we’re gonna do it?”

“I…suppose so. As long as you don’t have to sacrifice the kind of life that makes you happy.” He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “In the meantime, what will you do to safeguard your health? Will you rest?”

In the past, she’d dug her heels in. She’d insisted that she could keep working, that she could keep pushing herself to be someone reliable, that she could get the job done. Now, however, she did no more than fill a replaceable slot at one of many schools. She didn’t have to make the money to keep herself afloat. She didn’t have to break her back to survive. And as long as she gave ample notice, she wouldn’t place an undue burden on others’ shoulders.

It was time to pivot once again. And it was time to put herself and her family first.

“I’ll put in my notice,” she said. “And then I’ll talk to Mikage after I think about it some more.”

His eyebrows shot up. Although Nanami had made considerable progress, for her to give in so easily shook him to the core. Yet there was no hint of fear or stubbornness in her eyes; she gazed at him steadily, matter-of-fact, as though this was the most sensible decision in the world. She was grounded. And that meant they were on the same page.

“You will rely on me?” he asked, lighting gentle fingertips to her wrist, stroking her skin affectionately.

Here, she nodded, a smile spreading over her face. “Yes, I will,” she said, just above a whisper. “I know I can trust you, Tomoe. And I know when I’m ready to get back up, you’ll help me get there.”

“Of course! This is only a pause,” he agreed. “You are still getting used to the modern era again.”

Smiling, she nodded. This time, she was the one to take his hand, clasping it. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. Thank you for taking care of me when I’ve been so sick. You have no idea how helpful it’s been.”

“That is what I am here for.” He used his free hand to lift his tea cup, then paused right as the rim brushed his lips. “After all, are we not together in sickness and in health?”

“Yeah.” Her shoulders relaxed, the tension leaving her body. “Thank you. You’re a wonderful partner.”

Instead of replying with words, he only shot her a warm smile over the edge of the cup. Then, he took another drink, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Chapter Text

That very same afternoon that Nanami made the decision to step back from her job, she drafted a resignation letter, giving her two weeks’ notice. While she’d half expected it to feel like conceding to defeat, when she handed it in to her boss, she felt a sense of lightness, like she was a feather floating airily on a spring breeze. To not have to hustle, to not have to push herself past her limits, was such a relief; she felt like she could breathe, like she could truly rest, for the first time in months.

Just having an end in sight made her days much more bearable, and the following two weeks passed by in the blink of an eye. One day, she woke up of her own accord in her and Tomoe’s bed, and the silence hung thickly around her, undisturbed by the shrill sound of her alarm. She sank farther beneath the blankets, shut her eyes, and relished the tranquility, embracing this opportunity to rest her weary body. In that moment, she knew that she’d made the right decision.

After two hours of dozing on and off, she eventually rose and headed for the kitchen. Her bones ached, and her stomach felt slightly queasy, but she didn’t want to spend all day in bed either. There was nowhere she had to be, though, so she could take her time, she thought, swallowing one of her anti-nausea pills to get ahead of her morning sickness. Since she wasn’t quite hungry yet, she simply prepared a cup of herbal tea and then stepped out onto the veranda to sit in the sun, wrapping herself in a blanket. Maybe the weather was relatively warm, but she didn’t want to risk catching a cold.

Just as she’d settled in, the tap of footsteps came behind her, and then Mikage appeared in her peripheral vision. She flicked her gaze up to meet his and offered a warm smile. “Good morning,” she chirped.

A soft smile played on his lips. “Good morning, Nanami-san.” He paused, then asked, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Oh, not at all!” She scooted over slightly to give him room, then brought her cup to her mouth. “It’s a pretty day, isn’t it? I could use some fresh air.”

Mikage settled on the veranda next to her, releasing a contented sigh as he relaxed. “Yes, I’m glad we’ve been having such good weather. Actually, I saw it was supposed to be hot today.” Here, he glanced in her direction, and she caught the way his eyes swept over her. “Hopefully, the heat will help you feel more comfortable.”

His concern drew her attention to the blanket she’d wrapped herself in, and her cheeks flushed. Vaguely, she wondered if he thought she was in ill health. “Oh, don’t worry; I’m not cold all the time or anything,” she insisted. “I’ve just had trouble regulating my temperature lately. The doctor says it’s hormones.”

At this, he hummed thoughtfully, nodding. “That’s a relief to hear. I know you haven’t been feeling well for some time.”

“Well, that’s just the way pregnancy is, I guess…” she murmured.

She blew over the surface of her tea, then took a tiny sip. Her eyes drifted over the scenery before them, watching the dappled shadows shift with the wind in the leaves and the butterflies dance amongst the vibrant flowers scattered like a carpet over the yard. But her mind had already started to question just how normal her experience was. At least she hadn’t thrown up today, but she was hyper aware of the pressure in her abdomen all the same.

Out loud, she admitted, “Honestly, I didn’t think it’d be this hard or anything, but the doctors say it’s normal and it’s my first time being pregnant, so…” She shrugged, laughing it off. “Just gotta get through it. Right?”

Perplexion creased his brow, and her heart skipped. “Normal or not, you’re still suffering,” he pointed out gently. “So I’m glad you’ve decided to take a step back and rest. It’s better for you and your babies.”

She turned her toes in towards each other, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. While Tomoe had expressed the same sentiment, she’d chalked it up to him being overprotective, overly worried for her well-being. That was how Tomoe had always been, she thought, chewing at her lower lip. However, Mikage seemed more level-headed. It wasn’t so easy to deny that she still worried when a third party told her the exact same things, all while remaining calm and collected.

“Yeah,” she said softly, her lips ghosting the rim of her cup. “I’m glad too. I just…want to get through this last trimester, you know? I’m hoping if I take it easy, it won’t be so uncomfortable, but… I don’t know. There don’t seem to be any answers.” With a sigh, she set her cup on the veranda, turning her full attention to him. “People come pray to you about their pregnancies and births, don’t they? So do you know a lot about it?”

“Well, yes, to some degree,” Mikage admitted with a sheepish little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Then do you know if this is really normal?” she asked, leaning forward slightly. “You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”

At this, he smiled wanly, then removed his glasses and pulled a cleaning cloth from his kimono. “It’s different for everyone,” he said. “Some people go through great discomfort. Others don’t. In the sense that people can bear healthy children even if it’s not pleasant, then…yes, it can be normal.” He paused, wiping the lenses one last time, then tucked his cloth away and perched his glasses back on his nose. Perhaps he sensed Nanami’s apprehension, because he offered her a stronger smile and extended his hand. “I’m guessing you want a more definitive answer than that?”

Blushing, she peered up at him through her bangs. “Yeah,” she admitted. “If you know.”

He brought his hand to her belly, but only let it hover. “May I?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” She offered a smile.

Gingerly, he laid his hand over her stomach, quiet for a moment. He held it there for several long seconds, his gaze gentle yet focused. She wondered if, as a god, he had some sixth sense that neither she nor Tomoe had, but although she was bursting to know what he felt, she remained silent for as long as he did. After a moment, he removed his hand, letting it fall to the veranda. He flashed her a sympathetic smile.

“I can see why they’re causing you so much discomfort,” he finally said. “Even this young, they’re very powerful ayakashi.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what Tomoe and I figured.”

She couldn’t help but notice that even though he’d asked her if she’d wanted a definitive answer, he didn’t provide one. Her nerves flared up, her heartbeat quickening. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, she thought. Unlike Tomoe, Mikage wasn’t the type to be so blunt. 

Attempting to calm herself, she took a sip of her tea and collected her thoughts. “I mean, it’s not as scary as it was when I first got pregnant, when I was still in the past…” she insisted, half to assure herself. “But sometimes I can’t help but worry. The doctors don’t know about them being yokai, or the effect their powers can have on me… It makes me wonder if they’re right when they say everything’s fine, or if it’s just part of this illusion, y’know?”

“Nothing is without risk,” Mikage said slowly, “but the doctors would still be able to tell if something was terribly wrong.”

“I just…don’t know if they’d be able to tell,” she murmured. “Or if they could even do anything about it. Not just because my babies are yokai but…”

Her thoughts turned towards her mother, towards the mystery illness which had claimed her life, the life of her grandmother, the life of her great grandmother. All within several years of their first childbirth.  

Fingering the edge of the cup, she whispered, “My family is cursed. It always happened after their first child, and no one has ever been able to figure it out. So I can’t help but wonder if I inherited the sickness too.”

As the words left her mouth, she felt her heart drop, her mood plummeting. She laid her hand on her stomach, gingerly caressing it, desperate for the warmth of her cubs to meet her fingertips. In the grand scheme of things, several more months was nothing, and yet so much could go wrong during that short time. All it took was weeks for a person’s health to decline. It was such a fragile thing.

Her thoughts drifted to what she’d promised Tomoe several weeks prior — how she’d assured him that she’d talk to Mikage about transforming her from a human to something beyond. Naturally, she’d kept this idea tucked in the recesses of her mind, only bringing it out to examine in the middle of the night when Tomoe was asleep and she couldn’t find slumber of her own. In the gaps and the lulls of her life, it surfaced again and again, this thought that she stowed away but which she hadn’t locked away. She wondered if now would be a good time to mention it to Mikage.

“I’ve been thinking about it lately,” she continued, albeit quietly, her eyes on the ground beneath her. “About my mother and how much I miss her… How much I want to give my kids the kind of life I could never have.” Her lips twitched in a sad smile, a bone deep ache entering behind her ribcage. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really capable of that. Like you said, nothing’s without risk, and things can change so fast…”

To this, Mikage hummed in acknowledgement, lifting his chin to stare up at the sky. “All very reasonable things to wonder about,” he agreed. “I don’t think there’s a parent in this world who doesn’t wonder if they’re capable. But…think about everything you have overcome, Nanami-san. You’re a strong person. Stronger than even you know.”

Her cheeks bloomed with warmth, and she brushed her hair back from her face, her fingertips lingering momentarily. “Thank you,” she said, just above a whisper. “I don’t doubt that Tomoe and I can tackle any hardship, but…there are some things that can’t be helped.” She blinked slowly, her vision wavering before her as a lump filled her throat. “Like…I can’t blame my mother for being cursed. She did what she could… It’s not like she wanted to leave me. When you get sick like that, you can’t help it.”

“And that is a terrible thing for anyone to go through, especially a child,” Mikage agreed, shooting a melancholy glance in her direction. “Of course it’s going to come to mind now that you have your own children to worry about. But you have to remember — you’re not your mother.” 

She dropped her useless hands to her lap, staring down at them, studying her slightly swollen fingers and the evidence of sweat tracing the lines in her palms. “I know, but I’m still afraid of it — getting sick like she did. Like my grandmother did. It’s been that way in my family as far back as anyone can recall. Even if the curse did somehow skip me, it’s not like I’ll be around forever. And…I guess I didn’t think about how slowly yokai aged until I met Tomoe again in this era.” She rubbed her upper arm, turning her head away. “I’m starting to worry that I won’t get to see my children grow up either. To think of how that would affect them… How it’d affect Tomoe …”

Just as the lump in her throat grew impossible to swallow around, her eyes stinging, a light touch fell upon her back. It coaxed a shuddering exhale from her, and then Mikage rubbed her spine up and down, soothing and slow.

“It hurt him so much,” she whispered. “And my children are yokai too. If they feel so strongly for their loved ones, if they’re more attached than humans are, then I can’t even imagine… I mean, if this is how I feel after twenty years about my mom and I’m a human, then how are they going to feel?”

Something troubled knitted Mikage’s brows together, though he continued to rub her back. “I can understand that fear. It hurt me to see what Tomoe went through too. But you and him bonded as soulmates — that’s different.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want him to go through that again.” She sniffed, her eyes watering. “It’s not gonna be easy for my kids either, even if it is different. I just want to be there for them, you know? I want to see them grow up and know they’ll be okay. I want to see all the things I wish my mom could’ve seen. And maybe…nothing bad will happen to them if I’m still around to help them.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her chin dropping to her chest. “That’s why I’ve been hoping there’s some way I can guarantee that.”

“There are no guarantees for any of us,” Mikage said gently, running his hand over the crown of her head. “But you’re young and strong.”

Her head snapped up, her tone cried out and punctuated. “It won’t stay that way!” Mikage’s eyebrows shot up, his expression startled. As her words died out, like the remnants of a shotgun blast, she exhaled in a rush, sagging in her seat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’ve just been thinking lately that the only way to keep my family together is if I could change myself somehow. If I could become a spirit too — and be immortal just like Tomoe.”

Alarm flashed over Mikage’s features, his eyebrows raising again. “Oh, dear,” he murmured. “Nanami-san, you don’t have to change yourself to be with Tomoe or raise your children. There are wonderful things about being human. It’s that ability to change and to embrace how fleeting the world is that makes you so special.”

“And it’s not like I don’t see that,” she retorted, her mouth tugged downward in misery. “I know how easy it is to lose everything. Even if I were to have that guarantee, I wouldn’t take it for granted, not even for a second. I’ve lost everything so many times… Tomoe has too. He doesn’t need to be human to see that. We’ve already had those experiences, so why does it matter?”

Slowly, Mikage nodded. “Of course Tomoe understands. Just don’t feel like you have to change to be with your family.”

“It’s not just that,” she said softly, a tremor underlying her voice. “It’s about the long-term picture. It’s about everyone’s well-being — mine too. It hurts to think about how lonely they’d be without me. I want to be there for them as much as they want me there too.”

For a moment, Mikage sat in silent contemplation, his hand falling to rest on the veranda. He frowned lightly in thought, his eyes trained on the landscape ahead of him. It made Nanami uneasy, and she shifted from one side to the other, sneaking sideways glances in his direction, trying to gauge what he thought. Just as she felt like she’d combust, he broke the silence.

“It’s admirable to think about other people’s feelings,” he said carefully, “but you have to consider your own feelings too. So tell me…” Here, he turned to look into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze knocking the breath out of her. “Is this what would make you happy too? Knowing you might one day separate from the human world?”

She swallowed hard, her mouth going dry. Of course he’d bring that up too. When she’d first met him, he’d told her that humans didn’t do well in the ayakashi world. He’d let her go despite those reservations, but he’d given her the option to come back if she wanted to live amongst humans again. Maybe he hadn’t pushed her in that direction then — maybe he wasn’t exactly pushing her now — but she could see the concern shining in his eyes.

She’d been miserable in those days. He’d known that too. But what he and Tomoe didn’t seem to be acknowledging was her circumstances.

“I appreciate your concern,” she said quietly, bowing her head in reverence. “But I’ll be happy no matter what, as long as I can be with Tomoe. I’ll be fine as long as we can build the life we want to have together.”

“Community is very important to humans,” he said delicately. “You might have your family, but the world around you will change.”

“And I’ve adapted before,” she retorted, lifting her chin, meeting Mikage’s gaze. “I understand what you’re saying, but I never fit in anywhere. Not in my past life here, not in the village five hundred years ago, and not in Kawagoe now.” She held Mikage’s stare, and her voice dropped to something fragile, threadbare. “Mikage… Neither Tomoe or I have any friends or family outside of the shrine. Maybe things will change, maybe people I know will pass away, but loss is all I’ve ever known. Just…a little stability. That’s all I want.”

Mikage’s face fell. “You have no extended family?” he probed gently.

Surely, he already knew the answer to that now, she wanted to say. But the way he looked at her made her mouth feel like cotton. He looked at her like she imagined a father might look at their child. Uneasy, she turned her head away, letting her hair hang in her face. A beat passed, and then she took a breath, shaking her head.

“Tomoe’s all I’ve ever had,” she whispered. “There’s no one else but him.” Here, she peeked through her bangs, sheepish, and she rubbed her belly. “My whole family is yokai. Except for me. And I know Tomoe will love me no matter what, but… I’m not like him. I’m not like our children. And I’m not asking to become a yokai — I want to stay me — but I am asking if there’s a way I can extend my life.”

For a painfully long moment, Mikage was silent. However, based on the concentration creasing his brow and the tension at the corners of his mouth, Nanami had a feeling he was considering her question. His expression didn’t bode well, though, she thought, nervously chewing on a hangnail. Would he tell her he refused to do such a thing for her and change her fate?

Eventually, Mikage heaved a little sigh. He blinked and adjusted his glasses, focusing his gaze on her. “There is,” he said slowly. “I don’t have the means to do it, but Ookuninushi could.”

Her breath caught, and she nearly knocked over her cup as she leaned in his direction. “Do you think he’d do that for us?” she blurted out, clasping her hands at her chest. “Can you ask him? Please?”

“Well…” Mikage chuckled nervously, scratching his cheek. “I could write to him. But I’m sure he would respond the same way I am — with questions about your intentions.”

A strained sound caught in her throat. “And I’ll tell him what I told you — that it’s for my family’s sake.”

“And you?” Mikage probed, gazing at her with gentle brown eyes, unblinking.

“And me too,” she insisted. “Mikage, I know I’m asking for a lot. I know I’m asking for my soul and fate to be set on a path I can’t turn back from. But I don’t think that means it isn’t meant to be. I mean, fate brought me and Tomoe together. I should’ve never even met him if I was meant to be an ordinary human, right?” Here, her eyes dropped to the veranda, her voice lowering. “Besides, I’ve never gotten a chance to live my life the way I wanted to. Something always happens. There’s so much I haven’t gotten to do yet, and I want to know I have the time.”

“Well,” Mikage said with a slight laugh, rubbing the back of his hair, “you have a point. You’ve already deviated from the fate of a regular human — more than once. What you’ve been through should’ve been impossible.” Here, his stare softened. “Maybe it’s part of the greater plan. Not even all of us gods understand it at times. But I can say one thing for certain — you and Tomoe are meant to be.”

Hope fluttered in her ribcage as a stuttered breath left her. She lifted her head, her eyes shining. “So…you believe in me?”

“I have always believed in you.” Mikage laid a hand on the top of her head. “And in Tomoe too.”

“Does this mean you’ll write Ookuninushi?” She sucked her lower lip in her mouth, her laser stare boring into him.

At this, he smiled and nodded. “Yes, I will write to him. I can’t give you any guarantees, but I think you’ve earned a conversation with him, at least.”

A cry of joy tore from her throat. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re most welcome.” Mikage dropped his hand from her head, smiling softly. Then, after a moment of regarding her with a gentle gaze, he rose. “I almost forgot — Tomoe said he wanted to show me the backyard. He mentioned a project he wanted to work on.” Here, he turned towards the doorway, but stopped just in the threshold, one hand lingering at the frame. “I’ll draft a letter this afternoon.”

“Okay.” Nanami flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Mikage. You’ve helped us so much. I promise to work hard and make the most of this opportunity.”

“Of course.” After exchanging a final smile, Mikage disappeared into the shrine, leaving Nanami to her own thoughts.

She drew her eyes to the clear, azure sky, a warm glow building in the center of her chest. When she’d first come back, she’d had so much trepidation around what she’d walked into, what this arrangement meant for her marriage to Tomoe. Now, however, she found herself relying on Mikage in some ways too. Apart from Tomoe, she’d never had anyone to rely on. Yet now that she’d experienced it — the calm steadiness of a guardian figure — she felt more deeply rooted than she had in a while.

This was where they belonged, she thought, bringing her cup to her lips. She would help out in the ways she could, in the ways that immortality afforded her, even if Mikage didn’t hold her in his debt. It wasn’t paying him back; it was giving just as she received. And she was sure that Mikage would love her and Tomoe’s cubs as much as any family would.

They’d stay here, she thought, watching the leaves rustle on the trees, the wind playing the windchime delicately. As long as Mikage welcomed them here, they would stay. And they’d raise their children in the safety and the sanctity of the shrine.

—

Nanami had intended to talk to Tomoe about Mikage’s offer to write Ookuninushi, but he spent the day out, running errands. It wasn’t until right before dinnertime that she finally caught him in the kitchen, laying vegetables out on the counter. Smiling, she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder. “I missed you today.”

At this, Tomoe’s ears twitched. What she’d said — referring to the shrine as home — wasn’t lost on him. And it was exactly what he’d hoped to hear her say. All afternoon, he’d been browsing shop after shop in the World Over Yonder, conducting research and comparing prices. Ever since he’d brought the idea of building a house on the shrine grounds to Mikage that morning, he’d been thinking of how to best present it to Nanami, but this gave him an in.

“I missed you as well,” he said, turning to kiss her head. “Did you get some rest today?”

“Yeah.” She loosened her grip and stepped back. “It was actually really nice getting to sleep in and everything. But I feel like I’ve been too lazy.” She clasped her hands behind her back and brought her gaze to the vegetables on the countertop. “Do you want some help with dinner?”

Knowing Nanami, she’d go crazy if she didn’t have something to do, so Tomoe nodded. “If you would, start by washing the vegetables,” he said, nodding towards the counter as he retrieved two cutting boards.

Relieved that he’d accepted her offer to help, Nanami grinned and selected the bok choy, then turned the tap on and began to rinse it. “What were you up to today?” she asked, deciding to ease into the subject.

“Primarily research,” he replied, withdrawing two knives from their block. “It occurred to me that we may not have ample room in the shrine once the cubs are born. So I have been doing some measuring to determine if an addition or another house on the grounds would be feasible.” He flicked his gaze to her, gauging her reaction, but she remained serene. “This is, of course, only an option. I did not want to come to you with the idea before I determined whether or not I could make it happen.”

That was just like Tomoe, ever practical, she thought with a little laugh, shaking her head. “So that’s what you were showing Mikage this morning?” When Tomoe shot her a sideways glance, hesitant, she tacked on, “He mentioned you were working on a project.”

“Ah. Yes.” Tomoe’s shoulders relaxed. He accepted the rinsed bok choy from her and placed it on one of the cutting boards. “I wanted to show him where I would like to build. Of course, I had to get his permission first before this was a possibility.”

“I get it,” she said, plucking a carrot from its bunch and scrubbing it with a vegetable brush. “This is Mikage’s shrine. You wouldn’t want to sound demanding.”

“Or presumptuous,” Tomoe added, slicing into the bok choy with his knife. “He has said we can stay here, but that is different from building an addition on his property.” He scraped the chopped bok choy aside and accepted the carrot as Nanami passed it to him. “Thankfully, he has given us his blessing. So I am investigating the affordability of building a house.”

She paused, turning her head to gaze at him, her eyes shining and her lips parted. He’d done it once before, she thought, reflecting on the first time he’d brought her up north, to that day he’d shown her around their new home. It had been beautiful, his handiwork immaculate, and he’d planted her an entire grove of cherry trees to shield their home and shroud it in delicate pink blossoms. At the very memory, her heart fluttered. How she’d missed that place. Maybe that house was gone forever, but they could build a new one, a better one, here.

As the cool water from the faucet ran over her hands, she blinked, nestling back into reality. The words blurted out before she’d had a chance to consider them. “It’s harder to build stuff now, isn’t it? You can’t just chop down trees. You probably need a permit or something. And there’s plumbing and electricity—”

“I am a yokai. I can do anything I put my mind to,” he interrupted, conviction rock solid in his tone. He leaned closer. “Or have you forgotten?” A wry smile twisted the corner of his mouth upward. “I may be a familiar now, but I am not any less powerful. Besides, Mikage can aid us in acquiring the proper permits.”

Slowly, she nodded, her stomach uncoiling. “He did help us with our marriage paperwork,” she said softly.

“Precisely. So do not worry your head about the details. The only thing I need from you is your input. This is a decision we must make together. And if you are not keen on it, then I will not pursue it. But if this is your dream too, then help me make it a home worthy of our family — our cubs.” He laid down the knife and took her hand, staring into her eyes. “Tell me what you want, Nanami. Whatever is in my power, I will do it.”

Just like that, he had her heart skipping a beat, a flush coming to her cheeks. “I would really like that,” she admitted aloud. “As long as it’s what you want too.”

“It is,” he said, without so much as blinking. “It is what I would like more than anything.”

“And Mikage’s really okay with it?”

“Yes. In fact, I think he would be delighted if we chose to stay with him,” Tomoe replied. He squeezed her hand. “I understand this might take some thought. If you need me to explain—”

“I want to stay,” Nanami blurted out. She curled her fingers around Tomoe’s hand, her brow creasing in earnest. “This has been your home for five hundred years, Tomoe. And Mikage’s your family too, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be easy for you to leave. And…I think we could all use the extra support from each other, right?”

At this, Tomoe gaped. He should’ve known that Nanami would jump in without a second thought. However, gazing into her warm, soft eyes, he knew it was anything but impulsive. That was something to admire about her — the fact that she could make such life changing decisions in the blink of an eye and mean it with her whole heart.

A smile scrawled over his face. “If that is what you want, then we will stay,” he agreed. Then, laughing once through his nose, he pulled her into an embrace, his ears relaxing, his tail swaying. “I am very much so looking forward to building a new home with you.”

Echoing his quiet laugh, Nanami looped her arms around him in return, holding him tightly. “I am too.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her dreamy, half-lidded gaze, his heart melting at the sight of her smile. How he longed to start this next chapter of their life together. To think of nesting in a cozy space of their own again, of their cubs running wild and free, their laughter filling the house… It warmed him from head to toe. And though it wasn’t what they’d envisioned when they’d first married, this outcome was better, because they were much less alone than they had been before.

Delicately, he brushed a hand over the side of her hair, ending by cupping her cheek in his palm. She leaned into his touch, her eyes never leaving his, the warmth of her blush burning through his palm. Her fingertips found the back of his hand, and her touch set his heart on fire all over again.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of their lives together.

But just as soon as he’d thought it, he recalled what she’d talked to him about two weeks prior, and his stomach somersaulted. Who knew how much time they realistically had together. He’d cherish every second of it, but it felt much too short. His eyes dropped to the small space between their bodies, his thumb catching the corner of her mouth. The damp press of her lips to the digit only just rooted him in the present.

She watched the smile fade from his mouth, and she swore the temperature dropped along with the weight of his aura. Although she tried to bring him back to her with a kiss, she could see the light leaving his eyes, something dull and lifeless taking its place. Before he could completely retreat within himself, though, she pressed her hand to the back of his, holding it close to her cheek, calling his name softly.

“Tomoe? What’s wrong?”

He blinked, swallowing hard. “I was only thinking…how very long five hundred years feels. And how very short this moment is…” he murmured.

Gingerly, she brought her hands to his face and framed his cheeks, pushing his head up so their eyes locked. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about the future,” she said, offering a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He turned his head and kissed her fingertips, his ears drooping slightly. There were a million things he could’ve said in response to that, but he swallowed each one of them. The last thing he wanted to do was hurry her, to coerce her, to use his feelings as a battering ram to change her life permanently. What they’d discussed about her lifespan wasn’t a petty matter; she needed to consider it carefully instead of making the the types of knee-jerk decisions she normally did.

When he didn’t respond with words, only kissing her, Nanami sighed. She patted his cheeks. “I know you don’t want me to leave you behind again,” she whispered, bringing his head closer, resting her forehead to his. “And that’s okay. It’s okay to want me to stay with you. I want to stay with you and the cubs too.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, and when he spoke, his own voice was a hoarse whisper. “I did not want to push you to a decision.”

“You’re not. Besides, I already made up my mind.” She brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones. “I talked to Mikage, like I said I would. He wanted to make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. And…I guess he feels like I am, because he said he’d write to Ookuninushi.”

At this, Tomoe’s eyes widened, his pupils rounding. “Ookuninushi?”

“Yeah. I guess Mikage thinks he’d be open to it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t ask him, right?” She nudged Tomoe’s nose with her own. “Please don’t worry anymore, Tomoe. I’ll do whatever it takes so I can stay by your side. My dream is to be with you.”

His anxious tail stilled, his heart pounding for another reason now. How he wished he had Nanami’s confidence in this matter. Perhaps Ookuninushi had let him off the hook in the past, but that didn’t mean Tomoe trusted him to grant a favor that hardly benefited the god. Yet if Mikage had faith in Ookuninushi, then perhaps there was more to this story than Tomoe was aware of.

“My dream is to be with you too,” he said quietly, lightly nuzzling Nanami’s cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Then let’s do whatever it takes,” Nanami said. “We’ve gotten this far. Think of how much we’ve overcome to be together. I’d say it’s meant to be.”

A slow smile spread over his face, and he let his eyes fall shut. “Because we decided it was meant to be,” he said.

To this, she only grinned and kissed him. Their fate was in their hands now. And a relationship like this? It was worth fighting for. Now their lives were fully in their control. She knew that as long as they had each other, they could do anything.

Chapter Text

The weeks passed by and Nanami and Tomoe fell into a routine, centered around building their new house. During that time, Mikage hadn’t received word back from Ookuninushi about their request, but he assured Nanami that the god of wealth was extremely busy, and it might be some time before they heard back from him. And though both she and Tomoe were anxious to have an answer as soon as possible, Mikage seemed so assured that they would receive a reply that it gave her enough comfort to move forward with their other plans. 

There wasn’t much she could do in the interim, but busying herself with the preparations, shopping, and planning helped distract her from any anxiety she felt. However, as her pregnancy progressed, so did her discomfort and lack of energy. And, by the final month, she could do little more than sit on the back veranda and watch Tomoe, relegated to the last thing she found she could do — which was to knit little caps to keep her cubs’ ears warm.

This particular afternoon, she was occupied with just that — switching her gaze between Tomoe’s figure flitting about the construction and the needles and yarn in her lap. The weather was mild enough for her to sit without a heater, her fingers only minimally cold, but not to the point they trembled. Although her seat on her cushion wasn’t the most comfortable, lately she hadn’t wanted Tomoe out of her sight, and being outside gave her a sense of calm too. She’d sit here as long as she could tolerate it.

A tap came at the doorframe behind her, and she tore her attention from Tomoe’s work on their roof to see who’d come outside. There, she spotted Kotetsu, who floated out carrying a tray complete with a teapot and clay teacups. He set it on the veranda by Nanami.

“Onikiri and I thought you might be getting cold,” he explained. “We made your favorite herbal tea.”

She placed the half-done cap and knitting needles in her lap, smiling widely. “Thank you. That was really thoughtful!”

As he poured her a cup, he added, “It looks like Tomoe-dono will be finished with the house soon. He’s made excellent time!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m really proud of him,” Nanami agreed, accepting the cup from Kotetsu and wrapping both hands around it. “It’s amazing what you can learn from the Internet these days! He figured it all out himself.”

“With your help, of course,” Kotetsu piped up.

“Yeah… A little bit of my help.” She smiled softly and brought the cup to her lips, taking a careful sip. Kotetsu remained at her side, but his head wasn’t directed towards the house Tomoe built; instead, she could feel his gaze studying her. It felt like he had something to say. “Is something bothering you?”

“Well…” He fiddled with the tray, an anxious tremor warbling his tone. “Mikage-sama mentioned we might have a visitor today. It is not usually a problem, but this is a most important god!”

Based on Kotetsu’s flighty mannerisms, Nanami wondered if perhaps he’d been advised not to tell her. Then that meant it could be Ookuninushi, coming to answer her request, she thought, her breaths coming faster. She sat up a bit straighter, her eyes wide.

“Is Ookuninushi coming?” she blurted out.

“Well…I am not supposed to talk about it yet,” Kotetsu answered in a wavering tone, bringing the tray up to cover the lower portion of his mask. “Please do not mention it to anyone else. Especially Tomoe-dono!”

At this, Nanami flicked her gaze across the yard, to where Tomoe descended a ladder to gather more shingles from the pile on the ground. “Shouldn’t Tomoe know about it? I mean, it involves him too, right? And he should be prepared. Y’know, emotionally.”

“Mikage-sama always has his reasons,” Kotetsu said vaguely. Before she could question him further, she heard Onikiri’s voice calling out for Kotetsu on the other side of the door. “I had better go inside to help prepare.”

Nanami’s brow creased. “Should I help?”

“No, but we will call if we need you!” Kotetsu replied. Then, he floated to the door and opened it, slipping into the shrine. Silence fell over the yard save for the sound of shingles scraping as Tomoe selected the next few.

Nanami’s stomach twisted, and she turned her attention back to Tomoe, her lips ghosting the rim of the cup. He lifted his head, and their eyes met. Unable to help herself, she flashed him a smile and a little wave, and his lips twitched with a smile of his own. Feeling the need to say something to bridge the gap, she called out, “It’s looking really good!”

Upon hearing her voice, Tomoe couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face, his heart soaring. He took in her sunny smile, her pink cheeks, her sweet gaze which warmed him from head to toe. She looked perfect, like she was a goddess, seated on the veranda of the shrine with a delicate blanket turned robe hanging from her shoulders, her belly round and protecting their cubs. Very soon, she would give birth, he thought, his mouth dry. It made his heart beat faster, to think that the cubs he’d longed for would soon join them. And their family would be complete.

But not everything was as he’d imagined it, even with the house, he thought, watching her smile at him, her cheeks dimpling. Back when he’d asked her to carry his cubs, he’d imagined committing to her and their family wholly, with his entire heart and soul. Yet later he’d pledged responsibility to this shrine and to another — to Mikage. Even if she no longer seemed to feel threatened by it, he felt antsy, a bit discontent. A part of him still felt tied and constricted in a way that no longer served anyone anymore, and he would’ve preferred to be more authentic, even with Mikage. He wanted to spend every second with his beautiful wife and his precious babies, to nurture them all, to give them the love and affection and security they so deserved. How could he be the best husband and father if he had to uphold an obligation to another cause?

Truly, with the birth of their cubs, one chapter of his life would close. And another was about to open. It was time to change the dynamic between him and Mikage, for the two of them to embrace each other as family and family alone.

Sighing, he set his tools down and decided to take a break. He crossed the yard to sit next to Nanami, hoisting himself up on the edge of the veranda. Immediately, she looped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his cheek. His eyelids fluttered, and he felt soothed, laying a hand on top of one of hers.

“Are you okay?” she asked, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You seem a little tired.”

“Yes, I am fine.” He nuzzled against her, brushing his thumb over the back of her head. 

She leaned her head against his in turn, and though her body felt fully relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to speak about his thoughts. Better not to roust her concerns again, he thought. Although he had to admit, he was still toying with the idea lurking at the edges of his mind, Mikage’s promise from five hundred years ago — to release him from the contract — echoing in his head.

It didn’t mean he would abandon Mikage, he thought, shutting his eyes and uttering a small sigh, leaning into Nanami’s form. He could still be there for him. He only wondered if they were ready for such a change now, if Mikage would agree to the timing of it, if the other gods would allow it at all.

Nanami’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey, you should take a break. Kotetsu said we were gonna have a visitor anyway.”

At this, his ears twitched, and he lifted his head, staring down into her eyes. “A visitor? I suppose it is someone important if it was worth mentioning?”

“Well…” She bit her lip, eyes sliding to the side. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I don’t agree that you shouldn’t know about it, so…” At the sight of alarm blowing his eyes wide, she couldn’t help but smile, albeit sympathetically. “Hey, don’t worry! I’m sure it’s nothing bad. I think Ookuninushi is coming by. Probably ‘cause I’d asked Mikage to write to him about extending my life. Remember?”

Slowly, Tomoe relaxed. As she brushed her palm over his cheek, he nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “I remember.” He pressed a kiss into the heel of her hand. “I fail to see why they would keep such a thing from me, however.”

“Maybe they thought you’d get too anxious about it?” She shrugged. “I thought you’d be more anxious if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm, that is true,” he murmured, lips grazing her palm. “I am glad that you told me.”

Inside, his mind was whirring. Ookuninushi was going to visit the shrine, and that could come to his advantage, saving him a great deal of trouble. Even if he wasn’t sure how things would pan out, how the god would react, it would be a lot quicker to inform him of this change while he was here. Still, it didn’t give Tomoe a lot of time to talk things over with Mikage first. And he owed his god a private conversation, if nothing else. After all, as Mikage had once told him, the contract was between the two of them. It was a very personal thing.

“How soon will he be here?” Tomoe asked Nanami, turning towards the door.

“I don’t know. Kotetsu didn’t say.” She watched him rise, his hand carefully slipping from hers. “Where are you going?”

He’d already taken one step towards the door when her words stopped him. “Inside, to speak with Mikage.” He laid his hand at the door. “I am going to ask him to release me from the contract.”

Her eyes bugged out. “What?” She attempted to get to her feet as well, but felt far too clumsy to do so. Luckily, he outstretched a hand to her, an offer she gladly accepted. He helped her to her feet and she brushed herself off. “This is kinda sudden!”

“Not as sudden as you might believe,” he replied. “Please do not misunderstand — I will always be grateful for what Mikage has provided. But our contract was sealed with the understanding that it could be dissolved one day, if I chose.”

She peered up at him, nibbling her lower lip. “And it’s what you choose? It’s not because I felt threatened earlier, right? Because you know I don’t need you to do that...I’m over it now.”

His gaze softened. “I know. It has nothing to do with your fears. I know that you have accepted it. And that you trust me. I can assure you that this is my choice.”

Stunned, she nodded. Still, questions swirled in her mind, and she was surprised to find her hands trembling, her heart pounding. At a time, she had wanted this more than anything, yet now, it only dredged up a thousand worries at once. After all, it had only been a few months since she’d come around to the idea, to a new dream of living together with Tomoe, Mikage, and the shrine spirits on the grounds as one family. 

“Then…do you want to leave the shrine?” she asked, her voice thin. 

She felt insecure again, he realized, blinking. And why wouldn’t she? All her life, she’d been uprooted again and again, the rug pulled out from beneath her, her plans and her dreams never static from day to day. To think that he might’ve inflicted that fear within her tugged at his heart painfully.

Placing a hand on her head, he murmured, “No, I hope to stay here. And I believe that Mikage will allow it.” He leaned his forehead against Nanami’s, staring into her eyes, softening his tone. “There is no need to worry, my love. Our plans have not changed. I will continue to work with Mikage, but as an equal. Not as a shinshi.”

Gradually, the chaotic thudding of her heart lessened, until it was only a slight drum in her chest. She exhaled shakily, a wan smile spreading over her mouth. “Are you sure that’d be okay?”

“I know Mikage — and you do too,” he pointed out. “He allowed us to stay in our time of need hundreds of years ago. He invited you to come back to the human world. And he offered a safe haven for us both in the present. He cares for us both as though we were his own children; he would not throw us out for a simple change of title. One that he had already promised, too.” He took her chin between a finger and a thumb, lifting it a little higher. “Have faith in him. He is a god of his word.”

Mikage had proven that much, hadn’t he? Nanami thought about his guidance, his hospitality, his willingness to adapt and offer a helping hand. He’d never had ulterior motives nor had he ever seemed to abuse his power. Maybe she struggled to believe someone’s words, but couldn’t she believe their actions?

Tucking a strand of unruly hair behind her ear, she nodded a bit. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding it for a beat before pulling back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will find Mikage before Ookuninushi arrives. If he is going to come anyway, I might as well inform him of my plans, to ensure my freedom and our safety.”

To this, she flashed him a weak smile. She didn’t know anything about Ookuninushi other than how he’d once attacked and then later exonerated Tomoe, and that Mikage believed he would help them. If Tomoe also felt like the past was water beneath the bridge, then perhaps she ought to have faith that Ookuninushi was reasonable and would hear them out too. After all, it seemed like he’d redeemed himself, like the gods had been instructed to leave him alone as a result, so that gave some indication as to whose side Ookuninushi was on.

“All right. I’ll be in our room while you do that.” Leaning forward, she touched her lips to his in a fleeting kiss, more to ground and assure them than anything else. She offered one final smile, patting his cheek, then followed him inside the shrine, where she split off to go down to the basement.

He watched her go until she disappeared past the doorway and he heard the basement hatch swing open. Once he was sure she was safely ensconced in their room, he headed for the inner sanctum, where he was sure he’d find Mikage. Just as he’d predicted, he found him sequestered away, poring over a stack of ofuda. Tomoe paused at the slightly ajar curtain and cleared his throat.

“Mikage, I would like a moment of your time to speak with you,” he said, bowing his head ever so slightly, although he kept his eyes fixed on the god. Deciding not to mince words, he tacked on, “It is about Ookuninushi’s visit today.”

Here, Mikage lifted his head, a small, nervous chuckle erupting from him. “My, it didn’t take long for word to get around,” he said with a smile, adjusting his glasses.

“And why did you not tell me?” Tomoe asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Is there anything to hide?”

Mikage shook his head. “Certainly not. I just didn’t want to disturb you from your work on the house for a visit that Onikiri, Kotetsu, and I could handle.”

“Then does it not have anything to do with Nanami’s lifespan?” Tomoe prompted, arching an eyebrow.

With a tiny sigh, Mikage swept the ofuda aside and then gestured for Tomoe to sit across from him. Gladly, Tomoe took the invitation and entered the small, sacred space, settling down before Mikage as comfortably as he could. Once he’d tucked his tail around his hip, staring into Mikage’s eyes, the god broke his silence.

“It does,” Mikage said with utmost seriousness, his smile fading. “I never got a direct answer through our letters, so I wasn’t sure how the conversation would go. I didn’t want to worry you before I had a chance to appeal to Ookuninushi. I know how upset you can get.”

“Well. It would still do myself and Nanami good to know what we are facing,” Tomoe retorted, his ears pinning back and his tail thumping lightly. “After all, is she not the one who will have to appeal to Ookuninushi the most?”

“There is no doubt that she will have to answer his questions,” Mikage agreed, nodding solemnly. “But I had hoped to make it easier for her. Besides, she is so close to giving birth. I would not want to put undue stress on her. Or you.”

A small growl rumbled in Tomoe’s throat, and he shifted his gaze to the side. “I see.” The tip of his tail flickered, anxious. “Do you anticipate it will be difficult to get him to agree?”

“Well, no human has ever been made immortal before,” Mikage pointed out. “It’s not that it can’t be done; it’s that there has to be reason enough to do so. I suppose Ookuninushi wants to ensure it’s good for her and that it won’t have any negative consequences on the world either. It’s bound to set a precedent, after all.”

“There is a first time for everything,” Tomoe muttered under his breath. “And I believe that Nanami deserves it, after what she has been through.”

Again, Mikage nodded, his jaw flexing. “She has been through more than most humans. I would agree she’s a strong candidate for it. Now it’s about working out the details and making our case, which I think we can do.”

Knowing that they had Mikage’s support eased Tomoe’s tension, and he relaxed slightly. If anyone could convince Ookuninushi, he was sure Mikage could. After all, he’d worked wonders in the past when it came to sparing his own life — and keeping him out of prison. “Good. Then I suppose you will allow Nanami and me to get involved? It does affect us, after all.”

“I’m sure he will want to question her, at least, but I have to admit I’m not sure what you want to say to him,” Mikage said with a small chuckle, his cheeks flushing and his expression sheepish. “Of course, you’re welcome to talk to him — just let Nanami take the lead, since we have to ensure he believes it’s her choice one hundred percent, and not something you’ve set her up to do.”

Tomoe’s ears twitched. Of course Ookuninushi would consider such a thing, he thought, biting the inside of his lip in displeasure. “Naturally, I will let Nanami do all the talking on her behalf. I am not talking about that, anyway. I have another proposal for him concerning myself.”

Now Mikage lifted his eyebrows, a look of surprise flashing over his features. “Oh?”

This was it. Tomoe breathed in deeply, his heart thudding against his ribs. Although he was certain Mikage would grant him freedom if it was possible, there was something about the moment being upon him that left him breathless, tremors racing through his hands. For five hundred years, they’d maintained this status quo, had fallen into a routine, had lived and worked together as god and shinshi. And he didn’t know what the future held, but if there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was that change could be unpredictable and unsettling. 

He planted his hands on the floor and bowed, intending to show his gratitude, his respect, despite what he was about to ask. “I owe you much, Mikage. You have been a good master to me, and you have kept your word. Now that I have paid my debt for your kindness and you have agreed to compensate me for my services, I would like to ask for my freedom, fully and completely,” he said, his forehead pressed to the floorboards. Then, slowly, he lifted his head just enough to meet Mikage’s eyes. “I would like to be released from the familiar contract.”

A beat elapsed, and Tomoe held his breath, staring unblinkingly into Mikage’s eyes, his entire body thrumming with electricity, with nerves. And yet Mikage only gazed at him serenely, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. While it had never been a secret that Tomoe had wished for their arrangement to be temporary, he would’ve expected a little more surprise from Mikage. Perhaps Mikage had foreseen this, though, in that intuitive way in which he always seemed to sense change coming.

A single note chuckle left Mikage, and then he laid his hand on the top of Tomoe’s head, shutting his eyes. “There’s no need to worry, Tomoe. We can discuss it.”

Tomoe’s ears pricked up higher. “So you will consider releasing me?”

“Of course. It was my promise to you,” Mikage replied, letting his hand drop. “I only ask that whatever choice you make, you make it for yourself — and not from a need to preserve your marriage. So tell me — what makes you want to break the contract? What does your heart tell you?”

“That I would like to devote myself to family, not to mere duty,” Tomoe replied. “Do not misunderstand me, Mikage. I would like to keep living and working here at the shrine. I would like to stay with you. But I would like to do it for my family instead of out of servitude. I would like to devote myself wholly to them.” He dropped his chin towards his chest, his gaze falling. “And…if it is not so presumptuous, I would also like to include you as a part of my family moving forward too. I would like to change our relationship, so that I am no longer tethered to you as a shinshi.”

Mikage’s voice dropped, softening around the edges. “You don’t have to feel like you need to include me, Tomoe. I would release you under the right circumstances even if you wished to cut all ties.”

Here, Tomoe lifted his head, brows knitted together. “But it is not an obligation!” he shouted, conviction spearing his tone. “I have been very lucky to have become a part of your life, and to have you as a part of mine. It is more than gratitude. It is more than what you have given to me. I am not so good with my words, but I hope that you can feel what I mean.” He laid a hand over his chest. “I would like very much to keep you in my life. I know that Nanami feels the same.”

A smile spread over Mikage’s mouth, and he lifted his tengu fan, half hiding behind it. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you are building your house here,” he chuckled. “Thank you, Tomoe. It means a lot that you would say that. I would be honored to remain a part of your lives and to watch your children grow.”

“Then you will release me?” Tomoe’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he scarcely breathed, never tearing his eyes from Mikage.

“I will,” Mikage agreed. “Let’s inform Ookuninushi so no one’s surprised, but I imagine he’ll also agree that you’ve paid your debt and won’t give us any trouble. After all, he was there when I made the promise to you and he never contested it, even though the contract was a condition.”

Relief flooded over Tomoe, and his lips twitched in a smile. At last, his life was falling into place, as it should be. He bowed his head slightly in gratitude, his heart feeling lighter than ever, like a huge weight had been removed from his chest. “Thank you. I am forever grateful for your support.”

“Of course.” Mikage smiled and then slowly rose, still grasping the tengu fan. “Now if you’ll excuse me — I believe we’re about to have company.”

No sooner had Mikage finished speaking than a brilliant flash of white light flickered outside, followed by a clap of thunder, one so loud that it shook the entire shrine. Immediately, Tomoe sat up straight, his heart rabbitting, his breaths quickening. And one glance at Mikage confirmed it. Ookuninushi had arrived.

“Why don’t you go find Nanami-san?” Mikage asked, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Have her come join us. In the meantime, I will greet Ookuninushi and test the waters.”

Mouth dry, Tomoe nodded. He, too, rose to his feet, and then he separated from Mikage, heading the opposite way towards the basement hatch. It was no surprise to him when the hatch swung open, and Nanami emerged, wide-eyed and frazzled.

“What was that? Did lightning hit the shrine?” she asked, out of breath.

Crouching by the hatch, Tomoe shook his head. “No, it is our visitor,” he replied, offering his hand to help her up from the last step. “It would appear that Ookuninushi has arrived. Mikage has said that you may join us.”

Now that the moment had finally arrived, Nanami found her chest bursting with a thousand butterflies, her hands clammy. She gripped Tomoe’s hand, using it for leverage as she stepped onto the first floor, albeit clumsily. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then she slipped her fingers between Tomoe’s, letting him lead her towards the tearoom. Just outside of the door, they stopped, exchanging a glance, and Nanami swore her heart was in her mouth. Likewise, Tomoe seemed equally hesitant, his hold tightening around her hand. She had to be strong, she told herself, inhaling deeply. Calming those fluttering wings in her ribcage, she pasted a smile on her face and squeezed Tomoe’s hand.

“It’ll be fine,” she whispered to him. “I know it will be.”

A slow smile scrawled over Tomoe’s face as well. For Nanami to have faith in them boosted his own confidence, a confidence which had been wavering if only because he hadn’t faced the god of wealth in five hundred years. “Yes, it will all work out as it is meant to,” he agreed.

Together, they placed their hands on the door and slid it open. At first, it was just a crack, just enough to make eye contact with Mikage, who nodded towards them, wordlessly inviting them inside. Then, they opened it wide enough for them both to come through. There, in the tearoom, they found two empty cushions between Mikage and Ookuninushi for them, and so Tomoe helped Nanami sit on one of them before he shut the door for privacy.

“Good to see you again, Tomoe-kun,” Ookuninushi greeted with a warm smile. Then, turning to Nanami, his twinkling emerald gaze shrouded by his long blond eyelashes, he smiled wider. “Nanami-hime, I presume? It is good to finally meet you. I have heard wonderful things.”

At the honorific, Nanami couldn’t help but blush, a small laugh escaping her. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said, laying one hand on her belly out of habit.

“Well, let’s not waste any time, shall we? Mikage explained all about your predicament in his letter,” Ookuninushi said. “We were just talking about it, actually. I had hoped we would get a chance to talk too, so I’m glad you were able to make it with such short notice.”

His haste took her aback, but after furtively glancing at both Mikage and Tomoe, neither of them seemed surprised, so she supposed it was normal for Ookuninushi to be so frank. He was a very high ranking god, she reasoned. He probably had a million or more prayers a day. No wonder Ookuninushi would be in a rush to address this one, especially since he’d taken the time to meet with them in person.

“Yeah, of course! Thank you so much for hearing my request out,” she said, bowing as deeply as she could given her current state. Briefly, she felt like the cubs had crushed the breath out of her, leaving her unable to pull in air, so she straightened in discomfort.

“It is my pleasure. I am always happy to do a favor for Mikage. He has taken quite a lot off my plate, after all!” Ookuninushi flashed a grateful smile in Mikage’s direction. “Now…let’s get straight to business. Mikage said you wished to match Tomoe’s lifespan for the sake of your children. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” she replied, her heart beating faster.

“And why would you want to transform your natural human lifespan?” Ookuninushi probed. “Surely, you must’ve given immortality some thought. You must know how monotonous life can be when you live forever. There’s a reason humans forget their memories when they’re reincarnated.”

At this, Nanami swallowed hard. “I have thought about it, and I understand the downsides. I’ve seen what time has done to Tomoe emotionally,” she admitted. “But the thing is…I’m not an average human anymore. I haven’t ever fit in with other humans. And now my whole family — and my children — are yokai. Sometimes I worry I won’t be there for them like they need me to be because of my health.” She bowed her head slightly, her smile wavering. “When I was a little girl, my mom died from a family curse. She was a kid when my grandmother died too. It’s been that way for as far back as we can remember. And I know that yokai live much longer, so… I don’t want to leave my children without a mom. And I don’t want to miss out on their lives or leave Tomoe alone either.”

“That is fair,” Ookuninushi said, nodding sagely, rubbing his chin. “But, my dear, surely you know that’s not enough of a reason to transform someone’s soul. What you ask for is very serious. It is a prayer I have never granted before — and for good reason.”

“I realize I’m asking a lot of you just to stay with my family,” Nanami said, bringing her eyes up to Ookuninushi’s, holding his gaze with her determined one. “And I do want us to make many more happy memories together. But…it’s not just selfish. I’ve also made up my mind that I want to do whatever I can to help others. Whether that’s here at the shrine or with other humans… I want to find a way I can make a difference. I’ve been through so much and…and I think I should use my experiences to help others get better.”

“And that is quite noble!” Ookuninushi remarked, shutting his eyes and nodding. “But it’s a rather vague goal, don’t you think?”

For the time being, Tomoe had sat quietly, glancing from Ookuninushi to Nanami as they each spoke. Although he recognized why Ookuninushi pried, he couldn’t help but worry that Nanami wasn’t as prepared as she’d thought. He was meant to stay out of it, he reminded himself. But he couldn’t stop himself from giving her an assist.

“I have witnessed the lengths she has gone to in the past, five hundred years ago,” Tomoe piped up. “She had ambitions for how to help humans then too.” Here, he nodded towards Nanami. “Tell him how you had planned to make a difference. In the village we lived in.”

“Oh!” She closed her hands into fists, sitting up a little straighter. “It was a small thing back then, but… I was working on opening a school. One that everyone could go to, even girls,” she explained, holding Ookuninushi’s intense stare. “Back then, it was tough to get people to trust me because I was an outsider, but I wasn’t gonna give up. If I was only able to start with one kid — or even just my own children — I was going to prove that I could teach them valuable skills. That they could learn farming and trade and business… So they could improve their lives and make the village a better place to live too.”

This caught Ookuninushi’s attention. “So you have a knack for teaching?”

Nanami nodded. “I studied education in university. I always intended to be a teacher. It was my dream to give other people a chance. A chance…I didn’t have.” 

Her gaze dropped to the tatami mats as she thought about her own childhood, about the evictions and the scarcity and the homelessness. Just as quickly, her mind jumped to her desperation in the World Over Yonder, how she’d slept with and appealed to countless men just to survive. Her throat ached.

In a quieter voice, she continued, “If I could keep even one person from going through what I went through, from having to sell their body just to eat, then that would make everything worth it.”

Pride rose within Tomoe as Nanami spoke. That was the Nanami he knew, he thought with a soft smile, his tail swaying. Recently, she’d seemed to have lost her way and her dreams, just a little. But now with Ookuninushi before them, perhaps they could forge her future too. The possibilities were wide open when he was involved.

“You have been through things no human should go through,” Ookuninushi agreed, his gaze softening. “I don’t just mean the hardships in the human world. Those can serve a purpose, to a degree. What you went through in the World Over Yonder, with the red-light district, with Ikusagami, with the ayakashi who wanted to do you harm… You have already had your brush with the other world. And I believe that has given you some valuable tools now, too.”

Confused, Nanami stole a glance at Tomoe, but he only mirrored her expression. A look in Mikage’s direction gave no hints as to what Ookuninushi could be leading towards either. “I mean, I guess you could look at it like that,” she stammered, twisting her fingers in her lap. “I don’t think hardship like that can ever be justified because of a lesson, but…I get where you’re coming from.”

“And I don’t disagree with you either,” Ookuninushi admitted. “But…it is an unfortunate fact of life. Humans, gods, yokai… We all face tribulations at some point of our lives. It is unavoidable. But that’s why we have others — to help us through the worst of it, to help us learn and grow.”

“And what of those who have no families?” Tomoe interjected, lifting an incredulous eyebrow. “They have no support.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Tomoe-kun,” Ookuninushi said with a gentle smile. “The gods are always listening.”

Mikage sat up a little straighter, mouth curved downward. “Wait a moment, Ookununushi. Are you suggesting…?”

With a wave of Ookuninushi’s hand, he produced a rose, which he brought up to smell. “I have done my research since you wrote to me, Mikage. Nanami-hime is quite a remarkable person. To have influenced Tomoe, to have survived such fierce yokai with her cunning and wits and kindness, to have managed to carry such strong ayakashi children… And given how impossible it should’ve been for her to not only cross over to the World Over Yonder but to live there for so long, I think there is more to her story yet to come. She may be a human, but she is anything but ordinary.”

“So…what does that mean?” Nanami asked, digging her nails into her palms, her breaths shallow.

“It means, dear Nanami-hime, that I have a proposal for you.” Ookuninushi extended the rose towards her. “I will grant you immortality — but on the condition that you use this gift to change the world. And the best way for you to do that, is to give you the power to do that.” He paused, but his eyes never left Nanami’s. “I am offering to make you a kami.”

Tomoe’s jaw dropped. “A kami?” he blurted, his voice filling the room.

At the same time, Nanami gasped aloud, her mouth opening wide. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Ookuninushi, her heart racing, her hands shaking in her lap. If she hadn’t been sweating before, then surely she would’ve started now. “You want to make me a god?” she cried out, her head spinning.

“Oh, dear.” Quickly, Mikage poured her a glass of water from the pitcher nearby and placed it in her hand. Then, he laid his hand at her back, steadying her. “Just breathe, Nanami-san. We’ll talk about this.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not asking you to assume the same responsibilities as a major kami,” Ookuninushi explained. “You would only be a minor kami. It’s more like holding the title with a little bit of power sprinkled in. At least enough for you to work with. What you do with your power is up to you after that; you must choose your purpose and grow it on your own.”

His words barely made sense, but Nanami nodded anyway, her entire body encompassed in a hot flash. Tomoe must’ve noticed that she was about to faint, because he produced his fan, flipping it open and waving it towards her. The cool air combined with the water which Mikage guided to her lips helped ground her, helped stave off a round of nausea. And with both of them holding onto her, Tomoe with his hand in one of hers and Mikage supporting her back, she began to feel a little more stable. After all, she wasn’t in this alone.

“What do I do?” she couldn’t help but ask, glancing from Mikage to Tomoe, searching their faces for guidance.

“Do not let him twist your arm and do anything you do not wish to do,” Tomoe warned, frowning lightly. “If it is what you want, then by all means accept his offer. But if you have even the smallest doubt, then turn him down. It is not worth it to live a life you do not wish to live.”

That was true, Nanami thought. She knew what it was like to live an unwanted life all too well. And all this time, Tomoe had been concerned about what kind of life she wanted to live, what kind of future she envisioned. But becoming a kami, no matter how small her powers were, could have implications for their cubs. And for Tomoe too, she realized, darting a nervous tongue out over her lips to wet them. After all, he’d just decided to end one shinshi contract. What if Ookuninushi expected her to leash Tomoe in Mikage’s stead? It was no better, and it was not what she wanted from their relationship.

“Perhaps Nanami-san needs some time to think about such an offer,” Mikage proposed, turning towards Ookuninushi with a sheepish smile.

“And what makes it any different from requesting immortality?” Ookuninushi asked, capturing his chin between a finger and a thumb, smiling serenely. “If she understands the implications of immortality, then she’ll understand what it means to be a kami.”

“I get it. It’s just…I wasn’t expecting this,” Nanami insisted, sputtering. “I was totally prepared for what it meant to live longer than everyone else. I was ready to help others. But I don’t know what I’d even do with god powers.”

“Maybe it’d help if I explained the reasoning on a personal level — beyond what you could give to humanity,” Ookuninushi said with a hum. “To be there for your children, to prepare them for the world and show them how to make a difference, you must be able to guide them. And a way for you to understand how to do so is for you to learn how to wield powers as well.” He paused, taking in Nanami’s glazed over eyes, watching her nod robotically. Perhaps he sensed that she was still overwhelmed, because he added on, “Truly, if you’re still worried about what to do with your powers, then perhaps you can get some ideas from Mikage. Shadowing him…helping him with small prayers…that will keep you in touch with humanity — and it might spark some inspiration. At any rate, how you choose to do good things and help others is still up to you.”

Here, Nanami glanced from Mikage to Tomoe, feeling a bit helpless, at a loss. “But what about Tomoe?” she blurted out. “I won’t be able to help how my powers affect him, will I?” She sucked in a breath through her teeth, her eyes tearing over. “I don’t want him to become my shinshi!”

“He doesn’t have to be,” Ookuninushi soothed. “Besides, he already has a contract with Mikage—”

“That I would like to dissolve,” Tomoe interrupted, drawing Ookuninushi’s surprised gaze in his direction. This wasn’t how he’d hoped to have this conversation, Tomoe thought. But he had to seize the opening while it was there.

“Oh, my,” Ookuninushi murmured, blinking. “Mikage didn’t mention this.”

“I hadn’t had the chance to,” Mikage said with a little chuckle. “It’s something that just came up.”

At this, Tomoe nodded. “Indeed. We had just begun discussing this. And Mikage and Nanami both agree with me — that I should not be under the familiar contract if I do not wish to be.”

“Well…” Ookuninushi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I knew this day was coming… Mikage did promise to dissolve the contract when Nanami-hime returned, if that was what you wanted.”

Tomoe’s tail flicked anxiously, and he sat up straight as a board. “So you recall… Then it will not be a problem?” He all but held his breath, his gaze boring into Ookuninushi.

Here, Ookuninushi shook his head, still smiling. “I have no problem with it. I have witnessed the change in you — both back when the contract was forged and now. I fully believe that you’re a reformed fox and have served your sentence, giving back to humanity what you stole.” His eyes half lidded, his smile growing. “I can promise that none of the gods will come after you, Tomoe-kun.”

Tomoe’s ears relaxed, and he exhaled in a rush. It was finally over, he thought, sagging in his seat. While he’d been more or less free beforehand, to have this confirmation, that his life and choices going forward really would be that simple and carefree, left him with a new sense of lightness.

“That is reassuring to hear,” Tomoe said aloud.

Maybe Tomoe thought so, but she didn’t, Nanami thought, her brow furrowing. “But what about me? If I’m a god and I kiss him, I’ll trap him in the contract all over again!” Here, her voice dropped, soft and wavering. “I don’t want to do that to him. I want us to be equal. And I want him to be a free fox.” She dropped her chin to her chest.

“I do understand, Nanami-hime,” Ookuninushi said, infuriatingly calm, his voice almost melodic. “But that’s something you don’t need to worry about. As long as you and Tomoe have no intention of forging the contract, then you’ll be in the clear. One has to will it for the contract to be sealed.”

Torn, Nanami whipped her head in Mikage’s direction, seeking his counsel. In all their time together, he’d never misled her or steered them wrong, and since it would serve him no purpose for her and Tomoe to seal the familiar contract anyway, she had no doubt that he’d be honest about it.

“Is that true?” she asked Mikage.

“It is.” Mikage adjusted his glasses, expression now serious, although his eyes remained soft, sympathetic. “When Tomoe and I sealed the contract, it was after we’d discussed it and both verbally agreed to it. The kiss we shared was simply an energy exchange, to make it official and binding. You can’t accidentally create a contract; you have to mean it.”

As Nanami’s eyes flitted among them, Tomoe’s heart ached for her. He squeezed her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, finally capturing her gaze. “It is as Mikage has said,” he assured her. “The contract was not sealed before the two of us had had time to negotiate and agree to what it meant. I was surprised by the method of sealing the contract, but it was very much of my own will.” His tone rounded at the edges, gentler now. “You would not capture me in an unintentional contract. I have full faith and trust in you.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it.

Warmth bloomed in her chest, and Nanami’s eyes fluttered shut, the sensation of Tomoe’s lips brushing her hand easing her worries. “And I trust you too,” she whispered.

“Then trust in yourself, just as I trust you,” Tomoe urged. “You will not harm me. So if this is the only reservation you have, then you need not worry. We will be all right.”

His words had her relaxing, her muscles unwinding from the tension they’d held. They’d made it through everything else so far, she reasoned with herself. Over and over, they’d made it against all odds, reinventing themselves and finding each other in the process. In the grand scheme of things, this was nothing — nothing compared to the pain, the fear, the heartache they’d faced in the past. If everyone was telling her that she should have faith in herself, and in him, then she should listen.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes. “As long as Tomoe and our kids will be okay,” she said. “I’ll do it as long as it won’t hurt them in any way.”

Ookuninushi’s eyes twinkled. “Of course, my dear. No harm will come to you or your children.”

“Then…” Nanami inhaled deeply, curling her fingers into her palm. “What do I need to do?”

“The transformation is simple. I will kiss your forehead to bless you with a god mark — and immortality. The rest will take place naturally,” Ookuninushi explained. When Nanami’s brow creased deeply, he chuckled. “Don’t make such a face, Nanami-hime! It won’t hurt.”

Nanami glanced from Tomoe to Mikage. They only gazed back at her, with such kindness and compassion and assurance that she couldn’t help but feel completely safe. Slowly, she released Tomoe’s hand, and she turned completely towards Ookuninushi. It was time to trust that she could catch herself if she fell.

“All right. Then I’m ready,” she said, breathing in.

“Very well.” 

With a quick wave of his hand, Ookuninushi vanished the rose. Then, he beckoned Nanami to come closer. Delicately, Nanami scooted nearer, until she was within arms’ reach. When she sat this close to him, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, like the golden rays of the sun, this powerful energy that was so potent that even she could sense it. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, drying up, and she struggled to swallow. Her breaths came faster, and she dug her nails into her sweat-ridden palms until she could feel the imprints they left behind.

“By my power, I give you the title of godhood and the gift of immortality,” Ookuninushi said, gingerly taking her face in his hands. “May you be blessed.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, and her eyes blew wide. The touch felt so hot, almost scorching, and if it hadn’t been for the rush of wind that followed it, cooling her skin, she would’ve jerked backwards. As that sensation grew, flooding beyond the bounds of her body in a surge of golden light, she felt herself thrumming with a similar energy, healing to the very core. Aches she hadn’t even known were there made themselves known as they faded away to comfort, and her body temperature regulated, returning to normal. The weakness, the shaking, the dizziness, and the background nausea all dissipated, replaced by focus, steadiness, presence and peace of mind. 

Then, just as it had begun, it ended, fading out into a minuscule but sturdy glow in her midst, like a new organ had nestled itself inside her body. Slowly, Ookuninushi released her, sitting back, a pleased smile painting his mouth. She straightened up, too stunned to speak.

“Well, how does it feel to be a kami, Nanami-hime?” Ookuninushi asked.

“I…” She stared down at her hands, turning them one way and then the other. “It feels different, but it also doesn’t…”

“Good. Then it was the proper amount of power.” Ookuninushi nodded. Here, he turned towards Tomoe and Mikage. “I have also removed her family’s curse with my blessing. From here on, her and any of her descendents will be healthy.”

So there had been a curse, Tomoe thought, his heart leaping into his throat. If they hadn’t addressed her mortality, then it was likely they wouldn’t have found out the truth about the curse either. Overcome by emotion, he bowed towards Ookuninushi, his eyes stinging slightly. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome.” With that, Ookuninushi stood. “Well, I must take my leave. My schedule is quite packed today! It was good seeing you two again. And it was good meeting you, Nanami-hime. I have a feeling you and I will be seeing more of each other in the future.”

“Y-yes, of course!” Nanami sputtered, still reeling. Then, realizing that Tomoe had gone so far as to bow to Ookuninushi, she remembered her own manners, and bowed as deeply as she could. “Thank you, Ookuninushi. I promise I’ll make the most of this opportunity.”

“And I have full faith that you will, my dear.” Ookuninushi tucked his hands into his opposite sleeves. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Before any of them could react, a blinding white light encompassed his body, until his very form faded in the brilliance. Another crackling boom shook the shrine, this one so loud that Tomoe had to clamp his hands over his ears. Then, just like that, sparkles like miniature stars shimmered out in the air where Ookuninushi had once stood, until the light faded entirely. He was gone.

“Well, I’m relieved that turned out,” Mikage finally mused, breaking the silence. “Thank goodness!”

“Indeed,” Tomoe murmured, sneaking a glance at Nanami. She still seemed stunned by Ookuninushi’s sudden departure, so he crept closer, enveloping her in his arms. “I am so happy that you are in good health, my love. Aren’t you?”

Her chin quivered, and she nodded furiously. She still hadn’t absorbed it entirely, but her mind was racing. She no longer had to worry about dying young. She didn’t have to worry about leaving her kids behind, or her body failing her in sickness, or abandoning Tomoe. Although it wouldn’t solve all her problems, and she was sure there would be plenty of hard times ahead too, those were overshadowed by the huge weight which had been lifted from her chest. A half laugh, half sob escaped her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

Because she realized then that she truly had nothing to worry about ever again.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered, turning her head to look at Tomoe. Immediately, his nose bumped hers, and she became aware of his closeness, his dazzling amethyst gaze holding hers. Her heart skipped, and she flushed. “Oh…”

Perhaps Mikage read the room, because he stood, bringing the tray with the water pitcher and glasses with him. “Well, I think this calls for a celebration. I’ll go talk to Onikiri and Kotetsu about having a special dinner tonight.”

They barely heard Mikage, even as he excused himself from the room, quietly sliding the door shut. Instead, they remained enthralled in each other, captivated by each other’s shining eyes. And yet Nanami could do more than scarcely breathe, shallow puffs of air ghosting Tomoe’s lips. Momentarily, she froze, her hand lighting on his chest.

He knew what she was thinking. And despite the assurances, he knew she was still worried about how her newfound godhood would affect him. But Tomoe wasn’t going to leave it to uncertainty, or let her rot in that limbo, wondering if their assurances had been true or not. Without hesitation, he leaned in, and he pressed his lips to hers.

Her breath hitched sharply. And then, as nothing happened, as only stillness and quiet surrounded them, her body melted into his arms. Slowly, she slipped her arms over his shoulders, embracing him around the neck. Then, just as gradually, she began to return the gentle pressure.

Outside, a few stray snowflakes flitted on the breeze. But here, in the shrine, the two of them were warm. From now on, they could live their life fully as equals.

Chapter Text

The timing of Nanami’s transformation had been just right, because mere weeks later, she’d gone into labor. The entire process had been simultaneously frantic and yet painfully slow, the majority of the time spent waiting for the inevitable. By the time she’d finally been admitted to the hospital and given drugs for her pain, Tomoe had been thanking the heavens that she had been transformed into a kami, untouchable by physical harm or death. He didn’t know how he would’ve managed such a messy and bloody process, complete with her crushing his hand and crying, had he not had that peace of mind. 

Seeing his wife like this was still enough to bring tears to his eyes, however, and he couldn’t stop kissing her hand, couldn’t stop assuring her with words and touches, as there was nothing else he could do. His anxiety turned towards his cubs’ health, but she wouldn’t release him to let him get a better look at what was going on. So he simply held her the best he could, and listened to his cubs’ first cries, his heart twinging at the sound.

Even those first moments with the cubs passed in a blur. Nanami had held them briefly, but after hours and hours of labor, she was exhausted and ill, in desperate need of time to recover. It seemed that becoming a kami hadn’t fully taken away physical discomfort, Tomoe had thought as he’d fussed over her. Before he could get his fill with the cubs, they were taken away by one of the nurses, and then he was left with Nanami to get some rest.

Currently, Tomoe sat by Nanami’s bedside, gently holding her hand. It had been hours, but she was still woozy and out of it, her eyes closed and her breaths slow and rhythmic. He wasn’t sure if she was fast asleep or not, but he wouldn’t have doubted it, given the amount of pain medications she’d asked for. At least the room was dark and cool and peaceful, the only sounds the occasional muffled interruption of an intercom or a cart wheeling by their closed door.

He brushed a strand of hair from her sticky forehead, staring down at her flushed face. Still, she didn’t stir, her chest continuing to rise and fall in the same steady cadence. This experience had been hard for her, he thought, sympathy clenching behind his ribs. To see his mate in such pain, to know that she would endure weeks of healing her body, made him feel like his chest had been pierced. He would do anything for her, he thought, leaning down to lightly kiss her forehead. And she didn’t need to worry about day-to-day life either; she would have his support as well as Mikage’s.

The door clicked open and Tomoe lifted his head as a nurse came in, pushing the bassinets forward into the room. She whispered a greeting, then turned to check on Nanami, who only hummed slightly at her whispered questions. Thanks to Mikage’s help with his transformation spell, the nurse didn’t notice their ears or tails — or the tiny mewls they were making. The sound called to him, igniting something deep and instinctual in his midst. Unable to bear waiting any longer, he stood, carefully releasing Nanami’s hand, staring down into the bassinets in wonder. Immediately, his breath caught.

He’d never seen fox babies before.

As he gaped at their tiny faces and small curled fists, the nurse left them, her instructions dying in the background, the rest of the world having stopped since Tomoe had laid eyes on his precious cubs. He stared for a moment in wonder, and though they were ayakashi, a part of him was afraid to touch them. They looked so small and fragile. In fact, their eyes hadn’t even opened yet.

Since Nanami hadn’t done more than stir, he finally decided to take the initiative. Carefully, he reached into one of the bassinets and lifted one of the twins — the girl, whose wispy hair, ears, and tail were the same chocolate brown as Nanami’s hair. The child fit in his palms. While he had read parenting books with Nanami, nothing could’ve prepared him for this, or how he’d feel when he actually held his cubs. He shot a quick glance at the other twin, feeling like he’d neglected his son, but he didn’t dare hold them both at the same time.

Cradling his daughter in an arm, he nudged Nanami’s shoulder. “My love,” he called, keeping his voice down. “Our cubs are here.”

Nanami stirred, a small moan catching in her throat. She blinked hazy eyes open and looked at him, although her stare was unfocused. “Wha—?”

“Our cubs,” he repeated, and then offered her the bundle. “Would you like to hold them?”

“Yeah.”

It took a moment for his statement to click; it wasn’t until she saw the baby in his arms that her eyes popped open all the way and a small breath hitched in her throat. Suddenly, she felt overly protective — like a mama bear, she thought, stifling the urge to demand that he give her their daughter. In an instant, she reminded herself that this was her husband, that he was nothing like her father, that she wasn’t back there with a neglectful parent again. He was safe.

In a hoarse voice, she asked, “Can I feed her?”

Catching the troubled gleam in her eyes, Tomoe carefully surrendered their daughter to her. He waited until she’d held out her arms, and then he made sure she had a secure hold on the baby. “Do you have her?” At this, Nanami nodded, so he let go. “All right. I will hold our son.”

Ignoring the anxious glance he got from her, he stood and went to the other bassinet. Their son was a white fox just like him, and Tomoe couldn’t help but smile at the thought that their cubs had inherited traits from them both. Even if they were full ayakashi, it was sweet to see her resemblance in them. Gently, he lifted the boy, holding him close as he resumed his seat by her side.

Time seemed to stand still when he held his cubs, and he couldn’t stop marvelling over them, couldn’t take his eyes off them. He cradled their son close, protectively, overflowing with so much warmth and adoration he could hardly contain it. He’d never known a yokai could feel this way, so tender and awestruck. Certainly, he hadn’t expected to ever feel such a deep well of love bursting inside of him over someone who wasn’t his mate. And though he’d longed to create these cubs as an extension of his love for Nanami, now that he saw them up close, now that he touched them, he realized he loved them for so much more than that. Once again, tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he found himself speechless.

Nanami’s voice popped through his reverie. “Hey, Tomoe, I should nurse him too.”

As much as Tomoe wanted to hold his son forever, he didn’t want him to go hungry. So he shifted to sit on the mattress with Nanami, transferring their son to her other arm. She’d already undressed enough to expose her breasts, ones that had swelled since her pregnancy. He could hardly tear his eyes from the sight of her nestling their cubs against her breasts, nurturing his children with such tenderness. All he could do was grab pillows to make her job easier, positioning them beneath her arms so she could prop the cubs up.

“There, is that better?” he murmured, mouth close to her ear.

She flashed him a tired yet grateful smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

Despite the aid of pillows, it was difficult to hold both cubs at once, especially when she was so exhausted, but if there was any mercy in the fact she’d birthed ayakashi children, it was that they were a little smaller than human babies. Still, carrying and birthing two of them had taken its toll on her. She felt weak, but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face at the sight of her children. She couldn’t believe this was actually her life.

The sudden security of Tomoe’s arms wrapped around her, helping her support the cubs’ weight. That took the strain off and helped her relax, knowing he wouldn’t let them fall. His lips brushed the side of her head, and she sighed, those feel-good hormones rushing through her at the skin to skin contact with their cubs. She barely even noticed her lingering pain anymore.

With Tomoe’s arms wrapped around her and their children, she felt more comfortable adjusting the cubs’ position. Carefully, she brought them closer to her breasts, nuzzling her nipples against their mouths, encouraging them to take hold. Their little girl learned quickly, instinct taking over, and soon she suckled. It took a little more effort with her son, but after a few more minutes of shifting around, he latched on as well. 

Quiet fell over the room as both cubs nursed. She gazed down at them, filled with such glowing warmth she thought she might burst. Their fangs pricked her skin, but it was nothing she wasn’t used to — Tomoe was a biter too, she thought, sneaking a glance at him. But he seemed so docile, so serene right now. It was hard to imagine that he’d ever been the wild fox she’d met so long ago.

“Are they biting you?” Tomoe asked, keeping his voice low.

“Not really; it just kinda scrapes.” Here, she hummed in thought. “It is kinda weird they have fangs already…” She studied his gaze. “I didn’t think foxes were born with teeth.”

“Hm, they are yokai,” he reminded her, his lips twitching in a smile.

“I guess.” Her eyes dropped to watch their cubs’ faces, a giggle escaping her at the sound of their mewls. “But they seem more like foxes than you do… Although they also look kinda human.”

“They are newly born. Of course they have more fox traits than I do.” He shot her a wry smile.

“They’re so cute though,” she continued. “They’re perfect…”

Leaning closer, Tomoe watched the two cubs suckle, smiling softly. “They are perfect.” Momentarily, he rubbed a thumb over her arm, quietly watching. Then, he observed: “They are so small. And they seem very fragile. I feel like I should not touch them.”

“You said they were ayakashi,” she replied, lifting an eyebrow but smiling back. “They can handle it. Besides, you’re so gentle — you’ve always touched me with care.” Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “If you haven’t broken me and I’m a human, then you won’t hurt them. I promise.”

He nodded, then drifted a hand towards his daughter, lightly touching her balled up fist. Her hand was almost as small as his finger. Lips parting, he watched as she instinctively grasped his finger, and then he chuckled at the light sting of her tiny claws. “Ah, she has your spirit, I believe. I can tell she will be fierce just like her mother.”

“Just like her father,” Nanami corrected, lips pursing. But she could only hold that sour expression so long before she burst into a laugh. “Maybe like both of us.”

“Hm, yes, we are well matched.” Tomoe grinned down at his daughter, letting her squeeze his finger with all her might, though he scarcely felt the pressure she exerted. Forgetting Nanami’s comments, his eyes lit up as the girl scratched at his finger. “Look how small her claws are. She is adorable.”

“I think she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl,” Nanami giggled. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten; I just know it.” This earned her another wry smile.

Carefully, Tomoe wiggled his finger free so he could pay his son some attention. The boy had latched onto Nanami pretty securely, his fists tucked into himself. He seemed more reserved. So Tomoe only lightly brushed a fingertip over one of the small, triangular ears that adorned his head. He laughed softly as it flicked ever so slightly. This elicited a small squeal from Nanami.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” She giggled. “Is it wrong for me to want to pet their ears and tails too?”

“No. You pet mine all the time, and I never mind,” Tomoe assured her.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her tone faraway, almost dreamy. “I guess so.”

Tomoe petted his son’s head with a finger again, appreciating his soft hair and ears. He ran a finger over his back, in awe that they’d created this tiny cub. “It is astounding to me that they were conceived five hundred years ago. I cannot believe that.”

Nanami’s expression softened, and she turned her head towards Tomoe, watching him stroke their son’s hair again. “I still can’t believe you managed so long, living with that heartbreak. And now…I can’t imagine losing the cubs either.” She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. “I’d be so devastated, I think I’d die.”

“That is thankfully something we do not need to worry about.” Once more, he leaned in to kiss her, this time catching the corner of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut. “We have each other now. We will have each other in the future. And I am happier now than I have ever been in my life.”

“Me too.” She gingerly rocked the twins, keeping her movements minimal so she wouldn’t disturb them. Tomoe’s touch drifted to their daughter again, so careful and loving. “I know it’s not always gonna be easy — especially with babies. Two babies.” Here, she laughed and shook her head. “But it’ll be worth it. We’ll have many years together, won’t we?”

“All the time in the world,” he agreed, lightly rubbing his daughter’s head, his thumb nudging her ear. Another flick. He couldn’t help the delight that rose in his chest, the warmth flooding his face. “She looks so much like you.”

“Like me if I had ears,” Nanami said with a grin, her eyes half lidding. “And he looks just like you.”

“Not completely. He has some of your features.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right. But he is a white fox like you.” She cradled both babies as they mewled again, a sigh escaping her. She supposed they’d have to supplement breast milk with formula. She wasn’t sure she had enough milk for two babies — at least not at the moment. Watching them squirm, their eyes tightly shut, she mused aloud, “I wonder what color their eyes are.” Here, she giggled. “Do you think they look like mini versions of us?”

“It is hard to say.” Tomoe kissed her temple slowly. “I would like to know too.”

“Well, I’ll love them no matter what.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling. “I’m already so in love with them.”

“As am I.” Tomoe laid his cheek against the top of her head, embracing her and their cubs. It felt so good to have a family, he thought. It seemed surreal, like he was outside of himself. He’d never thought this would be a possibility for his life — and he’d never even known it was something he’d wanted until he’d met Nanami. “I have never been so full of this feeling.”

“Of what? Love?” Nanami giggled at his poor attempt to express himself.

Face flushing, Tomoe chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is it.”

Nanami hummed and pressed closer to him, absorbing his body heat, the solidity of his form. She felt so safe right now, so loved. “I love you.”

“Mm, I love you too.” Tomoe kissed the top of her hair slowly. “I am so glad we will always be together now.”

“Me too.” She paused, glancing down at their babies, flinching as their daughter’s tiny claws scraped against her breast. It did nothing more than leave a few light pink marks, so she relaxed. At least they were too small to do any damage. Although she knew they meant no harm anyway. “Do you think they’ll be wild?”

Tomoe had been lost in the moment, in watching the twins feed, nestled in Nanami’s arms and against her soft breasts. She was so loving, so warm, so motherly, he thought with a smile, finding the sight endearing. Her words pulled him from these thoughts. “Hm? I suppose so, yes. But just because they are wild foxes by nature does not mean they will be wild foxes in practice. I told you we will raise them right.” He touched the blanket his son was loosely draped in, the act affectionate.

“Hopefully they won’t be troublesome,” Nanami said with a laugh. “Their faces are angelic but I remember what you were like.” She shot him a teasing smile.

He frowned. “Now our children would never—!”

“I know.” Her eyes half lidded and she smiled dreamily. “They’ll be perfect. And sweet.” She cradled them. “Our little Kumi.” She stroked the girl’s head. Then, shifting her gaze to the boy, she murmured, “And our little Katsumi.”

Humming, Tomoe kissed her, this time capturing her lips. She returned his kiss just as gingerly for the moment she allowed it, and then they parted with a quiet smacking sound. Staring into Nanami’s eyes, one hand at each twin, Tomoe offered her a loving smile. “Thank you for being the mother of my children, Nanami.”

“That’s a strange thing to thank me for.” Nanami grinned up at him, but her heart beat faster anyway.

“But I am grateful. I know it was not easy on you. I know it has been hard.” He kissed her temple, shutting his eyes. “It does not matter to me if you don’t want more cubs. I am happy with our family as it is.” He lightly brushed his palms over the twins’ hair. “And I am so glad it was you who I chose to start a family with.”

“I’m glad I chose you too. You’ve honestly...been so wonderful.” Her smile wavered, her eyes stinging. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or perhaps it was because her heart was bursting with so much love and tenderness, but it all came out so easily now. “I know we’ve talked about it before but...it’s still hard sometimes. Trusting you, leaning on you. But you’ve stood by my side and been such a huge help these last nine months. You’ve been so good to me and to our babies. I can’t believe I found a man like you.”

“Well, now, I was not always like this.”

“I know you’ve changed a lot, but you’ve always been this way — helping me, looking out for me.” She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, then shut her eyes, breathing in his scent. Gods, he smelled so good. “I never thought I’d meet a man that’d change my mind. I never thought men like you existed. You know, men who wouldn’t leave…”

“I would never leave.” He nuzzled her, letting her hide away in the crook of his neck, the scent of salt hitting him. He held her tighter. “I have no desire to leave. All my life, I have wanted nothing more than to feel like this.” Shutting his eyes, he pressed close to her. “You have accepted me. And I am not alone anymore. I have pledged my loyalty to you — and, to an ayakashi, that means everything.”

She nodded, sniffing as a few tears escaped. “I know.” Here, a shaky laugh left her. She kissed his collarbone, his throat. “Sometimes I can’t believe someone like you chose me.”

“Now what does that mean?” Tomoe’s eyes fluttered open, but he couldn’t look at her face, because she had it buried in the junction of his neck and shoulder. “I don’t understand.”

“You were the most powerful yokai. And you fell for me — a human girl who wasn’t capable of much of anything. I had no skills—”

He interrupted her before she could avalanche. “You do not need skills. What you have to offer is far more than anyone could expect. You are kind and caring and accepting. You see the good in everyone. You are tenacious and spirited and strong. That is what I see in you, my beautiful wife.”

With a grin, she laughed shakily. “You’re so sweet.”

“It is the truth.” His tone was serious, almost somber. “You were a guiding light in my life. I would have never known happiness or how to care for another had I not met you. I would have never had a true friend.”

Her heart melted. “Tomoe…” She leaned against him, heart beating harder. Even now, she still loved him so deeply she couldn’t stand it. “I’ve never had a real friend before you either. You truly care about me.”

“Of course I do!” He snorted, speaking into her hair, his half-lidded gaze dropping to watch the twins again. “I will love you forever. Until you are sick of me. Until the whole world has faded away. My love for you will never die.”

Several fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I could never get sick of you. We’ve fought too hard to get here. I’ll never take you for granted, because I’ve never had a life like this before you. I never thought I could have a life like this.” She lifted her chin, smiling at him. “So my love will never die either. True love doesn’t.”

“Unconditional love does not.” He tilted his head down, ears relaxing backwards. With a soft kiss to her forehead, he murmured, “And I love you unconditionally.”

“I feel the same way about you,” she whispered, grinning and accepting the kisses he bestowed upon her. The next time he bent down, she touched her lips to his, and he met her halfway. They kissed for a moment, holding it, then followed it up with several shorter kisses.

Comfort washed over her, the pain in her body seeming that much farther away. He readjusted his position on the bed until he was lying on his side, and then, like so many times before, he curled his tail over his hip, draping it over her lap. Her heart melted, and she kissed his lips one more time. Then, they parted, staring into each other’s eyes for a moment before their cubs’ mewls commanded their attention.

A moment passed where they quietly watched their cubs feed, the two making small growls and moans of contentment. Nanami leaned her head against Tomoe’s, smiling tiredly down at the two, basking in his arms. They were a family. It was strange to think that she had a family now. Tomoe had been her family for over two years, but it still didn’t feel real. And now, to think, they had a larger family together than she’d ever imagined.

She’d always been so alone growing up. The empty room so fresh in her memory, the scent of musty bedding and stale cigarettes lingering even when her father was nowhere to be found. The slanted golden rays of a setting sun as the shadows encroached, eventually eclipsing the light in the thick blanket of night. That silence that suffocated her, that was loud enough for her to hear the monsters in the closet. How many nights she’d spent as a small, shivering ball huddled under her duvet, the heat shut off and the bills unpaid and her stomach growling and — and so completely, vastly alone.

She’d never be alone again. And neither would her cubs. Maybe she couldn’t change the past, but Ookuninushi had given her the opportunity to change the future. For herself, for her children, for others. And she had plenty of time to figure out what to do with what she had now, so she chose to savor this moment of domesticity and joy, to bask in the warmth of Tomoe and their cubs.

Chapter Text

Five years had passed quicker than the blink of an eye, faster than Nanami had ever experienced as a mortal. It seemed like she’d simply glanced away, and in those microseconds, her children had grown from the newborn cubs in her arms to happy and healthy five-year-olds, already enrolled in school. During the first two years, she’d primarily stayed home to help raise them, to spend as much time with them as possible. After that, she’d gone back for some refresher courses in education, so she could find a job.

For now, she hadn’t yet decided what to do with her godhood besides helping Mikage answer small prayers and practice with the trees and flowers in the garden to make them bloom. She figured the best way for her to decide what to do beyond that was to integrate with society again, and to better understand what people needed now. It wasn’t her long-term plan, but for the time being, she accepted a position teaching at a preschool. After all, shaping the next generation was going to make an impact, no matter where her godhood took her.

Being a god didn’t mean everything was easy, however, and some days were more trying than others. Today had been one such long day at work, and Nanami was looking forward to a quiet evening in. She’d just arrived home and, looking at the clock, realized that Tomoe should be coming back from picking up their kids from kindergarten about now. Even though Tomoe took care of most of the domestic duties, she still went into the kitchen and got tea started, then began to prepare a small snack for the kids. It was always nice to do something for them herself, since Tomoe filled that role so often. Sometimes, she felt like she didn’t do nearly enough, since she only worked and then played with the kids in the evenings. But Tomoe was quick and efficient with the housework, so there was really nothing more to do by the time she got home. She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought that they’d reversed the stereotypical roles.

Muffled voices snapped her to the present. Even before her husband and kids came inside the house, she heard them approaching, Kumi’s excited voice carrying over the grounds of the shrine. The little girl was so exuberant, so vivid and full of life — she supposed Kumi was a lot like her in that respect. But she had her father’s strength while their son was the emotional one. She shook her head. It was interesting how they’d picked up personality traits from the both of them.

The front door slid open and then Kumi and Katsumi came inside — Kumi running and Katsumi trailing behind. Tomoe’s voice called out from just outside the threshold. “Kumi, do not run in the house! You will hurt yourself.”

Kumi, in her excited state, didn’t seem to hear him. She had a piece of construction paper clenched tightly in one fist, but Nanami couldn’t make out what was on it from where she was standing. Before she had a chance to ask, Tomoe took several long strides across the floor and swept their daughter up in an arm, preventing her from a disastrous collision with a side table.

“You ought to be more careful,” he chided, adjusting his hold on her. She blinked her large amethyst eyes, confused, and he found her so adorable in that moment that he couldn’t be mad. Not giving Nanami a chance to complain, he pressed a kiss to Kumi’s head, near one of her fuzzy brown ears. “I would not want you to hurt yourself or break anything. All right?”

A giggle escaped Nanami and she leaned her hip against the counter, raising an eyebrow. “Not gonna let them run rampant, huh?” She shook her head, teasing him with the promise he’d made to her years ago. “You like to act tough but you’re a big softie.” Playfully, she hit his arm with a tea towel, her eyes dancing.

“I cannot help it! And you know why.” He frowned, but it was hardly serious. Then, his attention diverted as Kumi began to squirm. 

“Put me down, Daddy,” she whined. “I wanna show Mama my picture!”

“Do you promise not to run in the house?” Tomoe lifted an eyebrow.

She nodded effusively. “I promise! I’ll be real good.”

“All right.” He set her on her feet and she immediately forgot her promise, rushing to Nanami and grabbing her around the legs in a bear hug. Unable to help it, Tomoe chuckled. “Hm, quite the troublemaker.” Here, his eyes drifted to Katsumi, who’d quietly seated himself at the table, patiently waiting. “Were you going to show your mother your picture too?” Katsumi nodded, golden eyes meeting Tomoe’s, but he didn’t say a word.

The boy had had a rough day, Tomoe thought. Even if he wouldn’t say it, he could tell. While Nanami fussed over Kumi, he sat by Katsumi, then laid a hand on his head and stroked his hair momentarily. “You should show her. She will love it.” 

In response, Katsumi crawled to him and buried his face in Tomoe’s haori. He was hiding again, Tomoe thought with a little sigh. It was just a phase; the boy would grow out of it. Of course, with a sister as loud and spirited as Kumi, it was easy to feel overshadowed. She often commanded attention just by her presence alone. Like she was doing now.

“Mama, look look!” Kumi thrust the picture up for Nanami to look at, grin wide across her face, showing her little fangs. “It’s you and me and Daddy and Katsumi!”

A laugh escaped Nanami and she accepted the construction paper from Kumi. The girl had drawn their family with crayons and embellished the picture with multicolored, cut out shapes of construction paper as well as glitter glue and stamped markers of stars and smiley faces. 

“This is a really pretty picture! You did such a good job!” She petted Kumi’s hair, beaming. Then, taking another glance at the picture, she caught sight of how Kumi had drawn Tomoe — his expression between blank and frowning, his tail sticking straight out. It was all she could do not to laugh. Instead, she stole a glance at Tomoe and said, “It looks just like Daddy.”

This snapped Tomoe’s attention up. At first, he was going to protest, but he caught it just in time. It was about Kumi’s picture, he reminded himself. This wasn’t the time to tease Nanami in return. “Are you going to put it on the refrigerator, Nanami?”

“Yep!” Turning to Kumi, Nanami asked, “Is that okay?” When Kumi nodded and hummed, smiling brightly, Nanami stepped to the refrigerator and pinned the paper to the surface with one of the magnets. “Perfect!” Realizing that Katsumi had been quiet — even for him — she turned her attention to her son. There, she found him hiding in Tomoe’s haori. “Did something happen?” Her eyes locked on Tomoe, worried.

Tomoe sighed. “I am not sure, but…” Here, he glanced at Kumi as she spun around the middle of the kitchen in circles, first one way and then the other. Was she chasing her tail? Quickly, he shook himself from his thoughts. “I will tell you later.”

“Okay.” Although Tomoe didn’t say it, she had a feeling it had something to do with Kumi. The twins got along fairly well, but sometimes Katsumi got so jealous of his sister that he cried. She did get a lot of attention, Nanami thought grimly. Especially because she was always wreaking some sort of havoc. She couldn’t very well help but pay attention to Kumi then, even if it wasn’t exactly positive attention.

It was time to distract Kumi, she decided. Katsumi obviously needed some time with her; there were times she felt guilty for giving his sister so much attention. As much as she loved her son, sometimes she felt like they couldn’t connect on the same level. At least he had a close bond with his father, she thought with a wan smile, watching Katsumi hide in Tomoe’s arms. Her smile softened, affectionate; she was glad Tomoe was such a loving father and had no reservations about holding both his daughter and his son.

As the kettle steamed, reminding her about their snack, she snapped herself out of her thoughts. For a moment, she quietly prepared herbal tea and small plates of food for the twins, then set the items on the table. Tomoe’s eyes followed her, but he was quiet apart from a small word of thanks when she handed him a cup of tea. Then, she glanced at Kumi, who had resumed running circles. The girl was chasing her tail again, she thought, biting back a giggle and shaking her head.

“Kumi, come get your snack,” she called.

She watched with a grin as her daughter stopped twirling, her ears perked up and her amethyst eyes locked on her — her eyes looked so much like Tomoe’s. Chipper as always, Kumi skipped to the table and took her seat, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth in delight as she began to eat her snack.

Now that Kumi was preoccupied, she knelt by Tomoe and Katsumi. He still hid in his father’s arms, she noted. Seeing his little ears drooping, her heart ached. “You don’t want your snack, Katsumi?” she asked, running light fingers over his hair. At first, he shook his head slightly. “But I made mochi. You don’t want it?” A pause. Then Katsumi peeked over Tomoe’s arm, one golden eye visible. Here, Nanami smiled and patted her lap. “I haven’t gotten my hug from you today. And I haven’t seen your picture either. Will you show me?”

Somehow, Nanami managed to convince him to come out of his shell, Tomoe thought, marvelling as Katsumi slipped from his arms and climbed into Nanami’s lap. Tomoe smiled, heart melting at the sight of Nanami wrapping their son in her arms, giving him a tight hug and rocking him gently. That was all the boy needed, he thought as Nanami kissed Katsumi’s head, their son responding by nuzzling her. Physical affection was important to their son too.

Pulling himself from his thoughts about how lovely his family was, he thought to ask, “Where did you put your picture? I would like to put it on the refrigerator too.”

Instead of replying with words, Katsumi pointed to the bag he’d dropped on the way in. Tomoe got up and retrieved it, then set it beside Nanami. He exchanged a glance with her. Although Katsumi hadn’t said it, it was clear today was one of those days that he felt neglected, outshone by his sister.

Luckily, they didn’t need to prod their son. He reached into his bag and pulled out his binder, his small hands fumbling clumsily with it. Finally, he put it on the table and opened it, sliding out his picture. Nanami couldn’t help but smile at this display — he was as careful with his things as Tomoe was. Because of that, she let him hold the picture instead of taking it from him, noticing how delicately he handled the edges.

Whereas Kumi’s picture had been colorful and interpretative, impulsive lines and scattered decorations that suited her whims, Katsumi’s was careful, clearly thought out. Even if his lines were still wobbly, he’d made an effort to draw their family. It was so serious that Nanami couldn’t help but grin.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, beaming at him, brushing some hair from his face. “It looks just like us!” Here, she glanced at the picture again, and noticed Katsumi had added three figures in the background. It struck her then, and she ran a hand over his hair, over one of his ears. “You drew Mikage, Onikiri, and Kotetsu too! That’s so sweet.”

“They’re our family too!” He pouted, his eyes flashing, indignant.

From her right, she heard a low chuckle, and she looked up to find Tomoe smiling over his cup of tea, his eyes locked on them. “Yes, indeed they are.”

“We’re really lucky to have them, aren’t we?” Nanami petted Katsumi’s head, then picked up his plate, offering it to him.

Nodding, he took the mochi, and his small body relaxed, his tail draping over the edge of her leg. “It’s never lonely with them,” he said. “They always play with me.”

To hear him say such words aloud nearly brought tears to Nanami’s eyes. She wrapped Katsumi more securely in her arms and hugged him tightly, closing her eyes, basking in the solidity and heat of his small body. While Kumi would’ve been squirming, he relaxed further and melted into her embrace, snuggling closer. Such a sweet boy, she thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud. It was hard not to seem like she was playing favorites.

“I’m so glad it’s not lonely,” she said, voice soft, tight around the edges.

She could feel Tomoe’s eyes on her, but he didn’t say a word. He’d know what she meant, though. Her chin quivered slightly, relief flooding over her. 

She’d succeeded in giving her children a different childhood than the one she’d had. Both she and Tomoe had worked hard to make the twins feel secure and loved. And even after five years, she still marvelled at what a perfect father he was. Even when the twins misbehaved, he never did more than raise his voice at them, never spoke an unkind word or laid his hands on them. Often, he tried to redirect and reason with him. What a wonderful man, she thought, gazing at him with shimmering eyes.

Realizing Nanami was getting emotional, Tomoe decided to take matters into his own hands. “I will put the picture on the refrigerator. Then we should let your mother rest. It has been a long day for her.” He exchanged a glance with her, and she shot him a grateful look. In return, he smiled, then took Katsumi’s picture and placed it on the refrigerator next to Kumi’s.

“Aw, but I wanna play with Mommy!” Kumi protested, then pouted.

Tomoe knelt beside her with a napkin, dabbing some red bean paste from the corner of her mouth. “Your mother will play with you later. Besides, you have homework to do.” He tapped her nose playfully, chuckling as her eyes crossed. “Do your homework and I will let you and your brother each pick one show to watch on TV.”

Eyes wide, she nodded vigorously. At least she was easy to convince, he thought. He watched her cram the rest of her mochi in her mouth and frowned.

“Small bites and chew slowly!” he reminded her, a flare of anxiety rising in his chest. That impulsive girl, he thought, watching her obey. He swore — if he didn’t watch her, she’d choke one of these days.

Katsumi crawled off Nanami’s lap to finish his snack quickly, clearly incentivized by the bribe as well. Then, the twins hurried from the room, bags in tow, going to the living room to work on their homework. 

Turning towards Tomoe, Nanami offered a relieved smile, her heart fluttering at his support. Even now, he anticipated her needs before she’d even realized them herself. If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that Tomoe’s feelings for her had never waned; they had only grown deeper. And his continued attentiveness only made her love him more in return.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Smiling, Tomoe placed a hand on the back of her head and brought her forward, kissing her forehead. “Of course. Now go lie down for a while. If you need me, I will sit with you for a few minutes.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. You should keep an eye on the twins.”

Grimacing, Tomoe nodded. He could just see them tousling, playing rough, starting a fire. Although they were generally good kids, it had happened before. Not to mention, their children hadn’t yet gained good control over their powers. “All right. I will watch the cubs. Go take a nap and I will clean up.”

Her eyes fell shut and she pecked him on the lips. “Thanks. You’re the best.” She opened her eyes, staring into his gaze for a moment, and then she stood.

“I try.” Tomoe watched her take the plates to the sink, briefly washing them off. “I will do the dishes,” he reminded her. “Go rest.”

With a nod, she relinquished the task, and then disappeared from the room. He tilted his ear, listening as her footsteps receded down the hallway and then their bedroom door creaked open. Poor Nanami, he thought, rising and taking the cups to the sink. He turned on the tap and began to wash the dishes. Although he knew she wanted to pull her weight around the house as well, he’d explained to her that just like working full time was her purpose, that this was his job, his purpose. 

Still, it was her home too, he thought, carefully perching a cup upside down on the draining rack. He could understand her wanting to care of her home and their cubs, wanting to take responsibility and ownership. If only he could convince her she did more than she thought she did. For now, he pushed it from his mind and focused on the task, one ear turned towards the doorway, listening to the twins talk to each other, Kumi dominating the conversation. He’d make it up to Nanami and assure her that night, he decided. Although she was a mother, she was still a woman first — and his woman at that.

—

After dinner, they spent some time with the cubs before bathing and putting the kids to bed. Although Nanami had lain down for a while, she was still tired. She finished her nightly routine and then went to join Tomoe in bed, coming quietly into the room, where he had propped himself up in the futon, idly turning the pages of a book. His eyes flicked up to her, and she sighed, approaching him and crawling into bed.

Just like usual, he set his book aside to pay attention to her, and she snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. No matter how much time passed, she could never forget how grateful she was for him. His arm curved under her, hand falling on her shoulder, rubbing it gently. His other arm wrapped around her too, his lips finding the top of her head in a slow kiss.

A moment of silence passed before she spoke. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Hm?” He looked down at the top of her head, continuing to gently massage the side of her shoulder.

“You’re so amazing,” she replied, laying a hand on his chest. “You’re the best husband and father. You’re so good with the twins. And you still find the time to be this way with me.” A breathless laugh left her. “You’re too good to be true.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he shut his eyes, basking in her warmth. “It is because I am not a human man. They are worms.”

This elicited a giggle from her. “Yokai can be worms too.” Her thoughts drifted to her tenure at the brothel, and her smile subsided. She shuddered.

Even without her saying it, he knew what she was thinking about. Quickly, he interjected, “Not to their mates. You know that.” 

“Yeah.” She fell silent again, listening to his heartbeat and relishing his touch, the way he kissed her head. Sighing quietly, she murmured, “I love you.”

“Mm, I love you too.” He nuzzled into her hair, his ears relaxing. One hand drifted to her back, rubbing it in firm circles. “I know you are tired, but you seemed tense earlier. I would enjoy pleasing you, if you are in the mood.”

A laugh escaped her, and she nuzzled his shoulder in return. “I’m never too tired for that.”

“Is that so?” Smile flickering over his lips, he shifted his right hand to brush over the front of her yukata, fingertips trailing over her chest and pausing at the tie. Gently, he shifted her to the pillow and slipped down until he was eye level with her. “I would like to go down on you.”

Even now, he made her heart race and her cheeks feel warm. She nodded. “I’d like that.” A pause as he started to undo her yukata, his lips finding hers, his kisses light but not lacking in passion. The fact that they still desired each other even after having kids never failed to astound her. Most people weren’t so lucky, after all. As his lips migrated to her jaw and throat, his hands working her yukata open and exposing her skin to the cooler air, she asked him, “Do you wanna make love too?”

“Mm, I had hoped you would say that,” he admitted, running his palms over her smooth skin, pausing at her breasts, kneading them and enjoying the sensation of her hardening nipples. “I greatly enjoy making love to you.”

“Even though we’re not gonna make any more cubs?” she teased.

“Even though we are not going to have more cubs,” he echoed. A part of him wondered if they’d change their minds once Kumi and Katsumi had grown up, but he kept this to himself. Right now, he was content as it was, even if foxes had the drive to keep mating and producing litters. He was just happy to be with her.

Leaving her yukata partially on, only open at the front, he mouthed down her body, kissing her collarbone wetly, working his way to her breasts. Her breaths had deepened, her fingers winding in his hair, pulling on it gingerly. He hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses to her breasts, where he paused to pay special attention to her nipples. A dainty kiss was gifted to each bud, and then he ran a flattened tongue in long, languid strokes over them. Feeling her body quiver, melting beneath his hands, filled him with pride. Carefully, he rolled her to her back.

Her flushed cheeks and audible breaths brought a smile to his mouth. “My, we have been deprived.” His tail swished, eyes dancing as he met hers. He hooked his forefingers in the elastic of her panties. “And after only a few days, too.”

“Can you blame me? You’re incredible in bed,” she complained. This earned her a wry smile and a sideways glance, but he said nothing.

Heart in her throat, she watched him pull her panties down her hips and thighs. He slipped them all the way down her legs, exposing her completely. As he settled between her legs, her eyes widened, a tiny whimper escaping her. He ran his palms in circles at the insides of her thighs and legs, scattering kisses over her hip bones and waist, gradually migrating to her belly, just below her navel. It struck her then what he was doing, and she felt her chin quivering. He was kissing the faint stretch marks there. Vision blurring, she stroked his ears affectionately.

“You stupid fox,” she teased him through her tears, laughing shakily.

“What? I am only expressing my love for you.” He nuzzled against her belly, smiling fondly. “You are beautiful, dear wife. I do not want you to ever think otherwise.” He caressed her stomach, kissing it again. “Every part of you is beautiful.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe you can say that about... those.” Even if they were faint, her stretch marks weren’t exactly a source of pride for her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He met her eyes, brushing a thumb over one set. “They are evidence you carried my cubs. Every time I see them, I think about what you gave me. It reminds me that you are mine, and I am so happy.”

“Ugh, Tomoe…” It was a sentiment he’d told her again and again, but the fact it never seemed to get old to him tugged at her heart. Running her fingers through his hair, she murmured, “Like I said, you’re too amazing to be real.”

Instead of responding with words, he only smiled up at her, and then resumed his kisses. This time, he continued his way down her belly and waist until he reached her mound. He kissed that too, his hands sliding down her hips and thighs, massaging her legs. Feeling her tremble, hearing her whimper, he wasted no more time. His lips found her clit, and he pressed a kiss to it, his eyes falling shut.

They alternated paying more attention to each other, and it seemed tonight he was in the mood to cater to her pleasure more than his own. Perhaps it was selfish, but she needed this. Shutting her own eyes, she hummed a moan, fingers running through his hair, occasionally rubbing his soft ears. The sensation of a wet tongue over her folds and clit had her feet jerking, a gasp escaping her. Gods, she was so keyed up.

A whine made itself known, her nails digging into the tender scalp behind his ears as he glided that hot tongue between her folds, from her entrance all the way up to her clit. Settling in, she brought her knees up and spread her legs wider, breaths growing heavier. Momentarily, he sucked her folds, taking his time, his upper lip bumping her clit. Inwardly, she prayed he’d touch it. Much to her relief, his tongue swept over it, and then he circled her clit, tracing it with the tip of his tongue.

For a moment longer, he teased her, even though she pulled on the hair at the base of his ears and rolled up her hips to meet him, desperate for more. He let his breath play against her sensitive skin, adding to her pleasure. She murmured his name, massaging the base of his ears, sending shocks of pleasure up and down his spine. To reward her, he captured her clit between his lips, sucking it, keeping the contact minimal and slow.

“Ah,” she panted, that electricity racing up and down her legs, her toes twitching. She rocked up against his mouth, her entrance aching already, blood pulsing between her legs. “Tomoe, please…”

He began to mouth at her more insistently, quiet smacking sounds filling the room. Since she begged him, he moved a hand between her legs, rubbing slow circles against her folds and entrance with several fingers, applying a bit of pressure. She was already so wet, he thought. Her whimpers grew louder despite her best efforts to stifle them, and when he glanced up, he saw her back had arched, her eyes screwed shut, a look of intent on her brow. Based on the cadence of her heartbeat, she was already close. That hadn’t taken long.

“Tomoe,” she whispered, tossing her head to the side. Her body rolled up. “Tomoe.”

Continuing to massage her entrance, he increased the suction, appreciating the peak of her breasts, her hardened nipples, the heave of her chest. High pitched ahs left her, and she squirmed beneath him, wriggling her hips, heels digging into the futon. Every part of her body was so tense, the air thick with her arousal. He breathed in her scent, shivering, his erection growing.

She felt like she was going to explode. Yet he didn’t let up on the attention to her clit, sucking her and teasing her with his lips and the tip of his tongue, until she clenched her teeth. “I’m gonna come,” she groaned through them, hips lifting off the futon.

One of his hands slipped beneath her ass, supporting her. Sloppy kissing and sucking sounds filled the air, adding to the pleasure that tingled between her legs. “Ha… Ah, Tomoe…” She tugged his hair painfully, tossing her head to the other side, pressing her lips together. “Mmm.” 

Her hips rocked, and then that tension coiled inside her, her muscles tightening. With a burst of an exhale, her chest caved in and deep throbs shook her whole body, relief flooding over her all at once. She continued to rub herself against his mouth the best she could, riding it out, letting him finish sucking her. The moment she stilled with a final sigh, he eased her down to the futon, carefully pulling off her clit. His heated puffs of breath made her twitch, whimpering, so he kissed the insides of her thighs instead, lightly scraping his teeth over the fragile skin there.

“That felt so good,” she said breathlessly, heart hammering in her chest. His tongue swept over the tendon at the inside of her thigh, pulling another tiny moan from her.

“Hm, better?” he purred, hands running over her legs, her thighs, her hips. Although he already knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from her, to be praised. It filled him with such pride. No one else had ever given her an orgasm, had ever pleasured her. That was a privilege only he had ever had. And he still reveled in that fact.

“Yeah.” She grinned, eyes fluttering open to watch him, breaths slowly evening out.

Their eyes met for a few beats, and then he kissed a trail up to her stomach again, his ears laying back. Once more, he caressed her belly, paying attention to those stretch marks. Gods, she loved this man.

Knowing how arousing this activity was for him, she kept her legs spread, smoothing his hair out. “Make love to me.” This elicited another glance from him, their eyes locking for a longer period this time.

“Even though you have just come?” A smile twitched on his lips, one of his hands drifting between her legs again. He dipped his fingers in her wetness, spreading it over her folds, her labia.

“Yeah. I want to be with you.” She smiled tenderly down at him.

In response, he kissed her hip, then slipped up her body, until he held himself up on his forearms and knees over her. He stared down at her face, his breaths short and shallow, his own body feeling hot. Eyes dancing, she grabbed the tie of his yukata and smirked, then nimbly undid it with expert hands. His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t complain. In no time, she’d brushed the fabric down from his shoulders to his upper back, exposing his front to her.

She glanced between their bodies, appreciating the sight of his erection, the bead of pre-cum decorating the tip. Brushing a delicate hand over the underside, she watched his stomach suck in, his breath hitching. “I love it when you get so hot for me,” she purred, keeping her voice just above a whisper. She wrapped her fingers around his length, leaning up to kiss his throat. Her other hand found the back of his head, and she pushed it down until she could speak in his ear. “You have such a pretty cock. Everything about your body is flawless.”

His face burned all the way up to his ears. No matter how many times he heard it, it never failed to draw this reaction from him. They’d essentially been together for eight and a half years, he scoffed at himself. But she still made his body tremble like she had the first night they’d slept together.

Her hand tightened around his erection, pulling him from his thoughts. His mouth fell open, ahs leaving him with each panted breath. With a low giggle, she trailed her lips over the edge of his ear, her hand beginning to move, to work him from the base of his erection to the tip.

“I want your cock inside me,” she whispered. “I want it so deep I can feel you at my womb.”

“Nanami…” he murmured, his ears flicking back. His body felt overheated, breaking into a sweat.

After a few more strokes, she released him, one hand still at the back of his head and her other arm draping around his neck. “Go ahead. Have your way with me.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. On shaking arms, he lowered himself on top of her, her name falling from his lips at the sensation of skin against skin. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pelvis tilted up, and he accepted the invitation. Without hesitating, he positioned himself and entered her, her wetness surrounding him, embracing his erection snugly. A surge of pleasure tingled over his skin, setting his blood on fire.

As good as it felt, he worked his hips in slow, careful movements. Her whispered words of ‘you’re in so deep’ only served to turn him on even more. Gradually, his thrusts grew harder, his hips pressed firmly to hers, the base of his erection stimulating her clit. There was nothing he loved more in the world than being with his wife. And what made him love it the most was the fact that she let her guard completely down, that she was open and as vulnerable as she’d ever be in these moments.

Each thrust sent a stronger wave of pleasure through her, the sensation tingling around her clit and aching deep inside her. He massaged away that ache. Overcome by pleasure and emotions, she arched up, gasping. “Ah, I love you.”

His breaths were shaky, mouth hanging open, his arms encircling her head. Her words had his ears laying back, and he worked his hips with greater fervor, penetrating her as deeply as he could, until he could push no farther. “I love you too.”

Her hands swept over his back, over the bare skin at his shoulder blades and then the soft fabric of his yukata, appreciating his body heat bleeding through it. Heavy breaths and sloppy kisses found his collarbone, his shoulders. “I love you so much,” she couldn’t help but say again in a whisper. Another deep, wet kiss. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, instead keening quietly against his shoulder, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. When she found her voice again, it was weak, wavering. “I’m so glad you’re my husband.”

Their sweat stuck their skin together, but he kept rolling his hips with exaggerated motions, shivering as she clenched her muscles around him. It left him in ecstatic delirium. His ears laid flat against his skull, and he struggled to respond. “I am glad you are my wife.”

Completely swept away, she panted and whimpered beneath him, moving with him, applying pressure and impaling herself on his erection every time he thrust into her. She clenched around him again, grinning as he choked on thin air. Instead of relaxing her muscles, she held it, letting him glide in and out as she made herself tighter. Hearing him curse, she giggled, then nuzzled his damp neck, the ends of his hair tickling her cheeks.

Digging her nails into the backs of his shoulders, leaving crescent moons imprinted in his skin, she murmured, “I love being married to you.”

The fact she expressed this sentiment again and again made him feel like he was losing his mind. That combined with her increasing tightness had him rocking against her with greater passion, their skin slapping together. He couldn’t help himself. To ensure her pleasure, he brought a hand to her thigh, lifting her leg, grinding his waist against her clit the best he could. Her resulting keens, the cut of her nails into his back, told him he was succeeding.

“I love being with you like this,” he finally panted, then swallowed hard around his heavy breaths. “Nothing is more satisfying than enjoying my wife.”

“Ugh… Tomoe. Mm.” Once more, she arched, groaning, then relaxed and tilted her pelvis for the deepest penetration they could achieve. He angled his thrusts to rub against the spots that ached the most inside of her, alleviating her need, making her tremble.

It was a good thing she was writhing like she was, her body growing taut, because he didn’t think he’d last much longer. Especially not with her expressing her pleasure and scratching his back like that, and certainly not when she clenched around him in reward. Hearing her moans spurred him on, heightening the sensations that tingled over his skin. He rocked harder, desperate, alternating between grinding and thrusting. Her whimpers and the way she clung to him, whining his name, told him she was enjoying what he did. So he kept going, increasing the intensity, that pressure growing in his belly.

“You’re so hard,” she panted, drawing her lips over his shoulder, his throat. “And so big.”

A low moan pulled from him and he thrust into her several times, extra hard and extra slow. Gods, he was so close. His teeth locked, hand slipping at her thigh. She hooked her heel over his lower back, keeping her leg in position.

“Yes,” she gasped, lifting her hips, body rolling beneath his. Their hip bones cut into each other painfully, but she couldn’t stop, the sensation of his pelvis grinding over her clit, of him stretching her and filling her, too pleasant to pay it any mind.

She was so, so wet, he thought, shuddering as he became hyper aware of her folds gliding over his erection, adding to the friction of skin against skin. “I am going to come inside you,” he growled, the sound resonating in his chest. “I am going to mark you.”

“Do it,” she whispered. “Mate me.”

He could never hold back with her. No matter how he wanted to extend the encounter, it was much too pleasurable to drag out. He gasped each breath, his thrusts growing short and punctuated, their skin slapping together again. He felt her ass rippling with his thrusts, her body responding to his with equal desire. As his peak arrived, he thrust faster and faster, until a long moan pulled from him, the tension bleeding out of him. He penetrated her as deeply as he could, leaving his erection there as he came, spilling his seed deep within her. That was so instinctually satisfying.

“Mm, I love to feel you come,” she whispered breathlessly, humping his waist, grinding against him. As she continued to take what she needed from him, she whimpered, “I love to feel you so deep.”

An aftershock struck him and he groaned again, thrusting against her with abandon, drawing tiny cries from her. Her muscles loosened then tightened again, the action unconscious. If he could keep his erection a little longer… “You love to come around my dick, don’t you?” he purred.

“Yeah. It feels so good when you’re inside me.” She shivered as his weight covered her whole body, as he rolled his hips with maximum contact against her clit. “Mm, keep going, just like that.”

Resting his cheek against the pillow, holding her head against his shoulder and in the crook of his neck where she was safe, he grinded on her harder, spreading their combined wetness inside of her. Although sensitive, it felt good to know he was pleasing her. “Do you enjoy laying with me?”

She mouthed kisses over his collarbone. “Ugh, so much. You’re the perfect man.”

One of her hands found the back of his hair, clutching it in a fist. He was still hard, but she felt him losing some of his erection. Luckily, she was almost at completion. She humped him with greater vigor. Sparks of white hot pleasure coursed through her, and she whimpered, no longer able to uphold her persona. 

“Tomoe, ah, I love you.”

“That’s it,” he breathed, rolling his hips in more exaggerated movements, grasping the long strands of her hair that had fanned out over the bedding. “Let me give you relief.”

“Tomoe, Tomoe,” she whimpered, unable to stop. “Please...I love you. I love you.”

Nuzzling the top of her head, panting into her hair and staring at the lamp, he murmured, “I love you too.” Her body was quivering, her hands slipping at his head and back. “Almost there, my love. Come for me.”

“Tomoe…” She raked her nails down his back until she reached his yukata, then gripped the hem of it. “Don’t stop.”

“I will not stop until you come.” Based on the way she responded to him, he had no doubt he could make her come before he lost what was left of his erection.

Now unhinged, she pressed sloppy kisses all over every inch of skin she could reach — his throat, his shoulder, the top of his chest. “I love you.”

“Yes, I love you too.” Humming, he shut his eyes, tired and lazy. “Come on, Nanami. Let yourself feel pleasure. Let me pleasure you.”

“Ah, Tomoe.” She tensed, aware of her heart pounding in her chest. “Mmm.” She shuddered, and the next time he rubbed her clit with his pelvis, his erection gliding inside her, she burst. Groaning, she held him as tightly as possible, pressing their bodies flush, their hips working together to bring her to completion.

“There you go,” he whispered into her hair, feeling her muscles fluttering around him. “Does that feel good, my love?”

“Ah, yes, yes.” She grinded against him impossibly hard, the friction making her legs jerk. “I feel so good.”

She basked in the waves of pleasure, those deep contractions around his half erection, for a moment more. They both continued to move against each other until she went slack, and then he only rolled his hips against her in the slowest, lightest of movements, this affectionate thing. She clung to him, eyes screwed shut, face buried in the base of his throat. She panted against his sweat-ridden skin, her own hair feeling damp, every inch of her body coated in sweat.

Clutching the back of his bare shoulder and the edge of his yukata, she breathed the words once more. “I love you.”

A small laugh escaped him, his face warm, ears relaxing sideways. She was saying it more than usual tonight. “I love you too,” he said again, then kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her peach shampoo.

Even in the valleys of life — even in the moments that they fought or things went wrong — Nanami had never felt safer. That depth of trust had allowed her to relax and find her peace, her happiness, her past wounds slowly stitching themselves back together. That was how she felt now, wrapped in his body, pressed beneath him, the two of them impossibly close to each other. She nuzzled him, once again thinking about how funny it was that she’d imagined what having a husband would be like when they’d first fooled around — and that was exactly how it’d turned out. She slept in his bed every night. They came home to each other every day. And they shared everything. She hadn’t known a relationship like this could exist — and she could never express her gratitude for him enough.

Since Nanami had gone completely silent, clinging to him, Tomoe found himself wondering if she was all right. Sometimes, she cried after sex, and based on how her emotions had cracked through several times that day, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she teared up now too. For a few minutes, he gave her space, lying on top of her and keeping full body contact, his mouth and nose buried in the top of her hair with his fingers entangled in the strands. She hadn’t sniffed yet, and he didn’t feel or smell tears, but the way she held him made him wonder.

Eventually, he found his tongue. “What is on your mind?”

His voice broke through her memories, and she blinked. “I was just remembering,” she said, voice faint. At first, she wasn’t going to expand on it, not wanting to loop back to something they’d discussed again and again, but when he nudged her temple with his nose, she realized he wanted her to say it. Even if he already knew. Tracing light patterns against the back of his shoulder, she said, “I’m finally feeling like things are stable. Like…permanently. And it’s kinda scary because I feel like...if I let my guard down, maybe something will go wrong. My life has never been this happy. And I’ve been happy for five years…” Here, she laughed. “It’s unusual.”

“No,” he murmured, letting the strands of her long hair slip between his fingers, “it is not unusual anymore. This is our new normal.” He kissed her, then nuzzled her hair.

“I know. We’ve talked about this a thousand times.” She laughed.

“That is all right. Talk to me about it a thousand more. I understand. It took a long time to get here.” He smiled, cradling her head in an arm. “But you are my wife. You can talk to me about anything, no matter how many times we have discussed it before.”

She relaxed entirely, running a hand slowly up and down his back, savoring his weight on top of her, the way he caressed her so lovingly, the sensation of his lips brushing her temple. “I’m glad.” Shutting her eyes, she drew in a deep breath of his scent, comfort washing over her. “Tomoe?”

“Hm?”

“I just want you to know — I’ve always trusted you.” She clutched the back of his yukata, clinging to him with all her might. “I know our first two years together were rough, and I know you had to assure me a lot. A lot more than you should’ve had to, honestly. But I’m so glad you were patient with me. Maybe I’m not always secure about everything, but if there’s one thing I’m always going to be secure about — it’s you.”

Blinking, he lifted up enough to look down at her. In response, she pulled him on top of her again, and a small sound of surprise left him. She needed skin to skin contact, he realized. Carefully, he eased onto her body.

His thoughts redirected to her words, and he smiled, his heart fluttering, so full of love for the woman beneath him. “I am so happy to hear that,” he said quietly, his smile growing wider, his face warm. “I had hoped that one day you could feel this way. Perhaps it took a long time, but I would never consider what we had unhealthy. We have had a wonderful relationship from the moment we became friends.” He nuzzled the crown of her head. “We each had our flaws. But I found something special in you. I would not have given up on you for anything.”

Her smile grew to the point of painful, tears welling up in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have given up on you either,” she admitted. “There was something about you… I’m glad we didn’t give up. It’s just crazy to think of everything we’ve been through, huh?”

“Mm, it is.” Tomoe laid his cheek on the pillow, facing towards her. One hand remained entangled in her hair. “But the important thing is that we are together now. I promised you I would make you happy, and I will keep making you happy.”

“And I’ll keep making you happy too.” Nanami blinked, a couple of tears spilling over. A second later, his weight shifted on her, and then she felt his warm lips kiss her tears away. His hot tongue followed his kisses, drawing a giggle from her.

“I have always been happy with you. If it was not for you, I would not have the peaceful life we have now.” He kissed her cheek. “Now enough of that. You have had a long day, and I know you are tired.” Another kiss, and then he spoke in her ear. “We should clean up, and then you should get some sleep.”

Too tired to argue with that, she grinned and nodded. His weight shifted on her, and then she tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. On a whim, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

His eyes softened, a smile twitching on his lips, his ears relaxed. No matter how many times she said it, it never got old. “And I love you.”

With that, he leaned down to meet her, tilting his head as she tilted hers. Their lips met, and they kissed deeply, melting into each other’s bodies, into the safety of each other’s embrace. 

Perhaps this wasn’t the life they’d envisioned when they’d first run away together, when they’d first married, but it was the life they’d needed. At the end of the day, this was what fate had always planned for them. Fate worked in mysterious ways, but it was never wrong. Through the ups and downs, one thing was constant — and that was the knowledge that their lives would be forever entwined, their future full of family and warmth and love. As long as they had that, they would never be hopeless again.