Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After Nanami had spoken to Mikage and Tomoe about her future, she was exhausted. That same night, she’d gone to bed as soon as she’d eaten, and she’d slept for nearly twelve hours. Perhaps she’d slept too much, or perhaps the decision had taken a bigger emotional toll on her than she’d realized, because she was still tired by Friday. And while she should’ve simply relaxed, she felt much too antsy for that. There was no chance that she’d be able to sleep.

It was Tomoe who’d suggested that sex might help relieve some of her tension. Prior to dinner, he’d indulged her thrice, each session only serving to leave her wanting more. As a headache came on, she began to think they’d overdone it, but eating and taking a hot bath helped just enough.

Now she was waiting for Tomoe in the futon, lying on her back and staring up at the canopy, her hands resting on her stomach. She felt a little cold, and it made her wish he was already in bed with her, so she could cuddle up to him and derive some comfort from his body heat. Sinking deeper into the covers, she sighed and found herself longing for his embrace. She felt oddly needy, a strange weakness encompassing her body.

Briefly, the thought crossed her mind — that perhaps this was a symptom of her energy draining yet again. Things had been quiet for far too long, and while she hoped that Ookuninushi’s energy had helped put a stop to that, no one had confirmed anything. As long as no one told her that her parasitic connection to him had been removed, then she still had to consider it a possibility.

Another shiver wracked her from head to toe, and she rolled to her side, curling up into herself. No, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut, she shouldn’t think about it. She didn’t want to fret or wrack herself with even more anxiety when she ought to be recovering from the week’s stress. Again, she wished Tomoe would hurry up and come back, that his presence would reassure her in all the ways she needed.

Thankfully, she didn’t need to wait long. Within five minutes, she heard the door slide open, and then footsteps came her way. Wordlessly, Tomoe ducked into the canopy and settled in beside her. Another pang of longing hit her, and she shifted closer to him, pressing her face into the front of his yukata.

“Will you hold me for a while?” she found herself asking.

“Of course.” He lay on his side as well, opening his arms to her. As soon as she’d crawled closer, he enveloped her in an embrace, their legs tangling together beneath the sheets.

She had been awfully clingy to him today, Tomoe thought, staring down at the crown of her head as she gripped him with all her might. Of course she’d been particularly emotional over her future, but he had a feeling it wasn’t the only reason. After three rounds of sex earlier, she was surely feeling extra sensitive and attached to him. Not that he would complain; it sent a small tingle of joy through him that she reached for him, that she needed him in this way. Smiling, he pressed her close to his chest.

For a few minutes, neither of them said anything, simply holding each other. Gradually, Nanami began to warm up, and her shivering ceased. After his bath, his body was so hot to the touch, and it made her thoughts go haywire, her desire for his body to cover hers once more spiking. She felt so skin-starved. And yet he was here with her, right after they’d gone through multiple rounds already.

“Tomoe?” she whispered before she could even think about it, her fingertips grazing the fold of his yukata.

He felt the yearning in her touch, in the way she toyed with the front of his yukata. Whether she was aware of it or not, her hand had drifted lower down his chest, her fingertips hooked in the overlap of fabric. Her body was zinging with a sexual energy that even she didn’t seem to be fully aware of yet, and it made him lift a brow.

He’d bound the effects from Ookuninishi’s energy, had dampened her sensitivity and her drive, but it seemed that whatever had come over her was powerful enough to break through. In that case, perhaps it was genuine, he thought, slipping his hand over hers.

“Yes?” he murmured, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand, laying his cheek on the pillow next to her head. When she only gazed at him, dazed, he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers one by one, lightly nipping at them. “Nanami, if you wish for more pleasure, I am more than happy to give it to you. I am a sex god, after all.”

Her cheeks tinged pink, and she couldn’t help but giggle. It seemed she was that easy to read, she thought. Still, the brush of his lips against her fingertips sent tingles up and down her spine. There was no denying it.

“I was just thinking…about lying naked with you, because your skin feels really hot.” Her eyes trailed to the part in his clothing, giving her a glimpse of his collarbone.

His brows lifted, his lips quirking. “Oh?” With a chuckle, he brought her hand to his mouth again. “Then by all means… Do as you please.”

The moment he voiced his approval, she pulled her hand from his, lighting it on the tie of his yukata. She fumbled with the back of it until she got it loose, and then she undid the tie of her own yukata. As soon as they were both partially disrobed, she shifted closer, until her hips had met his, their bodies pressed flush together. Like this, he felt even hotter, his temperature enveloping her, chasing away any remaining goosebumps.

More than that, though, she ached at the sensation of bare skin against skin, ached for the man she knew so well. She rubbed his strong shoulder, brushing his yukata down to his bicep, revealing his toned muscles. Unable to help herself, she bent down to kiss his shoulder and the base of his throat, her breaths a little shakier.

With a soft, playful growl, he encircled his arms around her waist, rolling onto his back and bringing her with him. She uttered a small cry of surprise, but as the dust settled, she relaxed. Reaching up, he pulled her yukata down shoulder by shoulder, until she was bare. Then, he ran a forefinger between her breasts, all the way to her navel, his eyes falling on the place where his pelvis met hers.

“You did not wear underwear,” he mused, planting his palm flat against her waist, drawing his thumb over her clit. “Were you already planning this?”

Her skin flushed from the sudden contact, and after all the pleasure they’d shared, she felt extra sensitive. Her hips twitched, her breath catching, and she bore down on his pelvis, wriggling to get closer, to feel more, to alleviate some of that need between her legs. “I wasn’t, really. I guess it was subconscious?”

“Subconscious?” he echoed, eyes dancing with amusement. Already, she’d slipped further down his pelvis, the soft skin of her folds pressed to the underside of his growing erection, and he shivered. A small groan escaped him.

It was strange how her body had decided for her, she thought. But there was no harm in indulging it, especially not when Tomoe was willing and eager. Her eyes drifted, watching him flex his claws involuntarily, and she paused. The words blurted from her mouth before she’d had time to consider them. “Can I tie you up again?”

She’d tied him up three times already, he wanted to say, but wisely held his tongue. Instead, he merely smirked up at her. “Of course you may.”

Maybe it wasn’t fair, to ask him while she sat on his dick, she thought. She was almost certain he’d do about anything in this position. But that sparkle in his eye assured her, telling her that he was more in control of his senses than she thought. Quickly, she retrieved the handcuffs from the bedside table and clicked them around his wrists, her knees planted on the futon on either side of him. She hovered over his body, her nose brushing his and her breaths panting harshly against his face, her hands pinning his wrists down above his head.

Another wave of desire crashed inside of her, and she bit back a whimper. How could she get so horny so fast? Seeing him like this, laid out on the futon before her, his hair spread and his amethyst eyes violet in the low light made him look particularly seductive. A throb clenched between her legs, and she aligned their hips, until the tip of his erection bumped her entrance. Again, her muscles tightened, desperate for him to stretch her, and so she reached one hand down, guiding herself down on his length.

The sudden heat of her body, the snug embrace of her muscles around his erection, drew a long sigh from him. Pleasure pooled in his belly, and his eyes fluttered shut, his fingers closing in over themselves in his palms.

“What has gotten you so excitable?” he asked with a little purr, shivering as she rocked against him.

Planting her palms against the futon, Nanami leaned forward to rub herself against his waist, hair hanging over his chest, drawing a flinch from him. “I don’t know,” she said, already out of breath. She tossed her hair back only for it to slide down again, the ends dancing over his skin. “Maybe because we didn’t for so long?”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, then his mouth fell open, a shaky gasp catching in his throat as she clenched around him.

“Are you sick of it?” she asked, leaning down and mouthing at his collarbone, his chest. Her hands swept over his sides, nails scraping over the outline of his ribcage.

“Hardly,” he panted, rolling his hips up. He paused to bask in the moment, in the sensations that flooded over him.

Even in his fogged up mind, he couldn’t help but wonder how it suddenly seemed so easy for Nanami to come again. She’d struggled and struggled, but now she couldn’t get enough of him, orgasming as easily as she did when they’d first married. Yes, the binding had certainly weakened, although he wasn’t sure how. Clenching his fists, trembling in his bonds, the thought was chased from his mind as she moved more quickly on him, now stretching out for full body contact.

She wasn’t sure what made her so desperate for him, but she found herself wanting multiple orgasms again. Whimpering, she paused to extend an arm and open the drawer to her bedside table. “Do you mind if I use this?” she asked, holding the bullet vibrator up. “I wanna keep coming.”

Mouth still hanging open, Tomoe stared at her with a half-lidded, lustful gaze. “Please.”

With that permission, she switched it on and rubbed it against her clit. A high-pitched moan caught in her throat and she lay on him, trapping the vibrator between their bodies, panting as she rubbed herself against the toy as well as his erection.

That extra stimulation from the vibrator had him choking on his spit. He groaned, rocking up to meet her, waves of strong pleasure making it difficult to think. He wished he could touch her, that she wouldn’t tie him up anymore. After all, his wrists were sore from wearing the handcuffs four times that night. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on her warm body, on her tightness hugging his erection.

Inebriated by her pleasure, she rubbed her clit in circles against the vibrator and asked him, “Do you think you’re gonna come multiple times too?”

A cut laugh caught in his throat. “Most likely not.”

“Is what we’re doing not enough for that?” she panted, grinding against him harder. Why was she so horny?

He bit back a groan. Not this again. Not to mention she was having a conversation during sex. “No, I have already come three times. It will be a dry orgasm anyway.” He sucked in a sharp breath, trembling beneath her. That moment of distraction bought her time to say something more.

“Then why can’t you come multiple times if it’s already dry?”

Opening his eyes, ears lowered sideways, he found her face flushed, eyes sparking, a small pout on her lips. “Don’t be offended! I cannot help it.” It was time to make her shut up. “Kiss me.”

Luckily, she didn’t push it further, instead obeying and leaning up to press her mouth to his. They kissed each other deeply, hungrily, tongues wandering in each other’s mouths. Despite having gone so many times that evening, Tomoe could feel that tension building in his pelvis, leaving his limbs twitching and toes curling. Perhaps it was because he was so sensitive now — or maybe it was the merciless way she took what she wanted from him. Either way, he was already breathing raggedly through his nose, humming into her mouth.

Little whimpers escaped her as she kissed him, all teeth and tongue and saliva. His canines sliced her tongue by accident, causing her to wince, but she kept going. An interesting sensation washed over her — that tingle of pleasure from his teeth, and she found herself wanting more.

“Bite me,” she said breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

A gasp caught in his throat. Of course he tasted the blood in her mouth, no matter how minuscule it might be, but he hadn’t expected her to ask him that ever again. “Are you sure?” A pause, and she whispered ‘ yes ’ against his lips. Encouraged, he murmured, “Where?”

Nanami shivered. Where did she want it? Since she had a lot to do the following day, she decided he shouldn’t bite her lips or tongue even though she really wanted that. The weather had cooled, so she supposed if he bit her neck, she could cover it with a turtleneck or a scarf. “My neck,” she panted, eyes falling shut. She lifted her chin, extending her neck for him. “Near the base, okay?”

Leaning up, Tomoe brushed his lips to her throat. “Right here?” He dragged his lips lower and to the side, at the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Or here?”

“The second one,” she said, then bit her lip and hummed in desperate pleasure, pressing the button to intensify the vibrations. Both she and Tomoe gasped at the same time. “That feels good to you too, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he purred. Once again, she talked to him like he talked to her. It never failed to reignite the fire within him, and he did as she’d asked, sinking his teeth into the base of her throat, keeping the pressure gentle to start.

A shock of pleasure rippled through her and she moaned, twitching as a shallow orgasm wracked her body. “Ugh, harder,” she breathed, rocking against him with more intensity. His jaws clenched, the resulting pain making her whimper. “Harder.”

Usually these days, he wouldn’t give into such a request, but the way she bounced on him made it too difficult to think, his mind scrambled and blank. He bit down with more force, tightening his jaw like a vise as she kept begging harder. Eventually, the taste of blood filled his mouth and it clicked in his brain that he needed to stop. Even though she begged him to go harder, he refused.

He must’ve reached his limit, Nanami thought. By now, she’d forgotten everything else, louder moans leaving her. She turned up the vibrator again, flinching at that overstimulated electricity coursing through her legs. The bubble inside her swelled until her body couldn’t contain it anymore, and then she jolted, a strong orgasm shaking her.

“Oh, Tomoe,” she whispered, riding him with abandon. She nearly collapsed but caught herself.

Since she wasn’t letting up, Tomoe continued to rock back against her, breaths falling heavily through his nose. The heat built inside him, and he whimpered against her throat, running his tongue languidly over the skin he could reach, teeth embedded at her collarbone. As soon as that wave passed, he felt the vibrations increase again, leaving her impossibly wet. Once more, her muscles contracted around him.

When would she be satisfied? She felt like a dog in heat, grinding against him with animal fervor, moans and soft cries escaping her. Between his teeth in her throat, the vibrator on her clit, and his erection buried deep inside her, she couldn’t even think.

“I can’t help myself,” she whispered. “It’s just so hot to see you tied up.”

Moaning against her throat, he thrust up against her, unravelling. He didn’t respond with words, but he sucked her skin, prepared to leave a mark. To know she found him so enticing only whetted his appetite for her, his hormones raging.

“Ugh, Tomoe .” Those pulses fluttered between her legs again, and this time she clenched her muscles to press him against all those aching spots inside of her.

She’d already come four times in this encounter alone. “You are insatiable,” he said, pulling off her throat. As a droplet of blood trickled down from her collarbone, he used the tip of his tongue to follow it back to its source. The resulting shiver from Nanami was well worth it.

“I know,” she whimpered, rubbing herself in slow, agonizing circles against his hips, against her toy. Another sharp gasp; another round of that throbbing sensation that made her heart beat uncontrollably. “Bite my breasts.”

Wordlessly, he kissed a trail down from her collarbone to her breast. He drew a tongue over her hardened nipple, smirking at her resulting moan. At her encouragement to bite it, he clamped his incisors around her nipple, starting gently and increasing the pressure as she begged. She came again.

Sparks of red hot pleasure raced up and down her spine as he bit her nipple. The words spilled fluidly from her mouth. “I want your fangs in my breast and your tongue on my nipple.”

He sank his fangs into the tender skin of her breast, his tongue swiping over her nipple. Her desperation for him had increased tenfold, and it made him so hard he couldn’t think straight. He began to lick her nipple with more gusto, faster, drawing cries from her. Her muscles clenched, and she came again. 

The tinge of iron hit his tongue, and he realized what he’d done. Concerned he’d hurt her, he ran a soothing tongue over the puncture wounds. Her gasps sounded painful above him, and he wondered if she would be all right. It was time to check in.

Between wet kisses pressed to her breasts, his breath playing in heated puffs against the residual saliva, he asked in broken speech, “Are you all right?”

Inhaling deeply, she nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m feeling so good,” she told him, and then her mouth fell open, thighs twitching as a shallower orgasm rippled through her.

“I think we need to finish,” he told her, drawing a tongue over her nipple. As much as he enjoyed her being so reactive, her heart was beating much too quickly for his comfort.

She squirmed. “Okay,” she whimpered. It was hard to stop, but he was clearly done. She couldn’t blame him. After all the sex they’d had, it was likely he felt raw. “Do you wanna stop now or do you want to finish?”

As much as he knew he should say they should stop now, he was at the mercy of his own body. “Finish me, but do it quickly,” he breathed, mouthing at her nipples. “Clench around me. Turn your vibrator up.”

Nodding, she turned her toy up one more level, shaking all over at the intensity. Her hips jerked as she came, throbbing around him and crying out. Beneath her, his body went rigid, and he sucked a breath in through his teeth.

“Ugh, fuck me,” she whined, feeling completely out of control, outside of herself.

She was much too excitable. As much as he’d told himself to be cautious, her body felt too good, and Tomoe had to shut his eyes as he felt them rolling back. He moaned against her breasts between kissing and sucking at them, playing with her nipples. Just as he’d instructed, she clenched around him again and again. He felt her flutter around him a few more times, each time growing louder and more vocal. That sensation built inside of him as well, and he arched, spine going rigid and body trembling from the pent up tension.

In the next second, a long, explosive sigh shuddered from him, and he reached his own release. Just as he’d anticipated, he could tell from the sensation that he had nothing left to fill her with, but it was pleasurable all the same. His reaction seemed to spur her on too, because she whimpered and rode him much harder, humping against his waist and her vibrator.

His name flew from her mouth again and again, her body quivering as several more orgasms passed through her in quick procession. She could feel it building up, each one stronger than the last, moving towards the grand finale. His lips found her nipples again, his hot tongue swiping over them, and the sensations increased to a peak. It tightened, winding up with every spark of energy inside of her, and then she moaned out loud as she finally found relief, body jerking with those contractions. It lasted for nearly a minute as it tapered off, and then she felt chafed and uncomfortable. Quickly, she switched off the vibrator. She collapsed on top of him, her breasts in his face.

This was lovely, he thought with a smirk as he found his face between her breasts. Kissing her skin, he tasted the salt that had accumulated there from her sweat, noticing how her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. After a moment, he found his tongue.

“You got very excited.”

A shaky laugh left her, and she felt pleasantly warm, sated. Wrapping her arms around his head, she cradled him close to her breasts. “It felt so good,” she told him, stroking his ears. “I feel a lot better now.”

“Mm, are you finally satisfied?” he asked, nuzzling against her breasts and nipping at her tender skin.

“Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes. She felt so tired, like she’d bled all her energy out. “Ugh, Tomoe.” Her hand stilled on his head. 

Something about her right now concerned him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He kissed her sternum. Again, he asked, “Are you all right?”

Still panting softly, she rested her head against the futon, rubbing his ear again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She swallowed. “Why?”

How could he put it in words? He’d teased her about being a succubus before, but she’d truly seemed unhinged this time. That had always been a sensitive subject for her, so he approached the physiological angle first. “You are breathing very hard,” he said, nuzzling against her breast. “And your heart is beating too fast.”

“Yeah, because we just had sex,” she spat, huffing.

“It is harder than usual,” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss to her skin. “You seem out of breath.”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, annoyed.

Although he was hardly convinced, it wasn’t worth arguing with her about. Certainly not when she’d already had a tough time the last few days, and the whole point had been to get her to relax. He heaved a sigh and sagged into the bedding.

After a moment of silence, of them lying there, of her petting his ears while he gave her space to relax, he nudged her gently. His arms ached and the cuffs cut into his wrists. There was no doubt he’d have bruises later. She didn’t notice, continuing to thread her fingers through his hair, more slowly this time. Her energy seemed exhausted. 

“Would you free me?” he griped. Inwardly, he tacked on, “Before you pass out.”

“Okay,” she sighed, disentangling herself from him. She’d overdone it, she thought. She ached between her legs and her clit felt rubbed raw, not to mention the bite marks throbbed and she felt drained. Her hands shook as she found the key and sprang him free from the cuffs, eliciting a sigh of relief from him.

Sitting up, he rubbed his wrists, glancing down at them. Sure enough, red and purple marks encircled them, particularly at the bony parts. It wasn’t anything to worry about, so he turned his attention to her. “Cuddle with me,” he said, adjusting the pillows and then reclining on his back. He wanted to keep an eye on her for a few minutes.

A smile flickered over her mouth and she crawled under the duvet, lifting it and covering his body. She curled up against his side, embracing him, her head on his shoulder. “I remember when you didn’t wanna do this,” she said with a soft laugh.

He laughed as well, drawing long fingers through her silky hair. “I love to cuddle,” he admitted, though he said it in barely audible tones. This drew a giggle from her, and he frowned. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not. It’s cute.” She smiled and traced a forefinger in patterns over his chest. “Why didn’t you want to cuddle back then?”

A groan escaped him. “Wasn’t it obvious? I did not want you to get close to me.”

“Why?” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I was your wife anyway, so you might as well, right?”

A wry smirk twisted his mouth. “I did not want you pining for me,” he said. “I did not want you getting your hopes up when yokai and humans are so different.”

She swatted at him. “You’re dumb. Yokai aren’t so different after all.”

Oh, yes they were, he thought, but decided not to rub it in her face. It was a topic they’d already talked to death, and he’d rather simply accept that they had different views on it than have another pointless discussion. Instead, he continued to pet her hair, tilting an ear to check on her breathing. Good, she was calming down. 

As they fell quiet, Nanami laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. Her limbs felt like noodles, this leaden and unpleasant feeling, but she told herself that was just from having sex so much. Her thighs did ache from riding him so vigorously. Declining to say anything, she ran a gentle hand over his chest.

Now that she seemed relaxed, if not a bit tired, his thoughts shifted to the topic he’d wanted to bring up all week. Perhaps it wasn’t the ideal time, but they’d have to talk about it sooner or later. He cleared his throat. “I would like to have a conversation with you.”

Lifting an eyebrow, she tilted her chin to gaze up at him and then burst a laugh. “You can just say whatever you want,” she giggled. 

“I said that in case you were too tired,” he grumbled. “Excuse me for being considerate.”

A laugh caught in her throat and she nuzzled against his chest, eyes falling shut. “You’re sweet. It’s okay — you can talk to me. I like it when you do.”

He doubted she’d like this conversation. He sighed. “Nanami, my love,” he began, softening it with a term of endearment, “do you wish to stay at Mikage shrine?” That was all he said; he already knew the answer, but he held his breath anyway.

She blinked, wondering where that had come from. Then again, she hadn’t stayed at his shrine since mid-September — and it was already November. “Oh…” She bit her lip. It was nothing she’d consciously decided, but now that he’d brought it up, she realized — she wanted to stay for a while longer. Hugging him a little tighter, she asked, “Would you be mad if I said yes?”

There it was. He sighed and then swallowed hard, continuing to play with her hair. Instead of answering her question, he asked another of his own. “You want to stay with Mikage, don’t you? Because he is like a father to you.”

Her face felt warm and she let her gaze drift to the wall. Half burying her face in his chest, she hummed, this pathetic and hesitant sound. “I do love you,” she said, this consolation prize, this tongue licking over any hypothetical wounds she’d inflicted. “But I’ve never had parents.”

“Yes, you said that earlier,” he murmured, running his hand through her hair. “Will you answer me directly? I believe I already know the answer, but I need to hear it from you.”

Shutting her eyes, she sighed. If she thought about staying here long-term, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. A part of her would miss living at his shrine, yet she ached for guidance, for wisdom, outside of her and Tomoe’s experiences. There were some things that he wasn’t good with — particularly anything to do with modern life in the human world — and Mikage always seemed to have an answer where that was concerned. Not to mention, the way that Mikage looked out for her and guided her felt much like she imagined it would to finally have a parental figure in her life.

After a long silence, she finally responded. “I’ve never had anyone to talk to about this stuff… Y’know, the whole going to college and establishing my life thing. It’s not like I won’t talk to you about it, but… When I need advice, I don’t know who to go to.”

He hummed. “So you are saying that Mikage provides that for you.”

Here, she nodded, giving him a squeeze. “It’s not that I don’t want to go back to your shrine. It’s just…there are still some things I wanna figure out. I need to find my footing again. So…” She smiled wanly, shrugging one shoulder.

A sigh collapsed his chest. “I know. You need a more neutral party, as I am too opinionated. I am harsh.”

To hear him talk about himself like that made Nanami’s chest feel a little hollow. “Tomoe,” she whispered, straightening up and nuzzling against his cheek, her eyes falling shut. “I love you. It’s okay that you’re like that. I need you to be like that — it’s why we’re good together. It’s got nothing to do with you; I just need someone to have that role in my life right now.”

Relief washed over Tomoe. His ears relaxed and he smiled, shutting his eyes as well and nuzzling back against her. “I am glad. I need you to be who you are too.” He ran his other hand over her side to her hip. Another sigh and his smile faded.

Even without opening her eyes, Nanami could feel the difference in his energy. She touched his cheek and pecked him at the corner of the mouth, the gesture delicate. “Does it hurt you?” When he hummed questioningly, she continued, “That I want to stay here.”

A much longer sigh. She wouldn’t like this. “Somewhat.” He paused, and she started pressing kisses to his cheeks again and again. Allowing it, he expanded on his feelings. “I have to stay at my shrine sometimes. I cannot abandon it or leave it without a kami. You know that.”

“I do,” she whispered. “But don’t take it to mean I don’t want to live with you. You can still sleep with me every night.”

“Nanami, you are my wife,” he said, brushing his fingers against her arm. Finally, he opened his eyes to meet hers, that soft, sweet gaze he’d grown so accustomed to. “I understand you need Mikage, but I need you.” He swallowed, pupils following every minute flicker of her eyes. “What you need is important to me, but this is something I need from you — to live with me.”

She nodded slowly in acknowledgment. Rarely did he push back as far as their personal needs were concerned, so it must be pretty serious to him. Of course it was — she remembered how she’d felt about abandoning Mikage shrine.

Seeing how she didn’t reply, he realized he hadn’t laid out his terms. “What about this — instead of every two weeks, we come here every other week?” He wrapped her hair around his fingers. As she chewed at her lip, indecisive, he reminded her, “Our marriage should come first.”

“You’re right,” she said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel like I’m not making you a priority.” She laid a hand on his chest again, rubbing it soothingly. What he asked was reasonable, so she leaned in to kiss his nose. “We can do that.”

Another wave of relief washed over him, and he smiled, leaning up to kiss her. “Thank you.”

She tilted her head, smiling tiredly down at him. All of the sudden, her head swam, and she felt weak. She shut her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose, attempting to steady herself. Luckily, the dizziness passed, leaving her only feeling drained. She sure hoped whatever had brought about this spell would be gone by tomorrow, since she had a full day ahead of her. But, just in case, she decided asking for a little support wouldn’t hurt.

“Hey, Tomoe?”

He stroked her hair, watching her face, thinking to himself — she looked pale. Fresh concern and tenderness washed over him. “Yes, my love?”

Lying on her stomach, arms folded on his chest, she gazed up at him. “Ami, Kei, Kurama, and I have to work on some booths for the cultural festival tomorrow. But I can’t help out for long because I have work in the afternoon.” Here, he hummed, staring into her eyes. “Do you think you could help us put them together? None of us really knows how to build things, and we need someone who can lift heavy stuff.”

A small laugh escaped him and he shook his head. Feeling her tense, he petted the back of her head. “Yes, of course.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her hair. At least she asked for help instead of pushing herself.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, eyelids feeling heavy. She should clean up, she thought, but she was way too tired.

As she seemed to be falling asleep, Tomoe’s smile faded. Brow furrowing, eyes soft, he lifted a strand of her hair and kissed it slowly. “Nanami?” She hummed. “I am worried about you.”

She cracked open an eye. “Why?”

“You seem to be quite drained,” he murmured, tucking the strand of her hair behind her ear. “I hope you are not coming down with a cold.”

She sighed. “You worry too much. I’m just tired.” When he didn’t respond, something tense and hesitant hovering in the air, she took his hand and pressed it to her chest. “See? I’m fine. It’s back to normal.”

His expression softened, and he shook his head, uttering a singular laugh. “I wasn’t talking about that, though it is always lovely when you let me touch your breasts.” This elicited a glare from her, and he laughed again. Then, smile fading, he said, “No, it is hard to put my finger on. But I do think perhaps my binding is coming undone.”

“What, on Ookuninushi’s energy?”

“Yes,” he replied, lightly stroking his fingers against her breast. “You have been insatiable, and you have been coming like you do when I use my powers on you. Even as reactive as you are, it is unusual.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, but you can bind it again if you need to, right?”

“Yes, but I wonder why it is coming undone,” he said, voice sounding faraway. His fingertip brushed against her nipple, eliciting a shiver from her.

Slipping further up his body, Nanami released his hand and then pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I’m really tired, Tomoe. Can we talk later?”

He studied her for a moment. “Very well, but clean up.”

Here, she shook her head. She didn’t have the energy. “Maybe after I sleep a little. Okay?”

He paused. He shouldn’t allow her to be so careless, but he sensed the miniature tremors rippling through her body, ones he doubted even she had picked up on them yet. “All right,” he said. Then, rolling over, he opened his arms to her. “Come here and let me spoon you.”

A smile flickered over her lips, and she rolled with her back to him. He snuggled close, an arm wrapping around her waist, his lips bumping the back of her head. With a sigh, she shifted deeper in the duvet, basking in the heat of his body. It was only then that she realized she felt cold again. “Good night,” she murmured. 

He kissed her again, this time at the temple. He felt her shiver this time. “Good night.” Another soft kiss, and he whispered in her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, and then she shut her eyes. She slipped into a dreamless state almost instantly.

Chapter Text

It was only thanks to Tomoe’s punctuality that Nanami made it out of bed the next morning. She’d slept straight through the night — through her alarm clock — and she still felt heavy and sluggish, her sleep hardly refreshing. She dragged herself to the bathroom, her hips and thighs sore and cramped; she ached between her legs and standing made it worse. Since it would be a long day, she took a painkiller and then went to the kitchen for something to eat, although she didn’t have much of an appetite.

By the time she came out, there was no sign of Tomoe — or Mizuki for that matter — but she did find Mikage at the table. “Where’s Mizuki?” she half-groaned, opening the refrigerator, dismayed for once that she didn’t have someone to help her when she was barely on her feet.

“I think he’s in the garden,” Mikage replied. 

“Ugh.” She retrieved a carton of eggs and just stood there in front of the open refrigerator for a moment, her head swimming, foggy.

She didn’t know how long she’d been staring blankly before Mikage spoke up again. “Nanami-san, are you all right?”

Half to herself, she muttered, “I don’t want to eat.” She put the eggs back on the shelf and closed the refrigerator. Instead, she opted to put the electric kettle on and slumped over the counter, holding her head in a hand.

“Nanami-san?” By now, Mikage’s voice held an air of concern.

Realizing he’d spoken to her, she blinked. “I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I just feel kinda crummy. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Worry creased Mikage’s brow. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll go get Mizuki—“

“No, it’s okay.” She waved her hands. “I don’t want breakfast anyway. My stomach feels weird.” She sank down into one of the cushions, closing her eyes for a moment before the room spun her into sickness.

Gradually, the feeling passed, leaving her centered once more. She opened her eyes slowly, but the room was no longer spinning. Still, she wondered if she ought to be still for a while, just to keep it from happening again. She would’ve kept staring at the table had Mikage not coughed a little. That drew her attention back to him.

“I’m not trying to pry,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “but I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

She blinked, unfocused. “Huh?”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress recently,” Mikage said, adjusting his glasses, his gaze sympathetic. “But you’re still giving everything your all. Please be sure to rest too.”

That wouldn’t be possible today, she thought, releasing a shuddering sigh. She didn’t have the energy to argue with him, though. “I will,” she promised wearily. “And, anyway, Tomoe’s going to help me today. So it won’t be as hard on me.”

“It would be better if you stayed home,” Mikage told her, his soft eyes locked with hers. “But if you truly can’t get out of it, then yes — let him take care of anything strenuous.”

To this, she only nodded, eyes glazing over. Something within her had changed since their discussion about her future, about Tomoe waiving her debt and supporting her through college. Maybe it was just the relief that she didn’t have to fight tooth and nail anymore after nearly two decades of struggling to survive. Deep inside, she knew it shouldn’t make her feel this tired.

“Also, ahh…” Mikage’s expression turned sheepish. “Maybe Tomoe should be more careful towards you.”

Bewilderment creased Nanami’s brow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just a suggestion, but since you haven’t felt well, maybe take it easy.” Something like embarrassment flashed across his face. “You, ah, seem to have injured your neck.”

Eyes widening, she realized she’d walked out in her yukata — and it didn’t cover the bite marks. Squeaking, she covered her face. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right—“

That was when another thought crossed her mind and she snapped her head up, wide eyes locked on his face. “Did anything, um, disturb you last night?”

Again, he looked uncomfortable, shifting his gaze away. “Like I said, you should be more careful.”

“You...you heard us?” she finally asked, voice barely audible.

His smile flickered wanly. “I’m sorry.”

They’d been too loud, she realized, mortified, her hands coming to her very warm face. “Oh, no, I am so sorry! We should’ve thought to put up a barrier. Ugh.”

“No harm done,” he insisted, waving a hand. “Just be sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

This was so humiliating, she thought. Mikage might as well be her father, and he’d heard her having sex with her husband. At least Mikage was already aware of what went on in their relationship, she thought grimly. It would’ve felt much more awkward otherwise.

The kettle finished boiling, tearing her from her thoughts. Too exhausted to make tea properly, she rummaged through the cabinets until she found a tea bag. After she poured water into her cup, she picked it up and headed for the doorway. “I’m going to change,” she told Mikage. “I need to leave soon.” She paused as he murmured an ‘okay’ but she didn’t let him get further than that. “And I’m really, really sorry about last night. We’ll be quiet from now on, I promise.”

“It’s all right. I’m not upset,” he insisted. He started to open his mouth again, but he didn’t get the chance to say whatever he was going to say. 

“I’m glad. Well, um, I’ll see you later.” She bowed her head slightly, and then scampered to her room with her cup of tea. What a headache. Maybe going back to Tomoe’s shrine wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

—

The tea didn’t really help, but Nanami dressed and left with Tomoe when he came to get her anyway. He’d disguised himself in his human form, a detail she’d completely forgotten about — and was grateful that he remembered. Holding onto his hand, she ignored the weird looks he gave her and deflected any questions. Ordinarily, his barrage of concern would’ve eventually irritated her, but right now, she could barely stay awake. It was all she could do to seem semi put together.

Once they’d arrived at her school, she led Tomoe to the auditorium, where her friends and a few of her classmates had agreed to meet. Her stomach sank the moment she pushed open the doors and her eyes fell on one of her tormentors from the previous year — Isobe. Not now, she inwardly groaned.

“I didn’t think he’d be here,” she muttered under her breath, eliciting a strange look from Tomoe. She ignored it — and decided to ignore Isobe as well, hoping that if she kept her head down he wouldn’t notice her. Instead of dwelling on him any longer, she spotted Ami and headed towards her, Tomoe trailing behind her.

“Please don’t talk to me,” she thought, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Isobe seemed really absorbed in whatever he was working on — she wouldn’t even dare to look — because he didn’t even laugh once. She breathed a sigh of relief and joined her friends, waving at them as she approached.

“Nanami!” Ami beamed at her. “I’m glad you’re here!”

“Me too!” Kurama popped up from where he’d been hunched behind a pile of boards. His eyes fell on Tomoe and he exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Oh, good, maybe we’re not doomed.”

“Huh?” Nanami tilted her head.

“None of us can get this thing to stand,” Ami said with a frown.

“And when we do, it’s uneven.” Kurama glared at the lopsided pile. Then, he groaned, scratching his head and shutting his eyes. “I’m an idol. I don’t know how to do this kind of stuff.”

Tomoe side eyed the heap of junk Kurama gestured to. “What is that supposed to be?” He curled his lip.

“A booth,” Ami muttered, and then sighed.

“Well, that’s what Tomoe is here for,” Nanami said with a smile, placing a hand on Tomoe’s shoulder. Now it was her turn to get the side-eye. Straightening up, she said, “Oh, by the way, where’s Kei?”

Kurama ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowing. “Since we’re all so hopeless she went to Google how to build a stand. She’s supposed to bring us the instructions.”

“We were hoping maybe there’d be a YouTube video showing how to do it step by step,” Ami added.

“Did she go to the library? Because I think we all need to see that,” Nanami grumbled.

“Oh, no, she’s backstage with my laptop.” Kurama jerked his thumb towards the front of the auditorium. “I guess if she finds anything she’ll show us.”

And now they spoke gibberish again, Tomoe thought. “What are you talking about? How is she finding instructions?”

They paused their conversation to look at Tomoe, then at each other. Almost simultaneously, they all burst out laughing. This reaction made Tomoe’s face feel hot, a huff of indignation leaving him.

“I swear, you’re like someone’s cranky, old grandpa,” Kurama laughed, slapping Tomoe on the shoulder. His smile softened. “Look, if you’re gonna fit in to the human world as a teenager or a twenty-something or whatever age you’re acting like, you should know what these things are.”

Through his teeth, Tomoe asked, “Well, are you going to enlighten me?”

Kurama paused, and then grabbed a hammer, holding it out to him. “Sure, but can you help us with this first?”

A growl rumbled in Tomoe’s throat but he took the hammer all the same. “You have no practical skills.” The three of them only smiled blankly at him. He sighed, his eyes half shutting. “I will help you, but only if you watch and learn. I will not be building everything for you while you sit around chatting.”

“We weren’t going to do that!” Nanami insisted. She sat on her knees, peering up at Tomoe with determined eyes, momentarily forgetting her exhaustion. “Anyway, I wanna know how to do it.”

That look on her face never ceased to draw a laugh from him. She could be so serious. Ever since the first day they’d met, she’d been like this. “Well, of course you do. You don’t want to rely on anyone.”

Ignoring her following protest, he studied what Kurama and Ami had done so far and shook his head. The first thing he did was start prying the nails from the boards. 

“Uh, why are you taking it apart?” Kurama asked. “You’re supposed to help, not break things.”

This earned Kurama another side-eye, another curled lip. “Fool, you are supposed to use joints.”

“Oh!” Ami’s eyes grew wider. “That’s what you do?”

“Yes.” Tomoe jerked another nail out, shaking his head as he found it had been bent terribly. He refrained from asking how the hell they’d driven it in there. “Also.” He paused, wiggling what they’d probably intended to be the supports. “Do not use these flimsy boards to hold it up. You need posts for the frame.” Again, he was met by blank stares. “Never mind. Where are your supplies? I will get them myself.”

“Out back,” Ami said, pointing to the door at the far wall.

Tomoe stood. “I will be back.” He stalked off towards the exit.

“How does he know so many things?” Ami asked, meeting Nanami’s eyes.

To this, she shrugged. “I guess he knows how to build stuff because of the time he grew up in. It’s not like he knows everything.” Still, she had to admit — he could figure anything out very quickly. 

“Hey, Broke-nami!” an irritating voice called.

All at once, Nanami stiffened, her stress spiking. He’d left her alone all year; why did he have to bother her now? Perhaps he’d been kept at bay since he was no longer in her class and she’d been surrounded by her friends. But now, for whatever reason, he hovered like he used to.

“What?” she sighed, too tired to protest the nickname. 

“Your booth’s looking really ugly, just like you! Ha!” He smirked at her.

Kurama sighed loudly and placed a hand over one eye. “Ugh, how juvenile! Are you really resorting to grade school insults like that?” He crossed his arms. “Grow up, Isobe. You’re no longer the age where you pull a girl’s hair or throw things at her ‘cause you like her.”

Nanami shot Kurama a grateful look. His popularity came in handy sometimes. He certainly didn’t have to worry about the backlash of standing up to their classmates. Not like she had to do.

Although Isobe’s face was pink, he shot back, “Who would ever like Broke-nami? It’s not like she’d ever have a boyfriend or anything.” He turned to Nanami and laughed. “I bet you couldn’t even pay anyone to go out with you. You definitely couldn’t pay me enough. Not with a face like that!”

“Ugh.” Nanami turned away from him, deciding he wasn’t worth wasting her energy on. Luckily, Ami came to her defense.

“You’re wrong! Nanami has a boyfriend! He’s older and really smart and cool,” she said.

“Yeah, right!” Isobe snorted. “If she has a boyfriend, how come we never see him around?” He laughed. “What, does he ‘go to another school’? I bet he doesn’t even exist!”

At that moment, the door opened and Tomoe entered, hauling the posts he’d found. He headed across the auditorium, noticing the kid Nanami had purposely avoided now standing in front of her. The look on his face wasn’t particularly friendly, and everyone’s posture was stiff. He quickened his pace and rejoined them.

Before he could say anything, Ami continued whatever conversation they’d been having. “He does too exist!”

“Who exists?” Tomoe asked, unable to stifle his curiosity. He set the posts down by the trainwreck of a construction and looked at the newcomer. His face was flushed, his pupils were dilated. And they were trained on Nanami. Tomoe grimaced.

“You do! You’re Nanami’s boyfriend,” Ami said, glancing from him to Isobe.

It wasn’t clear what exactly was going on, but this boy seemed to be a threat. “Oh, yes.” He locked eyes with Isobe, standing beside Nanami, who still knelt on the floor, oddly silent. Her body sagged. “And who are you?”

“That’s Isobe,” Kurama replied before the other had a chance to introduce himself. “Unfortunately, he used to be in our class. He’s always harassing Nanami.”

Ignoring the insulting introduction, Isobe asked, “Wait, so it’s true?” He shifted his eyes to Nanami, who only looked at him coolly. “This guy is really your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, not wanting to explain to him they were anything more serious. Vaguely, she remembered she wore the ring Tomoe had given her on a chain around her neck; she hadn’t wanted to scratch it up while they worked. Hopefully, Isobe didn’t ask about it, because she could already hear the hundreds of taunts he’d throw in her face.

“Ohoho, he looks sketchy if you ask me!” Isobe said with a mocking laugh.

“And nobody asked you,” Kurama called from behind him.

“So this boy is bullying you,” Tomoe said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at Nanami. “Would you like for me to take care of him?”

“Ugh, yeah,” she mumbled. Then, realizing that her words could cause a fight, she waved her hands. “No, wait! It’s fine. I’m used to it. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“So, what, is he gonna beat me up or something?” Isobe snorted and laughed. “You really know how to pick ‘em, Momozono. Of course there’s something wrong with him if he’s going out with you.”

This was too much. Tomoe cracked his knuckles, seething. “One more word about Nanami and you will regret having a face.”

Realizing that Tomoe was about to make Isobe’s assumption true, Nanami shot him a sharp look, tone frenzied yet stern. “Don’t, Tomoe!”

Glowering at her, Tomoe lowered his hand. If she wouldn’t allow him to lay a claw on this brat, then it was time for a different brand of warfare. “Hmm, I guess that means there is something wrong with you then.” Catching Isobe’s confused glance, he smirked and stepped closer, towering over him. “I say that because you are so clearly infatuated with Nanami, but too cowardly to admit your own feelings. You feel threatened and embarrassed by them, don’t you?” He grinned garishly. “A little old to be acting like that, don’t you think?”

“Exactly what I told him,” Kurama snorted. Smirking at Isobe, he said, “I guess that’s ‘cause you can’t get a girlfriend, so to save face you act like they have cooties.”

A nervous giggle escaped Ami, and she quickly put a hand over her mouth. But it was obvious to Nanami that Kurama had impressed her, even if it did make her uncomfortable. Truthfully, she was relieved that the guys were coming to her defense too.

Here, Tomoe nodded. The tengu spoke sense for once. “Ah, typical behavior from a mere child.” He leaned closer, his eyes half lidding. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, then begone.”

His icy death stare must’ve done the trick, because Isobe flushed and muttered under his breath, swiftly retreating. What an annoying boy. At least they’d chased him off. Now Tomoe could focus on their work. Kneeling by the pile, he began laying out the boards and posts, occasionally rummaging through their toolbox.

As her adrenaline faded, Nanami tried to watch him, but the stress had taken the last of her energy. Her body ached and she felt like she could barely keep her eyes open. It felt like she was being siphoned completely dry. And it made her nauseous. At least Ami and Kurama paid attention, asking questions and eventually joining Tomoe in putting the booth together, because she was utterly useless right now. Vaguely, she was aware of Tomoe correcting her friends, of them settling down and building it correctly, but she couldn’t pay attention.

Nanami was oddly quiet again. In fact, she’d been quiet all day. Tomoe glanced at her, noticing she was pale, and his superior hearing picked up on her harsh breathing. Abandoning what he was doing, he sat by her, placing a hand on his forehead and then hers. She barely even flicked her eyes in his direction. While she didn’t feel too hot, her skin was damp.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

Maybe it was time to tell him and admit defeat, she thought, swallowing hard against her nausea. There was no way she could continue like this. “Can we send Hisoka to my job in my place?” she asked. “I think I need to go home.”

His eyes widened. Rarely did she insist on staying home instead of working. This wasn’t like her at all. “Yes, of course. I will send him a message right away.” After a short pause, he added, “You never answered my question, though. What is wrong?”

“I don’t feel good,” she replied, unsure of how to describe it. She dropped her forehead against his shoulder, head spinning again. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

He petted her hair, growing more concerned. This was similar to how she’d acted in Hokkaido. “Let’s go somewhere private,” he murmured. “I want to check something.” Feebly, she nodded against his shoulder. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” she said faintly. “Just give me a minute.” She drew in a deeper breath.

Their display must’ve caught Ami’s attention, because she stepped over to them, brow furrowed in concern. “Nanami? Are you okay?”

“Not really. I’m going home,” she murmured, voice muffled by Tomoe’s shirt.

“If this is about that Isobe creep, I’ll chase him out of here for ya,” Kurama called from where he knelt.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t feel well.” She drew in another breath, and then put her hands on Tomoe’s shoulders, using him for leverage. Again, her head spun. “Ugh.”

This drew Kurama’s eyes to her face, and he sobered up. “Damn, Nanami, you’re white as a sheet. Definitely go home.”

“Or to a doctor,” Ami said, then fretted her lower lip between her teeth.

“I will take care of her.” Tomoe stood with Nanami. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”

“Feel better!” Ami called as they turned to leave.

“Yeah, and thanks for your help, fox.” Kurama offered a smile.

Tomoe bit back the comment that it had only been for Nanami. Instead, he muttered, “You’re welcome.” Although he hated to admit it, they’d be all right in that tengu’s hands. Yokai like him learned quickly. 

Wrapping an arm around Nanami’s waist, he guided her out, ignoring the eyes that followed him, no doubt from that Isobe boy. He pushed open the door and urged her to step outside. Once there, he prodded her towards the side of the building, where they’d be obscured from view. Gently, he leaned her against the wall and laid his hands at her shoulders, supporting her in case she needed it. He sought out the primary thread between them and followed it to her, feeling for Ookuninushi’s energy.

It was still there, but it felt fainter than usual. Whereas before its pure white light had filled Nanami’s entire body, now she felt like she’d been deflated, the emptiness resounding. She’d been drained, he realized, eyes widening. And by a significant amount too. He’d thought she’d been acting strangely the day before, but now he realized how his binding had broken. The ties couldn’t restrain energy which was smaller than they were designed for, like a rope that didn’t quite fit.

Clenching his teeth, he cursed himself for not catching on sooner. This was when he realized — something must be done about Rekka now, gods be damned.

“Nanami, I am taking you straight home.” He concentrated and shifted them to the spirit plane, releasing his transformation spell to regain his yokai appearance. Lifting her up, he took off on a burst of foxfire.

She jolted at the sudden movement, a gasp catching in her throat, hands fluttering to his shoulders. She felt so dizzy. “Okay.”

Her lack of a response drew his concerned gaze to her face. The time for mincing words and tiptoeing around her trauma was over. This was a life and death situation now. “You and I both agree — that parasite draining you is not really a parasite, correct?”

Here, she nodded, clutching Tomoe’s haori. Just thinking that demon’s name had her freezing up, trembling. Her thoughts got away from her, and she shut her eyes against the nightmares, the darkness, those sharp teeth that jeered at her from the shadows. Luckily, his voice pulled her from that fog.

“That so-called parasite is Rekka, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” She leaned her head against his, eyes falling shut. Now that he brought up the parasite, she realized — this wasn’t just a sickness. Her borrowed energy was being suctioned from her, and it was much worse that Rekka got hold of Ookuninushi’s energy. He could do so much more damage.

It seemed like Tomoe had realized the same thing, because his grip tightened around her. “I am going to find him,” he said through clenched teeth. “And I am going to take care of him for good.”

Could he even fight him off now that Rekka had Ookuninushi’s energy as well as hers? She flicked a gaze to him. “What—?” she began.

He barely even heard her. “I was a fool. I thought he would not be able to take Ookuninushi’s energy. It is much too potent and pure. It should have purified him.” He laughed dryly. “I suppose that wretch has found a way.”

Here, she nodded again, the motion robotic. “What are you gonna do?”

A wicked smile twisted the corner of his mouth and he side eyed her. “My powers increase as my seal breaks,” he told her. “If you allow it, I am going to possess you in full spirit form, and I am going to follow that damn hole right back to him.”

“What do you mean full spirit form?” Nanami asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Just what it sounds like. It will be too disturbing for you to witness, so when I do it, swear to me you will close your eyes and you will not look.” He met her eyes, tightening his hold around her.

“Okay…” Another pause. “But what are you going to do to him?”

At this, Tomoe’s grin stretched across his face, fangs showing and eyes flashing. “I am going to kill him.”

For once, Nanami didn’t say a word.

Chapter Text

As soon as they arrived back at Mikage shrine, Tomoe headed straight for Nanami’s room. She continued to hold him around the neck, allowing him to carry her, an action that gnawed at his stomach with worry. Before they could disappear, however, both Mikage and Mizuki intercepted them.

“Nanami-chan, I thought you were going to be out all day,” Mizuki began, but then he caught sight of her face and snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

Mikage looked up from where he sat, alarm passing over his face. Of course, Tomoe thought; he was a god. He’d be able to tell. “Oh, dear,” he said, getting to his feet. “Nanami-san, I am so sorry. I should’ve stopped you from going out today.”

By now, Nanami felt too awful to say much, preferring to hang onto Tomoe, but she found her voice anyway. “It’s okay,” she said, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I’ll be fine.”

Mikage locked eyes with Tomoe, and silent understanding passed between them; just in that short time, she’d nearly been drained dry again. Tearing his gaze from Mikage’s, Tomoe addressed Mizuki. “I am going to take care of this Rekka problem once and for all. You must watch over Nanami while I do so. If she seems to be too sick, you have my permission to give her your energy.”

At this, Mizuki’s eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”

“Yes, kiss her,” Tomoe affirmed. “Now follow me. And get Mikage if things get too bad.”

“Perhaps I should sit with you now,” Mikage said, worry etched on his brow.

Tomoe was about to decline, but then Nanami spoke up. “I’d like that.” She met Tomoe’s eyes, and any argument he had flew out the window. Instead, he nodded.

Since all of them had decided to be present, Tomoe gently laid Nanami on the couch, hovering over her for a moment. She looked up at him with a wan smile, reaching up to run her fingers through a long strand of his hair. Catching her hand, he stared into her eyes as he kissed it.

“You can do it,” she said faintly, fingertips trailing over his face. “Please be careful…”

There was no sense in hiding it from her. Eyes half shutting, Tomoe said, “I’m sorry, Nanami. That is one request I cannot guarantee. After all, Rekka must die, no matter what it takes.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then to her mouth. She stiffened beneath him, and he remembered — she didn’t like to be kissed in front of others. Begrudgingly, he pulled back. “Close your eyes. It will be scary, but know you are not alone. Mizuki and Mikage are here with you.” He ran a hand over her hair.

Just that comment had her heart skipping a beat. He must’ve noticed the anxiety in her eyes, because he beckoned Mizuki closer. Once the other boy had knelt by Nanami, Tomoe placed her hand in Mizuki’s. With that unspoken permission, she clutched his hand, a pressure that Mizuki returned. With that, she shut her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of Mizuki’s hand.

“This will be disturbing,” Tomoe warned Mizuki. “But I promise — I am not hurting her.”

“Okay,” Mizuki said hesitantly. He laced his fingers with Nanami’s, holding her hand tighter.

Focusing on the thread connecting them, Tomoe fed his energy bit by bit up the thread. This was a trick he hadn’t been able to hold long the last time he’d tried it, so he’d need to get in and out of there. Slowly, he morphed into pure spirit form and slipped inside her, until he’d entered that gateway, her very heart. He followed her energy to her subconscious and settled there like a thick fog, hyper aware of the weakness of her body.

It was dark. This was nothing at all like the Nanami he knew. She was so pure, so light, so loving. When she smiled, she lit up the room. And yet she was filled with this thick blanket of black shadows that encroached on her, seeping into her soul, tainting it like an inky poison spreading through her veins. He found himself in some semblance of a corporeal form, footsteps resounding as he walked deeper. He could feel a presence here; no, he thought, three spirits. And one of them was hers.

“I know you are in here,” he growled, voice low and menacing. His tail swished. “Come out and face me, you coward.”

“Who you callin’ a coward?”

He knew that voice. Instantly, he stiffened. Out from the shadows stepped a familiar figure. It took him a moment to recognize him. “Akura-Ou,” he growled. “I see you are still possessing her.”

The oni jammed his hands in his pockets and snorted. “Possessing her? Nah, that would be you.” He smirked. “I’m just the remnants of energy from five hundred years ago.”

“Ah, the energy you stashed away in Nanami.” Tomoe circled him slowly, like an animal preparing to attack, shoulders stiff and eyes flashing with bloodlust. “I will deal with you later. But for the time being, perhaps you can help Nanami.” It was best to play on his weaknesses. If Akura had feelings for Nanami, he’d comply.

The other yokai pouted, then took a step forward until he was directly in front of Tomoe. His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, how’s that?”

Tail sweeping back and forth in slow, threatening movements, Tomoe gazed at him coolly. “Where is the vacuum?” Here, Akura tilted his head. “The parasite — where is it?”

“Oh, that.” Akura’s golden eyes seemed to glow, something piercing and cold settling in them. “That shit is in here deep. It’s like a damn game of whack-a-mole.” Now it was Tomoe’s turn to gaze at him blankly. He clarified. “You close one hole up and another opens. I can’t do much about it.”

“Fantastic.” Tomoe grimaced. “Well, since you are an incarnation of residual energy, and I am the real deal, perhaps I can take care of it.” He smirked wider. “I feel another presence here. Is that him?” Akura’s eyes slid to the side. Leaning forward, tone sharper, Tomoe asked, “Is it Rekka?”

“Yeah, he’s set up camp again,” Akura grumbled.

“For what purpose? I thought he got what he wanted already.” He clenched his teeth, crossing his arms. “What could he want with her energy?”

“Not just hers.” Akura’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “He tried to take mine too. He succeeded until I locked him out.” Here, he smirked, wide enough to show all his teeth. “And he got yours too. Lots and lots of yours.”

Tomoe’s eyes widened. “He is amassing energy?”

“Yeah. He got Ookuninushi’s energy too,” Akura huffed.

Remembering their fight in Izumo, Tomoe laughed, the sound dry. “Ah, you resent he succeeded where you failed.”

“I didn’t fail. I accomplished what I set out to do,” Akura shot back.

This was irrelevant, Tomoe reminded himself, although he wanted to keep picking at it. “Never mind.” He locked gazes with the other demon. “So he is here and he has many different energy signatures.” He hummed and rubbed his chin. “But he is dim-witted. Does he believe that will give him all of our powers?”

Here, Akura shrugged. “You got me. But if you want to do something, you should start now.” His eyes half lidded and another smirk spread across his face. Then, Akura took a step back, the shadows slowly engulfing him again. “Because he’s right behind you.”

Whirling around, Tomoe found himself staring at another set of sharp teeth, a red-eyed glint peering out at him through the shadows. “You!” he barked, pointing a finger at him. “What purpose do you have with Nanami? If this has anything to do with controlling me, it is not going to work.”

“It’s not about that anymore,” the rougher voice replied, never once leaving the shadows, lurking at the periphery.

“Then why are you taking our energies?” Tomoe frowned.

“Why? That’s a dumb question.”

Rekka laughed, the sound echoing, growing louder and louder until it was deafening, multiplied by a hundred and slipping over itself. Tomoe could feel Nanami’s soul clenching, that prickling wash of fear filling her to the brim. She was aware. 

The laughter abated, gradually fading away with the last echo, and then Rekka replied. “It’s simple. I want revenge for what you two did to me.”

“You did it to us first!” Tomoe reminded him sharply. He shook his head, then extended his hands, foxfire blazing in each palm. “Enough of this nonsense. Come out and fight me like a man.”

“I wouldn’t do that in here if I were you,” Rekka sneered.

Damn it; he was right. Gritting his teeth, Tomoe extinguished the flames, his heart racing. There was yet another way. This time, when he conjured the flames, it was in the form of a purifying barrier. A wild smirk spread across his face, stretching to show his fangs, brow furrowed and eyes wide. “I am going to kill you.”

Before Rekka could retreat, he threw the foxfire at him, expanding the barrier, weaving it larger and larger, making it stronger. An otherworldly screech erupted from the shadows, and the darkness began to waver, tendrils rising like steam from a hot sidewalk, dissipating into nothingness. As that cloak vanished, Rekka appeared, no longer having anything to hide behind. 

“Got you,” Tomoe said with a wicked chuckle, swirling the foxfire around him, threading that blue, energetic glow through the streams and capturing him around the wrists and ankles. With a flick of his wrist, he tightened them around the demon and stalked closer.

“You’re a fool,” Rekka spat.

Eyes half lidding, Tomoe came closer and used the tip of his fan to force Rekka’s chin up. “Oh, I know this will not rid of you. Not entirely.” That smirk stretched his mouth out again, and he leaned in the other’s face, his laugh coming out as a hiss. “But if you survive, it will be agony.” His eyes flashed in the dancing light of the foxfire. “You made a fatal mistake, Rekka. You dared to hurt my wife. If you had done this to anyone else, I would not have given a damn. But you made the one enemy you should not have — and it will be your downfall.”

“You just try, fox. You try and I’ll come back as another incarnation.”

There it was. Tomoe stared him down, not daring to give his pleasure away. This was what he’d been hoping to glean by working Rekka up. So this was an energetic incarnation. That meant that at some point he’d attached himself to Nanami and forced an energetic contract on her, something he hadn’t considered before. It must’ve been during the trial. He’d told her not to look, not to make eye contact, but Rekka had provoked her. It was likely he’d stuck the hooks in her during her time in Jigoku, but that had been the moment he latched his lines into her. That had been why she’d fainted and lay in a comatose state for hours.

“I see. You believe that will make me give up?” Tomoe narrowed his eyes, then jerked his fan back, allowing Rekka’s head to bob with the movement. “But you have to get in somehow.”

This earned him a disdainful glare, but Tomoe didn’t bother to clarify. It was best to end this now and search out the source, because if what Rekka said was true, then he’d try to infiltrate her again right away. And he’d accumulated enough energy to keep doing it. For now, Tomoe decided to feign impatience, rashness.

“I tire of this. Now die.”

He waved his fan and the foxfire surged with his purification power, slicing Rekka straight through, driving a horrific scream from him that grew shriller and shriller as his very body separated atom by atom, the pieces spacing out and dissipating in sizzles of smoke and heat. He was in debilitating pain, wherever he was, Tomoe thought with a sneering grin, a tingle rippling down his spine and eliciting goosebumps. If this wasn’t the most delicious schadenfreude, then he didn’t know what was.

Blobs of what looked to be black blood dropped thickly to the ground in puddles. That technique. He cut his fan through the hint of miasma rising and his foxfire swelled, following his command, sweeping over the ground and glowing brighter and brighter, until the liquid evaporated with Rekka’s screams. This time, they didn’t come back.

Snapping his fan shut, aware of the throbs of sick, splitting pain that passed through Nanami’s head, he decided to go deeper. His keen eyes flicked around, looking for those bonds. There should be threads. His eye caught one, but it held Akura’s energy. Had it not been twisted and knotted in Nanami’s soul, he would’ve snapped it. Where was that fool?

“You won’t be able to find them.”

The voice had Tomoe jolting, and he whirled around to find Akura sitting with crossed legs on the top of a translucent, red bubble. “Excuse me?”

“Trust me, I tried already.” Akura pouted and leaned his elbow on a knee, his chin in his palm “It’s because Rekka didn’t use your typical energy cord.”

“Ah, naturally,” Tomoe huffed. “Do you have any ideas?”

The oni shrugged. “Not really. He’s mapped out the flow of chi through her body. It’s why she gets blocked and why her powers aren’t advancing much.”

So it wasn’t Nanami’s fault after all, Tomoe thought, his eyebrows raising. “I see.”

Akura continued. “I think that’s how he’s popping in and out. He knows where it is. He knows her energy signature. So he can just hook in whenever the fuck he wants.”

“That complicates things.” Tomoe bit down on his thumb, averting his gaze, keeping an eye on Akura’s incarnation from his peripheral vision. “So you are saying I will not be able to follow him back to the source.”

“Not unless he opens that path while you’re in here,” the demon king replied, now looking bored.

“It would be something he would do. He is rather stupid,” Tomoe muttered.

This drew a guffaw from his once comrade. “Sure, but you haven’t caught him yet.”

Tomoe shot him a sharp look. “Neither have you,” he retorted.

“Yeah, that’s because I’m almost gone,” he replied with a frown. “Nanami used a lot of my energy. And Rekka snuck a lot of the rest.” He huffed. “It took a lot to keep her safe. And I can’t regenerate in here.”

He had a point. “I see.” Tomoe hummed. “Well, regardless of my feelings concerning you, I am grateful for what you have done.”

Akura flashed a wide-eyed smile, all at once wild and childish. “Oh, is this the same proud fox I know? Thanking me?” That smile morphed to a devilish smirk. “I told you — I’d take care of her if you wouldn’t.”

This comment rattled him. Even though this incarnation was residual energy from five hundred years ago, Akura had an inkling of what happened in the present. And that intel was more valuable than anything he’d discovered thus far.

Taking a step forward, Tomoe spoke again. “Akura-Ou.” This drew a glance down, an arched eyebrow. “Does this mean you are linked to your present day consciousness?”

“Huh?” Akura scratched his cheek, eyes drifting towards the sky — or whatever the top of this landscape was. “I never really thought about it. But I guess.”

“So you were not aware — neither you as an incarnation nor you as a soul.” Here, Akura shrugged. “Tell me this — do you know what happened between us recently?”

A scoffing laugh. “I know we aren’t on good terms,” he replied, leaning back against the bubble and swinging one leg. “You’re past abandoning me. Now you’re flat out betraying me by fighting me. All over this woman.”

“And yet you are playing into that game too,” Tomoe mumbled under his breath. He ignored the question of ‘what’ from above him. Speaking audibly, he asked, “Then how can I trust that you are telling the truth? You harbor hatred for me. Why would you help me?”

At this, Akura leapt down from the bubble, allowing it to burst behind him. His boots clicked against the ground, which was now some hardened surface like a floor, and stalked closer to Tomoe. Neither said a word, eyes locked, unblinking. A few beats passed, and finally he spoke. “Because I give a damn about Nanami.”

Tomoe’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. Whether it was romantic or platonic or familial, he couldn’t say — but just by that flash of softness in the oni’s gaze, he knew. Akura-Ou loved Nanami.

—

Akura had hovered for a while, but neither of them had spoken after that sentiment had passed between them. It seemed he truly had no more help to give — at least not in this form. But he did have greater insight into how Nanami’s soul and energy were mapped out, as much as Tomoe hated to admit it. And after a while of waiting for Rekka to return, he swallowed his pride and decided to ask to be shown those entry points. However, by the time he turned around, his comrade had vanished.

Fantastic. It was a wonder he was even still here inside of Nanami, but he knew he didn’t have the luxury of forever. Without a shortcut provided by Akura, then who knew how long it would take. He was such a fool — a prideful, stubborn fool.  

It occurred to him then that perhaps Rekka sensed his presence and laid low, so he decided to conceal himself, to lay in wait. Calling upon his powers of illusion, he scattered his spirit and hid himself away, waiting. He’d hardly scattered his energy before he felt it — this dark energy crackling through Nanami’s consciousness. A sensation like a powerful suction. And then he saw it — the opening.

Quickly, he pulled his energy together and sped towards it. Rekka didn’t have a chance to close it. He shot through that hole, knowing full well what lay on the other side. Rekka could try to absorb him, but he wouldn’t succeed.

Black, tight, nothingness surrounded him. It pulled him and confined him as he flowed with the energy Rekka attempted to take. In no time at all, he found himself on the other end of the energy cord. He bled out of that dark consciousness bit by bit, and then he pulled his energy back together, materializing his form again.

He couldn’t see a thing. The shadows were so thick he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. Momentarily, his stomach jumped in his throat as he wondered if something had gone wrong, if he’d gone blind. Feeling around, his hands swept through space, and when he tried to take a step, he found he floated through thin air. The silence was disquieting, as though he were in a vacuum, to the point it was loud. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, his own breathing. It made him hyper aware of it, and he quickly held his breath.

Where the hell was this place? A part of him wondered if he’d really fucked up this time — if he’d been sucked up and sent to the same place as the rest of the energy, into some bottomless void. But then he heard it — the slightest shift. His ear twitched. And, gradually, an energy signature coalesced from the shadows. Rekka. 

“You’re kinda smart after all, I’ll give you that,” Rekka’s voice growled from the darkness, coming at him from all sides. “So you found where the gods hid me, huh?”

The gods had put him here. This must’ve been a special hell made just for Rekka, because even he was uncomfortable with this thick atmosphere, the total lack of light. It reminded him of Izanami’s palace, of the staircase that led to Jigoku. And then it clicked — they were in the underworld, in the space between Yomi and Jigoku.

That meant two things: they were on equal ground and his foxfire would work.

With a sweep of his hand, he conjured a palm of foxfire. It didn’t do much to cut through the darkness, but it was enough to illuminate the spot he floated in. And when the light adjusted, he found that blue glow reflected as a flickering gleam in Rekka’s glassy eyes. The demon levitated just in front of him. He was in reach. 

“So we meet again,” Tomoe growled, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re cocky coming here like this,” Rekka jeered. “Last time we fought, you nearly died.”

“Hardly,” Tomoe spat. He shuddered to think of that time, but it had been the miasma, not Rekka, that had sickened him so. Cracking his knuckles, preparing his claws, he grinned, showing his fangs. “I have only grown stronger since then. You will not get away with your life this time.”

With a swipe of his hand, he flashed punishing, purifying foxfire towards the entity. Rekka kept ducking in and out of the shadows, melting with them, hiding. But Tomoe continued his onslaught, his foxfire growing in intensity and volume. Soon, the flames glowed and roared around them, as far as the eye could see. It lit the space, enclosing Rekka in. Spotting the demon attempting to flee through the top, he clicked his tongue and drew the flames up to spread over like a dome, until they were floating inside the hollow he’d created.

“Shadows hold your essence, hm?” Tomoe cut a withering stare in his direction, a crazed grin spreading across his face. “I will smother you and snuff you out with my foxfire.”

There was no more time for hesitation. The sight of Rekka’s sneering face sent fresh rage through his body. It all came to him in a flash — finding Nanami’s mutilated, dead body; the pain and trauma she still experienced; the loss of her innocence; the continuous torture; the secondary, impending death he’d inflicted on her. And something inside him snapped, snapped in a way he hadn’t felt since the gods had murdered Yukiji.

“Bastard!” he snarled, and he shot forth in a flurry of foxfire and claws and teeth, his eyes feral and unhinged.

With a flick of his wrist, both of his katana materialized. He unsheathed them in one fluid movement, foxfire coursing from his hands to the blades, infusing them with his energy. He swung them, the blades slicing and whistling through the air from the sheer speed of his blow. Both went clean through Rekka — and this time he gave him no chance to recover. The blades glowed with blue, purifying energy, and he swept through the shadows again.

A strangled, agonized sound burbled from the shadows. Tomoe clenched his teeth, employing more force than necessary. He cut him again and again and again, each time hitting him with an explosive blast of foxfire and purification. Chest heaving, head spinning from a combination of fury and adrenaline, he blasted the shadows, filling the entirety of the hollow with foxfire. The heat swarmed thickly and conjured howling wind currents, the blue glow so bright it was nearly blinding. His hair whipped in his face and he leapt through the blue flames, katana clashing cacophonously with scythe-like claws.

“It is a wonder you are still standing,” he sneered, head low, regarding his opponent like a predator stalking its prey. “I am not the same kami you faced that day in Jigoku.”

“Yeah? I doubt you’re any stronger.” Despite his haughty tone, Tomoe detected it — exhaustion, weakness. Now it was he who made Rekka sick. 

A dark chuckle escaped him, and then he clenched his teeth, a shadow passing over his face, pupils narrow, dangerous slits. “I am the kami who moved heaven, hell, and earth, who exorcised Akura-Ou, who beat off Inari’s subjugation. And your last mistake was making a very powerful enemy out of me.” Another sweeping blast of foxfire, and he heard Rekka grunt. “I will do it all over again if it means exterminating you from existence itself.”

Driven by hatred, he shot forward, landing a forceful blow to Rekka’s claws. Slashing over and over, he backed Rekka to the wall of his barrier as the other demon blocked him with each movement, metal clanging against metal, the sound filling the space and resonating off the walls. Tomoe growled through his teeth, seeing red, hitting him with more strength, pouring more of his energy into his blades. They thickened, and with his next blow, he cut clean through Rekka’s claws. They flew through the foxfire, disappearing into the blaze.

“You’re through!” Tomoe snarled, leaping through the air with his katana raised overhead, ready to bring it down on Rekka, who now huddled in a curled up ball, protecting himself. 

In the next instant, those eyes flashed and snapped up to him, something like desperation in them. His clawless hand shot forth and snaked around Tomoe’s wrist. It would’ve been easy enough to flick him off, as though he were a mere insect, but then there was a sudden flash, that vacuum sensation that knocked the breath right out of him, turning him upside down.

Disoriented, he tried to right himself, only to find he was alone. Growling, he jumped to his feet, prepared to fight, flexing his claws.

“Huh, you’re back.”

Tomoe jolted, whirling around to face Akura. His chest heaved, heart beating painfully hard.

“Whoa. You look like you’re about to go on a murder spree.” Akura rubbed his chin and then a manic smile of his own spread across his face, eyes wide. “It looks like you’re coming back to me after all, brother.”

“Where is Rekka?” Tomoe snapped. “How did I get back here?”

“I don’t know,” Akura replied with a frown. “What, you didn’t take him out in one blow?”

Gritting his teeth, Tomoe seethed, eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to finish the bastard.” He clenched his trembling fists until his claws cut his palms, blood slowly trickling between his fingers. “If I have to kill him a thousand times to get rid of him, I will. Mark my words — I will.”

Before Akura could reply, Tomoe felt that familiar strain in his spirit. He couldn’t hold the possession any longer. A curse flew from his mouth, but he heeded it all the same. Without a word to his former comrade, he sent his energy down the thread, reversing course, effectively turning himself inside out until he’d re-materialized outside of Nanami.

His gaze snapped to Mikage’s, and they held that eye contact for a long moment. No words were exchanged, but Tomoe saw it — the slight furrow of Mikage’s brow, the set of his jaw, the way he gripped his tengu fan. They stared each other down for a long moment.

The only thing Tomoe said was in spoken in low, dangerous purrs, his eyes flashing and his tail flicking. “I am going to kill him. And there is no god in the world who can stop me.”

Knowing that Nanami’s body was in good hands, he turned and stomped away, fury coursing through his veins. The best thing to do for now was to go straight to the source of Nanami’s problem and put an end to it. He’d already weakened Rekka, so it should only take a few more punishing blows to end him. Regardless of what it took, he would keep hitting Rekka until he succeeded.

Chapter Text

When Nanami came to, her head pounded with one of the worst headaches she’d had in her entire life. Moaning in pain, she held a hand over her eyes, blocking out the light. She still felt weak and nauseous, but not as weak as she had before. It felt like someone had been stomping around her head and knocking on it from within her skull. Before she could catch her bearings, a soothing voice called to her.

“Ah, Nanami-san, you’re awake.”

Mikage. Nanami groaned and writhed. “My head hurts so bad,” she said, voice scratchy and hoarse.

“I imagine so. Tomoe held that possession much too long.” There was a pause and the sound of footsteps, of light thumps. Then, a weight fell on the edge of the couch cushion by her. “Here, take this and drink some water.”

Something smooth and small pressed into her palm. Recognizing it was a painkiller, Nanami dared to move her hand so she could see what she was doing. Her vision was blurry around the edges — likely from this horrible migraine. She swallowed the pill and half the glass of water he offered to her. That was when she glanced around and realized they were alone.

“Where’s Tomoe?” she asked, coughing thickly.

An uneasy expression flashed across Mikage’s face. “He left. Mizuki went to find him.” There was a pause, and Mikage’s hand fell on Nanami’s arm. “Nanami-san, perhaps you can get in touch with him and talk some sense into him.”

“What do you mean?” Nanami shot up to a sitting position — and her head immediately spun, a violent throb of pain shooting through her. She covered her mouth with a hand and coughed hard, very nearly throwing up from the pain. 

“Easy.” Mikage gently urged her to lie down again. For a moment, he hovered, concern on his brow. Then, he sighed. “I don’t want to stress you out, but you should know — what I saw in him right before he left was not good.”

“What you saw in him?” Nanami’s stomach clenched, brow furrowing and eyes wide. “Mikage?”

He squeezed her arm, offering a sad smile. “I hope for our sake I’m wrong, but it seems he’s reverted back to a wild fox. And not just that — but the wild fox ayakashi he was years ago.” His smile faded, replaced by something serious. “He had the same look on his face that he had during his rampage in the spirit world.”

Nanami’s breathing grew sharper, more ragged. If Tomoe lost his head and did such a thing, he’d be executed. “He isn’t going to kill again, is he?”

“I don’t know what all will happen, but he said he’s going to kill Rekka.” Mikage’s soft gaze fluttered with worry and determination.

“Why aren’t you stopping him?” she cried out, her body encompassed in tremors.

“Because you were very ill.” She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “I wish I could’ve gone after him and left Mizuki to watch over you, but his energy wasn’t enough, so I stayed behind to sustain you. Which isn’t surprising, because Tomoe and Rekka had quite the battle in your mind.”

Her heart caught in her throat in the form of a lump. “Wait, did it hurt me or something?” she asked, voice small. “Is that why you had to stay behind?”

Mikage shook his head. “No, nothing too serious. Possession for any length of time affects the person being possessed, especially if there’s conflict. That’s all there is to it.” He offered a weary smile. “You’re stable now.”

At this, Nanami nodded, but she couldn’t relax just yet — not when Tomoe was on his way to do something reckless. Glancing across the room at her bag, she pointed. “Can you please get me my bag? I need my phone.”

Nodding, Mikage rose and picked up her bag from the floor. He handed it to her and resumed his seat. With shaking hands, she dug through it until she found her phone, finding that the texts from her friends had piled up. Dismissing the notifications, she went to Tomoe’s contact card and pressed the button to call him.

A part of her expected it to go to voicemail, but he picked up on the fourth ring. “What?”

She swallowed hard. Something about his tone was different. Her heart thudded, mind immediately going back to her encounter with his past self. Unable to help it, she grasped Mikage’s sleeve, trying to control her breathing. “Tomoe,” she said, her eyes stinging slightly. “Where are you?”

Her voice sounded garbled, far away. It was a wonder he had reception at all, he thought, scowling up at the stagnant clouds that served as a sky. “In Yomi.”

“What are you doing there?” Nanami felt her heart rate increase and, with it, her head pounded. She put a hand on her head, tears pricking her eyes as dread filled her body.

“I am going to find him and kill him,” he spat. Then, realizing she might not know what he meant, he clarified, “Rekka. That bastard who destroyed you.”

“Tomoe…” She chewed on her lower lip. Once again, she sat up, but much slower this time. The pressure in her head was enormous. She didn’t even try to hide her pain from him. “Please just come home. Don’t do this now.” Her breath hitched. “You need to calm down.” Before he did something stupid, she mentally tacked on. 

A dry bark of a laugh exploded from him. “I won’t come home until I have avenged you and have his lifeless head,” he growled. “I mean it, Nanami. He will not live to see another day.”

Her breaths came faster. No, she thought; her Tomoe was kind. He didn’t speak like this, and he wasn’t insane with bloodlust. Maybe he would kill if it came down to it, but right now he sounded out of his mind. Instead of killing in self-defense, he hunted his enemy down like an animal, and it terrified her.

“Please come home,” she cried out, growing more and more upset. “I don’t care about you avenging me. I’m sick and I need you home with me.”

A twinge sparked in his chest at her tone, at the fact that she begged him. The sound cut out for a moment, her voice disembodied, ghostly. He realized they needed to finish this conversation quickly — while he stood in one spot where he did have reception. “I will be home with you soon. I have a vague idea of where he is. I will find him, eviscerate him, wipe him from the face of all the worlds, and then I will be home again.”

“No!” she yelled. “I need you now! I don’t care about any of that. If he’s hurting me from there, then we’ll find another way. Just don’t go in there and kill him like this, because I’m scared of what will happen to you.” There was a long pause, but she was positive he’d heard her, because she caught a small sigh from his end. “Please don’t do this. You’re not like this. You’re kind. You’re smart and clever and diplomatic. You're not a wild fox anymore.”

“I have always been a wild fox,” Tomoe retorted. “I told you from the very beginning — this is who I am. I believed you had accepted that — that I am violent, ill-bred. My nature is to kill, and this worthless demon is not going to escape his fate this time!”

“But why would you risk everything you worked so hard for?” she replied, her body quivering. “You’re not that type of person! Not even when you’re really upset!” She gulped each breath, feeling like a string that had been pulled so taut it was about to snap. “Let me be there for you, Tomoe. We need each other right now. I need you to come home.”

A strangled sound caught in Tomoe’s throat, his eyes darting over the desolate landscape. Somehow, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find an adequate response. His feet rooted to the spot. “Nanami, I cannot…”

He wasn’t going to stop, Nanami realized, eyes wide. He wasn’t going to stop and something bad was going to happen if he didn’t. She was beginning to get the sinking feeling that she’d have to intervene, but the only way she knew of was the one thing he’d told her not to do anymore.

“I don’t want to do this,” she said softly. “Don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?” Tomoe’s ears pricked up in alarm.

Deciding to give him one more chance, Nanami drew in a breath. “Are you going to come home to me? Please?”

Her voice all but broke his heart. But she was young, emotional, and she didn’t understand that this was done with her best interests in mind. “I will, but I must carry this out first.”

“But—”

“This demon is killing you!” he said, raising his voice. Despite his best efforts, the tremor of his hand bled into his tone. “I have to protect you, and I have no other choice—”

Fear gripped Nanami from deep within, exploding towards the outer edges of her body. If Tomoe carried this out, then he would lose the gods’ trust. He would no longer be absolved, instead seen as defying heaven itself, presenting a threat to their well-being. And if that meant he’d be imprisoned again — or, worse, killed — then she just couldn’t allow it.

“I’m so sorry for doing this,” Nanami interrupted him. She drew another breath, and then she shouted down the phone, tone firm and commanding. “Come home now!”

SNAP. A gasp caught in Tomoe’s throat as it stung every inch of his body, like a thousand lashes just under his skin. This time, it wasn’t even conscious. He almost dropped his phone as he burst up into the sky, speeding towards the kami’s entrance to Yomi. He couldn’t even think for himself at all right now, on autopilot.

“Are you coming home?” Nanami paused, but there was silence save for the crackles and pops of interference and a sound like wind. Scowling, she demanded, “Tell me if you’re coming home!”

“I am coming home,” he replied, almost in a monotone, feeling outside of himself.

“Good!” She felt her blood pressure dropping. “We’ll talk when you get home. Okay?” Silence. When she spoke again, it was a near yell. “Are we gonna talk when you get home?”

“Yes,” he replied, still feeling as though he was in a trance. At this point, he shot out of the entrance at Izumo.

“And when will you be here?” By now, she’d learned, so she spoke harshly.

“Forty minutes,” he responded, zombie-like.

“Good!” Nanami huffed. “Look, I’m sorry I had to do that. But you can’t be a wild fox, okay? This is what word binding is there for, and I had to use it because this is what’s in our contract. You’ll thank me for it later.” Silence from his end. “Okay, we’ll talk when the binding releases you. Bye!” She hung up the call before he could say — or rather not say — anything. Then, she exhaled, dropping to the couch and shaking.

“Thank the gods for that contract,” Mikage said with a long sigh. Just by looking at him, Nanami could’ve sworn he was ready to melt to the floor. “Is there anything I can get you to make you comfortable, Nanami-san?”

Here, she shook her head. “Not really. If you can send a message to Mizuki so he comes home, that’d be great.”

He nodded and offered her a tiny smile, and then walked past her to the front door. Panting, she laid an arm over her eyes, heart rate gradually coming down. She couldn’t believe she’d had to word bind Tomoe. Since coming to know him, she hadn’t thought that she’d actually need it. While she didn’t know how to feel about it, she also recognized that he was overcome by grief, by anger. But behind all that anger was an overflowing well of fear. He’d never say it, but her condition had triggered him; that she was sure of.

Rolling onto her side, she stared at the wall, mouth quivering. Her Tomoe was still in there. She couldn’t fault him for panicking. He was stressed; he was afraid. And he wanted to protect her. But right now, it was her turn to protect him, even if it had to be from himself.

She wouldn’t let him condemn himself to a lifetime of hell again.

—

Tomoe didn’t feel like himself until he arrived at Mikage shrine and the binding released him. He’d never felt such a strong binding before, to the point that everything had been hazy like a dream. While he could’ve yelled at Nanami for doing it, he also realized -- she believed he’d been a threat to himself and others. And that was what the contract was there for.

Tail flicking, he stalked into the shrine, his lip curled slightly. He found her lying asleep on the couch with Mikage sitting by her side. His eyes locked with Mikage’s, and the other god stared at him with a furrowed brow, clearly upset with him. Somehow, it felt terrible to be given a look like that from Mikage, the kind of look that made his skin crawl and his stomach twist into knots. The other god was such a mellow and kind and understanding person, and to be on the receiving end of a frown from him made him feel like withering straight through the ground.

“Tomoe, I’m glad you’re home.” Mikage paused, drawing in a breath, his frown deepening. “Being a vigilante is not the way to go.”

Tomoe flinched, but his own expression morphed to a scowl. “It’s not vigilantism. As long as Rekka is alive, Nanami’s life is in danger.” He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. “No amount of energy will sustain her because he drains her every time.”

“I’m aware,” Mikage replied. “But there’s a reason the gods didn’t kill him. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.”

“Oh? And would you happen to know what their grand plan is?” Tomoe asked, leaning forward, eyes half shutting. “There is no good reason a demon like that should be kept alive.”

“Not to overstep, but Tomoe—” Here, Mikage stood, holding tight to his tengu fan. “You were spared. And the gods thought you were worse than Rekka.”

Tomoe’s mouth opened and then shut and then opened again. Even with all his experience and cunning, he had no idea what to say to that. He blinked.

“I’m sure there were many, many humans, spirits, and gods who wanted you dead. I’m angry at Rekka too, but from the gods’ point of view, our anger comes from it being a personal offense. We know and love Nanami-san, so it’s only natural for us to feel that way.”

From the couch, Nanami stirred, making a small sound and stretching her arms. Forgetting his conversation with Mikage, Tomoe went straight to her side, sitting on the edge of the couch and brushing her hair back from her face. Concern outweighed any resentment he felt towards her for word binding him. After all, she’d had a reason.

Her eyes blinked open, still hazy with sleep, and his gaze softened. “I am home now,” he told her, then leaned down to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

Hearing Tomoe’s voice, Nanami breathed a sigh of relief. She blinked again, and her vision came into focus. His expression was much kinder now. “I’m glad,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek, a smile twitching at her lips. Then, remembering why he’d come home, she asked, “Are you mad?” He hummed, tilting his head, so she clarified, “That I word bound you?”

“No.” He leaned into her palm, nuzzling it and kissing it. “Although I wish you would let me defend you.” He sighed, shutting his eyes, lips lingering at her fingertips. “I don’t agree, but I understand why you did it.”

Relief flooded over her, and she slowly sat up, hugging him around the neck. “Oh, Tomoe, I wish I hadn’t had to do it, but I am glad you’re back home safe with me.” She hugged him tighter and then released him.

He only nodded, aware of Mikage’s eyes on them. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, I had a headache for a while but Mikage gave me a painkiller and I got a nap, so I’m doing better.” She offered a tiny smile.

Slowly, he kissed her forehead again, eyes falling shut. “Good. Why don’t you lie down and I will fix you dinner?”

It was only because Nanami felt exhausted and still had a dull headache that she agreed. “Okay, but I’ll make it up to you later.”

“No need.” He kissed her again, and then released her. “Go on. I should be done in an hour.”

Both he and Mikage were silent until she’d gotten up and disappeared into her room, shutting the door behind her. Then, Tomoe sighed in exasperation and walked into the kitchen, trailed by Mikage. He checked the refrigerator, pulling items out and placing them on the counter. He was about to ask where that snake was, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Tomoe, we should talk.”

Here, Tomoe froze up, frowning slightly. “About what?”

“You know what this is about.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tomoe watched Mikage come closer, standing just at his periphery. Tomoe did his best not to look at Mikage as he retrieved various pots, and then began to chop the vegetables. “All right, fine.”

Mikage drew in an audible breath. “What do you plan to do about Rekka now? Are you going to go after him again?”

A snort escaped Tomoe. Like he’d tell Mikage his plans. If he did, he was sure the other god would attempt to talk him out of it — or even restrain him. “I can’t say what I will do. He is still a threat. I have no other ideas to stop him from draining Nanami.” He paused, wondering if he should mention his conversation with Akura-Ou’s incarnation. Hurriedly, he scrapped the notion. “What, do you have an idea?” He slid his gaze in Mikage’s direction.

Another frown lit on Mikage’s brow. “I do, but I can’t guarantee it’ll work.”

“All right. Enlighten me.” Tomoe swept the scraps from his dicing work into a bag.

“Since we agree that he’s using her trauma to drain her, I believe that by binding her memories, we can lock him out of her mind,” Mikage said.

At this, Tomoe clenched his teeth, chopping with more vigor. It would be so much easier, so much more permanent if they could get rid of him for good. That was a surefire way to lock him out of Nanami’s mind, but he held his tongue for now, deciding to hear Mikage out.

Mikage continued. “We’ve already established that Rekka feeds off the pain and suffering of others. That’s how he was born, after all. So if we can cut him off from one of his power sources, I believe he won’t be able to tap into her anymore.”

This drew Tomoe’s gaze to the other god, his jaw set tightly. Mikage returned his stare, even and unflinching. It was clear he wasn’t going to win this battle. And he hated to admit that Mikage had a point.

“It is a theory I have considered before too,” Tomoe admitted, drizzling a small amount of oil in a skillet. “When I fought him, he made use of the shadows to gain an advantage. He seems to thrive in darkness. I suppose trauma is the ultimate darkness then.” A frown settled on his brow, and he scraped chopped onions from the cutting board into the skillet.

Mikage nodded. “Those are my thoughts too. Even if it’s a longshot, it’s worth it to relieve Nanami of her trauma and pain, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Tomoe stirred the onions in the skillet. “I have been after her to do so for a while, but you may have a problem.”

“Ah, yes, she doesn’t want to forget everything.” Mikage hummed, and when Tomoe glanced at him, he noticed the faraway look in his eyes, the way he stared at the wall, brow furrowed. “We talked about this before, but I haven’t gotten a chance to discuss it with Nanami-san. I believe the time has come, though. So when she feels well enough, we’ll sit down and have that talk.”

They might not have time to wait, Tomoe thought, but again, he bit his tongue. “Very well, but you should do it quickly,” was all he said. Already, his mind worked on a back-up plan. It didn’t matter what Mikage or Nanami said they wanted, because the fact remained — Rekka must die. And he’d find a way to do it.

“Good, I’m glad we have an understanding.” Mikage offered a smile, something relaxed and easy. The tension left his shoulders.

And Tomoe offered a smile in return. “Of course.”

He decided to lay low until night.

—

Nanami must’ve been exhausted, because she went back to sleep immediately after dinner, Tomoe thought, staring down at her sleeping form before he left. He flicked a glance at the piece of his spirit he had left behind in a charm, to make it seem like he slept beside her should she wake up. Being connected to him meant she might see through the illusion, but it was more robust when it was a piece of him and not simply an ofuda attached to a pillow. At least this time he hadn’t had to use a piece of his heart. He would be fine, if not ever so slightly weaker.

Silently, he crept out through the crevices of the shrine, slipping by unnoticed. Not a soul stirred. Perfect. He wasn’t fool enough to think it would last long, however. He’d need to do this quickly.

Shifting to the spirit plane, he pulled his form back together and then swept out several balls of foxfire, hoping it worked this time. “Find Akura-Ou.” He watched as they sped off into the night, a smirk spreading across his face. A little voice in the back of his head whispered to him that this was a bad idea, that he risked throwing away all the progress he’d made with the gods. But it didn’t matter anymore. He had to save Nanami.

Perhaps Akura had known he was looking for him, or perhaps it had been their encounter in Nanami’s subconscious that convinced him. Whatever the reason, this time, that overbearing energy came out of nowhere, large and oppressive and uncomfortably hot. Tomoe whirled around, facing the path that led to the mononoke world, his ears trained on the heavy weight and the rustle of grass crushed beneath it. His eyes narrowed, body tensing and tail twitching as the presence grew nearer. And when those golden eyes flashed at him from just beyond the shadows, he bristled.

“You finally came to me, huh?”

Tomoe drew a breath and then stepped closer to the shadows, his eyes adjusting quickly and taking the other yokai in. “It is time to put our differences and our past aside -- at least temporarily.”

“Yeah? What made you decide that?” Akura studied him, his cold gaze boring straight through him.

“I am not a fool,” Tomoe said through his teeth. “I know you love Nanami. How you love her is not my concern, but you do care for her, don’t you?”

A burst of a laugh escaped Akura. “Oh, how amusing! You just now figured out I care about that woman?” His eyes grew wider, a smile stretching across his face. “She believed in me when no one else did. Of course I care.”

Tomoe bit down on his thumb, his eyes never leaving his former friend’s gaze. After a moment of staring each other down, he decided to get to the point. “Then you’re more than aware of that parasite known as Rekka eating away at her bit by bit.”

A snort left Akura. “Tell me something new.”

Eyes half lidding, Tomoe said, “Since you are aware how badly he is hurting Nanami, then I have a proposal for you.”

“Hm, what’s that?” Akura rubbed his chin, that same smile still on his face. He seemed a lot more interested now.

Taking a step forward, Tomoe smirked, and that smirk grew wider and wider, his fangs showing, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “I know where Rekka is. And I will give you the means to get to him.”

He watched Akura’s eyes widen. “Ohoho, and you’re not going after him yourself? You’d stoop to asking me after what you did to me?” He grinned, his sharp teeth bared. “You have some nerve.”

“This is not about me,” Tomoe hissed, his tail swishing back and forth. “I am asking you because you can handle it, and you have a personal stake in this matter. If I could get away with it, I would do it myself. But Nanami caught me and word bound me the last time.”

“What about now? You could go while she’s asleep.” Akura-Ou glanced at him, suspicious. “If this is another one of your schemes to trap me, I’m not interested.”

An angry sound caught in Tomoe’s throat. “I never trapped you in the first place! I would have let you go free.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t there to have my back so you did betray me.” Akura’s expression darkened, his eyes glinting in the half-light of the moon.

Another angry sound. “Is that really the point here? Are we really going to rehash this when the focus should be on Nanami?” Tomoe leaned closer, into Akura’s face. “I am willing to put our feud on hold long enough to figure this out. I will let you go.”

“Fine, but on one condition.” Akura’s eyes half shut, his smile less devious, more smug.

“What is that?”

“You come with me. Prove to me it’s not a trap.”

Growling, Tomoe glanced towards the shrine. This wouldn’t be easy. But they had a few hours before sunrise, and his spell should hold him over until then. “Fine,” he spat. “But we must hurry.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

There was a pause, and then the two smirked at each other, understanding crackling through the air. He had an ally. Perhaps it was a temporary alliance, but between the two of them, they could tackle anything. Nanami would be avenged.

Chapter Text

In no time at all, Tomoe and Akura-Ou had sped through the shortcut in the mononoke world to arrive at Izumo. Before they passed the threshold to the world of the gods, Tomoe affixed an ofuda to Akura, hiding him from prying eyes and attaching his energy to him, allowing him to pass through. It was reckless to do this, but he’d do anything for Nanami. It seemed that was Akura’s objective as well, because he followed, not once attempting to deviate from the path or cause trouble. Love made one do foolish, short-sighted things.

Without a word, they jumped through the kami entrance to Yomi. They landed softly, and Tomoe led him towards Izanami’s palace. That was the best place to start. But they would need to be cautious not to be caught.

“Once we are there, follow my lead,” Tomoe murmured to Akura. “We cannot afford to be caught. I have already burned my bridge with Izanami, and I doubt she would go easy on either of us if she saw us together.”

“I thought that’s what your dumb spell was for,” Akura complained. “Hiding me and shit.”

Here, Tomoe side eyed him. “It is, but it is not perfect. Remember, parts of my seal are still intact. I cannot guarantee it will hide us from the gods as well as we hope it will.”

“Oh, great, that’s fantastic,” Akura griped. Tomoe ignored him.

All was quiet as they reached the palace. Stealthily, they crept onto the grounds, along the wall. Subtlety wasn’t Akura’s forte, Tomoe thought, stealing a glance at his companion. But living as a human for a while seemed to have dulled his impulsive nature to some degree. He was a lot more careful now than he had been in the past.

Still, that didn’t mean that he didn’t have his disadvantages. He could think of one particularly pesky problem that might bar Akura from entry even with the disguise — and that was the talismans that no doubt protected the palace. In Yomi, all sorts of terrible creatures roamed freely, so of course Izanami would put measures in place to stop a demon from entering.

It was a shame Akura couldn’t slip through the cracks as a spirit, Tomoe thought with a frown. He chewed at a claw in thought. Generally, it was easier for yokai to enter through the demon gate, where their power was the strongest. As a god, that rule didn’t quite apply to him, though. And then, a realization struck him, and a smirk spread across his face. 

“I have an idea.” Akura flicked a golden gaze towards him. “I will sneak in first, and I will remove the talisman from the kimon. You should be able to enter then.”

“Hmm.” Akura shot him a suspicious glare. “You aren’t setting me up, are you?”

A snort left Tomoe. “If you don’t want to go that way, what do you expect me to do? Dig under the palace?”

“Fine, fine,” Akura griped. “Just make it quick.”

With a nod, Tomoe led him around the palace until they found the direction that pointed northeast. He placed his hands along the wall, feeling for the energy, and then his eyes widened. The resistance of a talisman. Another idea popped into his mind.

“Perhaps I can create a spiritual illusion of a door for you,” he murmured. “That would make it easier for you to pass through. I will need to apply another spell to you to make it work.”

“Okay,” Akura grumbled. “Just hurry up already.”

With a nod, Tomoe paused to tap Akura, a wave of energy passing over him. Then, he placed his hands on the wall until he found the weakest point, the blindspot. Manipulating spiritual energy, he created a spirit door and sank through. He held up a finger to halt Akura, and then finished slipping into the palace.

Once his eyes adjusted, he peered up to find the talisman. He’d replace it later. Swiping it from the wall, he slipped it into his haori, and then flattened his palm against the stone, his spirit entrance rippling and glowing blue. Now it was translucent, electric flames flickering through the side of the palace, and he reached out a finger, beckoning Akura to come. The other stepped through, and then Tomoe flicked his fan, directing energy. The door faded away.

“This way,” Tomoe murmured, his voice muted, confined to the singular space they occupied.

Wordlessly, Akura followed him down the hallway. It was so quiet. That eeriness set Tomoe on edge, and he walked softly, despite the masking spell he’d placed on himself. He sought out the energy, smelling the air subtly, past the musty stench of decay and rot. It was difficult to pick up on, but eventually he caught it — the subtle hint of miasma, the trace of sulfur. Bingo.

They stopped in front of the door, the same one Tomoe remembered. And he had a theory — that it wasn’t just a straight shot to Jigoku. It had been so suffocatingly dark he hadn’t been able to look around, but he was certain there were other doors, doors that led to prisoners. He pushed open the main door, revealing the top step of the stairwell. Behind him, he heard a sound of displeasure.

“Isn’t that nice?” Akura muttered.

“Did you expect anything else?” Tomoe replied, shooting a glance over his shoulder.

When Akura failed to reply, he lit a ball of foxfire in his palm, and then released it to hover over the air before them. He sent a second one to hover over Akura, and then two more to light the path directly in front of them. Carefully, slowly, they wound down the staircase. Now that he could see a little better thanks to his foxfire, he found it did twist down in a corkscrew fashion. With a slight frown, he released a few more balls of foxfire, wanting a better look. So far, the walls had been smooth stone, with no indication of an entrance. Eventually, however, they reached the base of the stairs. And that was when things got interesting.

Sending his foxfire to the left and the right, he found that the left was a dead-end, the only door before them being that to Jigoku. Even from here, he could feel the heat from the bridge of flames. To his right, however, he found that the path continued as a corridor. Humming softly, he turned and followed his foxfire. Since the darkness was so thick, he released a few more balls of foxfire on either side of them. With this additional illumination, the flames larger than he’d normally make them, he began to see what was around. Just as he’d suspected, there were doors on either side.

“What the hell is this place?” Akura grumbled under his breath.

“Hell is right,” Tomoe replied, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “Or rather, the space between the hells.”

“Space between the hells… Huh.”

“Yes. It is a liminal space between Yomi and Jigoku,” Tomoe replied, his tail flicking. He paused, frowning and searching for that energetic signature. “Akura-Ou.” Once again, he glanced over his shoulder, eyes locking with Akura’s. “You know what Rekka’s energy feels like better than I do. You had continuous exposure to it, didn’t you?”

A frown furrowed the oni’s brow. “Kinda. Are you talking about the energetic contract with Nanami?” During the pause, Tomoe nodded. “I’m only kind of aware of what goes on there. It’s not like I’m in her head. That would be ridiculous.”

“Ah, I suppose so.” Disappointment rolled over Tomoe like a fog. His ears laid back, another hum catching in his throat. “Then we will wing it.”

For a while, they walked in silence, the glow of the foxfire lighting their way. Despite only being able to see about a meter in front of them, they made fast progress. And then, an energy hit them from their right, the kind of darkness that was so thick it stopped both of them in their tracks. After a moment, they exchanged a glance, and then Tomoe nodded.

“That’s him all right,” Akura mumbled.

“It is.”

Tomoe turned towards the door. There was no handle. Laying an ear against the surface, he listened, brushing his palm over the door and feeling for a way in. A tingle of electricity, a surge of heat; his eyes widened. There. Rage and adrenaline beat loudly in his veins, but he didn’t falter. He manipulated the energy, picking the lock, and then the door morphed into a wavering, shimmering barrier. He stepped through easily, then turned to look at his companion. Akura shifted through as well. Then, the door solidified behind them.

An uneasy expression flickered over Akura’s face. “Was it supposed to do that?”

“Calm down,” Tomoe said in low tones, tail swishing. “We will find a way out. What is more important is exterminating that pest.”

A grunt left Akura, and his tone lowered, dark and deep. “That’s the damn truth.”

They ventured farther into the space, and Tomoe conjured additional foxfire. Rekka was here. He could feel him lurking, just beyond his reach. The scent of iron, of sulfur, bled out across the room. He was injured, Tomoe realized, a half grimace, half smirk stretching his face, his eyes flashing ferociously. Body tensing, stalking his prey, he stepped into the shadows, following that blood-brimstone scent.

“I know you are in here,” he growled. “Why don’t you come out and face us, Rekka? We will find you anyway.”

“Even if we have to smoke your ass out,” Akura spat, his eyes narrowing.

“I am losing my patience,” Tomoe snarled, his tail swishing, his blood running hot. He produced a small ball of foxfire in his hand, threatening. “Akura, let us play one last time. Not for old times’ sake, but for Nanami’s.”

“Then smoke the bastard out already,” Akura snapped. The sound of bones clicking in and out of place; Akura-Ou pressed a fist into one hand and then switched. “This is one fucker I can’t wait to tear to pieces.”

“I am glad we are on the same page,” Tomoe said.

They exchanged another glance, the same fire flashing in their eyes. One more time as a wild fox and the demon king, that was all Tomoe asked for, if only to save Nanami.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Tomoe conjured and swept a wall of foxfire all along the boundary of this space. Now that he knew where they were, that it wasn’t just floating in an endless nothingness, he felt a lot more comfortable, a lot more confident. The two of them prowled farther, and Tomoe swept another wall of foxfire to the other side as well.

“You fool, I know you are in here. I can smell you,” Tomoe said just above a whisper. “I will find you, and I will kill you.” That energy shrank back. He felt it morphing and adhering to the boundaries of the space. “What is this? Suddenly you fear me?” A dark chuckle caught in his throat, and he conjured another wall of foxfire. “Oh, that is right — you are not a god anymore. You are nothing more than a lowly worm cornered by the two most powerful ayakashi to ever exist. How pathetic.”

“I can’t wait to rip him limb from limb,” Akura sneered from behind him. “I’ll drink his blood and make him watch.”

“Then eat every last bit of him. Not a scrap should go to waste,” Tomoe hissed. His veins throbbed with that fury, that hatred. He felt hot from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet. The energy within him waxed to new heights, beating to be let free. He released it as a wall of foxfire.

With this new wave of foxfire, the shadows dissipated. There, huddled against the barrier, a dark figure leered at them, eyes flashing in the flames. His position was defensive, curled in on itself. His claws had not regenerated.

“There you are, you bastard,” Tomoe said sharply, his eyes narrowing. “How does it feel to be hunted and defenseless? To feel the fear and helplessness that Nanami felt?”

“Now that you mention it,” Akura said, tones low and traced with a growl, “I think we should torment him before we do him in. An eye for an eye.”

“Excellent idea. After all, that is what he did to our dear Nanami. He had no mercy, so neither shall we.” Towering over Rekka, Tomoe put a sandal on his head, forcing his head down, drawing a pained wheeze from him. But it wasn’t enough, only making his blood boil more. “What you did to Nanami was unforgivable. You took every last drop of her innocence on that day. But I am sure you know that already. You have been feeding off her pain like the greedy little leech you are. And that is all you are — a pathetic, no-name from the netherworld. A pathetic demon born from suffering. You are nothing more than an incarnation of pain.”

Tension hung thickly in the air for a beat, a beat that felt like an eternity, suffocating and crushing. Then, without even exchanging a glance, that mutual understanding crackling over thin air, both Tomoe and Akura struck. 

The rage overtook Tomoe, swelling to a screeching crescendo, and all Tomoe saw was red. He unsheathed his katana in one quick, fluid motion, instantly bringing it down on Rekka’s back. It slashed the demon, cutting through his clothing, but it wasn’t satisfying enough. His anger grew beyond the bounds of his body, and he furiously brought his katana down again and again, each blow calculated. Black blood welled to the surface of each cut, and yet it still wasn’t enough.  

“You will not even fight anymore? You are a coward and a monster — only picking on those weaker than you. Well, how does it feel to be overpowered?” Tomoe snarled. Then, he whipped his head in Akura’s direction. “Do your worst!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

With a sweep of his hand, Akura had materialized his club, the one he’d wielded five hundred years ago at the crux of his rule of terror. Even without making contact, being in the mere presence of it could drain one’s life force significantly. But Akura wasn’t keen to stand on the sidelines or take a passive approach. With a hefty swing, he bludgeoned Rekka’s temple. The demon’s screams filled the space until Tomoe drew a soundproof barrier.

Bending down, grabbing a fistful of Rekka’s hair, Tomoe jerked his head back and whispered in his ear, “No one can hear you scream here.” He drove his katana through his neck. A wet gurgle left Rekka, followed by a sharp cough.

“This is too easy,” Akura said with a humorless laugh. “It’s almost boring!”

“Indeed it is.” With a huff, Tomoe paused to meet Akura’s gaze, withdrawing his katana from Rekka’s throat. “But I will inflict every wound that Rekka left on Namami, sparing none.” Except for the sexual assault, he thought, but he kept that to himself. Perhaps it was best to leave it to Rekka’s imagination. “Now, roll him over and hold him down.”

“I’d be happy to.” With a wicked grin that didn’t meet his eyes, Akura-Ou rolled Rekka to his back, his fingers closing around the other demon’s wrists, stretching him out painfully and drawing another scream from him as he popped his joints from their sockets. He pinned him down. “Is this good?”

“Yes, that is perfect.” Tomoe brought his katana to his mouth, his eyes flashing dangerously, the blue flames reflected in them, dancing. Eyes on Rekka’s, he drew his tongue over the blade of his katana, tasting his blood. “You fool. You thought you could get away from me forever. But your luck has run out, and today you shall meet your end!”

Lunging, he swung his katana in a flurry of strikes, slashing his front. He recalled every last scar Rekka had dealt Nanami, and he struck deftly to leave the same wounds on Rekka. The demon struggled in Akura’s hold, but the oni only pinned down harder, forcing his entire weight and then some onto Rekka. The sickening crunch of bones split through the air, and a quick glance showed that Akura had crushed his wrists in.

“On your stomach, worm!” Tomoe commanded. When Rekka didn’t obey, Akura jerked him by his broken wrists, forcing him to his stomach. “Akura, hold his head in place. I am going to rend his throat.” He delivered his final line as a whisper, katana held sideways, eyes glinting with bloodlust. “I will make him feel the fear and pain Nanami felt.”

Akura seized Rekka by the hair, jerking his head up. Tomoe landed on his back, crouching on his spine, but he couldn’t even delight in the strangled scream of pain. Not when he thought of Nanami’s mournful, terrified eyes. Not when he remembered her crying, crawling to him desperately, seeking out refuge and safety. Not when he recalled the slow torment of her illness and how she’d clung to him in Hokkaido, anticipating her end. With one clean movement of his blade, he sliced through Rekka’s throat, just like the demon had done to Nanami. The sound of gagging, the liquid gurgling in his throat, the sickening plop of blood spilling out. Now Tomoe’s hands were coated in black, the spatters speckling the edge of his kimono.

“It’s my turn,” Akura insisted.

Again, they exchanged a glance, and in that silent agreement, switched places. Tomoe grabbed Rekka by the arms, digging his claws into his flesh, scratching at him viciously. His eyes remained on Rekka’s, wanting to drink in every last moment of his agony. From his peripheral vision, he could see Akura beating the demon mercilessly with his club. He bashed him, waled on him, even conjured flames to scorch him into the earth.

It was still not enough.

“Give me your katana,” Akura demanded, holding out his hand.

Wordlessly, Tomoe clicked the hilt from the sheath, then withdrew the blade and threw it to Akura. The oni caught it, and then tore Rekka’s clothes from his body. Grasping him by the ankle, he held his leg taut, and Tomoe watched on, his jaw set, his expression hard. Akura scraped the blade against Rekka’s skin, paring him as one would a fruit, drawing a scream from him. In response, Tomoe dug his claws deeper into his arms, hissing at him.

“Shush! You deserve this, you little brat. You deserve to suffer; you deserve to die a slow death—”

He’d hardly finished this sentiment when a strong surge passed over the thread like a thunderbolt. Gasping sharply, he released Rekka, compelled by some unknown entity. And then he felt it — her anger. With wide eyes, paralyzed, he realized that Nanami knew.

Snap. This time, he didn’t even need to hear her words to feel the lash of her binding. Another gasp wracked him, drawing Akura’s attention. Realizing that his non-compliance to her wishes might land them in hot water, he spoke to his companion just above a whisper. “We must leave.”

“What the fuck? Why?” Akura snapped. “We haven’t killed the bastard yet!”

“It is Nanami,” Tomoe gasped, suddenly standing up straight. “She is binding me. We have to leave before you are caught.”

“Damn it!” Akura huffed. “Let me kill the fucker now and get it over with.”

Snap snap snap. A strangled sound of pain escaped Tomoe. He found himself floating towards the exit against his will. “You’d better come now or you will be trapped here,” he called after Akura.

A curse, and then the squelch of a final, satisfying stab. Reluctantly, Akura withdrew Tomoe’s katana from Rekka’s back, and then he followed him towards the door. A spiritual barrier opened, and both he and Akura were all but sucked out. How was Nanami doing this? Tomoe’s heart raced as he wondered whether or not someone else had figured it out and was behind this.

Crack. This time, it was much more vigorous, much more painful. He sucked a breath through his teeth, shuddering, and shot forth up the staircase so quickly he nearly bumped into the walls, nearly gave himself whiplash. He barely had time to open the door before he was pulled by invisible marionette strings down the hallway. Behind him, Akura struggled to keep up. As they reached the way they’d come in, Tomoe hit the wall hard.

Cursing, he pressed his hands against the wall, but that thread kept pulling him against it. Damn it, Nanami, he thought, and hurriedly manipulated a way out. “Hurry, now!” he called to his companion. As he was sucked out, Tomoe slapped the talisman back on at the same instant Akura-Ou leapt through, and a spark of electric shock nipped at the demon’s boot. He’d narrowly avoided being closed into the wall.

“Shit!” Akura spat, falling to the ground. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet.

“Damn it,” Tomoe seethed, grinding his teeth. Once again, he sped towards the entrance to Yomi. Even Akura could hardly keep up. Sensing his comrade’s struggle, not wanting to leave him behind, Tomoe reached out a hand to him. “Take my hand. Now.”

Without complaint, Akura seized his hand and Tomoe dragged him along as he shot forth into the sky, faster and faster, his ears plasted against his head from the sheer force of their speed.

They burst through the barrier of the kami entrance forcefully, and then the binding released him. Tumbling to the ground, Tomoe fell to his face with a grunt. A heavy weight crashed down on top of him and, despite the years that had passed, he recognized the hard sinew of Akura’s body.

The gritty click of sandals against pavement was followed by the more muted thump of closed-in shoes. There were two gods here. A second later, Tomoe recognized their energy signatures. Uh, oh.

“Tomoe!” Nanami’s voice cut through the fog in his head as her binding released him, and he opened his eyes, met by her angry stare, her pout. But the worst part was the tears that swam in her eyes, her chin quivering. His ears lowered.

Quickly, he snapped his gaze to the ground, unable to bear her scrutinizing stare. That didn’t last, because a pair of sandals appeared before him. He followed the legs up to find Mikage scowling down at him, his arms crossed. “I am very disappointed in you, Tomoe.”

Tomoe’s mouth opened and shut. He wanted to ask how they’d figured it out, but he stopped. Did it matter? The end result was the same.

“So, uh, have fun with that,” Akura said, picking his weight off of Tomoe’s back.

Again, Tomoe’s mouth fell open, his eyebrow twitching. Was Akura-Ou leaving? He lifted his head, but all he got in return was a knowing glance from his former friend. It wasn’t cowardice; it was on purpose, he realized, eyes growing wider. The oni took off in a blast of red energy, shooting straight into the shadows and to the threshold to the mononoke world. Fuck.

Nanami stepped closer and crouched down, hardly able to breathe. She felt like her heart had shattered into a million pieces. Just seeing Tomoe lying there, his hands and forearms coated in blood, made her stomach turn. She hugged her knees to her chest, a soft breath catching in her throat, one tear and then another falling.

“How could you?”

“N-Nanami,” he stammered. His rage evaporated. Something in his chest twisted tightly into knots, even more so as he watched her tears spill over. He scrambled to sit up, his ears alert, eyes wide. “Please do not cry.”

“You’re not even sorry at all!” Nanami burst out, eyes flashing as she met his. “You were going to kill him. You even brought Akura-Ou along! Why would you do that?”

“We wished to protect you—”

Her breath hitched. “I told you I didn’t want it to be like this. I told you we’d find another way.” Here, she gestured towards Mikage. “Mikage said he had an idea that doesn’t involve violence! But you just couldn’t wait, could you?”

Ears drooping, Tomoe shifted closer, expression falling, grieved. His stomach twisted further, this gnawing, heavy feeling at the pit of it. What if Nanami hated him for what he’d done? “I did not mean to hurt you.”

“This isn’t who you are!” Nanami shouted, leaning closer to his face, watching him flinch. “You’re so much better than this — at least, I thought you were. It’s my body and my life, and you should listen when I say how I want it handled!” She sniffed, bringing the heel of her hand up to wipe her eye. “Going after him like this, when he’s not even that powerful anymore, is too much. You didn’t need to do that. You’re hurting him for the sake of hurting him, and it breaks my heart into pieces that you could still be this way.”

Tomoe’s breaths came shakily, ears low and stuck to his head. “Nanami, I am so sorry—”

Interrupting him, Nanami balled her hands into fists. “I know you’re scared! I’m scared too. But Mikage’s right — the gods didn’t kill you. Who are you to decide who lives and dies? That’s not your jurisdiction! You always said that you hated how the gods thought they were always right, that they decided what was moral, so you don’t get to turn around and be a hypocrite.”

Tomoe clenched his teeth, sucking a breath through them. Her words stabbed him deeply. It was something he’d reiterated time and time again, but she’d never echoed that sentiment. Now, however, she threw in his face what he’d always known, and it hurt.

“I don’t want you to murder again,” Nanami continued, a hiccup catching in her throat. “Not ever again.”

It was clear Nanami was angry with him, but the question Tomoe really worried about stayed on the tip of his tongue — did she hate him? Could she still love him after this? He wondered if he’d ruined their marriage, if he’d broken her trust in him. As much as he wanted to ask, he found himself frozen, unable to say a word.

A long sigh escaped from Nanami. No matter how angry she was, she couldn’t help but hurt for him when she saw that devastated expression on his face. He’d reverted back to a wild fox. And this was how wild foxes were. The scolding was more than enough; he didn’t deserve punishment on top of that.

“Don’t worry. Mikage and I aren’t going to tell anyone,” she muttered. “Not Ookuninushi or Otohiko or anyone else.” She straightened up, hugging herself. Then, sternly, she said, “Come home. And don’t you dare go after Rekka again.”

Snap. His eyes grew wider and he nodded vigorously. He got to his feet and prepared to take off towards the mononoke highways.

“Wait!” Nanami watched every muscle in Tomoe’s body visibly freeze, his mouth sharply downturned as he was suspended in thin air on a small flicker of foxfire. “We’re taking the night fog carriage home, so come with us and clean up.”

Slowly, he dropped to the ground. He had no choice but to follow Nanami and Mikage, his tail drooping. He had a feeling he’d really shot himself in the foot this time, and he was lucky that neither Nanami nor Mikage would report him to Ookuninushi.

He just hoped that he could repair the damage done. 

Chapter Text

Although Nanami had originally planned to wait until the morning to address Tomoe’s actions in Yomi, she quickly found that none of them felt like relaxing, much less sleeping. Their upset hung thickly in the air, not just from her or Tomoe either, but from Mikage and Mizuki as well. Since Nanami had told Mizuki what was going on, he’d refused to even look at Tomoe. And yet they all found themselves sitting around the kitchen table at three in the morning, untouched cups of tea set before them and growing colder by the second.

Eventually, Mikage broke the silence. “I am sure you’re aware of this, Tomoe, but you’re very lucky Nanami discovered what you’d done when she did.”

Tomoe snapped his eyes up from the table, where he’d been fixating his ashamed stare. Swallowing hard, he nodded.

“I know you think she’s being unreasonable, but you should be grateful she can word bind you. She saved you from a lot of grief,” he said solemnly. “Perhaps even from being sentenced to death.”

Here, Tomoe shivered. He nodded robotically.

Mikage continued. “If Ookuninushi — or anyone else — had discovered you with Akura-Ou, there would be no second chances. You’re fortunate that Nanami and I believe in you and have seen your heart.”

Tomoe drew in a long, shaky breath which he released in a sigh. His ears drooped sideways. This was one of those rare times the depth of his feelings — the fear, the guilt, the misery — drove him to complete silence. There were no words to defend himself.

“I knew you still had it in you,” Mizuki grumbled under his breath. “You can’t leave your wild fox nature behind, huh?”

Tomoe’s eyes dropped to his cup again. He said nothing.

As angry and hurt as Nanami had been, to see Tomoe so silent, to see him taking the scolding instead of lashing out, told her he was still in there. He was such a proud fox, she thought. Recalling how she’d told him he wasn’t even sorry, she sighed. Silently, she took those words back. Based on the look on his face, the way he didn’t try to defend himself, he did feel remorse. Maybe not for Rekka’s pain, but certainly for what he’d put the rest of them through. There was just one other thing she wanted to know.

“Tomoe,” she said, waiting until he’d lifted his eyes to meet hers. She swallowed hard, willing herself to push past how sad his eyes looked. “How do you feel about yourself right now? If you didn’t worry about how it had hurt us. How do you feel about you ?”

It was an unexpected question, so Tomoe couldn’t answer right away. He traced a clawed finger over the rim of his cup, eyes darting from hers to the table several times. If he thought about what she’d told him all along — that he was kind, sweet, gentle — it didn’t match up to his actions at all. Perhaps she’d assigned those qualities to him, as he’d never thought of himself in those terms, but something about having shattered those expectations felt so ugly. It was confusing — how he still wanted to torture and kill Rekka, but her disappointment hurt.

He exhaled shakily. “I feel just like you said — like a wild fox.” Judging by the look on her face, that wasn’t an appropriate answer. He breathed in again. “It was a side of myself I have not seen in a while.” 

He tapped his claw against the rim of his cup, flashing back to how he and Akura had ganged up on Rekka, only to torture him, toying with their food. Was that what he had been reduced to? Inwardly, he cursed himself. He should’ve killed him immediately. Even if Rekka had deserved it.

Finally, he admitted, “I am confused.”

A flare of heat rose straight to Nanami’s face. She planted her hands on the table and leaned over, making him jolt. “Confused? How can you say that? You know what could’ve happened! It could’ve ended so much worse than that.”

His ears plastered to his head again. “But I am confused! I do not know how I feel about myself. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I dragged it out. I should have killed him instantly. That is all.”

She sank back into her cushion, feeling numb. So he still wanted to kill Rekka. She supposed he couldn’t help that as much, given the way he’d grown up. During those times, violence had been the norm — it was kill or be killed. As a fiercesome yokai, he’d constantly had to ward off those who wanted him out of the way as well as dodge the battles in the warring states era. Of course fighting would be his go to whenever he was threatened or angry; he’d never known that fighting was an option and not a necessity until she’d come along. Not to mention, their marital contract required him to protect her at all costs. Of course he’d revert. But what she’d felt from him over the thread — the bloodlust, the hatred, the thirst for vengeance, the urge to toy with Rekka — all felt so wrong.

“I know you tortured him,” she said coolly, her eyes half lidding. “You did, didn’t you? You said you should’ve killed him instantly, which says my hunch is right.”

He couldn’t lie to her, no matter how much he wanted to in this moment. It wasn’t like she didn’t know already. However, before he could do more than open his mouth, Mizuki interrupted.

“Of course he did. I told you he was dangerous,” he grumbled.

Had he lost Mizuki’s trust too? Although Tomoe had hated the snake at first, he’d recently come to enjoy being a part of this family dynamic. Had he ruined that? Pausing, he looked around the table at everyone’s unhappy expressions. His ears drooped again. “I am dangerous,” he muttered. “And I am a wild fox.” A pause; he stared down at his cup. “Yes, I did torture him. I was so angry—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. He knew that wouldn’t matter to Nanami.

“So you went to kill him, and you only left him half dead to suffer,” Nanami said, a twinge coming to her chest. “Tomoe…”

“I’m sorry.” He hung his head, his eyes falling shut. “For losing my head and for letting you down.”

As upsetting as it’d been, Nanami couldn’t stay angry at Tomoe. Not when she’d seen his desperation, his rage. Not when she’d felt his heartache and his grief when he’d thought that he’d lose her. Now, with his head hung low, he seemed more aware of what he’d done than the last time he’d attacked Rekka. It would take Mizuki longer to forgive him, and she wasn’t sure how Mikage felt, but neither of them knew Tomoe like she did. For him to be this humble spoke volumes. 

“I can’t say it’s okay because you can’t take back what you did, but I’ll forgive you,” she said quietly. “I know why you did it. I know that you get scared. Maybe it’s not an excuse, but I also know this is how you grew up and solved your problems. Honestly, it hasn’t been that long since you became a part of the modern world.”

“Nanami-chan, don’t make excuses for him!” Mizuki gasped. His brow furrowed and he leaned closer. “What he did was excessive and wrong.”

“I know it was excessive and wrong!” Nanami replied, clenching her fists in her lap. “And I’m not excusing that. I’m stating the facts. No one’s gonna be perfect after a life like that, and I saw what he went through when I travelled to the past.”

A lengthy sigh escaped Mikage. “Nanami-san is right. Tomoe has come a long way, but rehabilitation like this can take years, especially when it’s so deeply ingrained. It’s why we can’t release him from the familiar contract — because he’s going to slip up.”

“I make this mistake again and again because it is who I am,” Tomoe murmured, not daring to make eye contact with any of them. “I am not a human. It is my nature as a wild fox.”

Seeing that he was backsliding, Nanami turned towards him, grasping his sleeve. “Don’t say things like that! It sounds like an excuse, and we both know it’s not true. You can be very kind and gentle.”

Mikage brought his tea to his mouth, taking a sip, his brow creased in worry. “While Tomoe can be those things, he is correct that yokai are different. Their capacity for empathy and love is more limited than it is for humans, whether we like to admit that or not.”

Tomoe’s eyes dropped back to the table. They weren’t saying it wasn’t his fault, but it was a small comfort to hear Mikage agreeing with what he’d tried to tell them all along. Naturally, he didn’t want anything bad to happen, but the only one he could say that he loved with certainty was Nanami. That was always how it had been with foxes — they only loved their mates. Perhaps he did like the people he considered his friends, but love was a stretch.

“I can’t believe that,” Nanami said, tilting her head towards Mikage. “That yokai really don’t sympathize or love.”

Mikage’s expression softened. “They can empathize. They can love. Just not in the way that humans do.” He took another sip of tea. “The flip side is that when they find someone they do love, it makes them fiercely loyal. Falling in love is a serious thing for ayakashi.”

Here, Nanami sighed, her eyes drifting back to Tomoe. Even if yokai were different, it didn’t mean that Tomoe was inherently bad. For so long, she’d worked with him, trying to build up his self esteem from that perspective, to show him that he had plenty of goodness within him. Chasing this train of thought wasn’t going to do anything but make Tomoe feel bad about being a yokai, though, so she tried to steer the conversation back to what had happened.

“So do you get why what you did was wrong?” she asked, trying to meet Tomoe’s gaze. He flicked his stare up to her. “I want to hear it from you. Why it was wrong.”

Was this a pop quiz? It felt like a trap, some way to call him out and show him what a monster he was. With a fluttering sigh, he forced himself to stare at her as he answered. “Because he is much weaker than I am and I kicked him around.”

“And?” Nanami pressed.

What more was there? Tomoe stalled for time by taking a sip of his cold tea. He still believed Rekka should die, and he knew she didn’t like that, but his opinion wasn’t going to change. “And I went against the will of the gods,” he muttered, cupping his chin in his hand.

She frowned. “No, that’s not it! Killing anyone is wrong!”

His eyes half lidded, his gaze cold. “He would not have thought twice about killing you. He still would not.”

“That’s beside the point! Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Nanami retorted.

“Don’t bother,” Mizuki said with a huff. “He’s not going to come around. He’ll keep thinking Rekka should die no matter what you say.”

“And you don’t believe that he should?” Tomoe finally snapped, the tension reaching a breaking point inside him.

Mizuki shot him a cool glance. “Shut up, Tomoe.”

“You know you want him dead too,” Tomoe grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m not going to act on it because Nanami-chan wouldn’t want that,” Mizuki fired back.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Nanami said sternly, frowning. “We all have those feelings. When we were in Jigoku and Tomoe stabbed Rekka, I was glad. I couldn’t help it. I was scared and hurt. Did it last? No. Do I think Rekka can change? Not really, because I don’t think he wants to. But that doesn’t give me a right to decide whether he should die or not.”

Tomoe stared at her for a moment. Despite their differences of opinion, despite the fact she could be so naive, there was something about her in this moment that was humbling. Sighing, averting his gaze, he mumbled, “You are much more mature than I am, Nanami.”

It was spoken so quietly that she almost missed it, but when it sank in, it struck her hard. He’d complimented her. Perhaps the circumstances weren’t ideal, but he’d recognized it — that he was behaving badly and immaturely. Instead of picking at it, she chose to stay quiet and appreciate this rare moment, lifting her own cup to drink. It wasn’t appropriate to feel this warm.

“Well,” Mikage said with a small sigh, “since it seems like we’ve settled that, I believe I speak for all of us when I say we should get some sleep. It’s quite late.”

A groan left Nanami. “Oh, yeah, and I have work tomorrow.” She grimaced, glancing at the clock. She’d be so tired.

“Are you okay to work?” Mizuki asked, his brow furrowing with concern, eyes large and locked on her. “You were really sick earlier today.”

Offering a warm smile, eyes falling shut, Nanami said, “I’m feeling a lot better thanks to you and Mikage. I think I’ll be all right for a while.” She rose from the table, taking a final, large drink from her cup and then rinsing it out in the sink. Once she’d finished washing her cup and putting it away, she turned, pausing before Tomoe. “Are you coming to bed?”

He flicked a hesitant glance up at her. “I am not to sleep on the couch?”

Her expression morphed into a sympathetic smile and shook her head. “No, you can still share my bed. Just because I’m disappointed in you doesn’t mean I hate you.”

Thank the gods. Tomoe couldn’t help his heavy sigh of relief, the tension bleeding out of him and leaving him weak. “I was worried you did.”

“What? No!” Nanami waved her hands. “None of us hate you. We’re upset and hate what you did, but we don’t hate you .”

Although Tomoe wasn’t so sure about Mizuki, he didn’t question it. Instead, he got to his feet, quickly washing his cup out in the sink and then joining her. “I will sleep by your side,” he agreed.

“Good. And this time, you stay in bed,” she chided, sticking a finger in his face, in front of his nose. He stared cross-eyed at it, leaning away from the intrusion. Then, softening her tone, she spoke to Mikage and Mizuki. “Good night. Get some rest.”

With that, she led Tomoe into her room and shut the door. She didn’t want to think of the implications of Tomoe teaming up with Akura, or what it meant for Akura to have accepted working with the person he hated now. The thought of what it could mean had her stomach rocking, queasy. It was best not to question it — for now.

—

Tomoe and Akura-Ou must’ve hurt Rekka badly, because she hadn’t been drained since, Nanami thought as she left work for the day. Maybe she didn’t feel one hundred percent, but even with the lack of sleep, she felt better than she had in a long time. She hadn’t realized how much Rekka had subtly drained her, even day to day, but now she noticed the stark difference. It wasn’t just about the level of energy she had; she felt more alert, clear-headed, focused.

Even if she hadn’t approved of Tomoe’s method of attaining this for her, she couldn’t help but be grateful.

She stood outside, looking at her phone and keeping close to the storefront where it was lit, waiting for Tomoe to pick her up in the night fog carriage. It sucked that it got dark so early, she thought with a small sigh. The only upside was not having to walk home — and the fact that Tomoe picked her up, not wanting her out by herself at night. Just as she replied to a text from Ami, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, her body picking up on the dark energy before her brain caught up. A voice called out from her left.

“Yo.”

Every muscle in her body tensed to the point that she felt like she was made of stone. Was he really so bold as to step out in public? Mouth dry, she flicked a sideways gaze towards Akura-Ou, her grip tightening on her phone. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to kidnap me again?” she burst out, glaring.

“Wow, such a cold reception.” He laughed, hands jammed in the pockets of his jacket, a smirk spreading across his face. He didn’t seem bothered in the least. “I’m not here to kidnap you, woman. I’m here to tell you — you don’t have a thing to worry about while I’m around.”

What kind of greeting was that? She flicked another glance in his direction. “Uh, not to be rude, but this is kinda random.”

“Not really.” His eyes half lidded, and he leaned closer, causing her to inch back. “You might be able to word bind Tomoe, but you can’t control me. And I’m going to kill that son of a bitch for you. You won’t have to worry about his ass much longer.”

Her eyes widened. He was talking about Rekka. “Don’t kill him!” she gasped.

“Why not? He fucked you up. After what he did? He more than deserves it.” Akura cracked his knuckles. “Besides, if you’re worried about the gods, don’t be. I can hold my own against them. And Tomoe gave me permission, so that’s getting a god’s authorization isn’t it?” He snorted, a grimace stretching his lips. “As soon as I find a way back there, I’m gonna wipe Rekka out once and for all.”

Tomoe had given him permission? She bristled, wondering if Akura was referring to the night before. Surely, the discussion they’d had with Tomoe in the wee hours of the morning had driven some sense into him. “I hope this happened last night and not today,” she said coolly. He only blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. “I mean, I hope Tomoe gave you permission yesterday and not today.”

“Ha!” Akura shut his eyes, chin jutting in the air. “Does it matter when he did? He hasn’t taken it back, so it still counts.”

“Yeah, but you can’t get to Yomi without a god—” As soon as she’d finished saying that, she realized. She was a god, and he could easily overpower her. Her breath hitched in her throat unbearably sharp, and she shrank back against the storefront, her heart rabbiting. Despite that tension that gripped her entire body, twisting in her chest, she planted her feet in a firm stance and frowned. “If you think you can take me with you so you can get in the door, you’re wrong. I won’t let you.”

This elicited a cool gaze from him. “I’m not going to put you through that. I saw what that fool did to you.” He laughed dryly. “No, I won’t take you with me. I’m just telling you — I’m going to kick his ass, and then I’ll give you your energy back.”

Her energy. This had her eyes widening, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh!” She brought a hand up to her mouth. She’d all but forgotten that he held the last remnants of it within his body.

“Yeah, I haven’t given it back yet because the bastard will just eat it if he’s not taken care of first.” Here, Akura glowered. “And then you’d really be screwed.”

She nodded feebly. “So he’s really eating it? He’s not storing it anywhere?”

With a huff, Akura shook his head. “No idea, but we didn’t sense any other energy last night. I think he’s using it to sustain himself — it’s probably why he didn’t die straight away when we attacked him. ‘Cause he held himself together with the energy from multiple gods.” Here, he snorted. “The gods stripped a lot of his power. He’s pretty fucking useless even with the gods’ energy.”

“Oh… Well, I’m glad he can’t do any more damage to anyone,” she said, slipping her phone into her purse, feeling a little less on edge now.

Lifting an eyebrow, Akura reminded her, “He’s still doing damage to you.”

She smiled wanly and waved her hands. “No, no, I actually feel much better today. I don’t think he’s going to bother me again.”

Another smirk spread across Akura’s face. “Is that so? Huh, funny how a guy starts to behave when he nearly gets killed. Pretty sure he’s too fucked up to do anything...for now.” He leaned in closer, making her flinch. “You should thank us for tearing that bastard up.”

“Uh… I never asked for it.” She swallowed hard, tightening her hold on her bag.

“Yeah, well, you should still be glad he got what he deserved.” As though proud of himself, he added, “Tomoe gave that piece of shit the same wounds he gave you. And I beat him to a bloody pulp. I was going to finish skinning him like a pelt, but then you word bound Tomoe.”

At this, Nanami’s eyes grew huge. She squealed and covered her ears with her hands. “Stop it! I don’t want to know what you did.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed herself not to think about the kinds of wounds Rekka had left on her. Already, her heart raced again, the images flashing through her mind — the searing pain, the hot shock of claws tearing her skin open, the terror of having him on top of her. Before she could do more than sway, panting openly, a hand gripped her wrist and jerked her back to the present.

“Calm down!”

“You should know better!” Nanami retorted, scowling despite the tears at the corners of her eyes. Her chest heaved for a moment, and she watched as something hesitant and almost soft passed through his eyes. Slowly, he released her wrist.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, no longer meeting her gaze. His lips pursed in a pout. Then: “Anyway, I better get out of here before that stupid fox shows up. All I came to do was tell you — whether you want it or not, I’m going to protect you. I’ll kill him, and then you’ll be free.” He shot her a smirk over his shoulder, pausing before an alleyway. “See you around.”

As he disappeared, Nanami stared at the vacant space he’d once occupied. The soft whisper of faraway traffic faded in to the foreground, the blurred murmur of quiet conversation wavering through Candy Alley. She blinked. No one had noticed him.

Even as the regular ambiance of Kawagoe trickled back into the forefront of her awareness, she continued to lean back against the storefront, reeling. Certainly, Tomoe would know that Akura had been there. As for what she’d say to him… She had no idea. 

It didn’t seem like she’d have time to figure it out, though, because the wind picked up, and then the night fog carriage came into view, hovering over the street. The doors flew open, revealing Tomoe standing at the edge, looking down at her. Her jaw dropped at his audacity, and then she scrambled to meet him, hoping that they could get out of here before too many people saw him.

“Tomoe!” She hopped, grabbing for the edge of the carriage, but it was too tall for her to get inside on her own. After glancing to her right and left to make sure no one was gawking, she thrust her hand out towards him. “Help me in! Quick!”

For whatever reason, she seemed frantic. Concerned, Tomoe grabbed her hand and pulled her up, helping her into the carriage. As soon as the doors shut, he had his hands all over her, checking for injuries, even if he only found a bruise. “Have you run into someone unfavorable again?” he asked.

“No!” she blurted. Then, thinking of what Akura had told her, she amended her answer. “I mean, yeah, but he isn’t gonna hurt me! I’m okay.”

At this, Tomoe scowled. Of course he’d sensed it — that dark, overbearing energy radiating from somewhere nearby. Now Nanami all but confirmed it, and he huffed through his nose. “Has Akura been sniffing around again?”

The night fog carriage jolted, lifting higher into the sky, and Nanami teetered on her feet, crashing into Tomoe’s chest. He held her steady in his arms until she had stabilized, and then he urged her to sit with him. Still rattled, she only uttered, “Uh huh.”

“I had a feeling he would not leave you alone,” Tomoe grumbled, his ears pinning to his head. “What did he want this time?”

Should she really mention it to him? At first, she thought it might be better to wave it off, not wanting to plant fresh ideas into his head about scheming with Akura. But then she realized — if Akura did make it to Yomi, Tomoe might end up taking the fall for it.

Now equally concerned, she glanced up at him suddenly, her brows knitted in a miserable frown. “He’s planning to go back,” she said, gripping the front of his kimono. “He said he’s gonna hunt down Rekka, ‘cause I can stop you, but I can’t stop him.”

With her looking at him like that, Tomoe shouldn’t have been relieved. He shouldn’t have been happy, but he couldn’t help himself. Inwardly, he thanked Akura for pursuing what he was unable to, for protecting Nanami even when it seemed impossible. The oni risked entrapment by the gods without him there to protect him, and yet he still plunged forward. He had always been so reckless.

“And why does this upset you so? It is not me performing the act, and we can hardly control what Akura does.” Tomoe tilted his head, studying her gaze. “Are you truly that against Rekka being put to death for his actions?”

“It’s not you doing it, but the gods might think so!” Nanami insisted, pressing closer. When Tomoe arched an eyebrow, showcasing his skepticism, she explained, “Akura said he’d gotten your permission. And, besides, everyone will wonder how he got to Yomi without a god. They think so badly of you that they’d jump to their own conclusions!”

Tomoe stared down at her, slack-jawed. “If Akura does implicate me, then he has not done it deceivingly. It is true that I said he could kill Rekka. If it is the truth, is it jumping to conclusions?”

Her heart skipped. So they still weren’t seeing eye to eye on this, she thought sadly. “I don’t get why you aren’t more worried about this! Aren’t you worried about what the gods will do to you? ‘Cause I am!”

“And I am not — in this case.” Tomoe gazed down at her evenly, cupping her face in his hands ever so delicately. “Nanami, I would accept imprisonment for a hundred thousand years, if it meant you would be safe. You are my priority, no matter what happens, and I will never let another jeopardize it. To save my own skin at the sake of yours… It is not even possible in my mind.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you to be trapped again,” she insisted, gripping his kimono tighter. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. I don’t want you to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for. It would really hurt me if you did.”

“It would hurt me far more if something were to happen to you,” he interjected. “I understand where you are coming from, but you must understand where I am coming from too.” Gazing down at her, he thought — her eyes were so wide, filled with such innocence even now. It winded him, boggled his mind, that she would insist on preserving and protecting the demon who had destroyed her life so completely.  “He must die, one way or another. I will protect you. I swore to it — it is a part of our marital contract, after all — and I will find a way to end this once and for all. Even if that means sitting back while Akura takes charge.”

She sucked in a cool breath, her fingertips lighting on his wrist. His eyes remained locked on hers, the lamplight reflected in them, his pupils narrow slits. It had been a while since his eyes had made her heart pound like they did now, but he looked wild, more animal than human. Even though she knew he could feel just as deeply as she could, his nature came out in the extremism of his reactions. And when she saw that part of him, she couldn’t help but grow nervous.

She didn’t need to say what she felt for him to understand it. Her wide eyes and haunting stare, the light tremor that ran through her body, and the scent of cortisol all spoke to her stress. And not just that, he realized as her breaths puffed quicker against his wrists. She was frightened too.

His gaze softened and he ran his thumbs over her lips, pressing his forehead to hers. “Do not think I don’t care about your feelings,” he said, his tone gentler. “I do, very much so. I don’t want to scare you.”

She swallowed hard, studying his gaze. “I know you don’t,” she said softly. “But we’re not gonna see eye to eye on this are we?”

To this, he shook his head, even as remorse flooded over him. “No, I am afraid not.”

“You won’t change your mind and stop Akura?” she asked.

His eyes glinted, flashing, and his tail flicked once. “No, not any more than you will change your mind.”

“Then, would you at least hold Akura back out of your love and respect for me? Will you let Mikage and me handle it our way?” She already knew the answer, but she bit her lip and held her breath all the same.

Even though the movement was so subtle one might miss it, Tomoe sensed her chest still. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he refused to lie. “No. That is a request I cannot fulfill, Nanami. I love you deeply and I respect you just as much, but you are young and you don’t understand. We cannot treat a demon like a human. They are not the same.”

A sad smile flickered over her mouth, and several previously unnoticed tears spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say. It hurts to know you’re like this.”

A shuddering sigh left him, collapsing his chest. “My dear Nanami, I am sorry I disappoint you. But you have known all along who and what I am. I never hid it from you. I only held back because I love you.” He pulled her chin close and touched his lips to hers.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she allowed the contact. When he pulled back, his breath falling on her face, she opened her eyes to look into his, their lips an inch apart. “You don’t love me enough to hold back now?”

“It is because I love you too much,” he replied, and then he leaned his forehead against hers again, eyes falling shut, mouth pulled down in something grieved. “I am truly sorry I cannot give you what you want. I hope that it does not break your trust in me. Truly, I don’t want to ruin our relationship over this.”

Here, she shook her head slightly. “You won’t,” she said softly. “As long as you don’t do what you did before — torturing him — then I can forgive you. Please just promise me you won’t go that far again. Not just with him, but with anyone.”

“That I can promise you. I have no desire to do that ever again.” Listening to her sniff loudly, feeling her sharp exhale against his mouth, he slipped his other arm around her and pulled her close. Before he pressed his mouth to hers, he said again, “I love you. I will take care of you.”

With her tears catching in her lashes, she accepted the warmth of his kiss, and after a moment, she pressed her lips to his in return.

Chapter Text

After realizing that nothing she could do would sway Tomoe’s opinion, Nanami had continued to feel morose all through the evening. It wasn’t something that she could easily shake, especially when his actions recently had contradicted the view she’d built of him. Instead of wanting to push him away, though, she wanted to reconnect with him, to feel like everything was still the same, in some ways. If she could just see eye to eye with him again, then perhaps she could come to terms with their differences, she thought. And they’d always used their bodies to communicate when words had failed them, so while Tomoe was in the bath, she disrobed and slipped under the covers, fully naked, holding the duvet up to her nose. She was desperate for them to align again.

Only a few minutes elapsed before he finally wandered into the room. She said nothing, instead lying on her side with her back to the door and her neck craned to watch him, deciding to let him discover her nakedness for himself. The door shut, and he padded over to the futon. Her eyes followed him until he lifted the duvet and slipped beneath it, and then she dropped her head to the pillow again, facing away from him. She listened to him shift amongst the covers, and then a long sigh left him. As usual, his body found hers and he curled around her to spoon her. But no sooner had he done so, no sooner than his hand had lighted on her bare stomach, did his body stiffen in surprise.

Instantly, a thrill shot through Tomoe’s body, his heart beating faster. He cursed himself for being so easily affected when he had no idea if this was the time for that or not. Lifting his head, mouth dry, he asked, “Did you overheat?”

Fresh vulnerability had her curling up in a tighter ball, and she touched gentle fingertips to the back of his hand. “No,” she said softly. “I just wanted you.”

Something about her tone sounded so fragile right now; he was almost afraid to touch her. He stared at the back of her head for a moment, and then his eyes drifted to the shell of her ear, to the nape of her neck, to the tendon stretched out in her throat, the line disappearing beneath the duvet. Unable to help himself, he bent down and pressed his lips to that line. The hand on her stomach drifted up to her breast, brushing soft fingertips over it.

“Even though you were upset with me earlier?” he asked in her ear, despite the voice in the back of his head telling him not to question it.

She might as well tell him a piece of it, she thought with a sigh. Otherwise, he might get suspicious. “I wanna know that we’re okay. I know sex is how you show your love.”

Dismay settled on his mouth. With his free hand, he brushed her hair further away from her neck and lighted a soft kiss there. “That may be true, but that should not be the only reason you do it. I love you. We don’t have to have sex for me to show that I love you.”

“Do you not want to?” She turned her head to look at him, and the intensity of her gaze knocked the breath right out of him.

“I would like to,” he replied quietly, nimble fingers stroking her hair. “But only if you are sure.”

She nodded. “I’m sure. I feel more secure when we’re making love.” She needed to see that gentle side of him — the side that was loving, sweet, careful, kind. She needed to know he was still in there.

“All right,” he finally agreed.

Rolling over, her hands sank beneath the duvet and she untied his yukata. She slipped it from his shoulders without hesitation — but with thoughtful, deliberate movements all the same. Beneath the covers, he shifted around until she’d removed it completely, and then she sought out his hot skin with her own body, pressing their forms together. His shaky sigh, the ripple that went through his body, wasn’t lost on her.

“Do you need me to get the handcuffs?” he asked in her ear, nuzzling against it, refraining from using teeth.

Strangely, she felt nothing when she thought about the handcuffs, when she thought about his claws. She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to use anything.” Nothing but their bodies, their hands, their mouths.

He blinked, eyes a little wider, and he gazed down at her. But she kept her head low, so all he could make out was the tip of her nose, her forehead, and her long lashes. He stroked her hair and brought a thick strand of it to his mouth. “Very well.”

“I don’t want to be kinky,” she continued, running a hand over his chest, his torso, eliciting that same ripple in the wake of her touch. “Please be sweet and gentle with me.”

She was still hurt, he realized. And this wasn’t sex to satisfy a carnal need, but sex to soothe wounds, to comfort. “All right,” he said just above a whisper, nuzzling against her temple. He swept his hands over her sides, her back, her ass. Each touch was slow and brushed circles over her body, and he relished the milky softness of her skin. “Would you like me to go down on you?”

She shook her head. “No.” Slipping her arms under his, she held him by the backs of the shoulders, half burying her face in his collarbone. “Let’s just lie like this for a while.”

That confirmed it — she wasn’t after pleasure, he thought. Perhaps neither one of them needed to chase an orgasm tonight. “Then would you like me to touch you?” After a beat, he quickly tacked on, “We can still hold each other like this.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Okay, and I’ll touch you too.”

Swallowing hard, he shifted close to her, trapping their body heat between them, the energy they exchanged soft and mellow and muted instead of electrified. Poor Nanami, he thought, lightly running his palms over her form, mapping out every curve, every flattened plane, every ridge of bone. Right now, he took the time to become reacquainted with her body, having missed out on touching her for so long. He paid attention to every inch he could reach, caressing her skin, following his fingertips with his lips.

Careful hands trailed over her throat to her collarbone and her shoulders, and she tilted her chin up as his warm, wet mouth found her pulse. Even if this wasn’t about turning each other on, it helped to feel that way, for his lips to elicit a spark that went straight between her legs. This felt comfortable, familiar, safe. And she wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of blankets, naked and entangled in her, to keep him docile and by her side until the end of time.

Her hands wandered over the hardened muscles twitching beneath his skin. She traced featherlight touches along his chest — his sternum, his collarbone, his ribs. Closing her eyes, she breathed shallowly through an open mouth, goosebumps prickling her skin at the sensation of his breath playing against her throat, his exhalations heavy by her ear. One of his hands fell at her hip, his thumb rubbing over the hollow of it, sending a small shiver through her. In response, she pressed her hips to his, and she felt his chest expand with a hitch of his breath, the outline of his ribs all the more prominent over the dance of her fingertips.

Experimentally, she brushed her forefinger over his nipple, and then she leaned in closer, following it with a wet kiss. His hand had drifted to caress her ass, palm gliding over the cheeks in large circles. His other hand found her hair, working long fingers through it, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. Beneath the sheets, she felt his erection growing, the hot, hard flesh pressed against her clit. This was so intimate, she thought, a tiny moan catching in her throat, listening to his breaths coming heavier. She mouthed at his chest and his collarbone, brushing a thumb back and forth over his nipple, enjoying how it hardened under her touch.

Unconsciously, she began to rub her hips against his, the rhythm slow, minimal. The sensation of his erection stimulating her clit had her heart beating faster, and she tilted her head back against the pillow, a long, soft moan escaping her. His hips began to twitch in return, and his hand stilled at her back, holding her and pressing her close.

For several painful minutes, they rocked against each other, basking in grinding together without penetration. It felt good, but Tomoe couldn’t help but ache for more. He placed a hand under her thigh and started to drape it over his hip, but she stopped stroking his chest to grab his wrist, stopping him.

“Not like this,” she whispered.

It was one of the most intimate positions, he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. Carefully, he let her leg down. “Then like what?”

In response, she rolled onto her stomach, spreading her legs. “Like this,” she told him, shooting a glance over her shoulder.

Her eyes captivated him, dragging him under and pulling him in. Tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, he nodded and then climbed on her back. “Are you sufficiently worked up?” he asked.

“I’m wet,” she replied, and sighed softly at the sensation of his kiss on her cheek.

Without another word, he settled onto her back and between her legs. He wriggled his hips to get comfortable, and then lined up with her entrance. Carefully, he guided himself into her body, a flutter of a sigh leaving him at her heat and tightness. She was wet, he thought, surprised. Slowly, he began to rock against her, bracing his arms on either side of her, being mindful to let as much of their skin come into contact as possible.

Chills rippled through her body as he started moving, and she shut her eyes, focusing on his weight on top of her. She felt safe. His breaths came deeply behind her in her ear, and she felt the humid puffs of them against her temple. Every little sound that caught in his throat — the moans, the minuscule hitches of breath, the whispers of her name — ingrained itself in her memory. He loved her. Perhaps anyone could have sex — with or without feelings — but it was times like these, when she was beneath him, that she could feel the depth of his affection towards her. No one else could’ve made her feel like he could.

Eyes half shut, he kissed her temple and the side of her hair, his heart beating faster. Despite her reasons for doing it, despite the fact that the goal wasn’t simply to have an orgasm, he couldn’t help the waves of pleasure that crashed inside of him. She felt so good, he thought, soft moans muffled behind closed lips. He shut his eyes then, breathing in her scent, focusing on her tightness surrounding him, the curve of her ass fitting so perfectly against his hip bones and waist.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he murmured in her ear.

A moment of hesitation as she considered it. Although it would feel good, she preferred being closed in by his arms, feeling like he held and protected her. “No,” she whispered, “this feels good.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” He kissed her temple.

She wanted to be held, he inwardly acknowledged, and he pressed himself closer to her, aware of every shiver, every shift of her body beneath his. Slowing his movements, he focused on working her deeply, in increasing the intimacy between their union. That seemed to be the trick, because her breaths fell a little harder, and she began to roll her hips in time with his. He noticed how she applied more pressure against her front, and recognized with a small smile that she was grinding her clit against the futon.

“If you want to touch yourself, you can,” he said, nuzzling into her hair.

Despite it feeling good, Nanami was too emotional. Instead of saying anything, she shut her eyes and shook her head, then half buried her face in the pillow, hiding behind her hair. Her fists closed in on themselves, nails digging into her palms, her eyes stinging. She didn’t want it to be like this; she didn’t want to cry. She focused on taking even, quiet breaths, parting her lips and struggling to compose herself. The last thing she wanted was for Tomoe to pick up on it.

Her body felt tense. And that wasn’t the only sign. Perhaps to her, she was breathing quietly, but he could hear the shudder in it, the premature way she cut off her inhalations, the resonance of her breathing through her mouth. And then he smelled it — the hint of salt.

Pausing, he brushed her hair from her face, but she shut her eyes and turned her head. That was the dead giveaway. “Nanami,” he said, his voice softer then. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to get her attention, but she wouldn’t look at him. With a small sigh, he asked, “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head vigorously, burying her mouth and nose in her arm, still breathing through her mouth. If she could’ve thought of how to explain it to him, she would’ve — but she didn’t even know how she felt.

‘What is wrong?” Tomoe hovered over to her other side, again brushing her hair from her face, pushing her bangs back. He held a hand to her forehead.

This was so embarrassing, she thought, hiding in her arm. Instead of replying, she only shook her head again. The lump in her throat was too tight.

In case she was collecting herself, he gave her a moment. But she continued to hide in her arm, and no amount of stroking her hair or trying to coax her out of hiding worked. With a sigh, he decided it was time to stop. Clearly, she wasn’t in the state of mind to do this. Planting his hands on the futon, he began to lift his body from hers.

Before it registered what she was doing, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, tightening around it. He hesitated, his chest only inches above her back, erection still embedded inside her. “Don’t,” she said softly.

“Don’t what?” Tomoe’s brow furrowed.

“Please don’t go,” she mumbled, blinking a bit.

“You are upset,” he said. “I think it would be better if we talked.” When she didn’t respond, he kissed the top of her head. “We can finish after we talk.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, staring down at the pillow. “I don’t even know why I feel this way.”

It shouldn’t take a genius to figure that one out, he thought with a long sigh. Clearly, she had chosen denial. Slowly, he withdrew from her despite her whine. “You are still upset that our viewpoints are different.” Resting his cheek in his palm, he tried to catch her eye, but she continued to stare down at the pillow. “I am sure you are hurting because it has shattered your view of me. To you, it seems immoral. Is that not true?”

Finally, she flicked a glance up at him, face flushed. After a moment of looking into his eyes, she decided to be honest. “Yeah… I don’t wanna think about you like that. Because if I do, then things might change, and I don’t want them to.”

Tomoe exhaled slowly. Earlier, she’d promised him that this wouldn’t ruin their relationship, but now she expressed similar fears. “Things will not change that drastically,” he tried to assure her. “I can promise you that I do not view life as cavalier. Nor do I pick fights with just anyone. Haven’t I shown you that? In my tolerance of Mizuki’s hostility? In my dealings with Ookuninushi and Ikusagami? Never mind Akura, when he was masquerading as Kirihito. I never harmed them, did I?”

Nanami shook her head, swallowing with difficulty. That was right. Tomoe only fought when he had to, and he didn’t tend to challenge those weaker than him. Perhaps he’d argued with those he didn’t get along with, but he’d never attempted to kill them. How could she allow herself to think ugly thoughts, even if only for a moment? She hung her head in shame, hair falling in her face.

Seeing that she had nothing to say, Tomoe allowed the silence to hang between them for a few minutes. She continued to say nothing, avoiding his gaze. Eventually, he spoke again, softening his approach. “Nanami, my love.” This drew her hesitant eyes to him. “What is on your mind? If you are upset or angry, then say so. I can handle it.”

Nanami’s eyes misted over, her throat tight. “I’m ashamed of myself,” she whispered. “I said that everything would be fine, but… Here I am, still thinking about it.”

He placed a hand on her back, rubbing it gently, his brow furrowing. “I knew you would,” he said, massaging her spine between her shoulders. “At the very least, I knew you would worry. You always do.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry I have upset you, my love. Indeed, you have seen the wild yokai in me, but you have also seen the god in me. I am no stranger to weighing consequences and morality. You do not have to believe me to be right; simply know that I have not taken this lightly.”

He wasn’t the type to take anything lightly, she thought, a shaky, humorless laugh leaving her. Sure, he could be impulsive, and he could let his temper get the best of him, but in the grand scheme of things, he’d always had reasons for the choices he made. “I know,” she said. “I guess it just scares me. We talked so much about free will and morality, and how you punish people by giving them a chance to choose the wrong path. So this sudden change of heart was scary to see. And…I thought that if I didn’t stop it, then maybe I was a bad person, because I hadn’t tried hard enough.”

“Mm, I see.” His hand drifted to her side, which he caressed. “You would be the last person I would consider bad. If anything, I would say you are too self-sacrificing. It is not a crime to defend yourself when you are being harmed. After all, is your life worth less than another’s?”

When he put it that way, she felt small, uncomfortable. It shouldn’t have made her instinctively resist, words of protest dying in her mouth. Because he had a point — she was a living being like everyone on this earth, so why should she sacrifice her life just because someone else wanted it? At the same time, however, something about it felt so selfish.

A small groan left her. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t need to say a word,” he replied. “Simply accept that you are so very precious to me, and to many others too. Of course I am going to value you first and foremost, because you are my wife and my priority. I would do anything to keep you safe and happy.”

She peeked up at his eyes, finding them soft, filled with regret. He really didn’t want to hurt her, she thought, feeling sorry for him. And perhaps this really was an extenuating circumstance — she just hated to think that she could be the reason behind it.

“I don’t want to be the reason someone loses their life,” she said quietly.

“You are not. Ultimately, he is the one who has made his choice,” Tomoe said evenly. “You have been innocent throughout all of this; the blood is not on your hands, but on his.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off and swallowed hard. It was so difficult to believe. But when Tomoe spoke to her so gently, when he touched her so delicately, she found it hard to disagree.

For several minutes, they were both quiet, the silence only broken by her occasional sigh as she came down from her upset. The whole time, he lay by her side, gingerly stroking her hair, his eyes on the top of her head — but she wouldn’t look at him directly. Eventually, she curled up against his chest. With her lying so close to him, he laid himself down to the futon, resting his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. He continued to play with her hair, already settling down to sleep since it seemed she was done talking or interacting with him beyond a half snuggle.

Realizing he’d grown quiet, she laid a hand against his chest and peered up at him. He’d shut his eyes, expression placid and calm, his long lashes dusting against his cheekbones. If his fingers hadn’t continuously slipped through her hair, she might’ve thought he was asleep. She tilted her head up and kissed his chin, pressing her body closer. As their hips brushed, she noticed he wasn’t as hard as before — but he still had a half-erection. She wondered if they could finish.

Before asking him, she took a moment to think about what she wanted. He’d been concerned about her succumbing to him in such a vulnerable way when she was emotionally compromised, but it wasn’t like she couldn’t choose for herself. She remained close to him, absorbing his body heat, studying his features. He was painfully beautiful, she thought, lightly touching a long strand of his hair, moving it over his shoulder. Delicate fingertips crept up from his shoulder to his face, and she studied him with her touch, following his jaw until she reached the corner of his mouth. Her touch lingered there for a moment, but he didn’t react.

Slowly, she shifted up his body, interrupting his hair stroking routine. And she did something she’d desperately wanted to do for a while. Taking his head in her hands, she leaned over and pressed her lips to one of his ears. She felt him freeze, hesitant, but he didn’t complain, so she kissed him again. She drew her lips down the edge until she reached the base, and she buried her mouth in the softer fur there, kissing him again and again. At the same time, her hands slipped up to the sides of his head, fingertips sinking into that velveteen fur, massaging the base of his ears. Finally, she felt his body relax and a sigh pulled from him, warm and humid against her chest.

Something about his ears comforted her, and she found herself relaxing as well. She buried her face deeper in his hair, in his fur, breathing in his scent and kissing him. The more she massaged that place where his ears met his scalp, the deeper his breaths grew. She continued until his hand fell on her waist just above her hip, the touch subtle yet longing.

She was turning him on, he thought, heart thumping in his ears. His ears were sensitive, and the way she mouthed at them, the way she touched them and his scalp, sent tingles of pleasure through his body, flooding him with all those feel-good sensations. Mouth falling open, he panted shallowly against her collarbone, swallowing back the urge to moan. It was both disappointing and alleviating when she stopped.

Not wanting to work him up to an uncomfortable point, she shifted down his body and snuggled up against him again, wrapping an arm around his waist. For a moment, they were silent. She waited until he’d resumed petting her hair before she said anything. “Did you want to finish?” She brushed her leg against his, kissing his shoulder.

His ears perked up and he tried not to look overly eager, though his heart beat fast at the mere suggestion. “All right.”

This time, she rolled onto her back, not in the mood for anything else. She was sure they were both tired, and this position was a classic for a reason — it was incredibly intimate. “I think I’m still wet…”

She thought. He bit back a sigh, wondering at this flimsy invitation. But her eyes beckoned him, so he crawled between her parted legs and settled on top of her. “Do you want me to work you up or touch you?”

“No, I just want you to hold me,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“All right.” Returning the favor, he encircled an arm around her head, only pausing long enough to guide himself inside of her. She was still wet from their earlier failed session, and it was easy to sink into her body. A small sigh left him and he shut his eyes, bringing his other arm up to cradle her head. Slowly, he began to roll his hips.

Not caring whether she came or not, she nuzzled against his shoulder and hid in his body, slipping one arm further down to hold him around the waist. Her hand splayed out over his back, basking in the warmth of his skin, and she drew her touches up and down his spine. Above her, his breaths quickened, and she buried her face in the hot skin at the base of his throat, hugging him tighter.

All that playing she’d done with his ears had worked him up more than he’d realized. That plus interrupting their previous encounter had him panting, heart hammering in his chest. He was aware she wasn’t making a sound, instead rubbing his back, but he couldn’t help himself — it had been offered to him, and it felt good. Still, he decided to check in.

“What do you want?” he asked between panted breaths.

Squeezing him, Nanami smiled. “To be under you,” was all she said.

He swallowed hard and then cradled her closer, lifting her head in a palm to press her closer to his shoulder, fingers tangling in the long strands of her hair. “I want to pleasure you. I want you to feel good.” He opened his eyes, staring down at the top of her head. “What would make you feel good right now?”

That wasn’t necessarily what she was after, but if it would make him happy, she wouldn’t turn him down. “I like it when you let me rub myself on your dick…” she said softly.

Wordlessly, he shifted further up her pelvis so the base of his erection pressed against her clit. He continued to hold her face close to his shoulder, working his hips more firmly, grinding against her clit. Finally, her breaths deepened and airy moans caught in her throat. Gasping, he cradled her head in his palm and rolled his hips in small circles, massaging her clit with his body.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, though by the tremors through her body, the hardening of her nipples, he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” she murmured, nuzzling against his throat. Closing her eyes, she focused on his weight on top of her, of the delicious sensation between her legs. Gradually, the tension and upset from earlier that evening began to melt away as her body sank into the futon, feeling heavy and light all at once.

“Good,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head. He focused on working her with slow, deep movements, applying pressure where it was needed, holding her close and securely.

Despite herself, she soon found she was whimpering and moaning small, breathless ahs, the stimulation making her wetter, allowing him to drive in deeper. And she had to admit — it felt ridiculously good to have a man on top of her, inside her. She tightened around him, a shiver rippling through her at the sensation. The sound of his quiet moan, the rigidity of his body as he stiffened over her, added to the pleasure.

For several minutes, they indulged in this rhythm, not once changing it up. They held each other, working their hips, whispers of moans and heavy breaths passing between them. His lips found the top of her hair while her mouth ghosted over his collarbone. Fingers tangled in long hair and hands ran in sensual touches over bare skin. And though it was slow burning, it was by no means slow — that shared peak was coming quickly, fueled by the tension they so badly needed to release.

Nanami squeezed her eyes shut, half-humming, half-moaning into his shoulder. By now, he rolled his hips with more speed, hitting her just where she needed it. She dug her nails into his shoulder blades, pressing her mouth closer to his bones, whimpers muffled by the solidity of his body. Her knees shook on either side of his hips, and their arms tightened around each other.

“I am going to come,” he whispered to her, deciding to warn her as that heat pooled in his midst, tightening. That was the downside to being a man, he thought with a half sigh. Her emotions had dampened her libido, but he needed this release desperately.

“That’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back, kissing the base of his throat. “Go ahead.”

As much as he wanted to hold on for her sake, he couldn’t. He rolled his hips several more times, that pleasure tightening to a peak, making it harder to breathe. And then his whole body stiffened, a moan pulled from him, as it finally burst. He rocked against her much harder and faster, pressing her against his body as he came. With each wave, his body jolted, until the moment passed.

Sighing, he eased her head back to the pillow, shifting his arm to rest above it. His lips found the sensitive patch of skin just below her earlobe, and he continued with shallow half-thrusts, angling his movements to stimulate her clit. As her moans turned to barely audible cries, her chest heaving beneath him and her head tossing to the side, he felt a swell of confidence. Nipping lightly on that patch of skin, he grinded against her clit with the base of his erection a little harder, a little slower. Now, she returned that pressure, tilting her hips up to meet his, rubbing herself against him. Deciding to heighten her pleasure before he lost his erection, he bit down on a roll of skin and sucked on it, fingers pulling through her hair and claws grazing the sensitive spots on her scalp.

Although she hadn’t thought it’d be possible to recover her pleasure, to have an orgasm tonight, she found herself taking that back. He was the god of sensuality — of course he’d make her come. Tiny cries escaped her with each rock of her hips, her focus on his erection between her legs, penetrating her. That focus split the moment he sucked on her skin, and those two additional stimulants pushed her closer to the edge.

For a couple of minutes, she could only whimper and pant, her movements turning to frantic thrusts, all but humping him. His mouth migrated over her throat, sucking on other sensitive spots, and he continued to press his hips to hers. That tension wound up like a toy just below her navel, and then that surface tingle rose over her skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, she arched up and then the tension snapped, a rush of relief shuddering through her body with each delicious pulse. He continued to roll his hips, to rub her clit, to suck on her throat until she went limp beneath him. And then he followed her, releasing her neck and touching tiny kisses to the side of her face.

A large exhale wracked her chest and she let an arm drop on the pillow above her head. He continued to roll his hips against hers in barely-there movements, more out of affection than anything else. He had lost most of his erection, and was close to slipping from her body at this rate. 

“Do you feel better?” he finally murmured.

To this, she nodded, her eyes gritty, heavy. “Yeah, a lot better.” Forcing one eye open, she gazed up at him. “Do you feel better?”

He leaned over, a strand of his hair falling against her cheek and making her flinch. Brushing his lips to her forehead, he murmured, “Yes.”

She trailed a hand over his chest and his stomach, then lower, lighting her fingertips where their pelvises met. Now that the heat was gone, it wasn’t meant to be anything more than an affectionate touch, and she brushed her fingers against the base of his half-erection, against her clit. For a moment, she touched that union experimentally, then trailed her fingers further, tracing her stretched folds and his exposed girth.

Her touch made him shiver, feeling oversensitive, but he allowed it, watching her face. Now, her fingertips stroked through that wetness they’d created — both hers and his. It was both sweet and erotic at the same time, and Tomoe wished she’d done this earlier in their encounter, because he would’ve found it to be such a turn on.

Eventually, he caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her wrist, the heel of her hand, her palm. He made his way up to her fingertips and he brushed his lips over them, tasting her, tasting himself. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see her face flushing, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You are curious, hm?” He nipped at one of her fingers. “We can always have sex in front of a mirror again so you can watch.”

A giggle caught in her throat and she blushed deeper. “Maybe later,” she said, pulling her hand from his. Her expression grew softer, more affectionate. “I’m not really upset anymore.”

He grinned, his fangs showing. “Good. I am not upset either.”

Despite the fact he’d just tasted himself on her fingers, Nanami leaned up and touched her lips to his. He relaxed almost instantly, and returned her kiss, gentle hands falling on her back. The kiss remained light, sweet, chaste. And then they parted, eyes half-shut and hazy.

“I think I’ll be able to sleep now,” she said, stifling a yawn.

He bumped her nose with his own. “Good. First, allow me to clean you, and then we will sleep.”

Somehow, that devious sparkle in his eyes made her wonder how he intended to clean her. But she chose not to question it. Instead, she shimmied out from under him and grabbed her yukata, squeaking as something wet trickled down her thigh. She didn’t have to worry about it for long. His hands fell on her hips and he bent between her knees. A warm, soothing tongue ran up the inside of her thigh, cleaning her, ending with a flick at her entrance. Face burning, she pushed him away, but he just smirked at her, licking his lips, eyes glittering.

“You just licked your own cum!” she gasped.

“I don’t care.” He pressed a kiss to her hip, slow and sweet. “I made the mess, so why should I not clean it up?”

“You want to clean me that way?” she squeaked.

Hugging her around the hips, Tomoe smirked up at her, his tail swishing. “Why don’t you try it before you decide it is not for you?”

Her face flushed, and she glanced towards the door. His tail swayed back and forth, slow and sensual, and she couldn’t help but think about the things he could do with his mouth. How could sweet, gentle sex for the sake of comfort lead to her body burning for him? She supposed this was what happened when one married the god of sensuality.

“Okay,” she said in a whisper.

His tongue flicked out over his lips again. “Good. Time for round two,” he purred. Standing tall, he snagged his own yukata from the bed and draped it over himself. Then, he offered his hand. “Let us take this to the bathroom. I would be more than happy to wash you after you are clean.”

Her face burned, but she wrapped herself in her yukata and took his hand anyway, her heart thumping at the prospect of more pleasure. Wordlessly, she followed Tomoe, tiptoeing down the hall to the bathroom lest she wake someone up. Silence encompassed the shrine, assuring her that they hadn’t disturbed anyone so far.

As soon as they were in the bathroom, the door closed, Tomoe swept her off her feet. She started to squeak in surprise, clearly unable to catch herself in time. Since this could get loud, he drew a barrier around them, ensuring that no one would be privy to their intimacy. Then, he laid her on the floor, on her back. Eagerly, he dropped to his knees and then settled himself on his stomach. Parting her yukata, pushing it up to her hips, he began by peppering kisses over her pelvis, making his way lower and lower.

Even with the barrier, Nanami couldn’t help but clap her hands over her mouth to stifle any noises she might make, self-conscious since this was a small, shared bathroom. Containing herself would be difficult when Tomoe’s mouth sucked on the tender skin of her thighs, his fangs nipping at the tendons there at the junction of her thighs and her pelvis. Just that in itself had her quivering, though she hadn’t thought she could get worked up again this quickly.

She wondered what made eating himself out of her so appealing. Not just to him, but to her too. That thought soon flew out of her head as his breath played over her sensitive skin, teasing her clit. His hands drifted to the insides of her thighs, parting them wider, then slid beneath them to support them, holding her where he wanted her. Her eyes widened as his eyelids fell shut and he swiped his tongue from deep within her thighs up to her clit.

She was already so sensitive from what they’d done earlier, and that made her legs tremble in his hold. A spark of pleasure rippled through her, and he settled further between her legs. His tongue swiped over her folds and her clit in long, luxurious strokes, the wet heat of it making her gasp into her palms. She wove her fingers more tightly together, swallowing hard, breaths audible in the small room.

It was clear she hadn’t understood why he liked doing this, but Tomoe was sure she’d grasp it soon — because hearing her gasp into her hands and feeling her tendons and muscles tighten up and quiver from the tension made it all worth it. For several minutes, he focused on dragging his tongue over all those sensitive spots, maintaining a consistent rhythm. It was best to keep her frustrated, so he continued to tongue her from her entrance to her clit, until her legs twitched and her whimpers grew desperate. Tightening his grip on her thighs, he finally sealed his mouth over her firmly, kissing and licking every last part of her.

Her heart beat out of her chest and she wondered vaguely if he could hear it. A glance down at his head showed no indication of that, though; he seemed fixated on her entrance and clit. That warm tongue swept firmly over all her hot spots, working her more quickly. Her back arched up off the floor, hips undulating in his hold, as the tip of his tongue massaged her entrance before drawing a figure eight around her clit. Her breaths grew heavier as he continued this attention to her clit, her hands finding the hair by his ears and sinking her fingers into it.

Listening to her breaths, he thought to himself — good, she enjoyed it. Her legs slid up over his shoulders with his assistance, and he supported her with his hands. He drove his tongue into her again, pressing hard licks against her opening, alternating between that and sucking her folds. His own taste filled his senses but he continued to work her clean, pleased with himself. She only smelled and tasted of him.

It grew increasingly difficult not to vocalize. No longer able to watch him because the visuals added to her pleasure, she squeezed her eyes shut and held his head close. Her hands trembled in his hair and she rolled her hips up against his face. In response, he pushed closer, his breaths noisy and muffled from where his nose pressed against her skin. She whimpered as his tongue drew firmer patterns around her clit, her pleasure rising.

Her thighs twitched uncontrollably. Tomoe could feel the involuntary flicker of her muscles by his cheeks, filling him with secondhand pleasure. Once again, he drove his tongue into her as deeply as possible, and finished by sucking her folds. This time, he paid more attention to her folds, her labia, the fragile skin of her thighs. He sucked every last inch of skin exposed to him, leaving her squirming beneath him, digging her nails into the base of his ears. Instead of complaining, he took it up a notch, sucking her folds up to her clit. When he drew that suction around her clit, it was sloppy and loud, pulling a shaken giggle from her and a whispered ‘shh’. He smirked against her pelvis and resumed sucking on her until she forgot the transgression.

It was easy to dismiss when he resumed the intensity of his attention. She tugged at his hair and her heels came down on his back, scrambling for some sort of hold. Each suck, each swipe of his tongue, sent a hotter shock up her spine. Her clit was so stimulated, and her toes twitched, body flinching at the contact. He tongued her again, leaving her humming and tossing her head, body rolling beneath him. Her heart thundered in her ears as her stifled whimpers increased, the pleasure mounting. Another suck, and she nearly lost it, choking on her spit. His tongue drew another series of figure eights around her clit, starting with wide motions and tightening them until the edges of his tongue brushed the sides of her clit — and she couldn’t stand it anymore.

All but kicking, she shoved against his mouth, rocking against him and attempting to ride his face. He pinned her down, holding her thighs still, applying suction to her clit with a sloppy kiss, lips wrapped around it, head bobbing with her movements. Her spine went rigid and her mouth fell open in a silent moan; her body jerked with each powerful wave of her orgasm, suspended and quivering between the floor and his shoulders.

The moment passed and she dropped to the floor, eyes falling shut, her head spinning. His mouth was at her thighs again, languidly tasting them, and she exhaled in a stream of air. That was enough.

Before he could dive in again, she sat up and pulled her legs from his shoulders, pushing him away. “Okay, you ate yourself out of me,” she mumbled, blushing.

He sat as well, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Did you not enjoy it?”

She glanced at him, still blushing. “I did enjoy it,” she admitted. “I like it when you penetrate me with your tongue.” It was hot, she thought. Not so much that he tasted himself, but that he worked her up like that.

Lying on his stomach and swishing his tail, eyes half shut and a smirk on his face, he purred his response. “I love to taste you. I could spend all night eating you.”

Her face flamed and she giggled. “Well, you’re very good at it.” A pause, and they only looked at each other, Tomoe retaining that self-satisfied smirk on his face. A small pout formed on her lips. “Um, I need to actually clean up now. So can you go?”

“You do not want me to wash you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Humming, she turned her head away. “I’m worried we won’t ever go to bed if you do.”

A small laugh escaped him and he got to his feet, tightening the tie around his yukata. “Mmm, very well, I will be in bed shortly, waiting for you.” He stuck the tip of his tongue out at her, eyes glittering and mischievous and playful.

She flushed, not tearing her eyes from his until he did so first, and then he shut the door behind him. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little, shaking his head. It was so easy to fluster her. But he supposed that she did need to rest. After all, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

While she showered, he decided to step out onto the veranda for some fresh air, hoping it would help cool his body and steady his heart. Stepping out, he breathed in deeply, appreciating the crisp air which kissed his skin. Ah, that was what he needed.

He’d just settled down, packing and lighting his pipe to smoke, when the snap of a nearby twig made his ears twitch. He whipped his head in the direction of the sound, finding a pair of golden eyes glowing through the darkness and the silhouettes of the trees. Akura-Ou.

“What are you doing loitering about?” Tomoe asked, an edge of annoyance to his tone.

“I’m not loitering,” Akura replied. “I came to talk to you. You don’t mind, do you?”

Akura wouldn’t have cared if he did mind, Tomoe thought with a heaved sigh. However, given their recent alliance and the reason that they fought together, he eased his barrier around the shrine, allowing Akura to enter without creating a disturbance. Right away, Akura took the silent invitation, skulking closer to the veranda, sticking to the shadows to hide himself from any would-be onlookers.

“What do you wish to talk about?” Tomoe asked, keeping his voice low.

“I need some help,” Akura growled, and Tomoe could tell that he didn’t like admitting it. Still, given how easily he had spoken up meant that it had to concern Nanami.

“Help with what?” Tomoe queried, touching the pipe’s mouthpiece to his lips.

“I need you to do a little research for me. You can find it faster than I can.” Here, a smirk spread over Akura’s face. “Besides, you can go to Takamagahara now, can’t you? That means you have access to all sorts of information.”

“Mm, yes, to some degree,” Tomoe said slowly, wary.

“I’ve been digging through the libraries in the mononoke world, and I found a few books which mentioned that a door to Yomi could be created,” Akura explained. “None of ‘em said how to do it, though. I think that kind of information might only be available to the gods.”

At this, Tomoe’s ears pricked up, and he sat up straighter. “I am certain it is there, but I cannot say if I have the clearance—”

“So what? That never stopped you before.” Akura snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me that you’ve given up on this. Or that you won’t take what you want.”

A scoff escaped Tomoe, his ears slicking backwards. “Of course I have not given up! I was simply stating a fact.” His tail swayed, and he took a drag from his pipe, releasing the smoke slowly. “It would surely be unwise for me to request such materials as myself—”

“Then fuckin’ go as Ookuninushi or something!” Akura retorted before Tomoe could offer the same idea. “You have direct access to his energy. You know what it looks like. And with your skills as a god of deceit, it shouldn’t be that hard for you to fool the other gods.”

Tomoe went slack jawed, eyes half lidded. “That was what I was going to suggest.”

“Then get on it!” Akura pressed, as impatient as ever.

A sigh pulled from Tomoe, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between a finger and a thumb. “It is not so simple. If I wish to convince anyone that I am Ookuninushi, I will have to go in the morning—”

“Why wait until then? Your disguises are damn good,” Akura argued, his brow furrowing.

Although ordinarily Tomoe would’ve been irritated with Akura’s behavior, right now he could understand his frustration and impatience. A frown creased his brow. “A good disguise and god powers do little when one cannot act the part. Do you not recall how easily I figured out you were the one possessing Nanami’s body?”

A pout pursed Akura’s lips, and he grunted, but didn’t reply with words.

Continuing, Tomoe said, “Ookuninushi is infamous for his womanizing ways. He would not miss his nightly activities for research — especially when it involves Yomi. After all, he could easily call his grandmother and she could handle anything he needs to do in the underworld.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Akura growled through his teeth. A punctuated exhale left him. “Damn it. I hate wasting time.”

“Trust me, I am just as frustrated as you are, but some things cannot be barged into right away. Think of it as biding our time rather than wasting it.” Tomoe took another drag from his pipe, frowning deeper in thought. “I must come up with a plan — a believable reason for Ookuninushi to request such documents. Perhaps I can request other documents as well, to hide what I am truly looking for. But I need time to figure it out.” Here, he grimaced. “Besides, I must not alert Nanami to what I am doing. If I were to go now, she would surely sense something was amiss and stop me.”

Again, Akura cursed, but given that he didn’t necessarily protest, Tomoe knew that he’d convinced him not to react in a foolhardy manner. Still, Akura pressed against the boundaries as much as he could. “Tell me when you’re going. ‘Cause I want to get on this as soon as possible.”

“As do I.” Tomoe stole a moment’s thought by drawing smoke into his mouth, holding it for a few beats. Carefully, he blew it out in a steady stream, doing so to calm himself. “I do not know if it would be wise to waltz in wearing his face and request documents straight away. Perhaps it is best if I carry out reconnaissance first, just so I know how to build a believable story.” His eyes snapped up to Akura’s as he anticipated what the other would say — that they should simply break in and take what they want. “We do not want all of heaven and earth against us, Akura. We are capable of escaping many situations, but I know from experience how futile fighting against an army of gods can be. This must be done delicately.”

A growl rumbled in Akura’s throat. “Fine, do whatever you want. But don’t think I’m going to idly stand by the sidelines.”

“Oh, I would not expect such a thing from you.” Tomoe gazed up at him evenly. “Continue your own research. Much can be missed when one is in a hurry. In the meantime, I will look into what I can when I have the opportunities to do so. I will send you a message when I have found something worth looking into.”

With a huff, Akura turned, but he only took a few steps forward before he cast a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t take too long,” he said gruffly. Then, just like that, he slipped into the shadows and vanished from sight.

Chapter Text

It took a few days for Tomoe to carry out the plan he and Akura had concocted. Between poking around the library in Takamagahara to finding the right time to slip out whenever Nanami was away and the others were occupied, it wasn’t easy to gain access to the research he needed. But, eventually, his patience paid off. Masquerading as Ookuninushi opened up wing after wing of the library, allowing him to access the deepest troves, to pore over the most forbidden of tomes. Best of all, the blind trust that the librarians had in him made it easy for him to dig through whatever he wanted to his heart’s content. No asking for clearance. No waiting on the librarians to bring him the materials. At the end of the day, no one was the wiser to what he’d been reading and copying down.

Once he’d had everything he’d needed, he had immediately descended and sent Akura a message. He’d asked for Akura to meet him in the seedier side of the mononoke world, in one of the inns that rented rooms by the hour. They couldn’t be seen together lest he risk his own execution — and Nanami being caught in the crossfire — so he disguised his appearance, masquerading as a tanuki woman. The entire way to the mononoke world, he remained on high alert.

Akura had given him the address and the room number over a coded message in case they were intercepted. It was lucky they had come up with this way of communicating long ago — at Tomoe’s insistence of course — because otherwise he would’ve been far more anxious about this meeting. Instead, he maintained an air of calm as he walked into the inn and let the hostess know he had been hired to meet someone in one of the rooms. She let him through, and he walked down the long hallway, sandals clacking on the lacquered wooden floors, scanning the plates by the doors until he found the correct one.

Pausing before the door, he drew in a deep breath and then pushed it open. It may as well be suicide meeting like this, he thought. But protecting Nanami was worth the risk. Hurriedly, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him. His eyes met Akura’s. Of course the oni was fooled as well.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Tomoe rolled his eyes. Before he released his transformation spell, he flicked his fan and a blue, soundproof barrier closed in around them. In a poof of smoke, he resumed his natural appearance, letting his eyes fall shut and running his long fingers through his hair to rid it of the tangles. “I would think you would recognize me by now.”

Akura’s shoulders relaxed, and then he barked a laugh. “Sheesh, Tomoe, you’re too good at that. Even your energy is different.”

A smirk spread across Tomoe’s face, his eyes half-lidded and menacing. “And my scent too,” he said with a wider grin. Stepping into the room, he flicked his fan open. “But that is beside the point. I don’t have much time. We both risk death being here.”

“Maybe you do,” Akura grumbled. “They can’t kill me.”

Tomoe declined to say that it was true. The thought set him a little more on edge, and he hesitated, side eyeing the demon king. Could he really trust him? It’d be the perfect opportunity for him to exact revenge. He didn’t have a choice. Akura was the only one who could do this.

Clenching his teeth, he lowered himself to a cushion across from the other. Their eyes locked and Akura spoke again. “What? Don’t look so damn suspicious. I’m not going to attack you.” He guffawed. “I need you right now as much as you need me. That’s how we’ll trust each other.”

Here, Tomoe nodded, his jaw setting. It didn’t matter whether Akura’s feelings for Nanami were romantic or not. What mattered was that he could manipulate him based on those feelings. 

“Very well. Then we have no choice but to trust each other.” Tomoe fanned himself slowly, willing his heart to calm down. His once brother was his enemy now, and yet here they were. “I have indeed found a method of creating a door to Yomi. If we work together, I do not believe it will be that difficult.”

Akura perked up, sitting a little straighter. “Yeah? Why do you say that? If it was so damn easy, everyone would be going to Yomi.”

“Hmm, one would think.” Tomoe hid behind his fan as though concealing his hand of cards. He blinked slowly, pupils narrow slits, eyes locked with Akura’s fiery golden gaze. “It is not so simple for ordinary yokai, but we are hardly ordinary, are we?”

A tense smirk stretched Akura’s mouth, showcasing all his sharp teeth. “True. So what do we need to do?” He stretched out his legs, planting his palms on the floor.

“In most cases, the best way to create the doorway is by using soil from Yomi to create a stone mirror,” Tomoe explained. “Since we do not have soil from Yomi, we will have to replicate it another way.” He reached into the front of his kimono, pulling out a paper, which he then offered to Akura. “This is a list of the supplies we will need. I am under surveillance so I cannot very well go searching for these myself.” Tomoe studied the other’s stare, unblinking. “Perhaps you can find each of the items.”

Another bark of a laugh left Akura. “So you’re sending me on a wild goose chase, huh? This better not be a trick.”

“Why would it be?” Tomoe’s tail flicked. “Just because I am the god of deceit does not mean I wish to deceive others. You know me well, brother. I have always been upfront with you, even five hundred years ago when you claim I betrayed you. It was not that I hid it.”

A moment passed, during which time Akura broke eye contact, humming in thought, his gaze wandering around the room. Finally, he nodded. “That’s true.” He shifted his gaze back to Tomoe’s. “All right, so what’s your plan? You said you were being watched. How are you gonna help if we both have to create the door?”

Here, Tomoe’s smirk grew behind his fan, his eyes glittering deviously and his tail swishing back and forth in slow, undulating movements. “I am a god. According to my research, I will be able to allow you through — and allow you to go undetected on your own.”

“How’s that gonna work? You had to come with me last time,” Akura huffed. “No, I better get some more of that herb stuff that Yatori used.”

“Herb ‘stuff’?” Tomoe frowned. Although he was familiar with plants that could be used to mask one’s scent and energy signature, he wasn’t sure exactly which one Akura referred to. It didn’t matter which one he used, though — Akura’s plan was full of holes. “That will not work against Izanami.” Tomoe clacked his fan shut, pointing it at Akura. “With my plan, you will not need to hide yourself as you wander through Yomi and hope for the best. I plan to create a door straight through to that liminal space between the underworlds. Now that we know where Rekka is, I believe I can do it. Or at least get damn close.”

Blinking, Akura-Ou stared at his face for a moment. And then a wicked smirk spread across his mouth, showing all his teeth. “Ha! That’s crafty. I like it.” His smile softened, eyes wide, and he rubbed his chin. “You were always the smart one, Tomoe.”

He’d had to be, Tomoe thought, but declined to say it. Instead, he hummed again. “Here is my thought: the first step is for you to search for the supplies, after which you are to send me another message.” He tapped his fan to his lips. “The second step is for you to find a suitable place to build the door. It must be somewhere we will not be disturbed, a place that is hidden from human, demon, and godly eyes.” He locked his gaze with Akura’s. “Do you believe you can pull that off?”

“Yeah, leave it to me,” Akura said, smirking again. “I’ve already done a lot of my own research, so I think I can find a good spot.”

Somehow, it made Tomoe’s stomach flip to think of entrusting such a vital task to Akura, but he wasn’t able to do it himself, not when everyone was so on edge about his whereabouts. “All right, then those are your two tasks for now.”

“Sounds good.” Akura-Ou hummed and then his eyes half lidded, smile still playing on his lips. “So what comes after that?”

“After that is obvious,” Tomoe said with a grimace. “I will give you a charm so you can return through the same door in case it closes prematurely. You go through the door, dispose of Rekka — quickly, might I add — and then come back. Once it is done, we destroy the door and scatter the items we used to build it.” He breathed in deeply. “This must all be done very fast.”

“Fast, got it. You know how quickly I can kill.” Akura showed his teeth again, cracking the knuckles on each hand.

“I know. But I also know it will be difficult for you not to torture him. I feel the same way about Rekka.” Tomoe’s gaze grew cool, and he tapped his fan to his lips. “We cannot let anyone find out what we are looking for, which is why it must be done with discretion. I know that is not your forte, since you like to barge in thoughtlessly, but we cannot afford to make mistakes here.”

A pout pursed Akura’s lips. “Sheesh, Tomoe, no need to lecture me. I’ve learned a thing or two since we last hung out.” He rolled his eyes. “How do you think I flew under the radar so long as Kirihito?”

Tomoe’s muscles relaxed. That was also true. A long stream of breath left him. “All right, then I will trust you with this mission.” He inhaled again, audibly. “As for me, I will put some distance between myself and Mikage so as not to arouse suspicions. Are you able to trust me too?”

“For now, yeah.” Akura’s expression hardened. “This is for Nanami.”

“For Nanami,” Tomoe echoed, nodding.

Their eyes locked, and no more words passed them, but a mutual understanding hung in the air. After this temporary truce, they would be enemies again. And, judging by the bloodthirsty gleam in Akura’s eyes, he still aimed to take Nanami from him — and kill him in the process.

—

Since Tomoe was flooded with work and Nanami felt too raw to be separated from him for long, they had returned to his shrine for a while — at his vehement insistence. It had been non-negotiable, he’d said. So for a day, they’d gone back. However, after Nanami got off work on Friday, she found Mizuki already waiting for her. A brief exchange revealed Mikage wanted to talk, so she texted Tomoe to let him know that plans had changed and she needed to go by Mikage shrine before coming home. She’d already started walking when she received a response from him asking if she planned to stay the night — and she realized he wasn’t thrilled with this development. Of course he wasn’t, she thought with a little cringe; she’d hardly been at his shrine before running off again.

Even so, she went with Mizuki back to Mikage shrine, wondering what could be so urgent that he’d ask to see her at the last minute. Mizuki didn’t seem to have any idea what it was about, which she found a little odd. As she came to the top of the steps, she spotted Mikage sitting on the veranda, waiting for them. They exchanged a wave and a smile, and then Nanami approached.

“Hello, Nanami-san,” Mikage said with a soft smile. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she said, shifting her bag on her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to Mizuki, who just shrugged.

“Mizuki, would you mind giving us some privacy?” Mikage asked.

At this, Mizuki’s eyes widened a bit, but he nodded all the same. “Sure.” He smiled. “Why don’t I make some dinner?”

Nanami opened her mouth to say they needed to go back to Tomoe, but Mikage had already nodded his assent, and Mizuki disappeared into the shrine, shutting the door behind him. With a defeated sigh, Nanami sat on the edge of the veranda by the other god. “What’s going on?” she asked, a little worried that he hadn’t wanted to say it in front of Mizuki.

The smile faded from Mikage’s face, something more serious furrowing his brow. “I’ve been worried about you and Tomoe,” he admitted. “You’ve had to word bind him several times to keep him in line, and now that the two of you have gone back to his shrine, I can’t watch him as easily.” He frowned slightly. “I’m concerned he might do something that gets him in trouble.”

A sigh left Nanami, her spirits plummeting. “I know. I’m still worried about that too. Like, yeah, I word bound him, but he found a way around it before.”

“Yes, and he could stil find an unconventional way of enacting revenge.” Mikage removed his glasses, cleaning them with a cloth he’d plucked from his kimono. “That’s why I think it would be best to explore our other options too. Tomoe said that you and he have talked about binding your memories. He and I talked about it too, and I think it may be the only way to stop Rekka without defying the gods.”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it,” Nanami said softly, her heart sinking. “Even right after it happened… But I told him I didn’t want to forget the things he’d done for me. It was horrible but the two of us bonded because of it.”

“So you’re worried you’ll lose that bond?” Mikage asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“Yeah, I am.” Here, she smiled sadly, lacing her fingers together tightly in her lap. “It hurt me a lot, but Tomoe and I have learned so much from it. We wouldn’t be the people we are today without it. I don’t want to take my life or him or anything for granted, and I’m scared that if I forget, if I’m not strong enough to overcome my fears, then I’ll lose everything. I’ve worked so hard…”

Mikage’s expression softened, and he laid a hand on Nanami’s shoulder. “You have worked very hard,” he agreed. “It doesn’t mean that it was all for nothing, or that you’re giving up. I hope you don’t feel that way.”

“Maybe a little,” she said, just above a whisper, her eyes on her clasped hands. “My whole life, everything’s been a struggle. But it’s never been so bad that I couldn’t overcome it. I don’t know… I think it’s prepared me for this — to be a good god.”

“I believed you were a worthy god even without going through this. If you think about it, I had no idea this was your fate when I met you,” Mikage pointed out. “Trauma and hardships… They don’t make a person virtuous. Virtue and strength are already core to your personality. I don’t think that would change at all.”

She had gone through some harrowing times before Jigoku, she inwardly acknowledged, swinging one leg. Even if Mikage told her that strength was already a part of her character, she couldn’t help but find a little bit of comfort in keeping what was already familiar to her. “Thanks,” she said quietly, her head still bowed. “It’s just hard to let go of something like this. I felt like I’d come so far… And maybe that’s just because I’ve spent months and months fighting it. I guess…we won’t know what it’ll be like if that had never happened or if I forgot unless we try it.”

“Nanami-san…” Mikage hummed in thought, and she finally looked up at him. Seeing his smile took her aback, but something about it was reassuring too. “I truly believe you and Tomoe would have fallen for each other even without this incident. As a god of matchmaking, I am certain of it. You are both very compatible with each other. So even if you forget what he’s done for you, it won’t change your appreciation for him. That’s just the kind of person you are.”

Nanami peered up at him, sheepish. “You have so much faith in me…”

“Because I have seen what you’re capable of,” Mikage pointed out. “I say these things not to push you into accepting it as a solution, but because I believe it’s what’s best. Hopefully, it would stop Rekka from draining you.” 

“You really think so, huh?” Nanami sighed, her gaze drifting out into the yard, into the darkness that had settled over the shrine grounds.

“Yes. A lot of spirits use memories or mental weakness to harm humans. Rekka wouldn’t be the first nor will he be the last.” Mikage shifted, and Nanami flicked a glance up at his face, noticing the creases in his brow. “Rekka is one of those demons who was created from energy and intent instead of birth. It was human suffering that brought him into existence. He gains his power through suffering. And that’s why he can drain your energy.”

Here, Nanami nodded, almost robotic. This was what Tomoe had been pushing for since day one, but she still had her reservations about it. And now that she and Mikage were talking seriously about it, all sorts of possibilities swarmed in her mind. If Mikage wanted her to forget, did that mean he wanted her to forget everything?

Her breath hitched. How could she forget how Tomoe had supported and cared for her? What Mizuki had done for her? Her reunion with her mother? It had been such a pivotal time — not just in her life, but in all their relationships with each other. Maybe there had been so many bad things that had come from it, but it had also given her a family. It had been in Yomi that she realized the lengths Tomoe would go to for her — and that she loved him. She still wondered if forgetting would cheapen that.

Seeing she hadn’t responded yet, Mikage gave her something else to think about. “Neither you nor I want to kill him. If we don’t kill him, then this is the only solution I can think of. If Tomoe can’t break your energetic contract, then there really is no choice.”

Akura-Ou couldn’t break it either, Nanami realized, her heart sinking. Both Tomoe and Akura had contracts with her, had access to the deepest parts of her, and yet they hadn’t been able to do a thing. “Why can’t any of you do it? Break the connection?” she asked, meeting Mikage’s gaze.

“Because we aren’t part of the contract,” Mikage said with a sad smile. “When a contract is created — whether both parties agree or it was forced on one — the only people that can break it are the ones who have the contract.”

“So it’s not like the familiar contract, huh?” Nanami asked, thoughts drifting to ways that a familiar contract could be broken, even if it wasn’t desired.

“It’s not.”

Nanami sighed. She swung her legs over the edge of the veranda, eyes dropping to the grass. This was a lot to think about. Of course she’d had months to consider it already, but just like with everything else, she’d put it off. It was a big decision.  

With trepidation, she asked, “Do you think you can keep some of my memories of that time intact? I still want to remember what Tomoe and Mizuki did for me.”

Mikage replied, “It would be best for you to forget Jigoku entirely. It should be all right for us to tell you that you went to Jigoku and that Tomoe and Mizuki helped you, but you should forget the incident itself.”

“What about my time in Yomi? And the trial?” Nanami asked, gripping the edge of the veranda. “Mikage-san, so much of my life since then has been about this stupid incident. I don’t want to forget it all.” To think of erasing the last several months was so upsetting she could hardly breathe. It wasn’t just about what Tomoe and Mizuki had done for her — it was about the trips, her connection with Tomoe, the bonding of their family, her abilities as a god, even what she had learned in school. She couldn’t lose all of it.

Sensing her impending panic, Mikage quickly assuaged her worries. “No, the only thing I want to remove is the attack itself — and what you witnessed in Jigoku,” he explained. “That and the visions Rekka implanted in your mind. It wouldn’t be right to block out everything you’ve experienced.”

At this, Nanami’s shoulders relaxed; she felt it was far more reasonable. “So I’d still remember my time in Yomi?” She twisted a piece of her hair, flicking her gaze from Mikage’s to her lap and back again. “It’s really important that I remember that. Not just because of Tomoe and Mizuki, but because I got to see my mom again—” Here, she cut herself off, a lump coming to her throat. She couldn’t continue.

Expression softening, Mikage laid a gentle hand on the back of her shoulder. “Of course you’ll remember that. Don’t fret. You’ll remember the things that are important to you — including what Tomoe did for you. You just won’t have an eyewitness account of the attack. That’s all.”

“So I’ll know what happened, I just won’t have memories of it?” Nanami asked, voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

“Exactly,” Mikage said, letting his hand drop. “Does it sound like something you can live with?”

At this, Nanami exhaled shakily. “It sounds better than forgetting everything.”

“Right, and don’t forget this is good for Tomoe too.” He frowned lightly. “If Rekka can no longer hurt you, then he’ll have no reason to keep pursuing Rekka. I’m sure he’ll still want to kill him, but it’ll be much easier to reason with him.”

At this, Nanami sat up a little straighter. No matter how nervous this situation made her, if she had a chance to placate Tomoe enough to where he wouldn’t put himself in danger, then she’d take it. It wasn’t like she was losing as much as she’d thought anyway.  

“Okay,” she said with a shuddering sigh. “I’ll do it. Just tell me what I have to do and what I should expect.”

As she stared him down so seriously, Mikage smiled wanly, almost sheepish. “That is quite the sudden change of heart, Nanami-san.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to protect Tomoe, then I’ll do it.” She exhaled in a rush. “Besides, you said I won’t forget my mother or my bond with everyone. If you can do something like that, there’s no reason to say no, is there?”

“True.” Here, Mikage grew solemn, and he pushed his glasses up. “There’s just one thing I’ll warn you about — for the sake of transparency. It might have some effects on your memory, but only for a few days. At the maximum, it would be a week or two.”

Nanami froze. “What kind of effects?”

Mikage met her gaze, expression grim. “You have to understand, targeting specific memories to seal instead of binding everything from a point of time onward is very tricky. I can do it, but it’s possible your mind will need some time to recover. It’s hard to explain, but think of it like a bookcase where you’ve removed a few books from the middle. Then you move the other books instead of leaving the gap.”

Nanami tilted her head, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, once you’ve moved the books, you still remember where they were before. It takes you longer to find your books, and it takes a few times of going back to the bookcase before you remember where you moved them to. You might even forget you got rid of some of the books and look for those too,” he explained.

“I think I get it, but I also don’t?” Nanami laughed, swinging her legs.

“What I’m trying to say is — you might struggle to remember anything directly before the incident as well as anything after the incident. It’s also possible after we’ve bound your memories that you’ll wake up like the last seven to eight months haven’t happened at all.” As Nanami’s eyes grew huge and her breath hitched, Mikage quickly finished. “But those effects are temporary. It’s only because your memories have been moved around and stitched back together. Your mind will adjust.”

This was such a rollercoaster, Nanami thought with a shuddering sigh. To think of losing her memories spanning half a year, even temporarily, was unnerving. “So if I do this and I lose my memories for a week, what will I do about school?” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I can’t keep calling out sick. I’m worried I won’t be able to catch up and graduate on time.”

“That’s an unfortunate possibility,” Mikage said, frowning. “But once you get this problem taken care of, then you won’t have those sorts of absences anymore. It’s a short-term problem and I’m sure your friends will help you catch up.”

He was right, Nanami realized. Now that Akura had gotten his body back and was no longer chasing after her for her help, then Rekka was the last obstacle. Maybe she’d finally get to live a life in relative peace, she thought, her eyes widening. To think of that normalcy just in reach had her heart beating faster.

“Then…I’ll just have to do my best,” she said, her gaze on Mikage, determination furrowing her brow.

“Very well.” Mikage watched her evenly. “We should probably go through with it tonight. It’s a weekend so it’ll buy you some time to recover, and Rekka’s out of commission after what Tomoe did. We shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

Here, Nanami nodded. “Okay, let’s do it tonight.”

“All right. You should call Tomoe and have him come over,” Mikage said, getting to his feet. “Let’s eat first and then we’ll take care of the rest.”

Nodding, Nanami got to her feet as well. “Thanks, Mikage-san.” She beamed up at him.

“Of course.” Mikage returned her smile, then retreated into the shrine.

Although her heart beat faster and her stomach fluttered at the thought of finally going through with this, there was also something inside her that felt lighter, like the weight had been lifted from her chest. She flipped open her phone and pressed the button to call Tomoe. For the first time in a while, she dared to be hopeful about recovering.

Chapter Text

Initially, Tomoe had bristled when Nanami launched onto him that she was at Mikage shrine, and would potentially be spending the night. It had been the one thing he’d told her was non-negotiable. But then she’d explained why, and he hadn’t hesitated to pack bags for them both and go straight to her side. It was such a relief that she’d accepted the idea and that she’d let Mikage bind her memories — but even if it did work, he wouldn’t retract his plan to kill Rekka. The demon deserved to die.

Although Mikage, Mizuki, and Nanami seemed to be in good spirits over dinner, there was an undercurrent of nervousness from Nanami. It was only her clumsiness that gave it away — how she kept dropping food, how she nearly knocked her cup over, how she fumbled with her napkin. And Tomoe was glad he’d come to support her, especially once Mikage had explained she might lose her memories temporarily. She’d need all the help she could get.

After dinner, they all sat in the main living area, the TV on a low volume. A certain heaviness hung in the air, this unspoken thing, and all conversation faded to silence. Nanami kept her eyes on her lap, hands clammy and closed in on themselves, her heart thumping much too hard. Her stomach felt like cardboard, crawling inside itself, and she finally sought out Tomoe’s hand. From the corner of her eye, she caught him turning his head to look at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she clutched his hand and he held on a little tighter too.

It was Mikage who broke the silence, clearing his throat. “Nanami-san, are you ready for me to bind your memories?”

Her heart rate increased to the point she was panting softly, and she laced her fingers with Tomoe’s. “I guess,” she said with a shaky laugh. After a brief pause, she added, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, but I am.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Mikage assured her. “It won’t hurt and it’s not scary.”

“Will I be unconscious?” Nanami asked, eyes wide.

At this, Mikage’s lips flickered into a smile. “No. Not at all.”

“Am I gonna forget everything instantly?” she asked. “Like… Am I gonna forget the last eight months just like that?”

“It’s possible,” Mikage admitted. “If that happens, we’ll work through it. All right?”

She nodded and drew in a deep breath. Her hands shook and she kept her hold on Tomoe’s hand. “Okay,” she said with a feeble smile. She could be brave, she told herself. At least it wouldn’t hurt. After another moment, the tension making it harder to breathe, she said, “I’m ready.”

Mikage rose, and Nanami watched him come closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mizuki’s gaze following Mikage — and then settle on her. She glanced at him and they exchanged a smile, Mizuki’s bright and reassuring and comforting. Between that and Tomoe’s calm, stable presence, she felt better.

“Nanami-san, I’m afraid you can’t touch anyone else while I do this. I don’t want to accidentally affect them too,” Mikage said, kneeling before her.

Shooting an anxious glance at Tomoe, Nanami released his hand. “Don’t go,” she whispered to him.

“Why would I leave?” Tomoe’s ears pricked up in alarm. “It is all right, Nanami. I am here. I will not go anywhere.” He shifted as close as he could get to Nanami without disrupting Mikage. “It will be over before you know it.”

“Okay,” Nanami whispered, then forced herself to break eye contact with him. Drawing in a deep breath, she shifted her gaze to Mikage.

The other god took her head in his hands, holding the sides of it. His touch was cooling, soothing, and Nanami found herself sighing as relaxation washed over her. A soft, golden glow grew around them, and she felt cleansed and comforted, like a thousand butterflies caressed her skin. She’d thought this experience would’ve forced her back into those shadows, to confront the darkness one last time, to see everything spilled out before her in a singular flash -- but it contained none of those things.

The light surrounded her, gentle and all encompassing, holding her and blotting out the rest of her surroundings. A part of her felt sleepy, but with a satisfying sense of accomplishment instead of exhaustion. That ticklish, fluttering feeling passed into her skull, making her flinch, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Warmth washed over her like the lapping of easy waves in a calm sea, letting her float and bob on the surface without fear of slipping under. It was like she could touch the bottom for the first time, a bottom that wasn’t rough or coarse or jagged or slippery. She could sink into it but it held her, that sturdiness assuring her that she was safe now.

The golden light grew brighter, and soft pastels broke through. Something rose in her skull, and the sensation was like delicate bubbles which pulled from her temples and drifted away on the breeze. There was another sensation -- like being wrapped in blankets to form a cozy cocoon -- that replaced those bubbles. It pulled a sigh from her, and her muscles relaxed so deeply she felt weak. She hadn’t realized how tense, how tired, how strained she’d felt until now.

As she blinked, what looked to be thin strings came into view. At first, they were like silken spiderwebs pulled taut, fading away into the light, angled in every direction. After a moment, she realized that those spiderwebs were attached to her, connecting her to some unforeseen end. They grew clearer and clearer until she found they weren’t spiderwebs at all, but cords of grey-black energy, so thin she could hardly make them out. With each popping sensation of the bubbles, a thread snapped and went slack until there were none left. They seemed to withdraw into her body then, disappearing in a flash of golden light.

Another wave of deep, relaxing warmth. This one was far larger than the others. It washed fully over her, making her feel like she was underwater, drifting with a current. Before she could grow anxious, it pushed her along and she found herself surfacing, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in ages. Gradually, the light around her faded out and the shrine came back into focus. As her eyes adjusted, she blinked the black and purple dots from her vision. Then, she flicked her gaze around the room.

Mikage sat back. “Well, how do you feel, Nanami-san?”

She blinked again, taking a moment to focus on it, to think about it until she could pinpoint it. “Kind of fuzzy in the head,” she admitted. It felt like someone had stuffed her brain with cotton. She couldn’t remember what had occupied that space before. It was on the tip of her tongue, beating to get out, but it faded away further and further as the seconds ticked by. “I feel like I’m trying to remember something, but I can’t. Like when you wake up from a dream.”

“Ah, then it’s working,” Mikage said, breathing a sigh of relief. “What else?”

“What do you want me to say?” she asked, confused.

“How else do you feel?” Mikage clarified.

“Relaxed and really sleepy,” she said with a faint smile. “It feels nice, though. I can’t remember the last time I felt this calm and peaceful.” All her worries had faded away. Well, the worst ones anyway. She still worried about the smaller things, like school and work. But she couldn’t even remember what was bigger than that.

“Do you remember anything about the incident at all?” Mikage asked, and Nanami had a feeling he was vague on purpose.

Here, she gazed at him blankly, searching her mind. Incident? She stared at him for a moment and then shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Jigoku,” Mikage prompted. Again, she stared at him and shook her head. “I see. So you don’t remember Rekka or Yomi?”

She blinked. “I remember going to Yomi last year when Ookuninushi asked me to go. And I remember Izanami.” She frowned a bit, tapping a forefinger against her lips. It still felt like something was just on the other side of that cotton sensation, but she couldn’t access it. “I don’t know anyone named Rekka.”

“Hmm, I see.” Mikage paused, brow furrowed, contemplative. Then: “But you do remember this past year, don’t you?”

“That’s really vague,” Nanami said with a laugh. That cotton sensation expanded in her skull, like a big, fluffy cloud. “Of course I remember stuff from this year.”

“Like?” Mikage prompted again.

She sat still for a moment, blinking. It took a lot of effort for her to dredge the memories up, and they were blurred around the edges, difficult to see clearly. “We went to the god summit a few weeks ago. And I remember going to Hokkaido. Oh — and I met Akura-Ou.” Here, she hummed. “So much has happened.”

A sigh of relief left Mikage. “It looks like you might be all right,” he said. “I tried to be very careful. There’s no guarantee it won’t affect your other memories, but this is a good sign.”

She nodded, staring out into space, distant. It was hard to focus on the conversation. She felt like she kept shifting in and out, like she tried to follow a thread and kept dropping it. Maybe she needed to sleep. “I think I should take a shower and go to bed,” she said suddenly. “I’m really tired and I’m having a hard time focusing.”

“That’s okay,” Mikage said. “I’m not surprised you feel that way. Your mind is processing and adjusting to the new placement of your memories. You’ll be quite tired after all that.”

“Yeah.” She smiled faintly. Then, she stood, glancing over at Mizuki and then Tomoe. “I won’t be long,” she told them.

Tomoe gazed up at her, brow furrowing, eyes regarding her tenderly. “Will you be all right on your own?”

A blush spread across her cheeks as he asked that question. If he insinuated that he should bathe with her, she had to brush him off, too drained to get frisky if things went in that direction. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She offered another smile. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t faint in the shower or anything.”

Although Tomoe hesitated to leave her by herself, he wouldn’t push the issue if she didn’t want to strip naked in front of him. This was a fragile time period, and they needed to observe her and see what happened. “All right. I will be in your room,” he said, getting to his feet. “Call me if you need anything.”

She shut her eyes and smiled warmly at him, pressing her palms together. “Okay, thank you! You’re very sweet.” With that, she turned and slipped into the other room.

No one said a word until her footsteps faded away to the bathroom and the door shut. Only then did they all release a collective sigh. Mizuki spoke first. “Do you really think it’s a good sign?”

“Seems to be,” Mikage assured him, glancing towards the doorway. “It doesn’t mean we’re out of the dark yet, but she didn’t forget everything instantly, so we might get lucky.”

“Is there anything we can do to make it easier if she does forget?” Mizuki asked, concern furrowing his brow, his emerald eyes wider. “I’m not talking about work or school, because Hisoka and I have that covered. I’m talking about anything around the shrine.” He paused, glancing at Tomoe. “Actually, I’m mostly talking about Tomoe.”

“What about me?” Tomoe asked, stiffening.

Mizuki turned a sincere gaze to him. “Think about it. If she does forget the last eight months, that puts her back at, what, April? End of March? That’s before you guys really got close.” Here, his eyes half lidded and a tiny smirk flickered over his lips. “That’s when she was still kinda scared of you.”

A huff left Tomoe and his ears flicked back. “No, she was not. She stopped being afraid of me fairly quickly.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mizuki frowned. “I seem to remember a few incidents.”

Tomoe huffed. “It is true that I took her by surprise a few times, but I would not say she was afraid of me during that time. You must remember that she had the gall to slap me.”

“Oh, well, never mind, then,” Mizuki muttered. Tilting his head, Tomoe frowned, wondering if he picked up on disappointment.

Instead of addressing it, Tomoe said, “Well, we have already established that it is temporary. I will take care of her as I have been doing. She will be fine.”

Mikage nodded. “Indeed she will. Even if she were to revert and forget most of her time with you, I think she’d see very quickly that you’re kind to her. She wouldn’t be afraid long.” Here, he paused to meet Tomoe’s eyes. “That being said, be careful with her over the next twenty-four hours. If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen in that timeframe.”

“Of course I will be careful with her,” Tomoe grumbled, frowning deeper. “I am always careful with her.”

A sigh escaped Mikage. “All right, then I’ll be upfront.” He shifted, something uncomfortable flickering over his face. “You shouldn’t have marital relations with her during this timeframe.”

“What—?” Tomoe began, puzzled.

Mikage didn’t let him finish. “If she lost her memory in the middle of that, it could be disorienting for her. She can’t consent in that situation. She might even find it traumatizing.”

Tomoe’s eyes widened and he cupped a hand over his mouth. That hadn’t crossed his mind — he hadn’t even thought of bedding her tonight — but he shuddered to think of how he might’ve reacted if Nanami had propositioned him after her shower. He didn’t even want to think of the implications, or what Nanami might perceive it to be if she forgot everything. “Understood. I will abstain.”

“Good.” Mikage’s shoulders dropped. “Now that that’s taken care of, what do you say we all have a drink? I think we’ve earned it.”

“No complaints here,” Mizuki said with a grin. He stood and pressed his palms together, smiling brightly. “Why don’t I get the sake? You two make yourselves comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

—

Nanami had hoped that taking a shower would’ve helped, but she still found herself shifting in and out of focus, like a radio signal that was just about out of range. Her head didn’t necessarily hurt, but it felt foggy and fuzzy, and she found herself growing groggy and confused. Going to sleep was the right call, she thought as she left the bathroom, having finished drying her hair and getting ready for bed. Maybe after some rest she’d be back to normal.

Opening the door to her room, she found Tomoe had already curled up on top of her futon. His eyes followed her as she came closer. “Are you going to take a bath? The bathroom’s free,” she said.

“I took one this morning,” he mumbled. “I will do it tomorrow.” Truthfully, he was too worried about her to even think about that. Her eyes looked dull, glazed over. Perhaps she was only tired, but he wasn’t taking chances. As she lifted the covers and tucked herself in, he met her eyes and asked, “Do you want me to share your bed?”

Her brow furrowed and she rolled over on her side to face him. “Yeah, why?”

“Mikage said to be careful for the next twenty-four hours,” he explained, resting his cheek in a palm, elbow on the futon. He reached out with his free hand, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “He thought it might be upsetting for you on the off chance you lost your memories.”

“Maybe,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the futon. She didn’t want to admit that was a possibility, but she didn’t feel one hundred percent, and that cotton sensation had grown and grown. It was getting harder to think, to hang onto her memories of the recent past. Perhaps he had a point. “Maybe we should have separate futons just in case? It would only have to be for tonight, and you could pull yours next to mine.” She offered him a little smile.

At least he hadn’t had to make that decision, he thought. “All right, that is probably for the best.” He rose and found the extra futon that lay folded up by the wall, and took a few minutes to prepare it. He felt her eyes on him as he did so. “By the way, how are you feeling?”

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she wondered why he asked. “I’m okay. I still have that fuzzy feeling in my head and it’s hard to focus.” She paused, wondering if she really was losing her recent memories. She felt like something had happened earlier that had made her angry at him, but she couldn’t recall what it had been. At the same time, since she only went off the tingle of a hunch, she couldn’t say whether it was real or if she’d dreamed it.

“You have not lost any memories?” he prodded, pulling the futon closer to Nanami’s.

Watching as Tomoe peeled back the duvet and slipped into his bed, Nanami bit her lip and wondered if she should mention it. After all, how was she supposed to know? “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’d realize if I forgot something.”

“That is fair,” he said with a hum. He rolled over to face her, his eyes locking with hers. “Well, you seem all right. It does not seem like you have forgotten any of the major events, so that is all that matters.”

“I sure hope I remember what’s going on in school,” she muttered, sullen. “The worst thing would be if I went in on Monday and was totally lost.”

A tiny smile flickered over his lips, and he reached out to touch her hand. “If that happens, we will help you. Remember, it is only temporary. It might not even happen at all.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Her expression morphed into a smile. For a moment, they didn’t say anything, instead staring into each other’s eyes. Nanami slipped her hand into Tomoe’s and laced their fingers together, enjoying the warmth of his touch. Then, she spoke again in whispered tones. “I wish we could cuddle.”

His gaze softened. “We can if you wish to.”

They shouldn’t, she thought, but snuggling with him was one of her favorite parts of the day. “Maybe just for a little while?”

“Yes, of course.” Cuddling seemed harmless enough, and if they remained in separate futons, it wasn’t so bad.

The first thing Nanami did was click off the light. Then, she scooted closer to him. Wordlessly, she turned with her back to him, inviting him to spoon her. His warmth melted against her form, and she sighed in contentment as his arm wrapped around her. Placing a hand over his, she shut her eyes, burrowing deeper in the covers. “I love you.”

Tomoe couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling against the back of her shoulder. “I love you too.”

“Good night,” she said, stroking gentle fingertips over his hand.

In murmured tones, lips brushing over the back of her shoulder, he echoed the sentiment. “Good night.”

They fell silent, snuggled together in the darkness, their hands idly stroking each other. It was difficult to stay awake when her eyes felt so heavy, and she couldn’t fight it for long. Within a few minutes, between the comfort of the blankets and the heat of his body, she succumbed to her exhaustion and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

As soon as Tomoe heard her breathing deepen, he bit back a sigh. That hadn’t lasted long. Although he wanted nothing more than to keep snuggling her and sleep spooning her like he was so used to doing, he knew better. Gifting her a final soft, sweet kiss on the cheek, he squeezed her and basked in her body heat for a brief moment longer. Then, he carefully disentangled himself and shifted into his futon. To be as non-threatening as possible in case she did awaken without her memories, he rolled with his back to her, shutting his eyes and sighing. He hoped she’d be all right.

Chapter Text

Although Nanami was tired, she wasn’t able to sleep restfully throughout the night. Despite her lack of dreams, she continued to wake up, feeling like she was forgetting something important, like she needed to remember. And each time she woke up, she felt like there had been something on her mind the last time she’d awoken that she couldn’t reach anymore. It wasn’t until five o’ clock when she finally had several hours of uninterrupted sleep, her mind having calmed down enough to allow it.

Morning came, and the sun trickling in was what awoke her the final time. She blinked in the light and bit back a groan, sinking lower in her futon. A dull ache throbbed in the back of her skull like a tight rubber band. She really wanted to go back to sleep though she had the sinking feeling she wouldn’t. Something didn’t feel quite right. It left her uneasy, but she didn’t know what could be wrong. It felt like someone watched her, that an extra presence hovered in the air.

Pulling the covers over her head, she felt as though it was coming back to her now — the whole reason she was so uneasy. Yes, she’d been to Izumo recently. It took her a moment of scraping to recall what it had been for, and then her breath caught in her throat.

That was right — the gods had wanted her to sign a marital contract, and she had. Groaning, she sank even deeper under the duvet, her stomach twisting and turning. To think — she’d signed away her life so easily. Her life would change drastically, and for the worse, too.

As she lay unmoving in her bed, she wondered at the silence — and then questioned what day it was. For some reason, everything felt foggy and confusing. Slowly, she peeked out of the covers at her alarm clock, and then her eyes widened. Why hadn’t it gone off? More importantly, why hadn’t Mizuki woken her? She would be late for school.

Hurriedly, she threw the covers off and sat straight up. Just before she jumped from bed, a lump caught her peripheral vision and she glanced over to her side. Immediately, she did a double take, and then her eyes locked on a pair of white fox ears. A shriek escaped her and she scrambled backwards, hoping against all hope that she was hallucinating. Then the figure stirred, moaning quietly, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t seeing things.

Nanami’s scream cut through Tomoe’s dream state, and he fumbled around for a moment before it sank in. Immediately, he sat up, concerned. Before he could do more than turn to look at her, mouth opening to say her name, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. It hit him square in the face and his ears lowered. What the hell?

He didn’t get a chance to recover before she shouted at him. “Get out!”

She sounded terrified. But he couldn’t ask what was going on before the snap came, her word binding constricting him more violently than usual. Once again, he felt outside of himself as he sprang to his feet and left the room. His feet wouldn’t let him stop until he had stepped out onto the veranda. There, for some reason, it released him. He stood at the edge of the veranda, dazed, reeling.

“Tomoe-kun?” Mizuki’s voice called. Turning, staring with wide eyes and a sharply downturned mouth, Tomoe met Mizuki’s eyes. The other boy’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What’s going on? I heard Nanami-chan tell you to go away.” Here, his eyes half lidded and his expression grew cool. “Were you doing something horny to her?”

“No!” Tomoe said, voice raised. He paused, staring in disbelief, and then he opened his mouth to explain.

“Mizuki!” Nanami’s voice yelled from inside the shrine. “Come here!”

Tomoe watched as Mizuki’s eyes widened and his posture stiffen. Though they’d long buried the hatchet, he couldn’t help the flicker of pleasure at watching the exact same binding inflicted on the snake. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only victim. Still, he hated that Nanami called for Mizuki right after throwing him out. In the back of his mind, he had a bad feeling he knew what was going on.

Determined to find out whether she’d forgotten him or not, he took a few steps forward but the second his toe brushed the threshold of the door, a sudden yanking sensation pulled on every inch of his body, restraining him. Static electricity prickled over his skin and raised the hairs on the back of his neck just from his proximity to the doorway. No matter how many times he tried, that snap came, preventing him from going inside. With a growl, he paced back and forth, staring into the doorway and waiting for someone to let him free.

As Nanami waited for Mizuki to open the door, she glanced around the room, hugging herself, replaying what had just happened. Her heart still pounded, body encompassed in quivers. There were two futons in here. She wondered if Tomoe had found her already, the thought making her sick. The door opened, giving her no time to think about it any longer, and she flicked a shaken gaze up at Mizuki. Upon seeing him, her eyes stung with tears, and she leapt to her feet and threw her arms around him, a small sob escaping her.

“I was so scared!” she cried, grabbing onto handfuls of his clothing, clinging to them. “I woke up and he was here!”

“What?” Mizuki’s tone held an air of confusion. His hands fell at her sides.

Shaking all over, Nanami sniffed, only half aware that he gently pushed her away. That was strange. “T-Tomoe,” she stammered.

Mizuki tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah? What about Tomoe?”

Her mouth opened and closed. She supposed she hadn’t been very clear about it. “I woke up and Tomoe was here,” she said tearfully, still shaking. “I don’t know if he snuck in or how he found me or what—” She cut herself off, watching as Mizuki’s brow furrowed deeper in confusion. That was when it hit her — she’d told Tomoe to go away, and he had. Even more puzzled, she added, “Wait, I told him to leave and he did...”

“Uh…” Mizuki seemed at a loss for words — at least for the moment.

“Maybe it was a dream?” she said, blinking, her breaths returning to normal. That had to be it. She was so stressed out about this marriage that she’d had a hyper-realistic dream about it. There was no way Tomoe would’ve obeyed her if he’d really been here. With a breathless laugh, she laid a hand against her forehead and shut her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so stressed out I’m going crazy.”

When she opened her eyes, she found Mizuki still staring at her, but his expression had begun to shift. Instead of confusion, something lit up in his eyes and his face smoothed out. “Oh!” He paused, then his face fell. “Oh, no.”

“What? What do you mean oh no?” Nanami’s stomach plummeted, her chest tightening. Her hands moved up to Mizuki’s shoulders, gripping them.

“Nanami-chan, what’s the last thing you remember?” When Nanami tilted her head, blinking, he asked, “What happened yesterday?”

She paused, taking a small step back, hands dropping from Mizuki’s shoulders. That was also strange. She couldn’t quite remember the day before. There were fragments of blurry memories — the main gist of it — but she couldn’t make out exact details. “I don’t know — I went to school. I don’t really remember what day it was, so I guess I’m still waking up.” She did feel very tired, she reasoned.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Mizuki said with a soft smile. “How about this? Tell me the biggest thing you remember that happened recently.”

She shot him a glance, lips parted, one eyebrow creased. “We went to Izumo last weekend,” she began.

“Yeah?” His brow furrowed with something more like concern.

Something was up, she thought, taking in Mizuki’s expression. “Don’t you remember? The gods made me sign a marital contract,” she complained. Based on the look he gave her, she wondered if she’d dreamed that too. “R-right?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that did happen,” he confirmed.

Her shoulders relaxed. Despite not wanting to go through with the marriage, at least she wasn’t crazy. “Okay, good, because you were starting to freak me out. I thought maybe it was all in my imagination.”

“It wasn’t.” Mizuki shook his head. This time, he was the one to take Nanami’s shoulders. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” He drew in a breath and then released it slowly, locking his eyes on hers. “That’s way in the past now. It’s November—”

“What?” she shrieked, bringing her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide and her chest clenching to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Well...we had to bind some of your memories, so it looks like you got amnesia,” Mizuki said glumly, a solemn expression on his face. He lifted one hand to rub the back of his hair. “It’s okay, though. It’s temporary!”

As shocking as all that was, the thing that popped to the forefront of her mind was that it hadn’t been a dream. Tomoe had really been in her room. Another small shriek left her, muffled by her hands. “Y-you mean — I’m married already?” Her head swam, the room spinning.

“Yeah,” Mizuki said, nodding several times too many. He must’ve noticed how ghastly she felt, because he dug his nails into her shoulders, bracing her. “But it’s not bad! Tomoe-kun isn’t such a bad guy—”

“What the heck? You said he murdered people — women and children too!” She gasped, brushing his hands off her shoulders. “How can you say that?”

“I was wrong to say that—” Mizuki began, but she was already brushing past him. “Um, Nanami-chan?”

“No, no, no,” she said just above a whisper. Then, speaking a little louder, she looked over her shoulder, her entire body stiff, a nervous titter leaving her. “Never mind! I’ll go find out on my own.”

Still reeling from the news that she and Tomoe were married and she didn’t even remember it, she threw open the door, ignoring Mizuki’s pleading tone as he called her name. She was shaken beyond belief, and she needed to see for herself if this was true. No matter how much Tomoe frightened her, if he was around, she needed to know what she was up against.

As soon as she stormed into the main space, she caught sight of the open door — and the fox she assumed to be Tomoe standing just outside the threshold. Their eyes locked, and her breath caught audibly. Oh, his eyes were violet, she thought. And he was actually quite handsome. If his tail hadn’t been swishing wildly, then she might’ve even taken a moment to properly admire him. But that one gesture made her heart skip.

He seemed mad, she thought, taking a step backwards, trembling. But then why didn’t he come any closer? In the next moment, her eyes drifted back to his face, seeking answers. But what she found only made her more confused — he looked worried.

The moment she silently acknowledged him, the words blurted out of Tomoe’s mouth. “Are you all right?”

She jolted, heart leaping in her throat. He’d spoken to her and it hadn’t been unpleasant. Still wary, she took one step closer — then stopped. “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, unsure of how to respond. After all, he was the very reason that she wasn’t all right.

A sigh pulled from him. It didn’t seem like she was going to tell him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “May I come in?”

“What?” Her brow wrinkled in confusion. He’d asked permission to come in? “Why are you asking me?”

His eyes half shut. “Because you word bound me,” he said dryly. “I am stuck out here.”

She blinked, her muscles relaxing. Oh, that was right; she had that failsafe. Regardless of how powerful he was, she clearly had enough of a say to make him behave, at least. Gradually, it sank in why she’d been able to word bind him, and her thoughts raced to recall the rest of the contract. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened, her brow twitching. Did that mean they’d already slept together? To think, she’d already given away her first time — and to this man she didn’t even know. Despite him being surprisingly attractive, it made her stomach tie into knots and her throat tighten to think she didn’t remember any of it.

So many expressions crossed her face in the span of a minute. And none of them were promising. As much as Tomoe wanted to accommodate her, his patience wore thin. “I would very much like to come back inside,” he complained.

Her eyes darted around. Should she let him in? As she looked away, a small, frustrated growl came from the doorway. If she could word bind him, then perhaps it would be all right. She could always send him back outside if needed. “Okay,” she relented. “You can come inside.”

That tension around his wrists and ankles released all at once, and he breathed a sigh of relief, no longer feeling like sandbags weighed him down. “Thank you,” he grumbled, and stepped into the shrine. As he came closer, he noticed her flinch and take a step back, her wide eyes locked on him. That all but confirmed what he’d suspected.

“Nanami.” He stopped before her, resisting the urge to touch her. Instead, he kept his arms crossed. He heard her swallow hard, only looking at him in response. “You have forgotten everything, haven’t you?”

“Forgotten...what?” she asked, still a little anxious — but not as much as she’d been at first.

She had, he thought, a shuddering sigh leaving him. “The last eight months,” he muttered, his ears lowering sideways.

Eight months. Her eyes remained huge. It had been one thing to be told that it was November, but to hear it put in those terms felt like an eternity. Before she could help herself, her eyes stung and she brought her hands up over her mouth, fingertips steepled over her nose.

Seeing that look on her face tugged at something deep within his chest. His first impulse was to take a step forward, outstretching his arms to pull her into an embrace. But the way she looked at him, stiffening, told him that was a bad idea. She was in shock, he reminded himself. Mikage had warned them about this, but he hadn’t expected to feel like his ribcage had been crushed in by a single glance from her. 

Exhaling shakily, he compromised and put a hand on top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, grieved. “It is a lot to take in.”

“That’s an understatement!” she cried out, dropping her hands, balling them into fists. She watched his eyes widen, his ears flicking back as he shrank from her oncoming verbal onslaught. “I wake up after signing the contract to find that I’m already married to you! I don’t even remember a thing — like the wedding or our wedding night — and I don’t even know you!”

Wincing, he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. It stabbed him so deeply. Although he told himself it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t help it, it still hurt to hear that his wife didn’t remember a thing about him. And the look in her eyes… She might as well have told him she hated him — and meant it.

She watched as he stared at her with his ears flattened. In a fleeting moment, she thought she’d seen something wounded pass through his eyes, but now he looked at her with a frown, sullen, sulky. “Why are you giving me that face? You’d be upset too!”

What was she talking about? He blinked slowly. “What face?” he asked, stifling the frustrated sound that bubbled in his throat. A bark of a laugh left him. “Do you expect me to smile at this news? You assume I am not upset.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she complained, clenching her fists. “I can’t help it that I don’t remember.”

“I know,” he growled through his teeth, swallowing back the pang. “One can know something logically and also feel an opposing way, can they not?”

She eyed him warily. “Why are you upset?”

He stared at her, slack-jawed. Then, a deep frown furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t I be? You are acting as though I will eat you!”

“Well, I don’t know if you would or wouldn’t!” she retorted.

Stop, he told himself, grinding his teeth, she didn’t remember. It wasn’t her fault and he’d known all along this could be a possibility. He needed to be more supportive instead of fighting with her. No matter how much her words and reactions stung.

“Well, I would not,” he said, his volume dropping to a normal level.

“So, it seems like you two are getting along just great,” Mizuki called from behind them, making them jolt.

Turning to look at him, Nanami found him smiling with his hands pressed together. Her chin quivered. “I don’t understand why you’re not worried.” She blinked rapidly.

“Maybe because I know Tomoe-kun by now?” Mizuki replied. He offered a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, Nanami-chan. He won’t hurt you.”

She blinked again. The last she remembered, Mizuki had hated Tomoe, had strongly objected to this marriage all while warning her about his evils. Now he seemed to be on Tomoe’s side, his expression perfectly serene. What had happened over the last eight months?  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she choked out, overwhelmed.

“That’s okay; don’t worry about it,” Mizuki insisted. “Why don’t we relax and have a nice breakfast? Food will probably help.”

“I have to go to school—”

“It is Saturday,” Tomoe interrupted, his eyes half shut. “You don’t have school, but you do have work this afternoon.”

Her mouth twitched. “Work?”

“Yeah, you work at a confectionary shop in Candy Alley,” Mizuki told her. He tapped his chin. “Actually, now that I think about it, maybe Tomoe-kun should disguise me so I can go to work instead of you.”

“But why would we do that?” Nanami burst out. “I’ve worked retail before—”

Mizuki’s expression fell, and Nanami thought he looked like a kicked puppy. A wave of remorse washed over her. “I thought you probably needed some time to rest since you lost your memories,” Mizuki said, voice small.

Several thoughts flew through Nanami’s mind in that moment, one being she would be alone with Tomoe and another being that it was her responsibility and she wasn’t unfit for work. Before she could protest, however, a hand fell on her shoulder and she gasped, jumping. Whipping her head up, she found that Tomoe was the one who had touched her. Surprisingly, when he spoke, his tone was gentle.

“I think Mizuki ought to go in your place today. You are still disoriented.”

There was something almost soft about his gaze, the weight of which made her swallow hard. “Are you trying to get me alone?” she asked in a squeak.

“No,” he said, slipping his hand from her shoulder. Clearly, she didn’t want to be touched right now. If he thought back to their first meeting, she’d been shy about touch then too — and it made sense coming from the perspective of someone who’d been told he was cruel and would hurt her. “We will not be alone anyway. Mikage is here with us.” He paused, glancing around with narrowed eyes. “Somewhere.”

“Mikage’s back?” She leaned closer to him, momentarily forgetting her reservations. “What?”

A long sigh escaped Tomoe and he shut his eyes, laying a hand over one of them. “There is so much to explain that it would not be worth it trying to catch you up. Your memories will come back, apparently.”

So he wouldn’t even try, she thought with a pout. “Are you gonna tell me anything?”

Here, he opened an eye to look at her, hand still covering the other. “Of course. But there is too much to tell you in detail. And right now, you need rest.” He recognized the stubborn look on her face, the way she opened her mouth to complain, and he shook his head, intercepting her before she pushed for more. “Not now, Nanami. Please. Go sit in the kitchen, and I will make you some tea, and I will fix pancakes. All right?”

She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing. “Pancakes?” she finally sputtered out. This whole thing felt too bizarre for words.

“Yeah, Tomoe-kun likes cooking,” Mizuki said, beaming. “And he’s pretty good at it.”

Ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Nanami’s face, Tomoe turned to go into the kitchen. “Like I said — sit down and absorb it for a while. We do not have to talk. Just let me take care of everything.”

Stunned, Nanami nodded, the action automatic and thoughtless. She hesitated, watching him disappear into the kitchen, and then exchanged a glance with Mizuki. Mizuki only smiled brightly and nodded at her, exuding warmth and reassurance, so she reluctantly trailed after Tomoe and went to sit at the table. This was a strange day.

—

While Tomoe cooked, Nanami sat at the breakfast table, completely in shock as she watched him. During this time, he didn’t say much to her, but he did ask her what fruit she wanted and what tea she’d like. He even made her eggs the way she preferred. Although Mizuki helped with the meal, Tomoe took care of his tasks all on his own, his movements quick, smooth, and practiced. It wasn’t at all the way she’d pictured him.

When he was cooking, he seemed perfectly in his element, his shoulders relaxed, his attention on his craft. She couldn’t help but stare, watching his long, elegant fingers as he wielded chopsticks to expertly roll the eggs. Mizuki had told her he was vicious, and the gods had told her he was dangerous, but this was the very picture of domesticity. He seemed much more like a tamed pet than the wolf she’d been led to believe. And whenever their eyes met, her heart beat a little faster.

Even though she had half an hour to process this situation, she couldn’t shake herself from her daze. As lively as Mizuki, Onikiri, and Kotetsu were, she couldn’t pay attention to a thing they said. Curiously still, Mikage had yet to show his face, making her wonder if he was there at all. Worse, Tomoe planted himself right next to her, and she watched with huge eyes as he drizzled the perfect amount of syrup on her pancakes. She was absolutely speechless.

For a while, she and Tomoe sat quietly while Mizuki chattered on and on. All she could do was nod every now and then, too distracted by the glances Tomoe shot in her direction. She was grateful that Mizuki bridged the awkward gap; however, it was not to last. Because about halfway through her stack of pancakes, Mizuki had to leave to go to her job. She watched in stunned silence as Tomoe applied the transformation spell on Mizuki and then he was on his way, skipping to the front wearing her body. 

That felt so wrong, she thought, grimacing. She should’ve been the one going to work. Still, she had to admit she felt woozy and off balance, and her head hadn’t stopped hurting. She dropped her eyes to her plate, noticing out of her peripheral vision that Tomoe had sat on the cushion across from her with a fresh cup of tea.

A few minutes of stifling silence passed, and Nanami snuck a curious peek at him. His eyes were shut, his cup lifted, and it looked like he was savoring the aroma. An aura of peace surrounded him, and his nonchalance plus the sudden quiet gave her the room she needed. She wiped her sweaty palms on her yukata, finding her voice. “Um, thanks for making breakfast. That was really nice of you.”

He hadn’t expected her to speak to him, and his eyes opened, widened. “Of course,” he replied, studying her face. Even though he couldn’t completely read her, she seemed uncomfortable in another way, and he could all but see the wheels turning in her head. Perhaps she was assessing the situation anew, he thought, sipping his tea.

Despite her reservations about him, about this situation, he seemed fairly calm and collected. She began to wonder if Mizuki had been right when he’d admitted wrongdoing, because it seemed like her fears had been unfounded after all. So far, he had barely even touched her, instead keeping a respectful distance, all while catering to her needs as a human. And more than that, he’d been happy to accommodate what she liked.

Curious, glancing up at him, she plunged in. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“You may ask me anything,” he said, his gaze softening. He set his cup on the table, attention solely on her.

That look on his face made her heart twist and she shifted in her seat, struggling to maintain eye contact. He regarded her with such tenderness. It seemed like whatever he felt for her, it was some sort of fondness. At least she’d seemed to have won his favor. Relaxing, she asked, “What kind of relationship do we have with each other?”

Of all the questions she could’ve asked, he hadn’t expected it to be that one. In the past, she’d been more concerned about his murders and his rampages. Now, however, her eyes were locked on his face with a bit more confidence than before. He supposed he did exude a different sort of energy now, and the atmosphere was far more relaxed being on her home turf than in Izumo at a formal wedding ceremony.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he offered a smile. “Other than being husband and wife, we are friends, lovers, life mates.” He rested his chin in his palm, leaning his elbow on the table.

Lovers? That had her blinking, silent, sitting up straight. Being life mates was somewhat expected, but she didn’t know what to make of the rest. “What do you mean by lovers?” she finally asked. “Like...what is a lover to you?”

Interesting, he thought, studying her gaze. He wondered if this was her subconsciously opening herself to him. It wasn’t quite the way she’d reacted to him in Izumo, but then again, whether she remembered or not, she was a different person now, just like he was. Perhaps her brain was already reorganizing and cataloging her memories, and she simply wasn’t aware of them in the forefront of her mind yet.

At the risk of scaring her off or making her uncomfortable, he replied, “It is as I said. We are lovers.” He reached for the teapot and paused to refill her cup, noticing how she flicked her gaze towards the action. “We go on dates. We are physical with each other. We are in love.”

Her eyes widened. “In love?” She gaped at him as he passed her the cup. It was a good thing she hadn’t been holding it when he’d spoken, because she would’ve surely dropped it. “We have a love marriage?”

“Yes,” he replied, resuming his previous position, watching her sip her tea, her eyes larger and darker than usual. “I will not delve into the details since you will remember it soon enough, but I am not the fox the gods said I was. Nor am I the same fox you met eight months ago.” He tilted his head, eyes softening again. “I have learned a lot.”

The way he spoke to her was so gentle, so kind, that Nanami couldn’t help but swallow hard, her heart reacting in harder beats. He wasn’t at all the way the gods had said he was. There was this energy to him that felt trustworthy and comforting, even nurturing. 

“Oh, it seems like it,” she admitted. A moment of silence passed, and then she thought about what he’d said about them being physical. Her face burned, hands shaking around her cup, and she wondered if that meant they had an active sex life instead of the one and done deal she’d agreed to at the time of signing the contract. Deciding to soften it, she asked, “What do you mean by we’re physical?”

Recalling the bashful Nanami from months ago drew a twitch of a smile over his lips. Poor Nanami, he thought. She’d get over it soon enough. “We do everything normal couples do,” he began, watching her eyes for any sign he should stop talking. “We cuddle. We kiss. We have sex.”

Here, she nearly spat out her tea, but managed to swallow it — albeit down the wrong pipe. Coughing, she brought a napkin to her mouth and watched him, shoulders shaking and the effort bringing tears to the corners of her eyes. When the moment finally passed, she squeaked, “What?”

He shook his head and sighed. “There is no need to be so worked up over it,” he said, eyes half shutting. “It is normal for a married couple.”

Before she could censor herself, she blurted out, “But I only planned to do it once and then let you go to brothels and stuff.”

This drew a side-eye from him, his brow furrowing, his lip curled slightly. This was news to him. “Is that so?”

Realizing what she’d said, her eyes widened. “Oh, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you or anything!” She waved her hands frantically. “That was just ‘cause I thought you weren’t a nice person, but actually, you’ve been very nice to me!”

He hummed, his tail flicking in choppy, snapped movements. Even though he’d planned similarly, now that he’d fallen in love with her, it drew a pang to his chest to think about. “I should have known, I suppose.”

Another awkward silence passed. Nanami’s face felt warm, and she kept flicking her gaze to Tomoe, watching his tail, noticing how his ears laid back against his head and he frowned down at the surface of the table, sullen. “Sorry,” she said again, tone meek. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

There was no sense in talking about it, he thought. She’d be back to normal soon enough and none of this would even matter. The fact she showed some consideration for his feelings was enough for now. “I will get over it.”

At least he was honest and took it in stride. His reaction set her more at ease, assuring her that she really could talk to him. Another moment passed, and he kept his eyes on the table; she kept her eyes on him. Finally, she asked, “Um, how often do we get...physical?” She touched the tabletop with a forefinger, tracing tight, imaginary patterns.

“There is no way to quantify it,” he murmured, meeting her eyes. “But lately it has been often.”

“Often?” Her lips ghosted the rim of her cup, but she didn’t drink yet. If his response shocked her, she didn’t want to spew her tea all over the table.

“Hmm.” He frowned, though his tail slowed and his ears lifted. “It depends on what we have going on, which is why I say we cannot quantify it. Sometimes the average is once every two weeks. Sometimes it is every night. It depends.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he told her every night. But she supposed that made sense given how he’d been known to frequent brothels, likely accustomed to sex on demand. “Oh.” A short pause. Then: “Do you expect me to do that now?” It was said just above a whisper, almost helpless.

“What?” He frowned. “No, not at all. I do not expect anything.” His ears lowered, another frown lighting over his mouth. “I may be immoral in many ways, but all I expect from you is honesty, loyalty, and commitment.”

She finally tilted her cup and drank, her eyes glued to him. After a pause, she set her cup down and wrapped both hands around it, intertwining her fingers. “You’re not at all like I imagined.”

“I probably was back then,” he said. “Perhaps not as extreme, but I have mellowed since then.” He’d become more human, he inwardly thought. But he didn’t want to say this aloud, still grappling with the reality himself.

Since eight months had passed and they seemed to have a fairly close relationship now, she had another set of worries to address before they moved forward. “I feel bad, but I can’t meet you where you’re at right now.” She hung her head. “I can tell you care about me and it sounds like we have a good relationship, but I’ve forgotten all of that.” She dared to peek up at his face. “Are you upset?”

“No, it is to be expected,” he replied. “Of course I wish this would not have happened, but Mikage warned us it was possible. I was prepared for it.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said. Then, bristling, she added, “I mean, it’s not good, but I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

He only smiled at her, declining to mention that, yes, it did hurt in some ways. But he understood, and he didn’t feel like opening that particular door. “Nanami, I knew that you would feel this way if it came to this. Actually, you are handling it much better than I imagined. You have adjusted to the idea quickly.” He paused, but she didn’t say anything. So he continued. “We just went through a period of abstinence, where we dated as human high schoolers do. I can handle it until you have recovered.”

A wave of relief washed over her. “I’m really glad to hear that.” She smiled wanly at him. “I don’t really know about dating, but you said we were friends too, right?”

Despite himself, those words pierced his heart. He drew in a breath. “Yes, we are.”

“I think that’s where I can be at right now,” she admitted. “I mean, I don’t remember anything about you or about us… I need some time.”

“Of course,” he replied, but inside he ached, this cold sensation washing over him. “I will try to hold back, but I cannot promise I will not slip and speak or treat you affectionately.”

It was a little awkward, but she nodded all the same. “Okay, but I don’t think I can give you anything back. I’m sorry…”

To be rejected by her was the worst feeling, he thought, drawing in a breath. Ears lowered, he reminded himself — this was just temporary. But it still hurt to breathe. “I understand.”

Just judging by the look on his face, he was hurt — and badly. It made her tense, feeling just awful, but she couldn’t do things like say she loved him when she didn’t remember a thing. Nor was she comfortable with him touching her yet. Although, she was coming around to that idea, seeing how sweet and respectful he was — not to mention he was more than easy on the eyes. It sent another wave of guilt over her to think of him in those terms, to reduce him to a hot guy, but she couldn’t help herself.

She’d gone quiet, so he exhaled and stood. “Well, if you are through with breakfast, I will take your plate. You should rest today.”

Glancing down at her cooling, half-eaten stack of pancakes, she perked up. “Oh! I almost forgot. No, I’ll finish breakfast. You went to all this trouble and they’re really delicious.” She pressed her palms together and beamed up at him. “I didn’t know you were a cook — and a really good one too.”

Despite how hollow he felt inside, he still offered a smile. “I am glad you like it. I enjoy cooking for you.”

Her own gaze softened as she watched him collect the other plates from the table, taking them to the sink. Something about him still seemed reserved, fragile, but so far he’d held his tongue. Part of her wanted to ask him how he felt, but she didn’t want to open that door and make herself feel worse than she already did, especially since nothing could be done. Instead, she focused on finishing the rest of her food, the silence falling around them like a weighted blanket.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Nanami had crawled back to bed for another hour and a half, having taken some medicine for her headache and deciding she might as well make the most of her day off to rest. No one bothered her during that time, and she managed to get a nap despite the shock she’d had that morning. Once it had receded, everything had been rather anticlimactic. Tomoe had accepted her needs wholeheartedly and had given her space, and as far as she could tell, all was domestic and quiet. She still couldn’t believe that this was what it was like to be married to a wild fox deity — him cooking pancakes and then washing the dishes without complaint.

By the time she woke up, she felt more rested but still had that dull headache. She’d hoped that she would’ve regained some of her memories, but that hadn’t been the case. At least she felt like she hadn’t lost any more of them because nothing felt disorienting and foreign. She lay in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, wracking her brain for any sign of her misplaced memories. She was unsuccessful. 

Eventually, she got up and wandered to the main shrine area, feeling a little bored. Part of her wanted to go out, but she felt bad asking to leave to have fun while Mizuki worked in her place. Those musings were put on hold, however, when she caught sight of Mikage and Tomoe on the veranda and heard her name.

“It is currently in Nanami’s body, according to what I read in Takamagahara,” Tomoe’s voice said. Then, he snorted. “It does not surprise me that he has not come to take it from her directly, since he hates beasts so much. But to ask you to retrieve it instead of her? Ridiculous.”

A shiver rippled down her spine, and Nanami swallowed back a squeak. What the hell was in her body? She hastened to the doorway, stopping just within it since Mikage and Tomoe both looked so serious. “What are you talking about?”

Of course, Tomoe had heard her door open as well as her footsteps approaching, so he calmly turned to look at her. He wished he’d gotten a chance to speak with Mikage in more detail before they approached her, but she was here now. “About something that does not belong to you being stuck in your body,” he said, unblinking.

“What is it?” Eyes wide, she sat on the veranda between them. “Is it something bad?”

“It is harmless,” Tomoe told her. “But it would still be for the best to remove it.”

“Are you gonna tell me what this thing is? You’re freaking me out,” she blurted out, leaning forward anxiously.

“No need to worry, Nanami-san,” Mikage assured her. “It’s an elixir meant to sustain your health, though… It doesn’t belong to you.” At this, he smiled wanly.

“What does that mean?” Nanami’s brow furrowed. “I don’t remember taking an elixir.” Here, she glanced at Tomoe, wondering if it was something that had happened in the months after their marriage.

Mikage answered before Tomoe did. “You didn’t — not directly anyway.” Here, he pushed his glasses up his nose, a light frown forming on his forehead. “It’s something that Tomoe gave to your ancestor when she was very ill so that she’d survive her pregnancy. Since it’s a piece of a yokai, it was passed down through the generations, and now you have it.”

Nanami’s eyes blew wide. “A part of a yokai?” she squeaked.

At this, Mikage smiled wanly. “Well…not just any yokai. Tomoe took Ryuo’s right eye. It was known for its healing abilities. It was even said that it could allow one to live forever.” Here, he grimaced. “That, however, isn’t true.”

Question after question swarmed Nanami’s mind, and she wasn’t even sure where to start. For one thing, it made her shudder to think of someone else’s eye lodged in her body. Then there was the fact that Tomoe had taken it. That was pretty disturbing too. Yet Mikage had said it had been a gift, to her ancestor nonetheless. A small, confused noise left her.

“I don’t know how to feel about all this,” she moaned.

“Fret not,” Tomoe piped up, noting how her complexion looked green. “There is no reason for you to have it, so we will remove it.”

“When it makes sense to remove it,” Mikage interjected, solemn. “Remember what sort of strain Nanami-san has already endured. It might be best to give her some time to recover.”

“Well, we will eventually have to return it to Ryuo, lest he come to pester us with a visit,” Tomoe muttered. Here, his ears lowered and his mouth twisted, eyes sliding to the side. “Although returning it will be rather unpleasant indeed. I am certain he will not be happy to see me again.”

“Yes, you have been avoiding him for so long,” Mikage said, shaking his head. “It’s a wonder you’ve succeeded.”

The more they talked about this Ryuo, the more confused Nanami became. They talked about him like she knew who he was, but she didn’t have a clue. “Um, who’s Ryuo?” She smiled blankly and blinked, hands in her lap.

Although she’d lost her memories, to discover that she’d never heard of Ryuo left Tomoe with a slack-jawed expression. “You have not heard of the Dragon Lord? Please tell me you are not serious.”

“Now, Tomoe, there’s no need to belittle her,” Mikage chided. “He is known by another name, after all.” Turning to Nanami, he asked, “Does the name Ryujin ring a bell?”

Here, Nanami brightened up. “Oh, yes! Okay, I know who you’re talking about now.” She paused for a moment and then it sank in what they’d told her. “Wait, wait… You took his eye? What the hell?”

Tomoe frowned, bristling. “You ought to be glad I did because it is the reason you are sitting here right now,” he grumbled.

Recalling the way Mikage had worded it — that it was so her ancestor would survive — Nanami shivered. “This is all so weird,” she moaned. “I’d say it sounds like fate if you hadn’t taken it!” Her own words sank in, and she slid her gaze in Tomoe’s direction, her shoulders tense. “I can’t believe you stole an eye!”

“That was over five hundred years ago!” Tomoe said, ears flattening again. When Nanami looked at him like that, it was hard to make eye contact. Especially since this was about his past lover who had been her ancestor, and she didn’t even realize it at the moment. 

Pout pursing her lips and eyes half lidding, she asked in cool tones, “Why did you steal his eye, though? I didn’t think you’d go to such lengths to save someone. I heard you killed people back then.”

Oh, her scrutiny razed him. It was a stark reminder that this Nanami hadn’t forgiven him, hadn’t absolved him of his wrongdoings. And how he didn’t want her to see him like that. “The rumors were exaggerated,” he insisted, frowning. “I may have once been a wild animal, but I grew up. I was doing no such thing by that time.” Here, Mikage coughed, so Tomoe turned his gaze to the other god. “What? It is true! I did not kill without good reason!”

“Oh, my god,” Nanami breathed, her head spinning. “There shouldn’t be a good reason!”

There was no winning this battle, Tomoe thought with a groan. But even if his words would dig the hole deeper, he couldn’t stand to let her think he was that sort of person, even back then. “What if someone’s life were at stake? Would that be a good reason?”

His thoughts flitted to Jigoku, when she’d crawled to him in a mangled state, sobbing for him. She’d even told him that she’d been glad he’d attacked Rekka, which he could understand given how frightened she’d been. Even Nanami wasn’t a saint, he thought. Nor should anyone expect her to be.

Since Nanami only gaped at him, horrified, he pressed on. “You have heard that I had a human lover back then, haven’t you?”

So it had been true, Nanami thought, a bit startled. She nodded, eyes locked on his. “I’ve heard a little, but not a lot. Something about how you rampaged against the gods.” Realizing her statement could’ve come off as too casual, she blushed. “Not that I don’t care about what happened or anything! I just don’t know too much.”

It would be better to leave it that way for now, Tomoe thought with a hum. “Well.” He huffed, embarrassed. “I fed her the eye.”

A couple of seconds passed before it clicked, and her mouth fell open. “My ancestor was your lover?” she shrieked. Before Tomoe could say a word, she barrelled on, the horror washing over her in a cold wave. “And you said she was pregnant. That doesn’t mean that you’re my—?”

“Gods, no!” Tomoe interrupted, finding the assumption too awkward and horrific to allow her to finish the thought aloud. “It was not my child. Your ancestor — my lover — had a husband before me.” He frowned, averting his gaze. “Unfortunately, he was killed and she forged a common-in-law marriage with me for protection.”

What was with him and marriages of convenience? She’d known he was pretty old, but she hadn’t considered that he’d had a serious relationship before. After all, he was known to be lecherous, a playboy, surrounding himself with bevies of women. Once again, he confronted her with a reality that was different from what she’d imagined.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little awkward. “I’m sorry…”

Before she could continue down a path that didn’t matter, he said, “That is beside the point. The point is — Ryuo’s eye was the reason your ancestors lived long enough to have children, but it was a double edged sword. A curse came with it.”

Nanami gulped. “What…kind of curse?”

“There is no need to worry,” Tomoe said, placing a hand on the top of her head, his gaze softening. “The curse has been broken by our contract. Besides, our children will be yokai, so there is no need for it anymore, as any lingering effects will not be passed down. It is best we give the eye back and put this behind us.” Here, he grimaced. “Then I will be able to go to the coast in peace. I don’t need him pestering me anymore.”

“Well, yeah, you stole his eye,” she said, emphasizing the same words again, unable to believe such a thing had happened. He only side-eyed her, an expression of distaste on his mouth.

“So, Nanami-san,” Mikage said, drawing her gaze to him, “I can remove the eye, but I wanted to make sure you were up to it. It won’t hurt, but this is a more delicate matter and it’s likely to put you to sleep for a while. That’s the part that may be uncomfortable for you given your condition now.”

“Would it make my memory loss worse or something?” Nanami asked.

Mikage shook his head. “Not at all. It’s just disorienting. I figured you’d had enough of that.”

That didn’t sound too bad, she thought. And if Tomoe had stolen it, then it was best to give it back. “Yeah, we should go ahead and do it,” she agreed, then smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Mikage prompted, his even gaze trained on her.

At this, she nodded, emphatic. “Yes, I want to make this right.” She glanced at Tomoe, giving him a sharp look. “I can’t believe you stole from Ryujin. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“He goes by Ryuo,” Tomoe corrected, then narrowed his eyes, tail flicking. “As for what was wrong with me, I was blinded by infatuation and panic. You cannot say you would not have done the same thing if he had dropped his eye and you had found it.”

Nanami opened her mouth and shut it and opened it again. She didn’t know how to respond to that. The whole thing was so preposterous. Instead, she said, “That’s stupid. That’d never happen.”

Before Tomoe and Nanami could get into a heated, petty argument, Mikage stood and cleared his throat. “Well, Nanami-san, let me know when you’re ready. At least take some time to make sure you feel up to it physically.”

“I’m fine—” Nanami began, but Mikage shook his head.

“You’ve been through a lot recently. Besides, Ryuo hasn’t had the eye in five hundred years. A little longer won’t hurt,” Mikage insisted.

Nanami shut her open mouth and pouted. It seemed Mikage wanted her to consider the pros and the cons. He had a point, though. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Sounds good.” Mikage offered her a smile, which she couldn’t help but return. Then, he turned and disappeared into the shrine, leaving her on the veranda with Tomoe.

For a minute or two, they sat silently, each staring ahead at the yard, occasionally stealing glances at each other. The time gave Nanami a chance to really think about what it meant — for Tomoe to go to such lengths to save a human. To think he’d cared so much… He’d said he’d been infatuated, panicked, but she didn’t think just anyone would risk it all to go up against Ryujin.

It made her a little curious. Especially since it seemed that the more she learned about him, the more it seemed like the gods had lied to her about his character.

“Um… I don’t approve of stealing or anything, but I wanna know… What happened?” she dared to ask.

Not this again, Tomoe thought with a barely stifled groan. Nanami looked at him with so much earnest, so much innocence, and it only served to make him squirm inside. Now that he’d had his closure regarding Yukiji, he wasn’t keen on unearthing it again — and yet he didn’t want to keep her fully in the dark. He would tiptoe around the details, he decided. Even if she couldn’t love him as she was now, it wouldn’t feel good to hear that one’s partner had once devoted themselves to someone else.

“I don’t know what more you want me to say,” Tomoe finally replied. “It is as Mikage described — your ancestor was very sick, and she would not have survived the night. I was desperate, so I went straight to Ryuo’s palace and barged in. I took the eye and that was that.”

At his clinical explanation, Nanami frowned lightly. She swung her legs, gripping the edge of the veranda. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You asked what happened,” he pointed out, eyes half lidding.

“I know but…” Here, she sighed. “I guess I’m trying to understand you better, that’s all. If you think about it, that’s the kind of thing you’d read about in old folk tales.” A blush spread over her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to her feet. “It’s kind of…romantic in a way.”

Before she could get too wrapped up in it, Tomoe placed his hand on hers, drawing her surprised gaze back to him. He stared straight into her eyes, needing her to see the honesty in his own. “I will have you know that I am past that relationship. What I did for her then has nothing to do with how I am now. I am with you now, and you are my focus.”

His blunt manner of speaking knocked the wind out of her, momentarily rendering her incapable of speech. His gaze was too intense, and it made her entire body feel hot. Snapping her focus to her feet, hyper aware of the warmth of his hand over hers, she said shakily, “I wasn’t saying I was jealous or anything. I was only thinking about how the gods described you as this cruel, untamed person. But you’re very kind.” Her cheeks burned. “I guess it’s kind of hard to imagine you can be so kind but also do things like steal body parts, so I was trying to understand what you were like around other people...”

A sigh of relief escaped him, his shoulders sagging. This was something he could handle. “Yokai have a different moral code from humans,” he explained, idly brushing his thumb over the back of her hand, this comforting gesture. “You cannot truly compare it with the modern human world, but if you need an analogy to understand it… Think of how humans take artifacts and sell them for their own gain. Those things do not belong to them, but it is acceptable, because of their greed and curiosity.” Here, he frowned. “Is it kind to steal someone’s eye? Not particularly. However, it was not unkind either. It did not kill Ryuo, and it saved your ancestor’s life. In the spirit world, the consequences of doing versus not doing are weighed differently.”

He had an interesting viewpoint, she thought, laughing nervously. “I guess so.” She peeked up at his expression, but it remained unreadable. At least he didn’t seem to be upset. “So…you don’t hate humans, huh? I mean, you had a human lover back then. And…you married me.”

“I do not hate them,” he confirmed, again running his thumb over her knuckles. “I will not lie and say I have never hated them. Those feelings were due to ignorance when I was very, very young. Young foxes can be quite skittish. It is in our nature.” A little smile flickered over his lips. “But I have come to understand them, to some degree. One does not live as a god for hundreds of years and not gain some insight.”

“That makes sense.” She found herself gazing into his eyes again, mesmerized by their color, a pure amethyst in this afternoon light. He was really close, she thought, her heart skipping.

“Besides,” he murmured, tilting his head towards hers, his voice lowered to a near whisper, “you have taught me much about humans. Much more than I had known before I met you. I suppose you could say that, through you, I have gained an appreciation for the mundane world.” His expression softened, and he reached up, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering. “After all, should a husband not understand the world his wife belongs to?”

A squeak died in her throat, and she swore her face was hot enough to look sunburned. “You’re a smooth talker! How can you say that so casually?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Because it is the truth. I am not ashamed to admit my reasoning.”

“Wow, a guy who’s not too cool to talk about his feelings!” she thought, stunned, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. He had so much confidence, so much ease in the way he spoke to her, that it was even a little intimidating. At the same time, though, she could see how it would be easy for women to fall for him. Oh, geez, she was in trouble.

Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, another nervous laugh leaving her. “Yeah, well, thanks for talking to me. I know it’s an awkward subject!” She exhaled in a shuddering breath. “Um, I have to go think. You know, about what Mikage said. So…I’m going to go do that.”

Before he could get a word out, she skittered into the shrine, going straight to her room. There, she slapped the door shut and leaned her back against the wall, breathing harshly into her hands. Holy crap, she thought. She was in way over her head. He was going to be more than she could handle.

—

For a while, Nanami hid in her room, recovering from her intense conversation with Tomoe. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d spoken to her, the way he’d touched her, as though she was something precious. It was obvious to her that he didn’t dwell on his past relationship at all, that he was fully devoted to her, because she had never had anyone speak words like that to her before. It was uncomfortable, in a sense, because this wasn’t usual for her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she deserved that treatment at all.

What had she even done to earn it?

It blew her mind to think that this fox, a god so powerful that it had taken multiple kami to seal him, could feel such affection for her. She was just a human girl, nothing special. Her looks might’ve been a little above average, but she wasn’t beautiful. Nor was she particularly smart or athletic. She had no clue what made him, this gorgeous and ethereal spirit, so infatuated with her. It made no sense.

The thought crossed her mind that it could all be a lie. After all, Tomoe was the god of deceit. Yet even if he had the power to manipulate her into believing whatever he said, she somehow didn’t think it was a lie. If it had been a lie, then Mikage wouldn’t have confirmed his actions. Nor would Mizuki have vouched for him.

She flopped to her futon, her thoughts drifting to their initial conversation. He’d told her they were lovers, that they were physical with each other. That, too, could’ve been a lie, swaying her into believing it when her memories were just out of reach, but then she remembered the delicacy of his touch. If it’d been a lie, then he would’ve gone further, she realized. But he hadn’t so much as kissed her.

“Oh, I’m so confused,” she moaned aloud to herself, and buried her face in her pillow. 

Obviously, they’d kissed before, she reasoned, recalling her ability to word bind him. A part of her wished she remembered that much, because it seemed like a pretty big detail to forget. Along with the entirety of their wedding, she thought with a grimace. She had to admit that if she’d been in Tomoe’s shoes, she wouldn’t have been handling it even half as well as he was. If he hadn’t remembered their wedding, their first time, her in general, then she would’ve been hurt beyond belief.

Her eyes drifted to the digital clock and she groaned, the sound muffled by the pillow. She was supposed to be thinking about returning Ryuo’s eye. But here she was, fixated on Tomoe, on what had or hadn’t happened between them. This wasn’t the time for her to get wrapped up in some guy like a typical high schooler, but how could she not think about him and wonder?

She wondered if she and Tomoe had gone on dates — to the movies, the amusement park, the aquarium. She wondered if he’d walked her to and from school. She wondered if her friends had met him, and what they thought about him if they had. And she wondered what she’d done for him in return.

It didn’t seem like she’d done much of anything for him, given that he seemed to do everything for her, even cooking meals. What was more, Tomoe had gone to the freaking bottom of the ocean and fought Ryujin for his lover; how could she even begin to compare? The most she could offer him was relief in bed, but she was certain even that was less than mediocre for him, given the kind of experience he had.

Why did he say he loved her?

“Maybe he’s just too nice,” she found herself thinking, a sentiment that she would’ve never imagined she’d express at the point where her memories were cut off. Either that or he really had been that lonely. Vaguely, she wondered if foxes were like dogs, loving their families no matter who they were.

Well, she should at least do something to show him her gratitude, she thought. No matter that she felt awkward. No matter that she was confused and embarrassed. He’d already done a lot for her — from caring for her to assuring her to making her feel as comfortable as she could.

With a sigh, she dragged herself out of her futon. She didn’t even know what he liked, or what he’d appreciate. She felt bad for him. 

Quietly, she crept from her room, glancing around to make sure Tomoe was nowhere in sight. Until she figured this out, she didn’t think she could face him. And even then, she wasn’t sure she would stick around for long.

As she wandered into the kitchen, avoiding the main area the best she could, she found Mizuki working at the counter, a jar for his sacred sake standing open in front of him. He must’ve been making a new batch. It seemed like he was finishing up, though, so she didn’t hesitate to lightly tap his shoulder.

“Hi, Na—” he began, but she pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him.

“Mizuki,” she whispered, eyes darting from him to the kitchen entrance. “I need your help, but we gotta be quiet, okay?”

His clear emerald eyes remained wide open, and he nodded, accepting her request.

“I don’t know what Tomoe likes,” she continued, whispering in his ear. “I want to do something for him to thank him, but I don’t have a clue.”

At this, Mizuki shrugged. “You don’t have to do much. He’s a pretty simple guy.” When Nanami only stared at him, her eyes boring into his, he sighed. “I dunno. He likes tea and sake. His favorite food is sasamochi. And, uh, he has a lot of books, but he has so much stuff I don’t think he cares about material things.” Here, he tapped his chin with his forefinger, eyes drifting towards the ceiling in thought. “His shrine has a really big garden with lots of roses, so I think he likes being outside.”

None of what he’d said was very helpful. She heaved a sigh, her eyes falling shut. “Is there anything he needs? Or anything that would make his life easier?”

Mizuki hummed. When she opened her eyes to look at him, she found his brow furrowed in thought. “I mean, he mostly talks about how you need to grow your god powers. That would probably make his life easier.”

A nervous titter left her. Without her memories, she had likely backslid on what knowledge she had gained regarding her powers. Great, she only made his life even harder the way she was. That made it even more imperative to remember as quickly as possible.

Changing tactics, she asked, “Do you think there’s anything that would make me remember faster?”

“I dunno. In dramas, people usually have to be hit on the head or come out of a coma or something.” Here, alarm flashed over his features. “Please don’t ask me to hit you on the head, Nanami-chan!”

“I don’t want you to hit me on the head either!” she whisper-screamed. Then, softening her tone, she added, “I just don’t know what to do.”

Mizuki pursed his lips and hummed again. “You got me. Maybe you need something that’ll jog your memory? Like a reminder or a place where something emotional happened for you.”

“But I don’t even know what or where that would be,” she whined. 

“Why don’t you ask Tomoe then? He’d probably like to get out of the shrine for a while anyway.” 

“I wanted to surprise him—” she began.

Grinning, Mizuki interrupted, “Just asking about it would surprise him! He probably doesn’t think you’re that interested in spending time with him, since your memories are gone.”

“It’s kind of late, though,” Nanami mumbled, touching her forefingers together.

“It’s not that late.” Mizuki beamed at her. “He won’t mind anyway.”

She was just stalling, she thought with a sigh. But the thought of approaching Tomoe with this suggestion felt a lot like asking him on a date, and that made her so nervous she swore her knees would give out. “Will he think I’m asking him to go out go out?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Mizuki scratched his cheek, expression contemplative. “You could just tell him what you told me — that you wanna get your memories back.”

That was true, she thought, swallowing hard. “It does feel a little selfish when you put it like that,” she murmured, averting her gaze.

Mizuki blinked. “Not really. He wants you to get your memories back too. Probably more than any of us. I think it’d make him happy that you’re even trying.”

She clenched her fists and drew in a deep breath. Letting it out in a rush, she consciously relaxed her muscles, loosening her fingers. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mizuki cheered, forgetting to keep his voice down.

“Shhhhh!” Nanami hissed, almost frantic. “I want to go find him, not have him find me!”

Confusion wrinkled Mizuki’s brow. It was clear he didn’t understand why she wanted to be the one to go to Tomoe, but at least he nodded. He didn’t have to understand, though. But she hoped it’d mean something to Tomoe — for her to initiate with questions about their past together.

After searching the shrine and finding no sign of him, Nanami finally opened the door to the veranda. There, she spotted Tomoe sitting quietly, smoking a pipe. His eyes slid in her direction, and Nanami thought he looked more bored than relaxed. Maybe this was exactly what he needed, she realized.

“Hey, Tomoe, are you busy?” she found herself mindlessly asking.

“Clearly not,” he replied in a dry tone, releasing a mouthful of smoke. “Did you need something?”

Something about that question struck Nanami straight through the heart. His first instinct had been that she needed something. Not even that she’d seek him out for company. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure her request was such a good idea after all.

“Ah, no… I was just wondering, that’s all!” She was just about to retreat inside and shut the door, but he’d captured her in his gaze, and she felt like she was frozen to the spot. Some invisible binding seemed to connect her to him, to root her here, separate from the guilt which washed over her in waves. Perhaps it was the soft wistfulness in his rounded pupils, or perhaps it was the slight air of melancholy emanating off of him.

Mizuki had said he’d probably like to get out of the shrine for a while. And, if she thought about it, it made sense. After all, he’d been bound to a shrine for hundreds of years.

Slowly, her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know if I should bother you or not.”

“Why?” He touched the mouthpiece of his pipe to his lips and took a drag.

“I don’t know. I felt awkward, I guess.” She shrugged one shoulder, smiling weakly.

He exhaled the smoke with a long sigh, balancing his pipe between his thumb and one elegant finger. “Well, you are already here. You might as well bother me.” A hint of a smirk twitched at his lips.

She swore his eyes danced with mischief when he looked at her like that. If she hadn’t already disturbed him, then she would’ve immediately bailed. But she couldn’t do that. In the end, this wasn’t just for her own good, but for everyone’s. And, as Mizuki had said, Tomoe would benefit the most.

“I know it’s dark and everything, but I wondered if we should go somewhere,” she mumbled, unable to meet his steady gaze. “I thought maybe, if we went to a place with some sort of meaning, that it’d help me remember.” An awkward laugh escaped her. “I mean, it can’t hurt to try, right?”

How odd, he thought. Somehow, this moment gave him a sense of deja vu, back to when Nanami had poured sake for him and told him she wanted to try to have a real marriage. Ah, it was just like Nanami to propose something like this. A more genuine smile flickered over his mouth, and he rose.

“Very well,” he agreed. “I need to run by my shrine anyway. I am certain my prayers have been piling up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” She managed a smile. “I’d like to see your shrine anyway. Where is it?”

“It is also in Kawagoe,” he replied, tapping out the ashes from his pipe before he began to disassemble it.

She tilted her head. “Why haven’t I heard about it, then?”

“Hm, most likely because my jurisdiction is not something most people talk openly about,” he mused. “Although, you also did not know about Mikage shrine, so I believe you simply have your head in the clouds most of the time.”

A frown knitted her brows together. “Hey! I can’t help it! I had bigger things to worry about, you know.”

His heart faltered, and his expression morphed into sympathy. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her head. “I know,” he murmured. “You had to survive.”

All at once, he disarmed her, rendering her speechless. So he knew about that — about her abandonment and homelessness. That meant he also knew that she had no biological family to speak of. And for him to know and understand such a vulnerable part of her life was sobering.

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Tomoe dropped his hand to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, ever so delicately. Then, looking her up and down, he frowned. Shrugging his haori off, he said, “You will catch a cold like that.”

The warmth of his body heat, trapped in the silken fabric of his haori, surrounded her. It smelled like tobacco and spices, the scent rich and pleasant and somehow soothing. For a split second, she felt herself swell within, as though she was bordering against something just out of reach. But then it faded away, leaving her empty and disappointed. She’d almost remembered something.

“Come, hold onto me,” he coaxed, offering his hand.

She flushed deeply, lifting her hand but letting it hover in the air. “Um, why?”

“Because you will get lost in space and time if you do not,” he replied with a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling.

Immediately, she grasped his hand, so tightly that it would’ve hurt — had Tomoe been a normal person, that was. “That doesn’t sound good!” 

A chuckle escaped him, and he drew her close. “Indeed, it is not.” He flicked an enchanted leaf into the air.

A melodious sound, like the ringing of small bells, surrounded them. In an instant, the wind picked up, swirling around them in a vortex. What looked like flames burst around them, and she shrieked, burying her face in the front of his kimono and gripping the fabric in her free hand. The moment she did, however, the wind died down and stopped. All she could hear was the furious beating of her own heart.

The thick scent of cortisol tickled his nose, and he very nearly sneezed. Oh, he had stressed her too much, he realized. That protective instinct within him flared, and he gathered her in his arms, holding her shaking form against his solid one.

“It is all right,” he murmured in her ear. “I was merely transporting us. It is quicker that way.”

“Wh-why would you do that?” she choked out, her teeth chattering. “I didn’t remember that you could do that! I thought something awful was happening!”

His ears drooped sideways. “I should have known it would frighten you,” he said, voice low. “If it bothers you, I will not do it again.”

A pained moan left Nanami, and she pressed her face closer to his chest, residual tremors wracking her body. As awkward as this whole thing was, she had to admit that something about being in his arms felt safe. And he spoke so kindly to her. It was alarming how easy he made it for her to trust him.

“I’m…I’m okay,” she stammered, taking a shaky step backwards.

His eyes half lidded, his hands drifting to her arms. “Are you certain you can stand?”

“Yeah, I told you — I’m fine!” She waved a hand, forcing a smile and a laugh.

She was still rattled, he thought, slack-jawed. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her over something so petty. Sometimes, when she got like this, the best thing to do was to let her find out her limits on her own. Especially when it came to this version of Nanami, who had not yet learned from all the harsh lessons and strife they’d gone through that he didn’t say such things to imply her unworthiness.

A heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach, something cold and somber. At one time, he’d thought that Nanami would be better off having forgotten her hardships and regaining her innocence. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he beckoned for her to follow, then took the steps up to the main shrine. As he slid the door open, he found that Hisoka had lit the lanterns for him, even knowing he wouldn’t be coming by. Glancing towards the altar, he also found that Hisoka had recorded an entire stack of prayers, all of them neatly arranged in several piles. It looked like Hisoka had sorted them using his method too.

While Tomoe rifled through the ofuda, Nanami glanced around, taking the space in. The inner sanctum of Mikage shrine was much smaller than this. She swore even her breaths echoed in the empty space. All Tomoe had set up was the altar and a low desk for transcribing and answering prayers. She didn’t even know why he needed this much room, because as it was, it made her feel a little hollow, lonely.

Maybe it was his residual feelings lingering behind, she thought, expression falling. How many years had he spent chained in this room with no one to talk to? It began to make a little more sense why he might’ve fallen in love with her.

Tomoe’s voice split through her thoughts. “All right, I have the ofuda. We may go.”

“Wait!” she cried out, and when he froze, mouth sharply downturned and eyes wide, she realized what she’d done. “Oh, no, I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to be a command!”

Even her wishy-washy manner of wording it loosened the binding’s grip on him. Although it was far too easy for her to word bind him, he could be grateful that it was equally as easy for her to undo it. He chose to ignore it. “What is it?”

Clasping her hands behind her back and toeing at the floor, Nanami asked, “Would it be okay if I looked around? I mean, I live here, right? So maybe it’d help me get my memories back.”

“Hm, there is no reason not to,” he agreed. “Very well. I will take you on a tour.”

Given that he’d been married to her for eight months, Nanami shouldn’t have been surprised at how easily he allowed it. But it felt a little taboo, like she was butting into his privacy. This had been the place where he’d lived and worked, the only place he’d known for hundreds of years. The amount of history he had with these grounds made her feel like she was cracking open his ribs and staring directly into his soul. Quickly, she shook the thought from her mind and then followed Tomoe down the veranda, to the left where another building lay.

Since Nanami seemed reserved, walking as though on eggshells, Tomoe took it upon himself to slide the door open. As he switched on the lights, he watched Nanami blink, staring all around her. “These are your quarters,” he told her. “Although, these days, you sleep in mine.”

Immediately, she recalled waking up that morning and finding him lying next to her. It didn’t matter that he’d been in another futon. There hadn’t been so much as a screen separating them, and he’d still been too close for comfort. She was too embarrassed to respond, so she simply ducked her head and scurried into the next room.

As she poked around, first in the kitchenette and then in what looked to be Mizuki’s room, she searched for any trace of her memories. She didn’t even feel the slightest hint of them, not even a ghost grazing her cheek. This place didn’t stir the kind of emotional response in her that the scent of his haori had, not even when she rifled through her own bedroom. But wasn’t this her home too? To think she felt no connection to this place left her oddly stressed.

“I’m not remembering anything,” she said aloud, her tone strained, edged with a nasal whine.

A punctuated sigh left him, and he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do not push yourself so hard. It will come when it comes.” 

Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised that she felt nothing. After all, it was his bed that she slept in, not her own. He tried not to get his hopes up, but he felt a small swell in his throat as the intrusive thought broke through. Maybe she would remember something in his quarters. That had been the place where their relationship had blossomed, where he’d told her he loved her, where he’d comforted her and pleasured her and bonded with her like nowhere else. Surely, she had to have some emotional attachment to it, even if she couldn’t quite remember it.

“Why don’t we continue the tour?” he suggested, squeezing her shoulder.

The distress abated, like the tide pulling back, and Nanami nodded. Come to think of it, Mizuki had mentioned a garden here, saying that Tomoe liked to spend time outside. That meant they’d probably sat in his garden many times. She could imagine it — the two of them surrounded by flowers, each enjoying a cup of tea and perhaps some snacks. The image she conjured in her mind was nothing spectacular though, nor could she envision it clearly. That had to mean it hadn’t happened, she thought, her heart sinking.

“Can we go to the garden?” she asked aloud, clinging to a shred of hope that it might still trigger a memory. “Mizuki said you spend a lot of time there.”

At this, he heaved a tiny sigh. “It is unlikely it will do anything to help you remember, but I will show it to you.” He turned, gesturing for her to follow.

As he led her out of her quarters and to the backyard, his thoughts flitted to the times they had spent together in this place. Here had been a training ground of sorts. And here had also been where Yukiji had lingered, where hundreds of spirits and ghosts had been unleashed to wreck havoc. Maybe she would remember something after all, he thought, clenching his jaw. Although none of it was particularly pleasant.

The moon wasn’t full yet, and so the crescent did little to light the way for her. With a flick of his wrist, he ignited the lanterns which he’d placed along the path back when they’d first started spending time together. He watched her eyes widen in awe, that ever curious sparkle in them as she glanced around. Despite himself, a smile twitched at his lips, his heart slightly warmed.

Now that she had some light, Nanami was better able to take in her surroundings. Upon seeing bloom after bloom flourishing, her jaw dropped. “They’re blooming! In November!” she cried out.

Snagging a blush pink rose from a nearby bush, he said, “Gods do not need the weather to cooperate.” Here, he held the flower out to her. “You could certainly make them bloom too, if you tried.”

Carefully, she accepted the rose and cupped the blossom in her palms, staring down at it. The petals were so soft, the scent so fragrant; there was nothing fake about it. It was hard to believe that she could make such a miracle occur too, but it also made her a little giddy. To think, she had to power to make such beautiful things!

“It’s gorgeous,” she said out loud, a soft smile playing on her lips. “How cool is it that we can do this?”

“Well, I never thought of it as anything special. After all, illusions come as second nature to me.” He chuckled a bit, slipping his hands into his opposite sleeves. “But I suppose when you put it that way… It is cool.”

Something about the way he said such a casual word made her giggle. “Oh, wow, I didn’t know ancient kitsune could use slang,” she teased.

He purposely pinned his ears back, feigning annoyance. “What? I am still capable of learning!”

“Yeah. I can tell.” 

She flashed him the kind of smile that made him weak in the knees. The way she beamed at him was just like his Nanami, with so much vibrancy and affection, her eyes soft and sweet. It made his heart pound, and he couldn’t help but take a step towards her, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and press his mouth to hers. In this setting, it would’ve been so romantic, would’ve lit his soul on fire. But then her smile faded, and he remembered her affliction.

A pang pulled in his chest, and he stopped. She didn’t want him to do that. Even if she teased him. Even if her eyes danced when they met his. It would scare her off, and he didn’t want to do that.

Instead, he shuffled past her, pretending as though it had been his intention all along. Clearing his throat, he said, “Come, I will show you my quarters.”

Something had almost happened, just now. Nanami had felt this electric spark in the air between them, this tension that made her stomach flip-flop like she was on a rollercoaster. Even though she knew next to nothing about him, somehow she knew that look on his face, the kind of look that made her heart race. Had he been going to kiss her? Her breath caught, her hands trembling.

There was no reason to think about it, she chided herself as he turned his head away. After all, the moment had passed as quickly as it had started. What he had or hadn’t intended to do could all be in her imagination.

The walk along the back veranda didn’t seem to remind Nanami of anything either, but Tomoe still had hope that something would happen when they got to his room. He paused, glancing back at her to make sure she was right behind him, and then he slid open the door to his quarters. He nodded for her to come in, but she still paused at the threshold, her toes barely kissing the wooden strip at the base of the door.

“Well, you can come in,” he said, deciding to make it explicitly clear.

It felt too private, too intimate. Going into her room and Mizuki’s room had been one thing, but his room? Something about it felt wrong, like she was edging a line that she shouldn’t cross. A part of her wanted to decline when he invited her in, but whether he knew it or not, he begged her with his eyes. She just couldn’t say no.

Cautiously, she stepped inside, slipping her shoes off. Immediately, she realized her mistake. “Why did I do that?” she inwardly lamented. “I’m making out like we’re going to stay here!”

“You can come farther than that, you know,” he said dryly, disgruntled with the way she hung at the door, a miserable expression tugging her mouth. “I will not bite you.”

“I’ve just never been in a guy’s room before—” she started, then bit down on her tongue. What was she saying? Of course she had! Just because she couldn’t remember it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

The corner of his mouth twisted, his eyebrow twitching. “It is not so different from your room,” he droned. “It is not booby-trapped.”

At his incredulous expression, she couldn’t help but giggle. She flashed a small smile as a peace offering, one that he eventually returned. Then, she turned her attention back to the room, deciding to soak it all in.

Unlike her quarters, he didn’t make use of an overhead light. Instead, the warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cozy space, bright enough to chase away any shadows. It smelled lovely in his room — like jasmine tea and incense — noticeable but not cloying. It felt so welcoming in here that she even forgot her reservations, plopping down on the side of the bed as though it were her own.

“It’s so relaxing,” she mused aloud. “I think I could go to sleep—”

Just then, it hit her what she was saying, where she was sitting. A deep red blush spread from her neck to her face, and she scrambled to get up, an ungraceful apology bursting from her lips. Tomoe, however, remained unfazed.

“You could if you wanted to,” Tomoe said without so much as batting an eyelash. “It is not as if you have never slept here before.”

Quivering, she pointed down to the bed. “Y-you mean I slept in here?”

“I don’t see anywhere else you would sleep,” he sassed, his ears slicking backwards.

A pout formed on her mouth. “Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it!” She planted herself heavily on the side of the bed, arms crossed.

“That is simply the way I am,” he quipped, studying her closed-off posture. “I am rude and ill-bred. Some have even called me feral.”

It tickled her, and before she knew it, she had burst out a laugh. “Feral?” she repeated, voice filling the room. “What the heck?”

“I am a wild fox,” he said simply.

Grinning, she let herself drop back to the bed, her hair spilling over her face. It was very comfortable, she inwardly admitted. It felt like she was lying on a cloud, or perhaps a mound of fluff. Suddenly, the mental image of him using his tail fur to stuff the mattress flitted through her mind, and she giggled again.

“What?” he probed, tilting his head. “It was not that amusing.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” She waved him off. “Maybe I’m just tired or something.”

“Hm, then rest,” he said.

Her mission flicked back to the forefront of her consciousness, and her grin dissipated. Slowly, she pushed herself to a sitting position, her eyes locking with his. He arched an eyebrow, almost skeptical, but she didn’t feel like teasing him anymore. After all, she still hadn’t remembered a thing. Not even the scent of his bedding had triggered that same feeling as earlier, and it smelled the exact same.

“I said we were gonna go somewhere, but we just ended up here,” she said aloud. “You’re probably really tired of looking at these walls.”

On the contrary, he thought. He could stay here forever as long as it meant he could be with her. It ached in his throat, but he refused to let it out. Such a sentiment was too heavy for her as she was now. He ought to be grateful that she was being so warm towards him, open to him like she hadn’t been when they’d first married.

“Well, it does not matter to me,” he said aloud. “If you need to rest, I have plenty of work I could be doing.”

She clenched her fists, determined. “I should just try harder to remember. Mizuki said it’d make your life easier, and that’s what I want!”

His eyes widened slightly, his mouth agape. For a few seconds, no sound came out, and he only stared at her in wonder. That stubborn pout of hers spoke to her previous immaturity, but her words… Even now, in this state, she still thought of him.

“You ought to do it for yourself,” he mumbled, ears turned backwards. “Not for me.”

“Then I’ll do it for both of us.” She crawled down to the end of the bed, hanging her arms over the edge of the mattress. “Okay?”

Unable to help it, he smiled, his heart melting at her tenacity and resolve. “I suppose I can accept that.”

“Good. Now why don’t we go do something else? You should really get out of the house, you know.” She grinned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing.

He chuckled and shook his head. When she was like this, it was easier for him to forget his yearning and his heartache. The fact that she cared for him, even this much, was like a warm tongue soothing sore wounds. As long as she was happy; as long as she was trying…

“All right,” he agreed. “There is a restaurant run by kawauso at the border of this world and the mononoke world. It may or may not trigger your memories, but I think you will enjoy it either way.”

To this, she smiled and nodded, grabbing his hand without a thought in the world. It was so strange how she could be so affectionate towards him, and yet still maintain her distance. In the past, he might’ve felt spurned, or like she toyed with him, completely oblivious to his feelings. Now, however, he understood her like he hadn’t back then. He wondered what things would’ve been like had he known what she’d been through, had he been more open himself.

In the end, though, he wouldn’t have changed their past. Because learning to love each other had formed him into the person he was today. It had all perfectly aligned, leading them to where they were now. And any one change in their path could’ve altered the course of their relationship entirely.

A lump came to his throat. Once Nanami regained the majority of her memories, he hoped that she would still be the same person she’d grown to become.

Chapter Text

Since it was a weekend, Nanami didn’t worry so much about how late she and Tomoe stayed out, especially since he was more than happy to take her anywhere she wanted to go. Even so, she let him take the lead, bringing her to every place of significance that they could think of in hopes it would spark something in her. By the end of the night, however, she had made no progress at all, and she had to admit she was also a little anxious about it.

Sleeping it off didn’t exactly help, as she kept waking up throughout the night, disturbed by half dreams and nightmares. And every time her eyes popped open, she felt a little lonelier, a little more apprehensive. There wasn’t much time for her to regain her memories, after all, especially with school starting up again on Monday. She had to do something.

Eventually, as the sun came up, she found that she just couldn’t sleep anymore. She was too restless, and lying still made her feel like she wasn’t doing enough to resolve her predicament. So far, though, nothing she’d tried had worked. The only time she’d even come close had been when she’d first smelled Tomoe’s haori.

Her eyes drifted to the vanity, where she’d folded up his haori and set it aside. She hadn’t worn it all night, so there was still a chance that his scent remained. Desperate, she crawled from her bed to the vanity, taking the haori in her hands. Bringing it up to her nose, she breathed in. It still smelled like him, but after having spent some time outside, the scent was faint.

She closed her eyes, breathing in deeper, desperately searching for that same feeling she’d experienced before. It just wasn’t coming to her. She buried her face in the haori, a small whimper of frustration dying in her throat.

Just before despair could swallow her whole, the door to her room slid open, and she jumped. There, in the doorway, she found Tomoe staring back at her, his eyes equally wide. Realizing that he’d walked in on her clutching his haori to her face, she let out a short shriek, dropping it as though it’d burned her.

“What are you doing?” she cried out, her voice squeaking at the end.

“I could ask you the same thing!” he sputtered out.

She jabbed her forefinger at him. “You were the one who walked in on me!”

“I thought you were still asleep!” His ears slicked back. “And before you ask, I was not coming in to do anything inappropriate. In fact, I was looking for my haori!”

Her face burned. “I wasn’t doing anything weird with it!”

At this, he lifted a brow. “Then what were you doing?”

If she didn’t want him to think she was weird, then she’d better tell him, she realized. Still blushing, she stared down at her lap, her lips pursed in a pout. “I swear I was about to remember something when you put it on me last night. So I was trying to make it happen again.”

“By…?” he pressed.

“Well, it was your scent that did it, so I just thought…” Just hearing herself say those words aloud made her want to bury her face in his haori again — but for a different reason this time. “It’s totally not weird, okay! I had a real reason for doing it!”

His ears perked up a little higher. “Ridiculous,” he said, expression serious. “You should have simply come to me.”

She frowned deeply. “What does that mean?”

For a moment, he remained silent, instead approaching her and taking the haori from her. Then, he knelt before her, meeting her gaze evenly. “Of course it would be much more effective if you sniffed me directly instead of my clothing.”

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?” she squeaked. “Smell you? That’s even weirder, Tomoe!”

“It is hardly weird considering how evocative sense of smell is!” he retorted.

“You’re gonna make me die of embarrassment!” she shouted back.

“And why should you be embarrassed when it is me and I am telling you to do it?” He huffed. “I am only thinking about what is sensible and efficient. Besides, I am a fox. Sense of smell is very important to us. I, out of anyone, would understand how it can unlock one’s memories.” Here, he beckoned for her to scoot closer. “Come here.”

“It’s freakin’ weird,” she said again, aghast.

“It will only take a moment!” he argued. “If you are that self-conscious, then I shall sniff you first!”

As he leaned in, burying his face in her hair, she squeaked. “What the hell?”

“You see? It is no big deal!” He lowered his head, pressing his nose to her throat, drawing in a long whiff of her natural scent. “Now you have no reason to be embarrassed.”

She shrieked. “That tickles! Damn it, Tomoe!”

He lifted his head, expression as solemn as ever. “Well, nothing bad has happened. You may do the same to me without worry, because I would hardly judge you.”

Well, he had degraded himself to make a point, she thought with a shuddering sigh. At this point, it wouldn’t have been fair to insist she wouldn’t do it. Besides, the worst case scenario was that nothing would happen, which wasn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things.

Tentatively, she leaned forward, until her nose brushed his shoulder. She smelled him subtly, her face hot. “It’s not really working,” she whispered hoarsely.

“You are smelling my clothes, not me,” he grumbled. “It will not be as effective.” Here, he pulled the collar of his clothing aside, expression serious. “Try smelling me directly.”

“This is so embarrassing,” she whined, but she accepted his invitation anyway, hovering at his throat and taking a delicate whiff. Something tingled in the back of her mind, this fleeting sensation like a feather tracing the edges of her consciousness, but it sank beneath the surface almost as quickly as it’d come. “Damn it! I almost had it!”

Realizing her pride was going to keep her from burying her nose in his throat, he reached up, palm resting on the back of her head. Gently, he pressed her face into his neck, ignoring the squeak she emitted. “If you believe it nearly worked, then try again.”

His skin felt hot against her nose and mouth, swiftly bringing her attention to the fact her lips were touching his neck. “Oh, my god! I’m kissing his neck!” she thought in horror. Jerking backwards, she stared up at him with wide eyes, breathing harshly through her nose. “Um, that didn’t work so…so I don’t think we should keep trying it.”

Noticing her nerves had flared up, he frowned lightly. “What is wrong?”

There was no way she could articulate what she’d been thinking. With a shaky laugh, she waved it off. “Nothing! Nothing…”

He bit the inside of his lower lip, expression stony. It had been nothing, but clearly she had assigned meaning to it, he thought with a sigh. “All right, then we will try something else.” He bent his head down, until his crown was level with her nose.

Her smile twitched. “Um…what are you doing?”

Ever so seriously, he told her, “Perhaps if you smell my fur—”

“You want me to sniff your ears?” she sputtered in shock.

His tail thumped once against the floor. “Well, I did not imagine you wished to smell my tail!”

The very thought made Nanami redden from her neck to the tips of her ears. Considering that was the alternative, this was fairly tame. So she took his head in her heads and leaned in. Tentatively, she breathed in the scent of his hair, right at the base of one of his ears. Again, a tingle of recognition shuddered through her, but it was just out of reach.

Frustrated, she made the move on her own this time, burying her nose into the velvet fur at the base of his ear. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on regaining her memories. It just wouldn’t come to her, she thought.

“I can’t—” she began, but another voice interrupted them.

“Nanami-san, is everything all right—?” Mikage clipped the last word short, freezing in the doorway. “Oh…I’m very sorry to have interrupted!”

For a few beats, both Tomoe and Nanami gaped at Mikage, their spines rigid. Of all the things for Mikage to walk in on… Tomoe bit back a groan, his cheeks flushing. “We were only—”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Nanami shrieked, shoving Tomoe’s shoulders and falling backwards at the same time. She only just managed to catch herself. “I was…I thought I was remembering something when I smelled him, so I just thought…” Fresh humiliation overtook her, and she buried her face in her hands. “Ugh! Never mind!”

Mikage smiled awkwardly, placing his hand on the door. “I was going to ask you how you were feeling about removing Ryou’s eye, but your memories are more important. I’ll just close the door…”

Just as Mikage started to slide the door closed, Nanami whipped her head up, reaching a hand out. “Wait! I can’t remember anything anyway! And I promise I’m not going to try anything crazy to get it back or anything!”

Tomoe exchanged a glance with Mikage. Based on the confusion furrowing Mikage’s brow, he was just as lost as Tomoe was. She had already said this much was weird, so he couldn’t even begin to fathom what was going on in her imagination.

As for Nanami, she continued babbling. “We probably should remove the eye anyway. I’m fine, honest!”

Smiling weakly, Mikage said, “Why don’t I give you some time to calm down first?”

“I don’t need to calm down!” Frantically, she waved her hands. “I’m perfectly fine!”

“Ah…” Mikage laughed nervously. “Why don’t you take twenty minutes? I’ll be in the kitchen if you want to talk.”

Before Nanami could protest again, Mikage had slid the door shut. She could hear his hurried footsteps heading down the hallway, and she placed her hands at her cheeks, moaning a bit. Great, now Mikage thought she was a weirdo, she thought miserably.

“Thanks a lot,” she grumbled with a pout. “Now Mikage thinks I’m a freak.”

His ears slicked backwards. “And you believe I am happy with this? Mikage is one of the only gods I truly respect!” Groaning, he dropped his head in his hand, his ears now drooping sideways. “Now he has seen me behaving like a wild animal.”

“What? So you do think it’s weird!” She pointed her forefinger at him. “See? I told you it was weird!”

His cheeks flamed. “It is not strange; it is simply not civilized! I may act as feral as I please around you, but around just anyone?”

“I’m the one who was sniffing you!” she retorted. “So I’m the one who looks feral!” Suddenly feeling drained, she sank deeper into her seat, her legs splayed, knees facing each other. “Ugh, I can’t believe this. How am I gonna face him again?”

“Well, we cannot remain here for the rest of eternity,” Tomoe droned, eyes half lidding.

A nervous titter escaped her, and she tilted her head slightly. “Are you sure you can’t remove the eye on your own?”

“I cannot sense it like Mikage can, apparently,” he muttered. “Besides, he will be able to provide you more healing than I can. It simply is not in my jurisdiction.”

A longer moan left Nanami. “This is the worst.” Then, glancing at Tomoe, a rush of awkwardness washed over her. The longer that they stayed alone in this room together, behind closed doors, the more it would seem plausible that they were engaging in another activity to unearth her memories. In a high-pitched voice, she said, “Um, can you leave? They’re gonna think we’re doing something bad!”

His lip curled slightly, although inside, he was stung. “It is not bad,” he grumbled.

“Well, whatever! They’re gonna think we’re doing it! So please just go!”

It took all of his self-control not to roll his eyes at her. He didn’t have enough self-control not to speak his mind, however. “How juvenile. Doing it.” He snorted, but got to his feet all the same. “Very well. I will leave you to think. Just promise you will not drown yourself in your humiliation.”

She waved him off. “Okay, okay! Can I please just be alone?”

A sigh collapsed his chest, and he slid open the door. “Very well. You know where to find me.”

She didn’t, but she didn’t press him on it. Instead, she stared unblinkingly at him until he left the room and shut the door behind him. Only then could she exhale the tension she’d harbored in all of her limbs.

What a headache. She sank to the floor, resting her head, only to find remnants of his scent clinging to her. It was then that she realized — she’d never given his haori back.

—

In the twenty minutes that Mikage had told her to take, Nanami remained holed up in her room. Most of that time was spent wallowing in her embarrassment, in replaying the scene over and over in her head. It was only when she saw what time it was that she realized Mikage was expecting her to have considered her heartiness. But she didn’t need to think about it. She knew she wanted this guy’s eye out of her right now and, besides, she felt fine.

Still, it took her some self encouragement for her to gather the courage to leave her room and face Mikage after being such an uncomfortable spectacle. After approaching Mikage again, he agreed to remove the eye from her body, an endeavor which left her more drained than she’d warranted. It was a difficult removal, to the point he’d had no choice but to put her to sleep, assuring her it was only temporary and he and Tomoe would carry it out as quickly as possible. It must’ve been glued to her life force, because when she awoke in her futon, she was exhausted and her lower ribs ached.

Groaning, she shifted amongst the covers. The rustling of sheets wasn’t the only sound — to her right, there was the soft brush of something against the floor. Opening her eyes, she was met by the flash of ethereal amethyst, feline pupils locked on hers. A small shriek caught in her throat and her heart rate spiked. She lunged backwards and nearly kicked over the water that had been placed at her bedside.

“It is only me,” Tomoe grumbled, his eyes half lidding, solemnity playing on his lips. He rested his chin in his palm, knees pulled up, intense stare never leaving her.

“How long have you been there?” Nanami asked, eyes wide. “You weren’t watching me sleep, were you?”

His lip curled and his ears flattened. “No. I came to check on you and you happened to be stirring.” His ears lifted, and he gestured towards the glass she’d nearly knocked over. “I brought you some water.”

“Thanks, but I’m not thirsty—” she began.

“You should drink. You were asleep for twenty-two hours,” he interrupted.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my god!”

So she’d been a burden to him yet again. Here she was leeching off of his care and consideration instead of chasing down more important matters or caring for herself. Again, the thought flitted through her mind that she didn’t know why she was so special to him.

He lifted the glass and held it out to her. “Drink. Mizuki and I will fix your breakfast.”

Here, she sat up and then winced, her ribs twinging. Sucking in a breath, her hand instinctively fluttered to the bottom of her ribcage, tender fingers touching it. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt.”

“We did not think it would,” Tomoe said, a flicker of sympathy on his brow. “It was deeply ingrained in your body. It had become part of you.”

“So you basically performed surgery on me,” she griped, then accepted the water, taking a long drink.

His ears laid back. “Essentially.” He fell silent, his tail swishing back and forth, his eyes losing some of their luster. What he didn’t tell her was how sick she’d been afterward, how he’d stayed up all night fretting over her. A part of him had worried he’d made a mistake, that she would die because of him. But the color had come back to her cheeks and she was talking back to him, so she must’ve been recovering.

That look on his face froze her in her tracks, and she found that she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. It was clear he held himself back, that he wanted to be close to her, and it stirred that same heavy feeling in the center of her chest. After a tense pause, she asked, “Did you get it out, though?”

“Yes,” he said, then reached into the folds of his kimono. His fingers brushed against the smooth, miniature glass bottle Mikage had stored the eye in, and he withdrew it to show her. Crouching closer to her bedside, he shook it in her face, watching her eyes cross. The movement rolled the eye in the bottle, grotesque. “This is what was in your body.”

Snatching the bottle, she held it up to inspect it, her eyes widening. “It’s so tiny! Is he really this small?”

A stunned silence. And then, he couldn’t help the boisterous laugh that left him, this twin tingle of pleasure and amusement. She flinched at the sound, shooting him a cool look. “No,” he said between laughs, taking the bottle away from her and tucking it in his kimono. “It seems five hundred years has worn the eye down. If it had been passed any further, it would be no larger than a grain of sand.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said, shuddering. It hit her just then that that thing had been inside her body, and she felt her stomach churn. “Ugh, I don’t think I want breakfast,” she moaned.

His laughter ceased, ears pricking up in alarm. “Are you ill?”

“Yeah, because that thing was in my body,” she complained. “It’s really gross!”

“Well, you still must eat,” he said, straightening up and turning. “I will bring you—” He’d barely spoken before there was the sound of covers being tossed and the thump of clumsy, bare feet hitting the floor. Ears slicking back, he whirled around. “Excuse me! Where do you think you are going?”

She hissed in pain as she stood, one hand coming to her ribcage. The very thought of him continuing to go out of his way for her when she was awake and perfectly capable of managing was too much. He’d already done enough for her. A pout pursed her lips and her eyes flashed in determination. “To the kitchen. I’ve pretty much recovered so you don’t have to do all that stuff on your own anymore.”

The look on her face didn’t bode well. Oh, dear gods. He’d forgotten what a terror she could be. “Now wait a moment, Nanami.” He caught her arm before she could barrel past him. Easy, he told himself as she stiffened under his touch. “You are in no shape to barge in like you usually do. If you must be out of bed, be gentle with yourself.” That would be unlikely, he thought with a grimace; she was so reckless.

Initially, his sudden movement had startled her, leaving her bracing herself. An instant later, she noticed how gentle his gaze was, how warm his hand felt on her arm. Her heart rate came down as she realized he hadn’t been accosting her. His grip on her arm was careful, considerate, his claws positioned over the heel of his hand instead of her skin. For a moment, she found herself staring into his eyes, mesmerized by the way he looked at her. It would’ve been far too easy for her to resign herself to him, she realized, her breath catching.

With a shake of her arm, she pried herself free, shattering the spell he held over her. “I’ll just take a painkiller and I’ll be fine.” She offered him a smile, pressing her palms together. “I’m just sore, right?”

“Well, not exactly—”

By now, she wasn’t even listening. “We have to return the eye, anyway.” She opened the door and stepped out.

Eyes wide, mouth twisted sharply, Tomoe drifted after her. “We? You cannot be serious.” He frowned, stopping behind her in the kitchen, ignoring Mikage and Mizuki. “You are not going anywhere in that state.”

She opened a cabinet, pulling down a cup. “I can’t help but feel kind of responsible…”

“How are you responsible? You did not do anything,” Tomoe said, staring at her for a moment. Then, he shook his head. Just as she began to rifle through the cabinets for cookware, he stepped behind her and put his hands over hers. “Stop. Let me.” As her dark eyes locked with his, he sighed. “You let Mizuki cook for you, don’t you? Then why are you so resistant to me helping you?”

Her face felt warmer and she shook his touch off. Now she couldn’t look at him. “I feel weird,” she mumbled.

“That is what you always say,” he said under his breath, but decided now wasn’t the time to pursue it. Giving her a stern look, he said, “Sit with Mikage. Mizuki and I will cook. And then you go back to bed.”

Her ribs hurt too much to protest so she loosened her grip on the cookware and set it on the counter. Defeated, she slunk to the table and delicately perched on a cushion, her back to Tomoe. He was being kind to her, and she knew she wasn’t being fair in return. But every time she tried to consider his feelings, it seemed to backfire somehow. Now she’d worn herself out, and had no choice but to accept his help. For now, she sank in her seat and crawled into her head.

Despite that, she refused to let him go on his own to return the eye. If he’d stolen from Ryuo, then there wouldn’t be a welcoming committee rolled out for him. And no matter what their feelings for each other were, she couldn’t let him walk into that alone. She’d protect him as much as he tried to protect her.

—

It had taken a lot of patience on Tomoe’s part to wait until Nanami’s guard had lowered. Perhaps she didn’t realize just how well he knew her, but just that one comment about them both returning the eye was enough proof that she would tag along given the chance. He didn’t plan to give her that chance. So he’d played the role of caretaker and servant, hoping she’d relax and go to bed, that she’d think he’d given up on it. Not so.

Even if he was the god of deceit, it was surprisingly easy to throw her off. All he had to do was act relaxed and domestic, emulating Mizuki’s subservience, and she went back to bed of her own accord. He continued to clean until he was sure she wouldn’t come out, and then he put his cloth down and stepped deeper into the shrine to find Mikage.

The other god pored over a stack of prayers at his desk, brush in hand. Tomoe leaned in the doorway and waited until the intent crease in his brow smoothed and he looked up with the hint of a smile. “Ah, Tomoe. Do you need something?”

With this permission, Tomoe sauntered into the room and sat by Mikage. With a flick of his wrist, he brought a soundproof barrier over them, because the last thing he needed was for Nanami to eavesdrop. It wasn’t lost on him how Mikage flinched, and the sudden scent of salt tipped him off to his anxiety.

“Oh, please, I am not that type of fox anymore,” Tomoe said, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in irritation. Mikage’s shoulders remained tense, but he looked Tomoe in the eye. “I will make this quick. I am going to find Ryuo. If Nanami awakens and asks where I am, tell her I have gone to the store to buy groceries for dinner. Tell her I am making her favorite since she is so under the weather.”

Mikage blinked, dismay settling on his mouth. “Why do I have to tell her? You could wake her and let her know.”

He shook his head. “We are bound spiritually. She can see through my illusions. The contract does not allow me to lie to her so blatantly.” He drew in a breath and then let it out slowly. “Can you do that?”

Mikage shifted. “I’m not fond of the idea.”

Of course, Tomoe thought, his ears laying back. Mikage was a moral kami. “Well, Mizuki will not do it,” he shot back. If only Hisoka were here; he would’ve done it.

“I’m sorry, Tomoe. I can’t lie to her.”

Tomoe stood, tail sweeping in a wider motion. “Then would you tell her where I had gone?” He paused, watching the god blink at him, and then he groaned. It didn’t matter. If Mikage didn’t answer, Nanami would figure it out. For all her lack of academics, she was shrewd when it came to practical matters. “Never mind. I suppose it is good enough that someone knows where I am in case I do not return.”

Annoyed, he snapped his wrist and the barrier came down. He bowed his head slightly, reverent, and then left Mikage’s study. At least Mikage was consistent. He could respect him for that much.

It seemed he didn’t have to worry about anyone lying to Nanami, because no sooner had he stepped out on the veranda than he caught the scrape of a door opening. That sounded like the door to Nanami’s room. Hurriedly, he retrieved an enchanted leaf, aiming to hide himself, but he wasn’t quick enough.

“Tomoe,” Nanami called, crossing the room, “are we gonna go soon?” She paused to pull her shoes on, her eyes locked on him.

Tomoe cursed the fact it was a straightshot view from her room through the main area of the shrine. If only he’d transformed in Mikage’s study; he was such a fool. “Go where?” he asked coolly.

“To find Ryuo,” she said, that same stubborn pout adorning her upper lip.

“You should not go,” he began.

“I’m going.”

“No, you are not.” Tomoe twirled the stem of the leaf between a finger and a thumb. “This is not up for debate, Nanami.”

If she let him go on his own, he was bound to walk straight into trouble, she thought, her heart lodging in her throat. Worry snaked around her ribs, and she again considered how little she’d been able to provide him in return. Maybe he was a more powerful god than her, but that didn’t mean she was helpless, unable to do anything to protect him. It didn’t matter how much his version of transportation scared her either. She had to be brave for his sake.

Deciding to leave before she could stick her head in it, he dropped the leaf on the top of his head to transform to a spirit state. With his free hand, he flicked another leaf into the air to create a spirit portal directly to the mononoke world, one she wouldn’t be able to cross. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shift, and the floorboards creaked as she stepped forward. The very moment he felt his body lighten and scatter, he felt a weight pass through him — and then a secondary energy intertwined with his own.

Oh, no.

Before he had absorbed it, he was already in the portal and had hopped forward twice. This did not bode well at all.

Chapter Text

By the time Tomoe could bring them to a stop, they were at the portal to the coast. Irritated, he released his transformation — revealing his stowaway. He narrowed his eyes at Nanami, who clung to his haori, shaken. She probably hadn’t expected to be turned into spirit form with him.

“Well, now that you have dragged yourself into this, I hope you are pleased with yourself,” he grumbled, ears laid back against his skull.

Before he could say another word, she burst out, “I couldn’t just let you go alone!”

There was that stubborn pout of hers. Carefully, he pried her hands from his haori. “I know you mean well but, Nanami, this is dangerous. I am going to take you home.”

As he reached into his sleeve, likely for another enchanted leaf, Nanami felt a surge of concern. She grasped the end of his sleeve, staring up at him with pleading eyes. “No, please let me come with you. I’m really worried about what’ll happen if you go by yourself!”

He stared down at her, slack-jawed. “And what would you do if I were to walk into trouble? You do not even know Ryuo, and he does not know you either.”

“I’d…I’d think of something!” she insisted, even though she stumbled over her words.

Beyond the determination and stubbornness that flashed in her eyes, he could see her silently begging him, could sense the worry emanating from her. A long sigh escaped him. If he continued to deny her, she would only keep pressing, he thought with a grimace. Still, he tried one more tactic.

“If you come with me, then I will have to focus on protecting you. Ryuo has an entire army at his disposal, and I have no doubt that he will use their full force.” Here, he caught Nanami’s chin between a thumb and a forefinger, leaning in slightly. “I cannot guarantee your safety in such a scenario, and I doubt that our contract would allow me to bring you into such a situation either.”

As his voice lowered, softening around the edges, Nanami swallowed hard. The way he looked at her made her heart skip, especially when he was so close, when he touched her so easily. For other people, this might have felt like a fairytale — a princess protected by a knight in shining armor. But, for Nanami, his words only highlighted how crucial it was for her to come along.

“If that’s true — that he has an army — then it’s all the more reason you shouldn’t go alone,” she said, tone firm. “You should have someone watch your back, shouldn’t you?”

He should’ve known better, he thought, swallowing back his groan. Of course Nanami would only be more determined to go after such a statement. Inwardly, he kicked himself. “I would prefer if you did not,” he growled.

“And I’d prefer if you didn’t go alone!” she retorted.

For a long moment, the two of them stared each other down, unblinking. Her gaze pierced him so sharply he felt like it sliced his very soul. That wouldn’t have been quite enough, but the slight quiver of her lips and her stifled breathing revealed her true feelings. The deeper he looked into her eyes, the more he saw her concern, her plea for him not to go alone. It wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t say no when she looked at him like that.

Besides, knowing Nanami, she would’ve latched onto him and held on the whole time they sank to the bottom of the ocean. There was no reasoning with her.

“Fine,” he growled, ears laying back again. He leaned closer to her face, frown twisting his mouth. “But you stay close to me and don’t stick your head in this. Do not get involved.”

Nanami didn’t reply, only stared him down, clutching his sleeve. Because he might get hurt, she couldn’t make any promises. It seemed he was on a self-imposed deadline, because he turned towards the ocean and walked into the surf, the foam lapping at his ankles. There, he stopped and turned over his shoulder to look at her, a hefty sigh streaming out.

“You cannot breathe underwater.”

This was something she hadn’t considered. A frown furrowed her brow as she hummed in thought. “You’re a powerful god, right? Can’t you do something?”

He groaned. There was one thing he could do, but he didn’t want to do it. It was just asking for trouble. She’d barged her way into this, though, and due to a lack of other ideas, he found his feet walking further into the surf. “I will call a taxi.”

“An underwater taxi?” She blinked, and then a smile flickered on her lips. Now she was really curious. “That’s incredible!”

This time, he managed to stifle his groan. Poor, naive Nanami. Instead of saying anything, he continued his descent, following the slope until he reached a steeper drop. Before he sank into the ocean, he shot a glance over his shoulder to be sure Nanami had stayed put. Good.

“Now you wait there. I will be right back.”

She offered a wan smile, that familiar anxiety gnawing at her stomach. Maybe it was her sense of duty, but she felt this strange sort of overprotectiveness as she watched Tomoe disappear beneath the surface of the water. Even if he didn’t have to breathe, it still made her uncomfortable. She shifted at the edge of the surf, arms crossed and hugging herself as she waited.

Several long, painful minutes ticked by. She was about to give up and jump into the water but then the surface rippled and a splash followed. Tomoe emerged, and he wasn’t alone. Bobbing on the surface of the water was a large sea turtle with a palanquin strapped to its back. Her eyes widened as Tomoe stepped calmly from the sea, flicking some water from the tip of his tail. A flash of blue surrounded him so quickly she would’ve missed it had she blinked, and then he was dry. She stared.

“Come, Nanami. I managed to procure a ride.”

What he didn’t tell her was how he’d done it. Maintaining his bewitching spell over the turtle would only take them so far. The real trouble would begin once they arrived at Ryugu Palace. No matter that he was stronger than Ryuo; it would still be a pain to fight him.

For now, he snapped a cool gaze in her direction, eyes flashing and pupils narrow, frown pulling his mouth. “Are you coming?”

She shook herself from her daze. She’d been so enthralled by this giant sea turtle and the fact Tomoe had stepped out of the ocean dry, that she hadn’t heard him. “Oh, yes, please.” She clasped her hands and beamed up at him.

His ears lowered sideways. It was difficult to be annoyed with her when she looked at him like that. Regardless of her feelings for him, he still held that same tenderness for her. “Then allow me.” He swept her up in one arm, perching her on his shoulder, and walked back into the ocean, hoisting her high above the breakers. “A goddess should not dirty her feet.”

A deep blush spread across her cheeks. Somehow, she’d expected him to be rude about her kami status — at least, at first. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.” She offered a smile, one that faltered when his eyes flickered to meet hers and she caught the glimpse of something deep, fleeting, soft. Quickly, she looked away, breath catching.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, holding her above the surface of the water as they came to the turtle’s side.

Ears laying back, he planted careful hands at her sides and passed her through the barrier of the palanquin. Then, with a gentle burst of foxfire, he floated up and passed through as well, settling elegantly on a cushioned bench across from her. Shutting his eyes, he threaded his fingers through his long hair, working out a few tangles that had appeared from the underwater currents.

This whole time, Nanami whipped her head this way and that, taking it all in. The interior of the palanquin was fit for royalty, the seats soft as clouds, allowing her to sink deeply into the cushions, the upholstery silken with delicate patterns in rich colors. Gauzy curtains framed the circular windows, the glass shimmering and, if one looked close enough, wavering like sunlight at the bottom of the seabed. Dark wood framed the windows, ornate latticework decorating the openings and the doors. And the more she took it in, the more she wondered if this was not just a taxi, but a royal palanquin.

“This is so beautiful,” she said as she turned towards the window, watching the water swell to meet them. “It’s just like the stories say.”

“Stories come from somewhere,” Tomoe said, nonchalant, working out another knot.

He watched his fingers, aware of Nanami’s untainted wonder out of his peripheral vision. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but lift his gaze to take in her wide, shining eyes, her flushed cheeks, the expression of awe on her face. A quiet smile flickered over his mouth, his heart missing a beat.

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his mouth. “How I missed that smile of yours,” he said, heart aching slightly, his eyes softening further.

Stunned, she turned her head and their eyes locked, his expression making her heart jump to her throat. She didn’t understand it, but she smiled at him all the same, feeling warmer just from the kind way he regarded her.

A silent sigh of relief left him as Nanami turned her attention back out the window, transfixed by the sea foam and bubbles that rose over the window, gradually replaced by the deep blue of the ocean. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Resting his chin in his palm, he stared out the window as well, his ears twitching as they popped, the pressure increasing. He would’ve remained quiet had Nanami not spoken.

“Tomoe?” She kept her hands at the arm of the seat, once more turning her head to look at him. Once he hummed in questioning, she continued. “Thank you for going to the trouble. I know I made you take me, but you didn’t have to do this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what this was, but then he realized she meant the taxi. She was easily impressed, he thought. But then again, she hadn’t spent much time in the spirit world — and she’d grown up destitute. She wasn’t used to such fantastical and fine displays.

“Well, I would not have taken you straight to the ocean floor. That would have been terrifying for a human,” he said, his eyes half lidding. “You cannot breathe.”

He recalled how she’d reacted as they’d gone to Tatara Swamp, and he couldn’t help but find it funny contrasting her reaction then to this. Just as he opened his mouth to mention it, he stopped — because it struck him that her fears might have been triggered by the trauma she’d gone through. This reaction was pure, unbridled — so very Nanami. It occurred to him then that perhaps he didn’t know her well after all, because he’d seen so very little of this Nanami. Most of their relationship had blossomed after that incident, even because of that it. He bit down on a claw, brow furrowing.

A hundred tiny bubbles flitted past the window, silver, flashing schools of fish moving along the currents just outside the barrier and attracting his attention. He watched them wave back and forth, swirling upwards in a coordinated dance, his thoughts drifting, an unsettled rocking in the pit of his stomach.

So much had changed because of Jigoku. The only reason he and Mizuki were family now was because of the respect they earned for each other during that time. He and Nanami had been close already thanks to the thread, the contract, the spell the gods had placed on them, the alignment of their souls from his possession in Kyoto — but it hadn’t been until that incident that true trust had been forged. He’d gone to hell for this woman, had fought tooth and nail and risked his life, had brought her back from the dead. It was a sobering thought to realize how much of their relationship, how much of their day-to-day interactions, had been built on top of that foundation. His mouth went dry.

Barely aware of Tomoe’s silence, Nanami’s wide eyes trained on the manta rays and bluefin that lazily ambled through the placid water. It was relaxing, just like being at her favorite aquarium, and she could’ve watched for hours. Something about this place was far more beautiful than what she’d imagined the ocean to be like — but she realized quickly it was because what she saw was the spirit plane. Movement caught her eye, and upon seeing a squid, she sat up straighter, a small noise escaping her.

“Look, Tomoe, a squid!” She pointed.

Her voice tore him from his thoughts, and her excitement caught him so off guard he couldn’t help the laugh that left him. “You say that as though you have never seen one.”

“Not in the ocean! I wish I had a camera—” It was here she turned to look at him, and she cut herself off. Something about the smile tugging the corner of his mouth, the unfocused and faraway look in his eyes, seemed hollow. She turned from the window, leaning forward. When she spoke again, it was softer. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” His eyes settled on hers, pupils enlarging. “Yes, I was only thinking.”

“Oh, you looked sad.” She tilted her head, offering another smile. “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me. Just because I don’t remember you doesn’t mean I’m not here for you.”

He blinked. Once again, she reminded him that she’d always been truly kind and tender-hearted, that her initial response to people was to open her arms and nurture them. For a long time, he’d thought that the way she’d reacted to him had been because of the pressure the gods had put on her, the stories that she’d heard about him. Now he saw the truth — it had been his fault for being so cold to her, for not doing more to prove her wrong.

This side of her — her ability to accept others wholeheartedly — was her greatest strength. And her greatest weakness.

Once again, he couldn’t help his honesty, his heart aching for her. “My sweet Nanami. You are too kind for your own good.”

At first, she had no idea what to say to that, but he still had this air of sadness surrounding him. Once the shock had receded, she took his hand in both of hers and gave it a squeeze, beaming up at him. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve been nice to me.”

His expression of love for her died on his tongue. Instead, he smiled and touched delicate fingertips to her wrist, the only affectionate gesture he afforded himself. “Enjoy the sights. You can look at me anytime.”

With a feeble smile, she squeezed his hand once more, and then turned to stare out the window at the multi-colored shimmers of scales mesmerizing her to silence.

—

Some time later, during their descent, the palace came into view, stretching wide across a leveled area of ocean floor. Nanami all but pressed against the window, eyes enlarging as they swirled in a circle over the buildings, giving her a full view of the spectacular sight. The main structure was tiered, terraces stretching the perimeter of several of the layers, and sloping, curved roofs of tile sat atop each building. Archways cut through solid stone and, as they came closer, she noticed the same ornate patterns as the latticework carved into the smooth exterior, palatial columns adorning the corners.

The taxi thumped softly on the seabed, a cloud of sand rising and dissipating into hidden currents. Out of the corner of her eye, Nanami saw Tomoe stand, so she did as well. “How are we gonna get out?” she asked, grasping the edge of his sleeve. “Will I be able to breathe?”

Hanging his head a bit, eyes falling shut, he sighed. Right. That was the downside to this Nanami — she was painfully naive, and her maturity had reverted. Instead of calling it out, he laid a hand on the top of her head. “You will be able to breathe in the palace. It is like Himemiko’s palace. There are barriers to keep the water out.”

That didn’t solve how they’d manage the trek from the taxi to the palace, however. It had been a while since he’d been here, so he couldn’t say how it’d changed. First, he held up a finger, and then he slipped through the barrier of the palanquin. Floating through the water, haori drifting behind him, he made his way to the perimeter of the palace. The water rippled there, wavering, and he realized — it was a barrier.

After confirming it, he swam up to the palanquin again, back to Nanami’s anxiously eager eyes. She was chomping at the bit to get out, he thought. But she wouldn’t like passing through the ocean to get to it — and the weight of the water would be uncomfortable for her. With that in mind, he tapped into his god powers and formed a barrier around himself in a bubble of blue light. With another flick of his wrist, he filtered out the water, and breathed air into it. Reaching through the surface of the bubble and then the barrier of the palanquin, he offered Nanami his hand. Their eyes locked, and she didn’t even hesitate to place her hand in his.

His hand was warm, she thought, holding onto it tightly, allowing him to pull her through the taxi’s barrier into the orb of glowing blue light. At first, she’d held her breath just out of instinct, but then she’d caught sight of his smirk and the thin atmosphere offered no resistance. It was air. Jaw dropping, she stared up, down, to the sides, holding his hand the whole time.

“You could’ve done this all along?”

“Yes, but that would not have been comfortable for you,” he said, running his free hand through his hair, eyes shutting momentarily. “Besides, travelling in style is much nicer, don’t you think?”

Mouth dry, she nodded, and the bubble floated towards the palace. She turned her head, staring out into cerulean that stretched as far as the eye could see, out until the minuscule debris and tiny creatures shrouded visibility into an unknown murkiness. She was still staring into the distance when a sudden pop surrounded her, and the air pressure changed. A small shriek caught in her throat but she landed safely in Tomoe’s arms, and she relaxed.

Tomoe set her on her feet. This was where things got tricky. Already, he could smell Ryou’s sea slug guards emitting chemical alerts into the atmosphere, warning of an intruder. Grimacing, he laid a hand between Nanami’s shoulder blades. “We are in for a tense confrontation,” he warned her. “Stay close.”

Nanami nodded and peered up at him, finding his jaw set and eyes hardened, gaze twitching from one end of the palace to the other, seeming to fix on entities she couldn’t see. Shifting a little closer to him, she allowed his touch, hyper aware of that warm, gentle weight on her back. Somehow, she felt safer with him there.

“Ryuo must be pretty mad at you, huh?” she asked suddenly, drawing a flick of a glance from him. “Maybe it’s better if I give him the eye instead.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t agree. I will not have you going inside alone.” Automatically, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her close to his side, squeezing her. “We are surrounded and it is not safe for you.”

“Please let me help you,” she begged, staring up at his face. Even if she didn’t remember enough to have feelings for him per se, he was her husband and she couldn’t help but harbor a soft spot for him, that spark of warmth growing in her chest the kinder he was to her. “If the stories are true, Ryuo’s stronger than you—”

At this, Tomoe burst a laugh. “Hardly,” he interrupted. “I am as powerful as Ookuninushi.”

“Still, I think you should wait in the taxi,” she pressed. To this, he didn’t respond, instead walking with her towards the palace again.

He wasn’t going to change his mind, Nanami thought, her stomach flip-flopping. And, despite his claims that he was as powerful as the head god of earth, Nanami didn’t want to take the chance. If he did this, then they couldn’t solve it peacefully.

Impulse seized her, and she took him off guard while he scanned the horizon. A deft hand slipped into the fold of his kimono, where she’d seen him stow the bottle. Before he could react, she snatched it away from him. His reflexes were too quick, and she’d hardly gotten hold of it before his hand snaked around her wrist.

“Don’t you dare—” he began, eyes fixed on her.

A half-crack, half-hiss pierced through the air. Whiplike tentacles shot out of the sand and wrapped around him in a flash. There was another splitting sound, this time electric and stinging, and before Tomoe could push past the shock, the sensation coursing sharply through his body, a poof of smoke surrounded him and he felt his body rearranging itself of its own accord. The next thing he knew, a sucking sensation like a vacuum surrounded him, and then absolute silence.

What the hell? His entire being felt cramped, like it was closed in on itself, dense and packed and unable to move. Panic rose swiftly but as the wave rippled through him, he realized it hadn’t affected his heartbeat because he had no heartbeat. They’d turned him into spirit form, he realized in horror. And they had him so tightly bound — his being crammed into a space so small he couldn’t even fit in it without spilling over himself uncomfortably — that he couldn’t break free. In that moment, he knew true claustrophobia. Damn Nanami.

“Tomoe!” Nanami shrieked, horror coursing through her body. He had warned her, she thought, beginning to breathe quicker, clutching the bottle to her chest. But she had never thought he would get hurt because of her.

As the smoke cleared, she found herself face to face with another yokai, this one with an eyepatch and long, dusty lavender hair, fins at the sides of his head, and horns curling around what seemed to be his ears. Unconsciously, she took a small step back, eyes wide.

“Who are you?” she blurted out. “And what did you do with Tomoe?”

The man caught an iridescent pearl that had floated in the air. He slipped it into his jacket and shifted his visible eye to her. A guffaw escaped him. “You don’t know who I am?” A short pause, but he didn’t give her a chance to do more than draw in a breath and part her lips. “And you’re the wife of that pesky fox, too.”

A deep frown furrowed her brow. She held the bottle a little tighter. Now that the surprise faded, she noticed the eyepatch covered his right eye, and realization clicked. “You’re Ryuo, aren’t you?”

His shoulders relaxed. “Hm, it seems you do know who I am after all.”

She pouted, eyes wide, and then bowed to him, holding out the bottle. “We came to return your eye. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Tomoe had done that.”

A hum vibrated in Ryuo’s throat, and the air was still between them. Peeking up, Nanami noticed he hadn’t moved, instead stroking his chin and staring at the bottle. Realizing her hand obscured the view of what was inside, she thrust it out towards him. Finally, he accepted it from her, and she straightened up.

Anxiety clenched in her stomach. “You have your eye back. So can I please have Tomoe?” She clasped her hands at her chest. “I promise he won’t do it again.”

Ryuo lifted an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to just hand Tomoe back to you?” He guffawed again. Then, expression growing serious, he held up the bottle and shook it. Snappishly, he said, “Do you think this is enough?”

“Why not? You’re getting it back!” she cried out.

“You cannot be serious.” He huffed. “Tomoe rampaged the north gate of the palace and killed my guards. He scratched out my eye and left a nasty scar on my face.” Here, he leaned into Nanami’s face, but she stood her ground, not so much as blinking despite his intimidation tactics. “And just look at my eye.” He dangled the bottle in front of her. “You think I can use it now? Look at the condition it’s in.”

Her frown faded. He had valid points. Glancing at the bottle, she grimaced. “It is pretty tiny,” she mumbled.

“Exactly. It’s not like if I stick it in it’ll grow back.” He slipped the bottle into his jacket. “But, hey, thanks for trying.” He laid a hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair. “Don’t look so upset. You’re better off without that fox anyway.”

Despite having only known him for such a short time — during which she’d been unconscious for part of it — she couldn’t just leave her partner stranded. He’d been so kind and nurturing towards her, and he’d repented from his murderous ways. As Ryuo turned around, she spoke. “Give him back. It was his idea to remove the eye from my body. He’s changed.”

This brought Ryuo to a stop, and he looked over his shoulder. “It was in your body?” He smirked. “So you’re his lover’s descendent?” A laugh burst from him. “Wow. You couldn’t make this up.”

Even if Ryou had imprisoned her husband in a pearl, Nanami didn’t get the vibe he was a bad person. What Tomoe had done sounded egregious, and it made sense for Ryuo to want justice. To him, it didn’t matter if Tomoe had changed or not; Ryuo wanted to punish him. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, stepping forward. “I know I can’t make up for him killing your guards, but there has to be something you want. I just want to take him home.” 

“And what if he decides he wants my other eye?” Ryuo snapped. “There’s nothing stopping him from trying.”

He wouldn’t believe that Tomoe had changed, she realized, heart lodging in her throat. Desperate, she said, “I don’t think he’d do that, but we’re bound by a familiar contract so he can’t do those things anymore. Even if he wanted to.”

Ryuo lifted an eyebrow. “So you love your husband, huh?”

Nanami hesitated. She was afraid if she didn’t say yes that Ryuo would never let him go. So she clasped her hands and nodded, mouth dry.

He seemed to be thinking. Then: “I can’t give him back, but you can stay here to be with your beloved.” He gave her a toothy smirk. “That’s my only offer.”

Her heart started pounding. Her, stay here in the depths of the ocean? Instantly, her friends and life back home flashed through her mind. They’d all be worried sick if she didn’t return. But Tomoe had devoted himself to her. And, knowing how the familiar contract worked for Mizuki, she deduced that to him, she was his priority. Being his wife, shouldn’t he be her priority too? That made up her mind.

“I’ll stay,” she stammered after a moment, determination flashing in her eyes. “Until you release him.”

“Ha! Good luck with that,” he said. Then, turning, he walked towards the palace entrance. Snapping his fingers, a pink sea slug inched from out of the shadows of the eave. “Show the kami-sama to a guest room. Make sure she’s comfortable.”

The slug bowed its head, and then looked at Nanami expectantly. Not knowing what else to say, she said, “Um, thank you.” Ryuo didn’t respond to this, and she didn’t get a chance to ask why he was being nice to her. For now, she followed the slug servant wordlessly. Maybe if she bought some time, she’d come up with a plan to bring Tomoe home.

Chapter Text

Nanami’s temporary lodgings turned out to be more than the humble room she’d been imagining. Instead, it was a full suite, complete with the biggest bed she’d ever seen and double, glass sliding doors that opened to a balcony with a full view of the ocean beyond. The door clicked softly behind her as the slug left her to her own devices, and she wandered farther into the room, inspecting her quarters.

The decor was a sophisticated nautical theme, the walls painted a pale blue, tasteful prints of colorful corals decorating the walls. There must’ve been ten cushions littering the bed, gauzy, silken curtains tied back to the headboard and a serene ocean scene in the painting above the bed. In addition to the coral lamps, there were white nightstands, a white dresser, and a wardrobe. When she opened it, she found an array of kimonos at her disposal, ranging from sea greens to fresh whites to deep blues.

Shutting the wardrobe, she stepped through the doorway to reveal a luxurious bathroom with a jacuzzi tub and a shower that was big enough for two people. The walls were cream, the tiles bright white with flecks of silver and gold. Touching a towel, she found it was plush, the fluffiest towel she’d ever felt.

Leaving the bathroom, she wandered into the next room, finding a panoramic view of the ocean and the grounds awaiting her, one wall a panel of windows which overlooked another balcony. On the opposite wall was a kitchenette with white cabinets, ivory tiled floors reminiscent of sand, and a small, round table. Curious, she opened the refrigerator to find it was fully stocked. There was a living area with a couch and chairs, and a bookcase filled with volumes of leather bound books. 

For a moment, she stood in the middle of the room and gawked, feeling out of place. What struck her was how they’d seemed prepared for her to stay. She wondered if these items were at her disposal, or if she needed permission first. Then again, if she was meant to stay for a while, then she didn’t have a choice — she didn’t have any of her own things.

This would’ve been a lovely place to stay if the circumstances weren’t so rotten, she thought with a heavy sigh. “Right,” she said aloud to herself, frowning, hitting her fist into her palm. “I have to focus.”

She wandered to the panoramic window and, much to her surprise, found that her hand slipped through when she touched the glass. Seeing how she could retract it inside again, she felt safe enough to step out onto the balcony. She might as well take in the view while she brainstormed.

For a while, she sat in the cushioned, hanging lounge chair, deep in thought. Ryuo didn’t seem interested in striking a deal with her, which made things more difficult. What was more, he had the pearl with Tomoe’s soul. Maybe he’d put it somewhere else for a while. He couldn’t hold onto it at all times, she reasoned; she only needed to figure out where he’d keep him and use a spell to sneak in unnoticed.

That was it, she thought, eyes lighting up. If she could get her hands on ofuda, then she’d be able to find Tomoe and make herself invisible so she could steal him away. Now came the tricky part — actually getting hold of ofuda. She didn’t have any on her, nor did she have a brush. A long sigh left her. It felt like she was back at square one.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, idly swaying the chair back and forth, deep in thought. None of the scenarios she came up with seemed plausible; she couldn’t leave the palace when they were so deep in the ocean — not without help anyway. Based on what Ryuo had said, she would be free to go if she asked, but the problem was coming back. She didn’t know how Tomoe had hailed the turtle taxi, after all.

She was still in her head when a light, airy bell rang from behind her. Sitting up straighter, she stared into the windows, wondering if she’d imagined it. It came again, from just inside her suite. She hopped down from the chair and shifted through the glass, following the sound to the door.

Opening it, she found a handsomely dressed fish yokai awaiting her. He bowed. “Kami-sama, Ryuo-sama and Kamehime have requested your presence at dinner.”

Maybe she should use this as an opportunity to negotiate, she thought. Even though it didn’t seem like Ryuo would be open to it, she should at least try. She didn’t hesitate to accept. “I’ll come,” she agreed. Then, glancing towards the wardrobe, she asked, “Do I need to dress formally?”

“It would be preferable,” the servant replied.

“Crap, I don’t know how to put on a kimono,” she thought, biting her lower lip. After a moment’s debate, she admitted, “Ah, I may need some help.”

“I’ll send an attendant right away,” the servant said, then bowed again. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

Just as she was closing the door, an attendant dressed in a pale blue kimono with a pink and orange coral-patterned print appeared before her. She bowed quietly, but Nanami realized she was the attendant so she let her in. It was odd how the woman didn’t speak to her even when Nanami said hello, and it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t able to speak -- at least not as humans did. Thick silence weighed on them as she undressed Nanami and then fitted her in a deep blue furisode with red-orange lotus blossoms. She put Nanami’s hair up as well, and finished by slipping a red-orange flower pin in her hair.

Once she was finished, the woman stared at her for a moment, making Nanami think there was more. The attendant stopped at the door and beckoned, so Nanami followed her down the long hallway. It felt like they traversed the entire length of the palace before they reached the dining room, the sliding doors already pushed open and welcoming her. Inside, the walls were painted with traditional scenes of cranes, blossoms, and waterscapes. Ryuo and a beautiful woman dressed in sea green awaited her at the low table, seated on cushions.

Feeling awkward, she stepped farther into the room, and the attendant bowed before sliding the door shut behind her. This was more intimate than Nanami had expected from the Dragon Lord. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” she said, bowing, trying to be polite. They had shown her hospitality, after all. That gave her hope they might let Tomoe go.

“Our pleasure,” the woman said, offering a smile. “Please, join us.”

Mouth dry, Nanami took the cushion the woman had gestured to. Glancing down, she found that food had already appeared on her plate. Suddenly, she felt tense, stomach fluttering.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” the woman said, bringing a sleeved hand to her mouth and laughing softly. “I’m Kamehime, Ryuo’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nanami said, her shoulders relaxing. The vibe the woman exuded was warm and friendly, so she had a feeling she’d be easier to sway. “I’m Nanami Momozono. I’m Tomoe’s wife.”

“Yes, Ryuo told me,” Kamehime said, sliding a cooler glance in Ryuo’s direction. Nanami noticed his body stiffen, his visible eye widening. The look she gave him could’ve killed him. Although she wondered why Kamehime looked like she might launch into Ryuo, she didn’t ask. It didn’t matter, because Kamehime divulged why when she spoke again. “I’ve told Ryuo to give up on that feud for centuries now. The last thing I want is him to fight Tomoe again and lose his other eye.”

“Ah, no, that won’t happen,” Nanami insisted, waving her hands in the air, smiling wanly. She didn’t remember everything, but decided to take a chance based on what she had seen. “Tomoe’s a lot kinder now. He was trying to make it up by returning Ryuo’s right eye.”

“Either way, I wish he wouldn’t fight him,” Kamehime continued with a stony expression. “Tomoe is a much stronger god now.” She sighed. “Let’s talk and try to enjoy dinner.”

A pause, and her hosts began to eat, so she lifted her chopsticks and followed suit. “I know Tomoe did some unforgivable things,” Nanami began between bites. “But he’s changed. I don’t like everything he did in the past either, but he’s still my husband and I still wanna take him home.”

“Ha! I finally captured that fox so I’m not giving him up.” Ryuo lifted his head, closing his eye. “I couldn’t do anything for years thanks to how powerful he is. I got lucky when he was distracted today.”

Recalling how Tomoe had told them they were surrounded, how she’d then taken advantage of his focus to steal the eye from him, Nanami blushed. It had been her fault. “I know you want to punish him — and I’m so sorry he took your eye and hurt you and rampaged your castle.” She bowed her head. “But please show him kindness. I need him at home.”

“Dear, he is her husband,” Kamehime said, tone edging on sharp. “Besides, if you hold on to that pearl long enough, he’ll find a way to break free — and then what? You’ll have angered one of the most powerful kami.”

“So? He deserves it,” Ryuo griped, putting a piece of food in his mouth. “He won’t be able to escape.”

Desperation rose inside Nanami. “I asked before but I’ll ask again — isn’t there anything I can do to buy his freedom? I want him back.”

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s a murderer,” Ryuo said, glaring at her, one fang showing. “He’ll spend the rest of his days in that pearl.”

A frustrated sound caught in Nanami’s throat. She turned her gaze to Kamehime, who seemed to be the more reasonable of the two. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

With a slight frown, Kamehime turned her attention to her husband. “I do not want to keep a kami in our home! Besides, he’s already served five hundred years. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough? It will never be enough!” Ryuo began, his voice raised. All it took was a fierce side-eye from Kamehime, however, and he snapped his mouth shut.

Wide-eyed, Nanami switched her gaze from Kamehime to Ryuo and back again. It did strike her as odd that Kamehime defended Tomoe after he’d disfigured her husband, but she supposed it could really be as simple as she’d said. Kamehime didn’t want to incur godly wrath upon them.

“He has left us alone,” Kamehime said firmly. “You know I don’t want you starting any new fights. It would be best if you accepted the tochigami’s offer.”

A scowl etched into Ryuo’s brow, and he was silent for a long moment. His expression reminded Nanami of a toddler who wasn’t getting his way. During the entirety of this tense moment, Kamehime fixed her gaze on Ryuo, scarcely blinking at all. Finally, a disgruntled sound rumbled in Ryuo’s throat, and then he sighed.

“All right,” Ryuo said, reluctant. “But I won’t free him without you doing something for me!”

Nanami’s heart leapt. “What is it? I’ll do anything!” She clasped her hands at her chest, barely breathing.

Although Nanami couldn’t be certain, she thought she saw the ghost of a smirk at the corners of Ryuo’s mouth. “The other day, I lost one of the tide jewels. If you find it, I’ll let Tomoe go.”

Here, both Kamehime and Nanami gasped in unison. “How did that happen?” Nanami blurted out.

“Every season I take them out and infuse them with fresh energy. Since winter’s coming, I took them into the garden to draw energy from the ocean.” Here, Ryuo grimaced. “But one of the turtles lost control and tore through the barrier, and a stray current swept the manju jewel away.”

“Dear!” Kamehime replied, horrified.

He sighed and placed a hand on the side of his head. “I sent the royal guard out to find it but so far we’ve turned up empty handed.”

“So the tide isn’t working?” Nanami asked with huge eyes.

“No, the tide is out until we can find it,” he replied.

“That could be pretty bad, huh?” Nanami touched her forefingers together.

Ryuo frowned. “It’s not just pretty bad — it’s a disaster. The balance of the whole ocean is at stake.”

Although Nanami wanted to ask why he’d seemed so calm earlier, Kamehime beat her to it. “So why were you in such a good mood when this had happened? Shouldn’t you be out looking for it?”

“Oh, I’m in a good mood because I finally captured that fox!” he replied, inflating with pride. “This is a victorious day—”

“Ryuo!” Kamehime snapped, her eyes flashing. “This is no time for your personal feud! Finding the manju is too important to put off!”

Before Kamehime could pounce her husband — which looked like would happen given how Ryuo cringed — Nanami found her voice. “I’ll do it.” Both paused to look at her. “I’ll find it and bring it back since the eye wasn’t enough.”

“This is an impossible task,” Kamehime insisted. “Nanami-sama, this is something Ryuo should handle. He knows the currents better than anyone.”

“But if it’s the way to get Tomoe back—”

Kamehime shook her head. “How are you going to breathe? It’s somewhere out there underwater. It’s dangerous.”

“I have something that might just do the trick,” Ryuo said with a smirk, forefinger and thumb at his chin. Somehow, Nanami got the feeling she wouldn’t like it. Just that expression made her stomach twist into knots. She set her chopsticks down, stalling by drinking tea. “The leader of the mermaids, Unari, gave me an elixir in return for my help.” He waved a hand and a painted enamel bottle appeared. Snatching it out of the air, he shook it, eliciting the sound of sloshing liquid.

Although wary, Nanami asked, “What’s that?”

“This is a special elixir made from the teardrops of mermaids and a single drop of the water of evolution,” he told her.

“The water of evolution?”

“Normally, that water would either evolve or devolve you. But it was used in this recipe to give whoever drinks it the ability to become a mermaid.”

“Uh…” Nanami stuffed a piece of fish in her mouth, her nerves fraying. They wanted her to become a mermaid? Somehow, she had the feeling it wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, especially if she was stuck in that state. How would she look after Tomoe? How would she care for the shrine? “It can be reversed, right?”

“Yes, if you drink the water of evolution.” Ryuo placed the bottle on the table before Nanami.

Her heart thumped as she stared at the bottle for a long moment. They had said it could be reversed. “Do you have the water of evolution here?”

“No,” Kamehime said before Ryuo could do more than open his mouth. “You’d have to travel to Okinawa and see Unari. But she’s not fond of visitors.” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t, Nanami-sama. I’ll convince my husband to let Tomoe go. Isn’t that right?” She shot a glare in Ryuo’s direction.

“He and I aren’t fighting right now. That’s what you hate most,” Ryuo complained. “He can’t scar my face when he’s stuck in that pearl.”

It seemed an argument was about to break out, so Nanami snatched the bottle and held onto it tightly. “I’ll drink it,” she said. “After I find the manju jewel and free Tomoe, I’ll go to Unari and get the water of evolution.”

Concern furrowed Kamehime’s brow. “It won’t be that easy—” she warned.

Nanami shook her head, jaw set. “I’ll do it for Tomoe. He’s my husband. Besides, it’s my fault he’s trapped because I distracted him.”

Guilt settled thickly in the pit of Nanami’s stomach, and she felt a wave of pity. Her thoughts rushed back to the things he’d done for her the last two days — cooking her breakfast, sitting by her side when she was sick, putting her comfort and safety first… He had been such a good husband, had shown her more genuine kindness than she’d thought she’d ever received. The thought of him being trapped in that pearl forever made her stomach rock, her heart clenching. Poor Tomoe.

“It’s getting dark,” Kamehime said. “At least stay the night and wait until the morning.”

Nanami hesitated. As much as she wanted to protest and drink it now, she had to admit it was a good idea to wait until visibility was better. “All right,” she relented. “But I’ll leave first thing. In the meantime, I want to send a message to my familiar.”

“We can arrange that,” Kamehime agreed, offering a smile and nodding. “What would you like to say to your shinshi?”

Tightening the grip around the neck of the bottle, she said, “Please tell him I’m down here and I need him to cover for me at work and school. And please tell him not to worry about me because I’ll be home soon.”

—

As Nanami had promised, she retired to her suite after dinner and got ready for bed right away. It felt wrong to enjoy the bath when Tomoe was trapped in a pearl, but the water felt so nice and the jets massaged her to putty. By the time she’d finished bathing, she was fully relaxed, and she set her alarm for sunrise the next morning. Mercifully, after that saltwater jacuzzi, she was tired enough to sleep.

The next morning, she started with a quick breakfast she cooked in the suite. She’d barely finished her morning routine when that same ringing sound came from the door, revealing a sea slug servant who’d come to collect her. He led her to the entrance of the palace and then outside, where Ryuo awaited her with a clamshell in one hand.

“Good morning,” she said, though his expression said he wasn’t having a good morning.

“Morning,” he said gruffly. “Before I let you loose, I wanted you to see what the jewels look like.” Here, he opened the clamshell, revealing a plush, blue interior and a golden pink pearl tucked inside. As Ryuo pulled it out, it caught the light, flashing different colors — green, deep purple, blue, orange.

A small gasp escaped Nanami. “It’s so beautiful!”

Taking Nanami’s hand, he placed the jewel in her palm, and she gasped again. She could feel it — a sensation like a vacuum, like she was being pulled. It was a strange sort of magnetic energy, something powerful and untamed. As she watched, it shifted colors, the energy and sensations in her palm changing with it. It was so mesmerizing she didn’t even notice her surroundings until Ryuo took it back.

“The manju will look and feel a lot like the kanju. The main difference is it’ll feel like a push instead of a pull,” he explained, fitting the jewel back in its place.

“Got it.” Nanami said, nodding. Then, as he snapped the shell shut, she added, “I’m ready to drink the elixir now.”

“Not so fast.” Ryuo’s expression morphed to something serious, almost even sullen. “There are two things you should understand.” He held up a finger. “One, the ocean can be very dangerous. Just because I rule over it doesn’t mean there aren’t sections that other yokai or kami oversee. They can still choose to hurt you, and I can’t do anything about that.” Ignoring Nanami’s wide eyes, he held up a second finger. “Two, just because I got the elixir from Unari doesn’t mean she’ll give you the water of evolution. More than likely, she’ll turn you away.”

“Oh…” Nanami swallowed hard, and she swore she could feel herself going pale. She really, really did not want to be stuck as a mermaid. But the alternative just wasn’t acceptable. No matter how it made her feel, she couldn’t abandon Tomoe and leave him to suffer.

Besides, she told herself, she could always live in the pond at Tomoe’s shrine.

Tone full of conviction, she asked, “Even if I’m stuck as a mermaid, will you still let Tomoe free? As long as I give you the manju?”

A growl caught in Ryuo’s throat. It was clear he really didn’t want to, but perhaps Kamehime had nagged him about it because he said, “Yeah, I’ll let him go.”

“And forgive him?” Nanami tacked on, leaning a little closer.

“Now wait a minute—” Ryuo began, voice raised — but then he stopped, seeing the determined furrow of Nanami’s brow and her laser vision boring holes through him. A few seconds elapsed during which conflict clouded his features, but Nanami refused to back down. At last, he released a defeated sigh. “All right, fine. If you can promise to keep him under control, I’ll let it go.”

“I promise,” Nanami said, although her stomach flipped. If she became a mermaid, she wondered if Tomoe would be released from the familiar contract — or if she’d see him or any of the others ever again.

A dry laugh. “Fine, you got a deal.” Ryuo handed her the bottle. “One sip is all you need.”

Nodding, Nanami popped the swing top and then lifted it to her lips. A beat; she took a deep breath. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed a small amount. Quickly, she capped it and handed it to Ryuo. After all, she feared she’d drop it as an awful freezing, tingling sensation spread through her body, emanating from her stomach. It coursed through her veins and suddenly her bones began to ache. Breathing felt different too, like the air flooded her lungs in deeper capacity with even the smallest inhale.

“Ohoho, that stuff packs a punch,” Ryuo said with a grin, one fang showing. “All right, we’d better get you out of the barrier before you’re stranded on dry land.”

“What?” she squeaked, voice tight.

He took her by the arms and then pushed her through the barrier, out into the deep. As the water surrounded her, the weight of a whole ocean bearing down on her, panic rose in her throat, constricting her chest. Bubbles rose as an involuntary scream left her, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d lost precious air. Her heart felt like it’d come out of her chest, and regret sank sickly in every inch of her being.

A shiver wracked her as her body ached again, the worst pain seeping into her chest, her spine, her legs. It felt like her body was reconstructing itself. Then a flurry of bubbles and foam engulfed her, a flash of teal light blinding her. When the light faded, she drew in a breath effortlessly, no longer feeling like she was drowning. At first, she tried to take a step and a splash sounded behind her, her body jolting forward and turning off balance. She floated for a moment, and tried again. Something flapped.

Turning to look over her shoulder, she gasped — there, behind her, was a deep, teal tail complete with fins. The currents swayed her hair around, and as she brushed it back, she found it was much longer than it had been before. The water caressed every inch of her skin with silken tenderness, leaving her to feel unrestricted. Then it hit her — she was naked. Horrified, she folded her arms over her chest, darting forward, wondering if Ryuo had seen her breasts. A quick peek over her shoulder revealed his blasé expression as he watched her; he didn’t seem bothered or impressed. This must be normal for mermaids then, she thought.

“What are you looking at me for?” Ryuo asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on. Find the manju.”

He really didn’t care about her breasts, she realized, her face still hot. Before she could ask for a swimsuit top or something to cover herself, he’d already turned around and walked out of hearing range. An angry noise caught in her throat, the sound garbled by the water yet slowly growing clearer and clearer.

“Can I talk underwater?” she said aloud, and then her breath hitched as she heard herself speaking. A hand fluttered to her throat. “Oh, wow.”

For a moment, she flipped her new tail around and tested swimming. Although she was clumsy at first, flopping around and struggling, the elixir kicked in and it became easier and easier. Soon, she was able to dart forward with a speed she hadn’t known was possible, zig-zag, even swim loops. A laugh escaped her, and she thought about how this would’ve been a dream come true if she’d been a child.

Then, she stilled, staring up at the depth of water overhead. She was so far from the surface. That sobered her up, and she shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to play around. Tomoe needed her help. With fresh determination, she swam into that expanse of blue before her, riding the current. Even if she was stuck as a mermaid forever, she’d find the tide jewel. She silently swore to Tomoe that she’d save him.

Chapter Text

Nanami had been swimming for what felt like hours with no luck. Despite riding along the currents, swimming was a workout, and even if she had a mermaid’s body, she was sorely out of shape. Worse, she realized then that she didn’t know how to get back to Ryugu Palace or where she’d go if she had to spend the night somewhere. Suddenly, this all seemed very impulsive.

Discouraged, she floated from the current, down to the ocean floor where an outcropping of rock and coral provided a safe haven for a break. Since leaving the palace, she’d seen several sharks, but they’d always kept their distance. Still, she didn’t want to catch one’s attention while resting. She nestled between the rocks and the fiery red and orange sea fans, taking a moment to catch her breath.

Pulling her tail up, she wrapped her arms around it and rested her chin where her knees had once been. Her stomach hurt, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since that morning. Even if she hadn’t necessarily needed to eat as a yokai, it still brought to attention how ill-prepared she was for this journey. Now she didn’t know where she was or what she should do.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she told herself, drawing in deep breaths. “Stay calm and think.” 

Just telling herself not to panic didn’t do a whole lot of good, and her breaths came faster, that stinging sensation building behind her eyes. How was she supposed to save Tomoe if she couldn’t even find her way out of here? A whimper caught in her throat.

As she was on the verge of crying, a large, dark shadow passed overhead. She froze, heart in her mouth and every muscle tight. Although every inch of her body screamed that it didn’t want to look, she forced her eyes up. She wished she hadn’t. Above her, rippling back and forth through the water like a gigantic ribbon, was a hybrid creature — something between a dragon and an eel. No matter which way she looked, the body stretched as far as the eye could see. Clapping her hands over her mouth, she stifled her whimper, bordering on hyperventilation.

Thick, dark, inky clouds filtered down from its body. She flicked her gaze this way and that, looking for shelter, but there was none. She darted to the side as the water darkened, clouding over, but the substance was too pervasive. It oozed onto her body, heavy and suffocating, the weight of it pushing her down to the ocean floor. She struggled, trying to move, scratching at the sand, the coarse grains aggravating the tender skin beneath her fingernails.

Ryuo had tried to warn her, she thought, blinking rapidly. But she hadn’t listened. A small sob caught in her throat, and she frantically dug into the sand, all to no avail. She would die here, she thought as the goo continued to fall, piling up around her. While she could still move her arms, she protected her head, attempting to create a pocket of water so she could breathe. It grew smaller and smaller, leaving her to thrash and struggle.

Whoosh. A powerful current shot through the water with such force it cut straight through the substance. She froze. What kind of horror was she in for now? There was the strong sound of water being displaced, as though something large had turned around, and then the current passed by again. This continued for several more rounds, until something large swept across her back, eliciting a scream from her. Her water pocket was almost gone, replaced by the goo. Just as she thought all hope was lost, an oversized, forked tongue swept the goo from her arms and head. She sucked in a greedy, hitching breath.

“Nanami-chan!”

That voice. Her heart skipped a beat. She shot up from the ocean floor while she could move, a sob escaping her. Sure enough, hovering above her was the largest snake shikigami she’d ever seen — with her familiar commanding it. “Mizuki!” She stretched out an arm towards him, another sob catching in her throat.

Rushing to meet her, Mizuki stretched out as well and grasped her hand, pulling her onto the back of the snake. It was only then that she remembered she was a mermaid and she was naked, and she quickly arranged her hair in her best effort to hide her breasts from him. He didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Oh, Nanami-chan!” he cried, enfolding her in a bear hug. “I was so worried.” As he fussed over her, the snake shikigami floated them out from under the larger sea serpent, racing through the waters to escape the substance.

“Mizuki,” Nanami sobbed again, wrapping her arms just as tightly around his waist, half-burying her face in his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Mizuki told her, petting her hair as she cried, shaking in his arms.

“What was that thing?” she sniffed, digging her fingers into the back of his kimono.

“That was the ikuchi,” he said. “It’s a nasty sea serpent that sinks ships.” Before she could ask what it was doing there, Mizuki asked in a concerned tone, “Where’s Tomoe-kun?”

He wasn’t going to mention her being a mermaid? That would’ve been the first question she would’ve asked, but knowing him, he was much more worried over the fact that she’d been left on her own. “He was captured by Ryuo,” she said, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Oh, Mizuki, it’s all my fault! I distracted him by taking the eye. I thought if I gave it to Ryuo instead, then Tomoe would be safe, but the very thing I was trying to prevent happened because of me.” She hung her head, shoulders drooping.

Mizuki’s brows knitted together. “Oh...” Another pause. “Is that why you’re a mermaid? Is this Ryuo’s punishment?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s so I can breathe underwater.” She looked into his eyes, noticing the worry shining in them. “I turned myself into a mermaid so I could find the manju. Ryuo lost it and said if I could find it, then he’d return Tomoe.”

A punctuated sigh escaped Mizuki and his face darkened. “Really.” A statement, not a question.

That expression made her stomach rock uncomfortably. “What?”

He shut his eyes, shaking his head. “Ryuo gave you a task that might take years to finish. He was trying to get rid of you,” he explained. “You’re amazing, Nanami-chan, and I know if anyone can find it, it’s you — but the ocean is so big.”

“You really think it would go that far?” she asked with a squeak.

He nodded. “If it got caught in a current, yeah. Or a fish could’ve swallowed it—”

A small shriek caught in her throat, eyes huge. “I hope not!” A moan escaped her. “What am I gonna do? I feel like I messed everything up.”

Patting her head, he sighed again, sympathy flickering over his features. “It’s okay. I’m here to help now. We’ll find it together.” He beamed at her in what she suspected was an attempt to reassure her.

“Did you take care of work and school?” she asked, the realization striking her like lightning. “I don’t wanna repeat my third year!”

“Yeah, Hisoka’s got it covered.” Before she could ask who Hisoka was, his face lit up. “Oh! That’s Tomoe’s shinshi. He’s a shapeshifter too.”

“Oh.” She relaxed again. Then: “How are we gonna find the jewel?”

Mizuki hummed, touching a forefinger to his lower lip. “Do you know what happened to it?”

“Ryuo said a turtle broke open the barrier around the palace and it was swept away by the current,” she explained.

Here, Mizuki nodded, humming again and tapping his lips. “Well, I think you need to go to the mermaids,” he said, contemplative, faraway. “They can help you find it faster than we can on our own. Especially because I think there’s only one current that could’ve swept it away from Ryugu Palace, so unless a fish swallowed it, that should give us a hint.”

Nanami gulped. She hoped that hadn’t happened. “Okay, then let’s go to the mermaids.”

Mizuki flicked a glance at her and mused, “We have to go to Okinawa.”

Nanami leaned her head back, bemoaning. “That could take forever.”

A smirk flickered over Mizuki’s mouth, his eyes snake-like and glittering. “I can get you there fast. Leave it to me, Nanami-chan.”

—

What Mizuki meant by getting there fast actually meant riding the snake shikigami at top speed through the water, so quickly that he had to hold Nanami so she wouldn’t go flying off. Her hair whipped around uncomfortably the whole time, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut until she got used to it, her heart thundering in her ears. This was worse than the roller coaster at Mouseyland, she thought with a shudder.

Gradually, the temperature began to warm, the water shifting from slate blues to deep turquoises and teals. She’d never been to Okinawa before, and she couldn’t help but look around with marvel. Colorful creatures were abundant, yellow angelfish and iridescent schools of fish swirling past them. Carpets of coral swayed and stretched beneath them as they came to shallower waters, partitioned off by the shoals.

“It’s so beautiful,” she gushed as they slowed down, and then reached out a hand to touch light fingertips to a passing angelfish. Much to her surprise, it turned towards her palm and brushed against it, nudging the heel of her hand much like a cat would. Her eyes widened, a small squeal of delight catching in her throat. Turning to Mizuki, she said, “Look! I think it likes me!”

A small chuckle left Mizuki. “Well, you are a mermaid now. They have a special connection to sea creatures.”

“That’s pretty cool—” Nanami began, but then Tomoe’s face flashed through her mind. She could see his panic just as clearly as though she’d been in front of him at the scene all over again. A tingle of shame settled in her bones. “It’s kinda terrible to think this is all really cool when Tomoe’s trapped, huh?” She smiled sadly.

“Not really,” Mizuki said. Then, brightening up, his smile taking on its usual cheerful demeanor, he said, “Besides, who gets to be a mermaid? You should have fun.”

A blush spread across her cheeks and her stomach twisted. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, her thoughts drifting back to Tomoe. Her poor husband. He was stuck in a pearl and here she was growing giddy in Okinawa, indulging the girlish fantasy of being a mermaid.

That thought was soon chased from her mind as they dove deeper again, the ocean bed dropping. Once more, Mizuki held fast to her waist as they sped up, ensuring she wasn’t flung from the serpent’s back. She felt as though eyes were on her even though she couldn’t see anyone, but she couldn’t be sure since now they were surrounded by rocky outcroppings on either side, the craggy, underwater mountains rising above them.

Mizuki steered the shikigami to a gaping mouth of a cave, and Nanami’s breath hitched in her throat as they were shrouded in darkness. Much to her surprise, a few seconds later, her vision adjusted, their surroundings as clear as though it had been daylight. “I can see everything,” she said aloud, stunned.

“Of course you can, Nanami-chan!” Mizuki chimed behind her. “You’re a mermaid now.”

That was right, she thought, ayakashi could see in the dark. Then, she froze — wait, was she an ayakashi now? Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure anyone would have the ability to turn her back into a human, as she’d never heard of any instance where a god had transformed a yokai. 

And if she was a yokai, did that mean her familiar contract with Tomoe had been broken? Based on what she remembered, their entire marriage centered around the familiar contract. She didn’t know how she felt about Tomoe, but her stomach flip-flopped all the same, a sick sensation spreading over her. It was bad enough that he’d been locked in a pearl, but when she did free him, would he be imprisoned by the gods again?

No, she thought, grimacing. She couldn’t think like this now. What Tomoe needed was for her to be positive — and sure of her abilities.

They followed the tunnel quite a ways, and Nanami drank in the sights. She hadn’t expected to see animals down here, but fish teemed around her and sea turtles floated lazily by. Looking above, she found manta rays flapping their wings gently, like birds of the ocean. Their presence comforted her, and she discreetly touched a few more creatures, always met by gentle affection in return. A smile flickered to her lips, her eyes wide in wonder.

“We’re here,” Mizuki called, tearing her from her thoughts.

As her eyes flicked front, she spotted the striped sea snake before them for the first time. It undulated towards Mizuki, pausing for a moment, the two of them seeming to have a silent word. Then, it streaked off, leaving them. It must’ve been a guide, Nanami realized. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t noticed.

The shikigami rose, and they broke through the surface of the water. At first, Nanami gasped, expecting to be unable to breathe air. For a horrible moment, her lungs struggled to adjust, hitching. But then, some instinctive reaction of her body took over, and she found herself able to breathe normally again.

“Yeah, that’s kinda scary the first time, huh?” Mizuki asked, a smile tracing his words. “It’s okay. You can survive either way.”

Turning her head, she flashed a weak smile and nodded. The shikigami floated towards a rocky platform. As she looked around, she found they were in a grotto, a soft glow emanating from the walls. It twinkled like fairy lights, and as Mizuki stepped onto the platform and took her hand, she noticed how the ground lit up bright blue underneath his feet.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the ground.

“Phosphorescence,” he replied with a smile. “It’s made by sea sparkles.”

Eyes large, she nodded, and then took his hand as he held it out to her. Momentarily, she forgot about her tail and attempted to step onto the platform. Instantly, she slipped and started to fall, but he grabbed her other arm and caught her. With a smile, he scooped her up, carrying her bridal style to the interior of the grotto.

“What is this place?” Nanami asked in a whisper. Somehow, she had the feeling she should be quiet.

“This is where Unari lives,” Mizuki whispered back. “She’s the leader of the mermaids.”

Here, Nanami nodded, a prickle going down her spine. Ryuo had hardly prepared her for what a meeting with Unari entailed, apart from how she turned visitors away. Knowing that, Nanami couldn’t help but feel like they were trespassing. Clearly, this wasn’t a receiving area, and it felt too much like barging into someone’s home uninvited. She didn’t get a chance to speak, though, because a woman’s voice echoed throughout the grotto.

“Who dares to enter?”

Yep, they were definitely trespassing, Nanami thought, mouth going dry. Even so, she didn’t hesitate to speak. “My name is Nanami Momozono. I’m the land god of Mikage shrine.” She paused, drawing a breath. “Are you Unari?”

A pause, and then there was the sound of shuffling. “What’s a land god doing here?”

“I came to see you because Ryuo lost the manju jewel and I was hoping you could help us find it,” she replied with conviction, sitting up straighter in Mizuki’s arms.

More shuffling, and when the woman spoke again, it was wary. “You brought someone else with you.” Nanami opened her mouth, but Unari spoke over her. “Is this some trick?”

Was that an undertone of panic in her voice? Nanami blinked, lips parted for a moment. Trying to assure her, Nanami said, “No, not at all! I only brought my shinshi, Mizuki. He’s a divine snake spirit. I promise he won’t hurt you.” She and Mizuki exchanged a glance as heavy silence met them. Determined to convince her, Nanami added, “He’s really gentle and sweet, I promise!”

“Visitors aren’t allowed here, land god or not,” Unari said, her tone cold. “Leave before I have the sea throw you out!”

No matter how vehemently Unari spoke, Nanami couldn’t give up just like that. Not when Tomoe’s well-being was at stake. Not when it was her fault that he’d gotten in this situation to begin with. At the very least, she would’ve expected Unari to care about what happened to the ocean, so she had to try harder to make her understand.

“No, please wait!” Nanami cried out, desperation tinging her tone. “It’s not a prank — the sea really is in trouble! The tide hasn’t changed. Doesn’t that worry you?”

There was a long pause, during which Nanami all but held her breath. The silence and the stillness were suffocating, her anticipation teetering her on its precipice. She was certain that eyes pierced straight through her soul, and though the shadows cloaked whoever was nearby, she swore she could see a blacker silhouette in the darkness. Whoever it was exuded an inhospital aura, their very energy blocking off the area.

At long last, Unari spoke again, her tone only slightly more cordial. “If you are the god you say you are, then you should be able to enter.”

Mizuki’s voice piped up behind her, low enough to be a whisper. “That’s an invitation. Or the closest one you’ll get.”

Nanami had expected to plead her case further, to try to convince Unari to let her in, yet it seemed she’d already swayed her. Perhaps it was because Unari could feel what Nanami knew to be the truth and she was that desperate. Whatever had changed her mind, Nanami wouldn’t squander her chance. She flapped her tail fins urgently, frustrated that she couldn’t walk straight in.

“My familiar has to carry me—” she began, but the hostility increased tenfold, like a stone wall had come down between them.

“No. I will only accept you.”

Here, she turned her wide-eyed stare to Mizuki, whispering, “How do I get over there?”

At this, Mizuki offered her a mischievous smile and then the snake shikigami materialized. He set her on its back, and then stepped aside. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he assured her. “All you have to do is call my name.”

She sat sideways and nodded, even as her heart thumped nervously. The snake floated her towards the rock wall and there she discovered an opening in the side, someone’s presence just beyond. After going through a short tunnel, they came out the other side, and Nanami blinked in the brighter light. It looked like she’d come out into someone’s sitting room. There was a plush sofa against one wall, set amongst spiked corals, a coffee table in front of it. As she looked towards the opposite wall, a small gasp caught in her throat. It was fully open to the sea, but the wall of water didn’t spill into the space, instead shimmering and moving like a living, breathing being in place. Beyond, she could see the multitude of fishes and sea creatures swimming in the bright, turquoise waters, coral reefs forming a natural garden.

“So you’re the land god called Nanami?”

Whipping her head away from the sight, she found a woman with a long mermaid tail perched on a nearby stool, her head and upper body obscured by a thick, black robe of feathers. All she could make of the woman’s upper body was the horns that protruded through the robe. Her long, dark, wavy hair spilled out from beneath the feathers, her skin shimmering with scales that disappeared into a long, luxurious tail. Even with her face covered, Nanami thought she looked stunning, just like the sirens the legends spoke of.

Realizing she hadn’t answered the question, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, and you must be Unari.”

“Yes,” Unari replied. A pause, and Nanami swore Unari looked her from head to toe, her scrutinizing gaze felt rather than seen. Finally, Unari concluded, “It seems you are a god, after all. You may sit.” She gestured towards the sofa.

The snake floated Nanami to the couch, depositing her on it. Then, it slithered away, its tail disappearing into the cavern leading to the grotto. Now they were fully alone. Much to her surprise, she found a cup had materialized on the coffee table in front of her, along with an array of light snacks. Unari muttered a small word of encouragement, so she accepted the cup with a word of gratitude.

Unari spoke again. “How is it that a land god is a mermaid?”

After taking a careful sip of tea, Nanami smiled wanly. “I’m actually a human. Ryuo turned me into a mermaid so I could find the tide jewel he lost.”

A small growl escaped Unari. “That bastard. So that’s what happened to my kingdom.”

Nanami’s smile wavered. “Is it that bad?”

“Of course it’s that bad!” Unari replied snappishly. “Life as we know it depends on the tides. Without it, many of our creatures will die.”

Nanami swallowed hard. “That’s awful! How long do we have to find it?”

“We have some time. But I wouldn’t want to wait more than a week or two,” Unari griped. “I’ve been keeping it under control with my powers, but I can only do it for so long.”

If Unari had been controlling the tides here, then she must’ve been pretty powerful, Nanami thought, swallowing hard. Now it made sense why Mizuki had decided to bring her here.

“My shinshi said to ask you for your help,” Nanami said, plowing straight into the heart of the matter. “He said you could send mermaids out to look for the manju since it would take too long for one of us to find it on our own.”

“If a kami-sama can’t do it, then how do you expect my clan to be able to?” Unari set her cup down with a fierce clack. “Of course I’ll do whatever I can, but it doesn’t give me confidence for you to say you haven’t been able to find it.”

Silence hung over them, and Nanami sipped her tea, sinking lower in her seat. All she ever wanted to do was help others. Yet right now, she couldn’t think of a way to help without ofuda — and she wasn’t sure if even wooden ofuda would work underwater anyway. “I’ll do my best too,” she said, looking at where she imagined Unari’s face to be. “Maybe I’m just a human, but Ryuo captured my husband, and he said he’ll only let him go if I help him find the jewel. So…I’m not giving up.” She tightened her grip on her cup, jaw setting and gaze unwavering.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned Tomoe, because Unari stiffened. “Your husband?” Nanami nodded, and Unari murmured, “Of course. You are beautiful.”

Unari’s words confused Nanami, leaving her unsure if she should thank her or apologize. “Um, what I meant was…if you don’t believe that I want to help, then I have a personal reason for wanting to find it.” Her face fell, her eyes dropping to her cup. “I know he’s not exactly a popular guy, but he’s been very kind to me. I can’t stand to think of him being trapped in a pearl forever. I want to free him so he can come home.”

A short silence elapsed, and Nanami wondered if it had been the wrong tactic. What Unari said next took her completely off guard. “Does he love you?”

Nanami’s heart flip-flopped. Without even thinking about it, she blurted out, “Yes! He loves me very much.”

As the words faded out, Nanami felt heat rushing to her cheeks. But her declaration hadn’t been shameless; it had been the truth. She had no reason to doubt he didn’t mean every word he’d said about their relationship, because he’d shown her how he felt. What should’ve made her uncomfortable made her eyes sting, her chest aching. It was almost like her body remembered how to feel, even when she didn’t, she thought, blinking rapidly.

“How do you know?” Unari prompted, but instead of being skeptical, her tone held an air of softness that Nanami had yet to perceive from her.

“Because of the way he’s treated me,” Nanami replied without missing a beat, smiling sadly. “He takes care of me when I’m sick. He goes out of his way to respect me and make me feel comfortable. And he’s always thinking about me and my feelings.” If only she could’ve said the same about herself, she thought miserably.

“So that’s what love is,” Unari muttered under her breath, and Nanami wondered if she had been meant to hear it at all.

There was something almost pained pouring off Unari in waves, and Nanami wondered what was going on. It was all very strange, but as she took in the fabulous castle, she realized — she hadn’t heard a peep from anyone else. No sound, no movement, not even that prickling sensation of another presence. The energy in this place felt cold, weighted, grey.

“Are you all alone here?” she found herself asking, concern furrowing her brow. At this, Unari nodded, but said nothing. When Nanami spoke again, it was in softer tones, delicate. “Why? Your castle is so beautiful. You don’t want to have friends over?”

“I don’t have friends,” Unari said brusquely.

“None?” When Unari shook her head, Nanami prodded, “You don’t even have any servants?”

“I live here alone.” Unari’s tone was clipped, almost warning. Perhaps Nanami would’ve taken that as a sign not to press any farther, but then Unari burst out, “I will not show my face to a single person, not unless they are to be my husband.”

“But why not?” Nanami asked, tilting her head.

“No one wants to be around me!” Unari bit back, but the edge of anguish in her tone told Nanami she wasn’t truly angry.

“Oh, my god,” Nanami thought, one hand fluttering to her mouth, the other nearly releasing her teacup. Even though she didn’t know this woman, it was clear she was in pain, and that someone had hurt her tremendously. Being alone in this large castle, the emptiness so vast that even the smallest pindrop would’ve echoed throughout every hall, made her think back to her lonely childhood and her abandonment. She couldn’t help but wonder if this woman had been left behind too.

“I’m sorry if someone told you that,” she finally said, and then shook her head, determination flickering in her eyes. “But it’s not true! Maybe I don’t know you, but you welcomed me in and your house is so pretty. I can tell you take good care of it and everyone here. You’re even willing to do what it takes to protect your kingdom even though it’s all out of your control.”

“Oh—” Unari’s breath caught, something almost humble in her posture.

“You said visitors weren’t welcome here, but I hope you’d be open to having friends.” Nanami set her cup down.

She didn’t know much about Tomoe, but she remembered what he’d said to her — that they were friends. That was what she suspected made their marriage work — because she couldn’t imagine being in love with someone who didn’t have her back, who didn’t talk to her and stand by her side through the good and the bad. Friendship had saved her from a downward spiral she hadn’t thought she could escape from, back when Mizuki had welcomed her at the shrine and had become a fixture in her life. Back then, he’d been the stability she’d needed, the person who always encouraged her and made her feel strong even when her initial reaction was to feel weak.

Maybe that was all Unari needed — a friend.

When Unari didn’t answer, instead lifting a piece of food up under her robe, Nanami sighed silently. It didn’t feel like Unari was ignoring her — after all, tension and misery locked her posture up. Deciding to try again, Nanami said, “I’ll be your friend if you want.” She beamed. “I’m also a mermaid, so that’s okay, right? I don’t even have to look at you if you don’t want.”

“You’d want to be friends with me? But you don’t even know me.” Unari’s hand stilled in the air, surprise in her voice.

Nanami nodded. “Of course! I love making new friends, and I’d like to get to know you better.” She offered a smile. Maybe it was pushing too far too soon, but she added, “If you want, I can help you find a boyfriend. I’m the god of matchmaking.” She sucked in a little breath. “Maybe we can help each other? I can help you with your love life, and you can help me with the tide jewel?”

Perhaps it was because she’d offered a trade or perhaps it was because of the dire situation, but it only took a moment of consideration on Unari’s part. “You’d do that for me?” At this, Nanami nodded, smiling warmly. “Very well. We can work together to find the tide jewel. And I’ll accept your help.”

“Thank you—!” Nanami began, clasping her hands together and smiling widely.

“Just…” Here, Nanami could picture a soft, sad smile on an ambiguous face, clouded over by lack of imagination. “Promise me you’ll find me a man who doesn’t care what I look like. A good man. Someone gentle and kind.”

“I promise,” Nanami said, her smile widening, eyes misting over. She reached out to take one of Unari’s hands. “I’ll find the best man for you.” She gave her hand a squeeze, and in that moment, she imagined the two of them smiling at each other.

And thus, a new alliance was born.