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Chapter Text

Shinobu was in the closet of her parents bedroom for three days before the slayers found her.

Huddled tightly in the small space filled with clothes after being hastily pushed in and told to 'stay put and don't make a sound'  by Kanae, Shinobu did exactly that. Three days she spent in there, wrapped up in the fine silk of her mothers kimono that she only wore for special occasions, petrified that the monster was standing just outside, waiting for her to move, to make a single sound, so it can pounce on her and devour her just like it did her family.

She wasn't an idiot, she knew what happened outside the closet. The stink of blood and rot had seeped its way into her nose, the shrieks and howls of her family still rung in her ears...though the worst was the chewing and crunching sounds that came after the screams had stopped. She resisted the urge to yell, to cry, to vomit, to charge out towards whatever it was killing her family and do something. 

Ever the obedient little sister, however, she didn't do a thing. She stayed put and didn't make a sound, just like Kanae told her.

When the closet door is nearly ripped open, she thinks she is finally going to die, that the creature finally grew tired of waiting. She doesn't try and fight or scream, knowing it'd all be futile. She accepts her death.

A giant man stands before her, hulking over her tiny form. Buddhish chanting beads wrapped around him and tears leaking in streams from his blinded eyes, a shudder runs through her at large chained axe held in his hands. She thinks maybe his lack of sight is why it took him so long to come and kill her.

Instead of snatching her up and eating her whole, however, the man simply asks if she is safe, though his voice is thunderous he tries to keep his words soft for the clearly traumatized child. 

"Aren't you going to kill me now?"

It seems her words only make his tears flow harder, and the big man's eyebrow furrow in pure sadness and pity for the girl. He reaches his arms out, offering to pick her up. Shinobu doesn't move, she doesn't trust this giant man with a giant weapon. 

"I am a part of the demon slayer corps, you can trust me." Despite his almost pleading words, Shinobu hardly moves, so a demon killed her family, and this man was supposed to kill that demon...but he didn't.

"Mama said I shouldn't trust strangers."

She doesn't have much of a choice, even if she can outrun him she's not strong enough to push him away, and so she holds her arms up in defeat, allowing him to pick her up from under her armpits and lift her away from the carnage just outside of the closet. Immediately, before large violet eyes can wander, he pushed her head into his shoulder.

"Please, do not look. I do not wish to further your pain." The big man whispered.

Shinobu was fortunate to only see small glimpses of her slaughtered family, the dried bloodied floors that she and Kanae would play on, a pale hand bent in a horrific shape as it was trying to claw itself away, but she couldn't escape the smell. The room was stuffy, a foul coppery smell that filled her nose and overwhelmed her senses.

She knew what death smelled like now, something she'd never even imagined thinking about. 

The giant man takes her outside and places her on the ground with a gentleness she didn't know someone so large could possess. Shinobu stands alone stiffly with her hands clenched into fists at her sides while the big man goes to talk to the strange masked people in the same uniform. 

Alone. No sister to make her feel less nervous, no mother to comfort her, no father to protect her. She wants to cry, but the tears simply won't come.

Overhearing his words, her breath catches in her throat as she hears him tell the masked people to take her to the other 'kakushi' since she is orphaned, and that she may have some medical expertise from her slain parents. She doesn't know what that means, she doesn't know who they are. Pale cheeks flush red in anger, if these people were supposed to protect her, where were they three nights ago when her beloved sister and parents were viscously torn apart? How did they know she knew medicines from her parents work? Why did they not find and kill this beast before it killed them?

Shinobu stares at their backs in fury, how dare they want to take and use her so quickly after her losses. If they couldn't protect her family, then she doesn't want to be apart of them at all. Her father always said she was quick, quicker than all of the other children her age. So by the time the giant man turns to collect her, he is only left with the sight of small footprints in the dirt where she was once standing.

Shinobu is already gone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As shocking as it is, most people turn a blind eye to a starving girl in the streets.

Shinobu is thirteen now—she thinks? Time has been lost to her for a while. After running from the demon slayers three years ago, she realized quickly she had nowhere to go. At first it was hard, getting used to sleeping on the ground and rough floors instead of her bedding and scraping for food took time to get used to. 

As she got older, she found ways to survive. She was smaller than she was supposed to be due to lack of nutrition, so she could often blend into the shadows without being noticed. Sneaking into unoccupied rooms at local Inns for a night or two, bumping into strangers to grab money from their pockets, dining at busy restaurants and running off before they can come collect the bill, by the time she starts getting noticed she's already moved on to the next town. It wasn't an honest living, or an honorable one at that, and she knows that her family would be disappointed if they ever knew...but they won't ever know. She has to remind herself of that a lot, so she doesn't feel as guilty about what she does to survive.

It doesn't always work, however. Sometimes she finds herself in places where there's not enough people to take from their pockets, or the people who run the Inn's are a little too observant of a thirteen year old girl lingering around. 

She hasn't eaten in days now, or was it weeks? She can't remember for sure. Her last meal had been a bowl of rice and vegetables that was given to her by an older woman when she was traveling between towns. The older woman was polite and lived quite desolately, her husband had died of an illness years prior and they had no children, so she enjoyed the company. Even if Shinobu's company was almost silent and dry. The woman had offered her a room in exchange for help around her home, but as much as it pained her, Shinobu was gone the next morning.

She thinks she's in Asakusa now.

As she thinks of the ginger tsukudani her mother used to make, her head starts to feel heavy and her vision starts to spin. It's not very smart to not eat for as long as she does, but she couldn't burden the older woman for any longer than a night. Shinobu is afraid if she stays any longer, she'll awake to bloodied walls and the demon from so many years ago finally coming to finish her off.

The lights around her start to blur as she stumbles into the nearest wall, sliding down quite ungracefully till she lays flat against the ground. Her breathing is shallow, and she knows if she had anything in her stomach it would be thrown up due to the nausea she feels, she squeezes her eyes shut to avoid the lights that were making her head pound. 

What a terrible way to die. Laid against the dirty ground in a city surrounded by uncaring people, slowly starving until her breaths finally stop.  Cold hands suddenly touch her face, and Shinobu tries to flinch away. She doesn't have the strength to do so.

"Please, let me help you." A calm, gentle voice if overheard, and Shinobu opens her eyes.

The beautiful face of a woman, purple eyes much like her own gazing down at her, and Shinobu briefly thinks that she's an angel finally coming to take her to heaven despite her sinful deeds.

"Have I died?" She asks, hoping for it to finally be true. 

Her question is answered as an angry little man appears to the beautiful woman's side, a scowl twisted into his features, and Shinobu knows then that she is alive and this is clearly not heaven since he is here. The woman smiles lightly, a giggle that sounds as soft as a feather reaching her ears.

"No, my dear." She says.

The little angry man throws his head around, clearly stressed by some unknown thing. Shinobu thinks she sees fangs as he grits his teeth.

"Lady Tamayo, we must go now." His voice is almost as ugly as his face, Shinobu thinks to herself. The woman doesn't move, shifting to let Shinobu's head rest in her lap.

"Have you bandaged these yourself?" The beautiful mystery woman asks her, fingers skimming the bandages Shinobu had wrapped around her arms from the numerous wounds she received while traveling.

"My parents worked at a hospital before they died." She coughs out, instinctively licking her chapped lips despite her tongue being bone dry. She doesn't know why she said that, she never tells anyone anything about herself. The woman looks determined now, moving to where Shinobu could sit up and wrap her arm around her shoulder.

"Yushiro, help me carry her." She asks the angry, ugly little man.

Despite how annoyed and frustrated he looks, he obeys her quite quickly, much like a dog. Grabbing Shinobu's other arm to lift her up fully. Despite the two of them being small, they have to bend uncomfortably to reach Shinobu's height.

"We should leave her be, let her die here. She isn't our concern, Lady Tamayo." If Shinobu had the strength she'd kick that ugly little man as hard as she could, right where she knows it would hurt.

"She needs our help, Yushiro. Please, help me carry her home before the sun rises." The woman sounds frustrated now, voice rising in volume as they begin to walk somewhere Shinobu doesn't know. She begins to think of a plan, if these people do have good intentions and help her heal, then she'll have to leave as soon as she's able to walk again without blacking out. 

They carry her a short bit to a house, not without a bit of struggle though. Inside, she can smell multiple pharmaceutical products and a sweet scent. As soon as they lay her down on a plush bedding, the beautiful woman orders the little man to go get her some food as she brings water to Shinobu's lips. 

Her mind keeps her on high alert despite the woman's seemingly pure intentions, even as she nibbles on bites of her salmon and sips her tea. She looks at the woman's almost claw-like nails, and the angry little man's cat-like eyes. Something wasn't right about them, something wasn't quite human.

The woman is fretting around what Shinobu believes is an at home medical lab. Sterilizing needles, organizing certain medications... it distantly reminds Shinobu of her own parents.

"What are you?" Shinobu asks, her voice rising a bit in an accusatory tone.

The woman smiles at her, and Shinobu thinks that she must have children, since she has the same look in her eyes that her mother had. Despite her not trusting her fully, she still hands over her arm for the woman to poke with a needle. Fluids, she said, Shinobu will believe it for now.

"My name is Tamayo. I used to be a doctor, it was years ago before I lost my family, but I still practice when I—"

"No." Shinobu cuts her off, words firm as she stares them both down, "what are you."

She's in a stare down with the two of them, eyes not faltering whatsoever as the Tamayo looks guilt ridden and Yushiro looks agitated. 

"I told you we should've just left her to die." Yushiro mumbles, mostly to himself. Shinobu still hears it, and leers at the little man. Shes decided that she will kick him as soon as she has the opportunity.

As she looks over the odd pair again, something clicks in her brain. The eyes, the fangs, the claws...it's all the same things that she heard from the stories of the people who also lost their loved ones...

"You're demons?" Shinobu asks hesitantly, trying to still keep her voice strong. 

Without thinking, she grips the chopstick in her hand tighter, knowing she could at least get one good jab in before they try and eat her.

"Unfortunately, we are." Tamayo says, sadness and shame veiling over her voice as her eyes gaze down at the floor. Shinobu tenses, knowing it could all be an act.

"Though, we do not eat humans. Nor do we hurt them. We survive on donated blood." Shinobu raises an eyebrow, still not fully trusting her. “Please, let me explain everything.”

Shinobu lets her, because she has to. She can’t move, nor can she defend herself. Tamayo tells her everything, how she was turned into a demon, who the King of demons is, and her plan to defeat him. Perhaps it’s the aura of the woman calming her down, or her own vengeance telling her to help her cause, but Shinobu slowly starts to trust Tamayo.

It takes Shinobu longer than she would like to heal herself, but she doesn't mind as much, because she finds herself wanting to stay.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She's seventeen when Tamayo allows her to go on her first mission alone.

After she'd been taken in and allowed herself to finally stay somewhere, Tamayo had become a mother figure to Shinobu. Their similarities were not easy to ignore, their black hair and purple eyes let them pass as mother and daughter. She had confirmed Shinobu's thoughts and told her how she once was a mother and a wife before being turned into a demon. Yushiro was her patient years later, and she had turned him after he was dying of illness.

Despite her initial distrust of the two, Shinobu had become quite comfortable with her little found family. Tamayo taught Shinobu throughout the years, pharmaceuticals and medicines, the history of demons, and how she believes she can make a cure for demonism. Shinobu promised to help her, and since then the three had been working together.

"Shinobu, promise me you'll be careful?" Tamayo asks as she brushes down Shinobu's hair, her other hand twiddling with her kimono. She's anxious, clearly. 

The blue spider lily was rare, so rare that it was a myth to most, only few in the world had seen it, but it's a crucial ingredient for their next experiment to cure demonism. Tamayo and Yushiro could only look for it at night when it didn’t bloom, and took far longer to travel, but Shinobu could go anytime and search in the sunlight. She volunteered enthusiastically one night to go look for the flower after Tamayo's last experiment failed and there was a rumor that some had sprouted in the mountains not far from them, soon to be blooming.

"Of course! I'll be sure to stay safe, at risk of running into something as ugly as Yushiro!" Shinobu says cheerfully, hand covering her lips to hide her coy smile.

Speaking of Yushiro, he jumps up in anger at her words, flailing his arms as if he were going to fight her. Shinobu giggles at his reaction. 

"Why you little—!" He yells, voice shrill enough to break glass. 

"Yushiro, please. Shinobu is only teasing." Tamayo says, and obedient as ever, Yushiro calms down. Placing his hands in front of him like a scolded child. "Of course, Lady Tamayo. I apologize." 

"You do remember what you're looking for, yes?" Shinobu nods at Tamayo's question, the notes in her bag explain everything she'd ever need to know. 

"Yes, of course. I won't let you down. Now, please head inside before the sun rises."

Adjusting her belongings, she embraces Tamayo deeply. She knows this will keep her away for a long bit of time, and her found family will be missed dearly. Even Yushiro will be missed, as much as she loathes to admit that to herself. As she starts to walk away from their home, Shinobu spins gracefully on the tips of her toes to face them one last time before bolting away.

"And please keep that dreadful beast Chachamaru away from Fugu!"

She distantly hears Yushiro's yell of anger.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It doesn't take long for Shinobu to reach the mountains that the rumor had said. They were desolate mountains, only small homes nearby that were spread out with fairly reclusive people. By the time she reaches the snow that covered the tops like blankets, nightfall approaches.

Plopping down on a boulder not covered by the snow, Shinobu reaches for her notes, she knows that she won't find the flower for hours as they only bloom during daytime, but it doesn't hurt to study. 

A twig snaps above her, breaking the silence that she had become entranced with. Her head snaps up in surprise, and she's met with an unholy sight. 

It's so ugly she has trouble even looking at it. Scaley green skin, yellowed eyes, and four arms. It smacks its wet lips together loudly, sharp protruding teeth looking all the more dangerous.

"Oh yes, you'll be a lovely meal."

Shinobu thinks it laughs after its words, but it sounds so ugly it could've been choking from spit caught in its throat.

"I don't eat much in these mountains, but it's all worth it when a delicious girl like you stumbles upon my path." The demon claps its hands together loudly, rubbing them like a fly who found rotten food. Her lip rises in disgust, hand reaching for the small poison coated blade at her side.

"What will you taste like? Will this be the first time a man has been inside of you?" Ok, now she knows it's laughing. Of course a male demon would try and make her death as perverse as possible. Shinobu steps back firmly as the demon finally jumps down from his spot on the branches.

"Stay back." She demands, pulling out her small nichirin knife gifted to her by a slayer she met months ago and held a fondness for. The demon barks out a laugh at the blade, and Shinobu resists the urge to smile as he's unaware of the wisteria coating it. 

"Oh, I love it when they fight. It makes it all the more worth it to taste that sweet flesh." The demon pounces after his words, like a cat jumping to catch a mouse.

Shinobu has always been fast, and it's no different now as she dodges each strike the demon takes at her with its claws. She knows her defense will only last so long though, and she'll soon have to start striking back with her blade. After ducking as the demons left arm tries to swipe through her head, Shinobu reaches out and slices its gut. A long, open cut along its stomach.

Feeling victory only for a moment, as one of its claws snags her and rips through the skin of her thigh. She cries out in pain as droplets of her blood bounce off of the snow, pleading to the Gods that the poison that was on her blade will work fast. 

Not fast enough, apparently, as her wound makes her falter and its claws catch her again this time on her calf and then somewhere on her torso. She stabs at the demons scaley hands each time he reaches out towards her jumping back form. She knows the poison will work, it's always worked before, so why is it taking so long?

It seems the only way of survival now is to run to safety before she is eaten or she bleeds out. As quickly as she can in the snow and with her wounds, she bolts into the trees. She doesn't hear the demon behind her any longer, but she can spare to turn around and look in case he is.

She's bleeding, but she doesn't know from where. It's hard to breathe in the coldness of the mountains, and the blood leaking from her body doesn't help it. She hadn't felt this weak in years, and she hates it. Falling to her hands and knees as blood continues to seep through her clothes, tears also leak through her eyes. 

Shinobu doesn't want to die failing Tamayo, she doesn't want to die not avenging her family. It seems she will though, so she turns to lay on her back. Her vision blurs as she fights to keep her eyes open, at least the stars will be a good sight to see before her death.

A shadowy figure descends above her, and she sees a swirl of rainbow colors, before Shinobu finally closes her eyes.

Chapter Text

It takes Shinobu six breaths after she opens her eyes before she realizes she's not dead.

She's alive, but it feels like barely. The pain blooming from all parts of her body reminds her of that. Her head still feels heavy, but she can't just slip back into sleep, confusion nags at her like an insect buzzing around her ears. The last thing she remembered was staring at the nights sky thinking she was dying of her injuries, but now she's warm, wrapped in sheets and bandages, lying as comfortably as she can with her aching wounds. 

She should be dead, she should've bled out from all the slices the demon left in her body, or at the very least froze to death. So why didn't she? How did she get here—wherever she was, she still hadn't figured that out yet. Shinobu freezes, feeling another presence in the room, large purple eyes widening even further as she realizes she's not alone.

A man is sitting across from her.

A very large and handsome man. Staring intently like he could see straight into her soul. He sat with his legs criss crossed, like a child eager for their parent to wake up. He almost seems to brighten as he sees she's awake now, a smile gracing his features. Shinobu immediately feels unnerved by it, sitting up as quickly as she can with how badly her body aches.

Was this her savior in the mountains? She gives him a once over again, while he may look physically strong enough to save her, his pale skin looks to be unblemished, clothes made of fine comforting materials...there's not a thing out of place about him, not even a stray hair peaking out from the black and gold crown-like cap he wore. He looks as if he were one of those western dolls made of porcelain, crafted to have no flaws...A spoiled man, she thinks.

"Where am I?" She croaks out, wincing as she speaks. Her throat is quite dry, making her voice raspy and hoarse. The thin icy air didn't help her at all when she fled from her battle. She resists the urge to shiver, she hates the cold.

"You're in the home of the Eternal Paradise Faith, of course. We're a religious community that lives in these mountains." The man answers, his smile the same as his voice, carefree and calm. Shinobu looks around some more, it's quite dark, only a few lanterns lit around them but the room is large and decorated beautifully, and quite lavish too, the fine drapes and carved embellishments catch her eye—an abundance of lotus flower's in particular. She doesn't know who the Eternal Paradise Faith is, there hadn't been any word of a religious group at the town below the mountains, nor any mention of other people in the mountains at all. 

"You gave everyone quite the scare, all bloody and broken like you were." The man continues to talk, despite her eyes not being on him anymore. She briefly imagines that sight, the bloodied slashes and frost all on her skin as her arms and legs were limp. A tremble runs down her spine at the thought, and looks at the spoiled man again.

He's horrifying, but beautiful nonetheless. The dull glow of candlelight hides most of his features, but his blonde locks of hair and rainbow eyes practically shine through the darkness of the room. Shinobu feels her stomach drop a bit, she's never seen anything like him, and she cannot sit in peace knowing that.

Though her mind quickly becomes distracted, an ornate wooden tray lay in between them with a feast, so many meals in front of her she doesn't even know what half of them are, the aroma practically making her mouth water. She has no idea how long she was passed out for, but the rumbling hunger of her stomach tells her that it was quite long time. The man extends his large hand towards the food, welcoming her to it.

"I wasn't sure what you preferred, so I had the kitchens make a variety of choices for you." He explains to her, but she's not listening.

Shinobu reaches out, but her hands flinch and quickly withdrawal back to her, tucking them together in her lap. She doesn't know this man, she doesn't know if this food is safe. He's given her no reason so far to not trust him, but Shinobu has met many people whose good deeds are often covered by bad intentions. The man notices her hesitation, and lets out a humorous sigh, eyes squeezing closed as he smiles at her.

"Please, help yourself. You must be famished."

The gnawing hunger overwhelms her suspicions, and she can't help herself but to reach for the nearest bowl and utensils. Stuffing a shrimp in her mouth, it takes everything in her not to groan in satisfaction. She's felt nothing but pain and soreness since she awoke, but the warm food is a tiny piece of relief amongst all the discomfort.

"May I ask your name?" He asks, watching her happily as she eats, his chin now resting in his hand. Shinobu doesn't know why, but she doesn't like that.

It makes her uncomfortable, how he keeps his rainbow gaze on her while she's practically shoving food into her mouth like a wild beast. She decides to avoid his question, instead asking her own to feel some sort of power despite her very helpless position. 

"Was it you who saved me, in the mountains?" Swallowing a large bite, Shinobu winces as it feels heavy going down her throat. 

"Why, yes! It was. The gods had instructed me to go to the mountains, but I hadn't know why. Then all of the sudden, you showed up. You fell practically right at my feet." As he speaks, Shinobu has to keep her mind from wandering away from his words. His rainbow irises were quite distracting...blues, greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and purples all blending together to create a hypnotic look. One thing he said in particular nags at her though.

"The gods?" Shinobu asks wearily. Thin eyebrow raising up. The man looks confused for a moment, before his features turn sheepish. 

"Oh, silly me. Allow me to introduce myself." The man stands now, and Shinobu has to crane her neck to see his face. He's quite tall, taller than most men she had seen in her life. He brushes at his striped pants and red sweater like he was attempting to freshen up his appearance. 

"I am Douma. You see, I am no ordinary man. I was born with the gift to speak to the gods. I made Paradise Faith for others to come and live joyously eternally." He speaks as though he is a salesman, enthusiasm wrapped around each of his words while a permanent smile is plastered on his face.

 A spoiled, and lying con-man it seems...

"Now that you know who I am, I must ask again. What is your name?" He gracefully plops down in front of her once again, sitting on his knees and looking all the more eager. Shinobu feels unnerved again by his strange behaviors. After giving him an up and down look, she decides to comply to his request. She was in his home, eating his foods, and bandaged with his medical supplies, so her name was really the least she could give him before she departed.

"Kocho Shinobu." It’s a mutter if anything, barely audible but she knows he heard it based off of his reaction. His eyes shining and smile widening.

"Shi-no-bu…So fitting! A lovely name for such a beautiful girl." His words are cheerful and sincere. Shinobu feels her face turning pink at the compliment and the way he sounds out her name so intimately. Tucking her face away as she scoops up another large bite of rice.

"I must be going." Placing the bowl down on the tray gently, Shinobu brushes her hands against her lap. “Thank you for bandaging my wounds, and for the meal, but—“ 

"Shinobu, dear. I'm afraid I cannot allow that, your injuries are quite extensive. If I were to allow your leave, you wouldn't even make it halfway down the mountain."

Large purple eyes blink in shock as he cuts her off. This man—Douma, looks to be unapologetic as he says she cannot leave. Her should tense instinctively, he would not tell her what she could or could not do. She attempts to stand, but the pain that blossoms in her left leg as she shifts her body is too much to bear. Her vision blackens momentarily and before she can stop herself a small cry of pain escapes her lips. 

Suddenly, Douma is there. Holding her shoulders and guiding her back into a comfortable position. His touch is…cold. Hands feeling as though they’ve been held in the snow for far too long. She doesn’t have time to think about it, as his hands are gone as quickly as they came.

"It would be my pleasure if you stayed with us while you healed." 

Shinobu usually knew when she was losing a battle, particularly with Yushiro and his dreaded furry beast, but stubbornness often kept her from surrendering. In her current situation, she knew she could not fight it. She couldn’t run in the middle of the night, she could hardly keep herself sitting up to eat. Her body was torn open, and exhaustion still plagued her. Feeling quite defeated, she grumbled out her response.

"If I must."

Douma claps his large pretty hands in satisfaction, turning his body to the sliding doors to her right. His cap slides a bit with the sudden movement, and Shinobu swears she sees a peak of blood red staining his blonde lockes. Her eyebrows furrow as she tries to look further despite the darkness of the room.

"Masato!" He calls out, his voice still as cheerful as when he was speaking to her. He flicks his cap back into place as he turns back to Shinobu, smiling softly.

An older man, with greying hair and a fluffed pointed beard, enters the room quietly. He’s wearing modest clothing, a solid dark blue color, and holding a lantern with one of his hands. He comes over to the both of them, and Shinobu sees that he has a large scar on his cheek, going all the way up over his eye and into his eyebrow. She wonders what possibly could’ve given him a scar so large…perhaps a demon attack, as the slash looks much like the ones marring her own body now.

"Masato, this is Kocho Shinobu. She will be our honored guest until her wounds are healed. I expect only the best for her.” Douma introduces them. 

The man bows deeply at her, despite the fact that she was still seated. Shinobu lets out an awkward cough, she really wishes she could disappear from this situation like she has done so many times before. If it wasn’t for that idiotic demon and his razor sharp claws, she would already be gone and off of this mountain.

"Hello, Miss Kocho. It is an honor to meet you, when you're finally awake." His voice is quite deep, and a bit rumbly with age. Though it holds a small humorous note to it, like a grandpa telling stories to his grandchildren. 

"Masato has been my most trusted advisor and friend for many years now, I trust he will take care of your needs if I am not around." Douma tells her, standing once again and brushing at his pants. Locking his hands behind his back he bends at his waist to be closer to her level, even if he still towered above her. “I am afraid now that I must go now. I delayed a few ceremonies for tonight’s disciples to make sure I was here when you awoke. Please rest up, I will visit you again soon.” He gives her a smile after his words, quickly patting the top of her head like someone would a cute child. His hand moves before she can smack it away.

Giving a final smile to the older man—Masato, Douma practically glides away as if he were on ice. The room seems to get warmer as he leaves, but Shinobu thinks she’s just imagining it.

“My room is right next door, if you need anything at all, please call for me. My wife is quite the heavy sleeper, so don’t fret about waking anyone.”  

Shinobu nods at Mastao’s words, taking note of his mention of his wife. She wonders how many people truly are apart of this group, Douma had mentioned that ‘everyone’ was quite spooked at the state she was in. Surely only so many can fall for such a sham however.

“I will. Thank you.” She says, her voice not as hard as it was with Douma. Perhaps it was his normalcy, but she didn’t feel as on edge with Masato as she did with the rainbow eyed man.

As Masato departs, sliding the door closed gently and the light from his lantern disappearing. Shinobu finally lets out a breath she had been holding, her chest loosening and not feeling as tight. Without thinking she reaches towards her bag of belongings placed next to her bedding, despite the aching sensation in her arms and poking her finger on her butterfly hairpin as she fishes around, she finally pulls out what she wanted to find.

Kanae’s haori. 

It was the only thing left of her past life, she’d kept it hidden like a dirty secret from everyone. Never wearing it, because it didn’t feel right to do so. However Shinobu couldn’t help but to keep it close at all times. The butterfly pattern reminds her of the good she remembers with her family, not the blood and carnage that tainted her memories. When she’s upset, she runs her fingertips over the pinks, the greens, and the fine lines of the wings.

Clutching the haori to her chest, she gently falls back into her bedding. Everything hurts, her head is pounding and the slashes in her skin are stinging. As she drifts off to sleep, still holding her most prized possession close to her heart, she wonders if she would’ve been better off being dead with her family.

Chapter Text

Something was very wrong about the Eternal Paradise Faith. Shinobu had a horrible gut feeling from the moment she woke up there.

She still could hardly move by herself due to the slashes on her body, and it'd been almost a two weeks since Douma had saved her. She was bed bound and exhaustion was still seeping in her bones with everything she did, even something as small as picking up her bowl to eat had her feeling sore. It was infuriating to her, not knowing when she would be able to leave or even walk again on her own.

Douma was not there when she awoke in the mornings, he never was, she didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved about that. There was however, always a small group of women huddled around her every morning since she awoke. They greeted her with nothing but smiles, served her whatever she needed with no hesitation, Shinobu often felt discomfort when they did so much for her, she wasn't used to being doted on. It damaged her pride a bit, made her feel inferior when they dressed her after her baths due to her arms and legs feeling so weak, fed her meals because her fingers felt too stiff, or pinned the delicate butterfly hairpin in her hair every morning.

During the evenings is when Douma would pop up. Insisting she accompanies him on a walk around their temple, he says it would help her heal faster and not make her muscles as fatigued, while also showing her around his home and teaching her its history. The walks were a bit difficult, due to their height difference he towers over her and she cannot comfortably hold his arm without him being hunched over, but he insists that he is fine. Douma tells her he often does not have the time to go on walks until after sunset due to how many duties he has to attend to for his followers and the Gods during the day.

Even so, it seems he often seeks to spend time with her whenever he can. Coming out seemingly from nowhere during her meals to sit with her while she eats, lurking in the shadows to whisk her away from whoever was guiding her on her walks. He's quite strange, almost childlike in his mannerisms, and never showing any semblance of anger. Shinobu is unsure if she likes this...special attention. The women who prepare her baths and her meals often giggle to themselves when they mention how much their 'Great Founder' likes to see her. It makes her face turn a shade of pink, and makes her feel as if she were a little girl who had a crush on an older boy.

Shinobu learns during their time that Douma is twenty, and has led Eternal Paradise since he was a child. He's trained in tessenjutsu since he was a teenager and has exceptional talent with the golden war fans. He's traveled all around Japan but prefers to stay in the comfort of his home. He prefers the cold weather over warm and likes to talk about anything and everything just to hear his own voice. 

It also becomes clear to her that this place is more of a cult than a religious group. The followers practically kneel at Douma's feet when they see him, and their figure of worship is nothing more than statues of a man with the singular name 'Kibutsuiji'. She doesn't know how so many people can be blinded by two con-men.

Though she couldn't lie and say that the home of Eternal Paradise Faith was unsightly. It was beautiful, almost everything here was, even the followers of the so called religion. It was practically a mansion on the outside, standing on pillars above deep blue waters decorated with lotuses. Shinobu was confused the first time she had seen the outside, she had assumed they were near the snowy mountain tops where she had been traveling. She was told then that Douma had found her quite a bit away from their temple, which was lower in the mountains and closer to the forest, he had bandaged her injuries himself before bringing her back. Shinobu was surprised such a spoiled man would know how to bandage wounds.

Douma asks her as much as he tells her. He wants to know everything, from the time she was born to the exact thoughts she was having at that very moment. Shinobu keeps her answers brief, but somewhat true. She tells him that her mother, father, and sister all passed away when she was a child, though she excludes the part how they were ripped apart by a demon while she hid in a closet in the same room. She says that she lives with family now, and that they all work in pharmaceuticals and the medical field. Douma drinks in her answers like they’re water and he’s a man dying of thirst.

Shinobu doesn’t know why he wants to know so much about her, and why he wants her to know so much about him. As soon as her wounds are healed, she’ll be gone.

She bids her time and waits until she can go back to her childhood habits, fleeing in the middle of the night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Shinobu awakens at the sounds of screaming.

It's distant and faint, but a scream nonetheless. The shrill terrible noise ripped from a woman's throat, the same sound that haunted her dreams for so many years. Abruptly pushing herself up from her bedding, she winces and her muscles tense, the aching throb from her injuries still very much present. Her room is silent aside from the whirling winds from the outside.

As doubt begins to creep in that she simply imagined it, another scream is heard, just as terrified as the first one. Shinobu knows now what she heard was real and not a nightmarish figment of her mind. Something was wrong, someone was hurt, and she had to do something. Despite the discomfort, she wills herself to push through, standing up and walking as quickly as she can. 

Footsteps quickening, almost in a run now. The floors are cold against her feet, shooting sharp jolts of pain into her skin. Her wounds practically scream at her to rest, but she can't stop herself now. If someone is hurt, she can't ignore it. She can’t ignore it like she did with her family. 

Another scream now, louder as she navigates where it came from. This time however, the ear splitting sound was abruptly cut off like something—or someone—had stopped it. Shinobu slows her steps as she stands outside of the large doors where the screams had come from.

It's a room she hasn't been in before, in fact Douma strictly told her that it was off limits to her when she had tried to peek in during one of their evening walks together. It's a ceremonial room, where the gods grant disciples their advice or paradise if they were deemed ready. They could not be bothered or interrupted during this ceremony at risk of dishonoring the God's words. 

Shinobu puts Douma’s words in the back of her mind, they don’t matter if it means saving someone. Placing her ear against the cold polished wood, she tries to hear anything at all to further her reasoning of going in a room that’s off limits. The room sounds still, and aside from the sound of her own breathing and heartbeat she hears nothing. 

Right as she’s about to pull away, thinking that perhaps she got the wrong room and this one is empty, she hears something. A light thud, and what she thinks is dripping water against the floor. She presses herself against the door, desperately trying to hear anything else she can.

"Miss Kocho, what ever could you be doing out so late at night?"

Shinobu jolts at the sound of another voice, quickly recognizing it as Masato. She turns away from pressing further into the room to look at him. He stands like a statue, stiff and still, like he'd been there for far longer than she noticed. The lantern he holds is bright, but the winds make the flame flicker. It's especially cold tonight, and Shinobu is reminded of that as a chill runs down her spine.

"I—" Her voice catches in her throat, can she admit to snooping? Will she face repercussions if she does? She's unsure of the rules of this place exactly, but she doesn't think Douma would take kindly to her directly disobeying his words, even if she had a decent excuse. Masato cuts her off before she can say anything further.

"I would suggest that you go back to your bed, Miss Kocho. It is terribly cold out tonight, and our founder would have a fit if he knew you were up—" 

"I heard screaming." Shinobu says, cutting him off this time. She thinks she sees him falter, face dropping a bit in guilt, but she can't be for sure. Nevertheless, a smile is forced upon the older man's face, and he lets out a breathy laugh before shaking his head and speaking. 

"Ah, no need to worry yourself—"

"Why did I hear screaming, is someone still hurt?" She has to be persistent now, she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to but she needs answers. It was no coincidence that she heard three screams coming from this room.

"No, not at all, my dear." Masato says quickly, free hand coming up in a soothing manner. Gesturing around them, to the large wooden beams decorated in elaborate carvings and the godly statues that sit outside of the rooms, deteriorated from time.  "Unfortunately our temple is quite old, and when the winter winds are particularly harsh like they are tonight, the halls sound as if they are a symphony of women screams." 

He chuckles, expecting her to do the same. She doesn't, however, and continues to stare at him with widened untrusting eyes. While his explanation could very well make sense, Shinobu can't shake the feeling that he's lying to her to hide something more sinister. Masato sees the doubt in her features, and clears his throat to break the silence.

"It takes time to get used to. They awoke me for months after I arrived, I still at times cannot find sleep because of them." Brushing at his sleep clothes, as if to make a point. 

"I see..." Shinobu says wearily.

"Please, let me walk you back to your room, you mustn't be up like this with your wounds still healing." Masatos brown eyes flicker to the door, before he extends his arm towards her. Shinobu starts to feel the damage from her actions from the way her cuts start to burn now, and she looks down to see a speckle of red leaking through the stark white bandages on her leg. She knows how reluctant she looks as she takes Masato’s arm, and leans a bit of her weight onto the older man.

They walk in silence until they turn the corner, Shinobu briefly looks back over her shoulder at the doors, giving a final glance for anything suspicious before it disappears behind the wall. Masato starts to speak, as if he were trying to distract her thoughts from continuing.

"Forgive me if this is out of place, but I must say I am quite delighted that you are here, even under such unfortunate circumstances. Your presence is a breath of fresh air." 

Shinobu’s eyebrows furrow a bit at his words, she’s unsure why he says that. Masato has been quite the help to her the last few weeks she was here, she would think that he would see her as more of a burden than a blessing. 

"I am grateful, if Douma hadn't saved me, I am sure I would've perished, if not by my injuries then surely by the cold." It’s hard for her to admit something that makes her seem so rweak, but despite how bitter the words feel on her tongue it’s still the truth. 

"He had confided in me that the gods had spoken to him that something of great importance to him would come in the mountains that night, only he hadn't know why or what..." Masato says, and Shinobu resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You can only imagine my surprise when he came back with you in his arms."

Despite Douma’s kindness towards her, she still cannot believe he speaks to the gods. He must’ve been in that part of the mountains for some other reason, and stumbled upon her by chance. Taking the opportunity of saving her to continue his narrative of being divine for his followers.

"He believes the gods have delivered you to him as a worthy consort." 

Shinobu stumbles as she hears that, and Masato nearly drops the lantern he’s holding to steady her weight before she falls. A consort? Is he truly that foolish? Despite their age difference, Shinobu has not hidden the fact that she needs to return to her family as soon as she can. Why on earth would this man expect her to marry him?

"I have no interest in marriage, Mister Masato." Shinobu keeps her answer short, she doesn’t want to offend him. She knows Masato thinks quite highly of Douma, and wouldn’t want to anger him with her own opinion. Masato raises his eyebrows dramatically in shock.

"You don't say? You are a beautiful young woman, I would have imagined you'd have many fine young men begging to court you." His voice has a lilt of teasing, and Shinobu’s face feels warm. He reminds her much of her grandpa, her mother’s father, an old man with silver hair who liked to poke fun at everyone around him. He had passed away only a year before her parents and sister were killed.

"You flatter me." She tries to sound teasing as well, but it sounds more flat than anything. She wonders how much longer they have to walk until they reach her room.

"Oh, but I only speak the truth." Masato says, giving her a toothy grin. “May I ask why you have no interest?"

Shinobu scrunches her face as she thinks of an appropriate answer that’s not ‘I just don’t want to’. She’d never actually thought of marriage in her future, then again she thought she’d be dead by now. Her thoughts of the future now were to assist Tamayo in her cure, and to end demonism. Marriage, children…none of it was even worth thinking about.

"My mother—adoptive mother, and I are very dedicated to our work, and we believe we are close to achieving the impossible in the pharmaceutical industry. I cannot also burden myself with the thought of marriage whilst I'm so invested in my work." Shinobu explains. She wonders how he’ll take it, most men his age were traditional and didn’t agree with women preferring their work over a potential husband.

"Miss Kocho, I do believe you should reconsider this. You see, we have been pushing for our founder to marry for quite some time now, and it would be a great honor if you were his wife, the gods led you to each other." Now he sounds like a father, lecturing his child on their actions. Shinobu feels a bit disappointed in his response, but remembers that Douma is his superior in a way, and that he would defend him over taking her side any day. 

A thought pops in her head, and she thinks of the way that all of Douma’s young female followers blush and giggle at every word he says. He doesn’t seem like he is lacking options, so why express so much interest in her when so many others would take her place in a heartbeat?

"Why has he not?" Shinobu asks. Masato sighs a bit.

"Our great founder has insisted he hasn't found any one of interest, or worthiness of the gods, however this seems to have changed since he brought you here. He has doted on you." Masato stops after his words, and Shinobu recognizes that they’ve finally reached her room. A small sense of relief comes over her, this conversation was quite uncomfortable for her, but she is still unhappy with her lack of findings.

Perhaps she will ask Douma tomorrow. If it is true that he sees her in such a light, he might be more inclined to give her the truth instead of a poorly covered lie. She doesn’t want to give the man any false hope that she was interested in marrying him, but she might as well use his feelings to her advantage while she can.

Douma is quite handsome, it was one of the first things she noticed about him. He also is quite knowledgeable of the world, despite the naive and guileless act he puts on. Thinking about it, he is the perfect layout for a husband. Attractive, wealthy, intelligent—

Shinobu cuts those thoughts off immediately. Feeling stupid for even unintentionally thinking of him that way. She couldn’t marry a man who manipulates so many people just for his own benefit.

"Well, I will leave you to it, as I am quite tired myself. Please rest well, and I will see you tomorrow." Masato makes sure she is able to walk to her bedding herself, before he turns in the direction of his own room. Before he can get too far, Shinobu calls for him.

"Mister Masato?"

The older man stops, turning his head slightly to show she has his attention despite keeping his back towards her. Shinobu hesitates, shifting her footing as she leans against the frame of the doors, but the persistent feeling that something was wrong and he had lied to her still lingered in her stomach.

"What was the screaming?"

Masato stays quiet for a long while, the whipping winds being the only thing that kept the silence between them from being suffocating. He turns his head again, gazing at the empty hall in front of him, and the wind finally wins against the flame. The small light that was in the lantern diminishing until the moonlight was the only thing keeping him visible. 

"The winds, Miss Kocho...it was the winds."

Chapter Text

Time goes by much quicker when you don't realize it's passing, Shinobu realizes this after nearly three months of staying with Douma.

Her cuts are becoming scars now, the pale new flesh still tender and sore at times. Her bones no longer ached and she could finally walk without limping. She did still have trouble with stairs, or if she was standing too long her joints would throb a bit. Douma had insisted that some stay with her when he wasn't around just in case she needed help, more times than not Tsumugi was the one by Shinobu's side.

Tsumugi was an older woman, and Masato's wife. She'd first met Shinobu when she would help her in her baths when the injuries were fresh and prevented her from moving too much by herself. Shinobu hadn't even know that she was Masato's wife until recently when she saw them sharing a kiss in the gardens. The two had laughed at her shock, wondering how after all these months she'd still hadn't figured that out. They'd been married for over thirty years, and had three children. Yuzuki, the eldest girl who had left a year ago with her new husband. Ritsu, the middle boy who was becoming an advisor for Douma like his father. And finally Chiyo, the youngest girl who still resided with her parents.

Chiyo was the closest to her age, two years older than her at nineteen. She was a sweet girl, with dark brown eyes like her father and a round plump face like her mother. She and Shinobu had gotten along right away, her cheery and friendly demeanor reminded Shinobu of her deceased older sister, and her cooking skills were one of the best she's ever tasted. Chiyo's brother, Ritsu, was a bit colder in demeanor. Flat voice and harsh opinions, he had just turned twenty-two a day before Shinobu was rescued by Douma. A handsome young man, resembling more of his mother than Masato with his sharp green eyes and spiky hair, a part of him reminds her of Yushiro, a begrudging thing to admit that he was a brother to her.

And even if she would rather die than admit it, she'd even grown more fond of Douma as the time went on, she was annoyed at first when he would forcibly spend all of his free time with her, but soon it became routine to expect him at the very least twice during her day. He makes her face turn pink when he compliments her and her stomach feel as if it were full of fluttering butterflies when he smiles. She doesn't know why, or when that happened, but she's becoming more comfortable with it. She's becoming comfortable with him. Douma is not shy with expressing his affections either, he is always touching her in some way. Wrapping his arms around her petite body in a nearly suffocating hug, his hands squishing her cheeks when he calls her cute, a heavy palm on the arch of her back when they walk together in the gardens. His touch had become a comfort, something she craved and looked forward to. It had even made her reconsider her conversation she had shared with Masato. If Douma could make her feel these things, then what harm would it be to let him pursue her? Is it so terrible for a young woman to want a romance with a man? Shinobu never had the chance to have a normal life, so she indulged herself here, let herself have some freedom to fantasize.

It's not like he's exploiting his people either, most of them found refuge here after losing their homes or families. It seemed that Douma had come from generational wealth, as the temple had been built by his ancestors over a hundred years ago. Shinobu even doubts her prior dismissal of his claim of speaking to the gods. Demons exist in this world, who is she to say that he cannot speak to the gods?

She had made...friends, too, during her time here. It was a given, due to how long she had been residing alongside them, but even so Shinobu never was the social type unless it was for her own benefit. Shinobu knows in her head that she easily could've left by now, she'd fled residences in much worse conditions. At first, she had told herself it was the strange feeling that something horrible was happening with this place that kept her from leaving. Curiosity and determination (or stubbornness) to find some kind of evidence to prove herself right. 

No evidence came, however, no matter how much she looked, no matter how much she snooped in places she wasn't supposed to be, and as much as she loathed to admit she was wrong, she realized soon this was just a normal religious community. She began to think that she was just trying to convince herself that something was wrong to justify leaving as quickly as she could, to refuse and twist the kindness these people showed her to something more sinister. 

It was as if she'd forgotten what a sense of community felt like. A harsh thing to think, especially after Tamayo had been kind enough to take her in as family, the last few years it had only been the three of them, but here? Shinobu could almost imagine that it was like her parents and sister never died, that she could live normally amongst other humans. She did love the little family she had found, but Yushiro and Tamayo were demons, so there would always be that barrier between them. They can't sleep when she does, they can't eat or dine with her, they can't even spend the day with her due to their avoidance of the sun. She hadn't realized how lonely she truly was until she was here.

She hadn't given any word to Tamayo or Yushiro since she left months ago. If she ever went anywhere in the past, she always left a letter assuring them that she was alright. If they had investigated in anyway, the only thing they'd be told was that she went to the mountains, and vanished. Shinobu knows they can only assume the worst from that.

As much as she resists the thought of leaving, she knows that it has to come eventually. She cannot stay here forever when she is still determined to help Tamayo cure demonism. She also has to return to her beloved fish, Fugu.

After packing her bag, making sure to fold Kanae's haori neatly at the bottom, she goes to seek Douma out. She doesn't want to just flee without saying goodbye, Douma would say that it was impolite. When she finds him, he is speaking to a young man and his pregnant wife that had found their way to Eternal Paradise just a few weeks ago. When he spots Shinobu, his smile grows larger and he shoos them away, practically bouncing over to her.

"Great Foun—" Shinobu starts to say, Douma cuts her off with a long, slim finger placed gently on her lips.

"—Ah, ah, Douma, my dear. My followers have influenced you too much. I will be very annoyed if I have to correct you again." He chides gently. He's told her that she may call him his name a number of times, but she still has fallen into the habit of calling him 'great founder' like his followers do. Her cheeks flush a bit, a mix of embarrassment and bashfulness from his touch on her lips.

"Douma..." She corrects herself, and he nods happily at her.

"Yes! Exactly."

He offers her his arm and she takes it happily, it was about time for their evening walk in the gardens together anyway. 

"You look so pretty today, Shinobu! The blue compliments your eyes perfectly." The pink flush that seemed to permanently stay on her cheeks around him turned nearly a shade darker. It was a classic hakama set that Douma had gifted her, the dark and light blues matched the same shade of blue that swirled with the other colors in his eyes. He giggles lightly when she thanks him for the sweet compliment.

"What did you want to talk about? I know that your birthday is under a month away, perhaps we could have a celebration! You will be eighteen—" Douma says. During their walks he liked to chat, taking up most of the conversation with mindless thoughts he thought she would like to hear, sometimes Shinobu drowned out his voice with her own thoughts and would answer to whatever he said with a sweet smile and head nod. 

Shinobu can't have him chat too much today, however. It's time for her to be responsible and do the hard thing. When they reach a more secluded area of the gardens, she slithers away from his arm determinedly to stand in front of him, shoulders stiff and eyes darting away from his confused rainbow gaze.

"It's been an honor staying here, and I will be forever in your debt for saving my life...but I must inform you that I have to return to my family now." Shinobu keeps her eyes and head down as she speaks, hands locked together to avoid twiddling her fingers in anxiety, a veil of thinly concealed shame overcoming her. 

"Your family..." When she looks up through her lashes, his face is uncharacteristically blank, and Shinobu feels anxious at the sight. Douma was always so expressive, so to see him look so...empty, it felt wrong. She waits for him to say something else, to assure her that it is alright and that he will miss her, but he doesn't. His iridescent rainbow eyes feel as if they are burning her as they stare her down.

"Yes...a mother and older brother, they were expecting me back home months ago, and I haven't been able to communicate with them to let them know I am safe. I don't wish to worry them any longer." Her words are more rambles than sentences, but she wants him to look normal again. She wants him to smile at her and pat the top of her head like he always does, to gather a lock of her purple tinted hair and twirl it around his finger. Douma stays stiff and quiet, before one of his thick dark eyebrows twitches. Shinobu feels her stomach drop a bit, has she annoyed him?

"I see...though if I do recall correctly, you told me your family died years ago when you were a child?" A hint of an accusatory tone lingers with his words. Shame overcomes her, her pale face turning pink. She had told him that, hadn't she? When her guard was still up and she kept her origins brief and simple. 

"They did." Shinobu admits, quietly like a child admitting to their wrongdoings. Desperately trying to hide the tremble that threatened her voice. "After they were kil—"

She cuts herself off with a tiny gasp, the only people who knew of her family being slaughtered was Tamayo and the large blind man who was a Slayer. Douma doesn't need to know that part, the bloody stain that marred her soul. Maybe, just maybe, if they meet again in the future after her work is done then she'll tell him everything. She's unsure if he even knows of demon's existence in the world, and she doesn't want him to think that she's gone insane if she tells him. So she twists her words.

"After they passed away, I was adopted by a woman who worked at my parent's hospital, she already had a son she had adopted before me." Shinobu isn't lying, but she's not telling the truth either. That was the cover story she, Tamayo, and Yushiro often used if confronted in streets by an officer or anyone curious and bold enough to ask. 

A part of her feels like a naughty child who's telling a fib with the way Douma stares at her, but relief comes soon as his face melts into a smile, eyebrows relaxing as he assures her that he isn't upset.

"Stay one more night, please. I wish to have a celebration as a farewell before your departure." He says happily, Shinobu gets the feeling that his happiness is forced. His lips are tight and his eye twitches every few seconds. "I promise, I will allow your leave tomorrow morning." Douma bends down to her height, gathering her small hands to cradle them in his bigger ones, bringing their bodies closer together. 

"I insist." Douma smiles, so clear and sweet.

Who is she to refuse him?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chiyo throws her a wink when she places the plate down in front of her.

Shinobu isn't sure why she does that, exactly. Maybe it's because of how close she and Douma are sitting, or maybe it's because she's trying to be in the best mood she can knowing the one of her closest friends is leaving at dawn. 

Douma had gotten everyone to work as quickly as they could to throw Shinobu a goodbye celebration. The dining room was bustling with laughter and cheerful voices, all of the followers of the Eternal Paradise taking the opportunity to enjoy themselves for the night as well. Chiyo had made Shinobu’s favorite meal and told her that she was making it ‘extra special’ just for her. She hadn’t been lying either, the food tasted divine with each and every bite she ate. 

Unfortunately halfway through, Douma had to leave. Out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Masato whisper into the man’s ear. Douma apologized profusely to her, and promised that he be up at the steps of the temple to see her off at dawn. It felt…upsetting, watching his back as he left the dining area, but she tells herself that it must’ve been something important, based off of the stress lines in Masato’s features,

After Douma was gone, a group of giggling women huddled around her. Most of the girls liked to gossip, especially about men, and they would frequently ask her about her...favoritism, with Douma. They told her that'd none of them had ever seen him so smitten, or even interested for so long. It didn’t take long for them to ask her about more…intimate details. Questions that made her face flush bright red, and ones certainly didn’t know about. Shinobu shooed them away, always telling them that she and Douma were friends and not lovers. Chiyo doesn’t believe her, and frequently tells her such.

Nearly two hours pass before she realizes how late it’s becoming. She cannot travel with such little sleep, she has to move as quickly as she can to get home. With a lingering hug to Chiyo and Tsumugi, she heads to her rooms to sleep. The walk is bittersweet as she realizes this’ll be the last night she spends here, the last time she walks these halls. 

She is halfway there when she is hit with what feels like an invisible wave. Her feet stumble and she has to brace her hand against the wall to keep herself standing.  She feels hot all over. A feeling she often ignores settles deep into her belly, loud and insistent. Why this lustful feeling came so suddenly out of nowhere confuses her, her sight becomes blurry and she feels dizzy, her cunt begins to throb beneath her clothing and everything suddenly feels too tight and warm. Shinobu cannot think, her body betraying her.

And the only thing on her mind is Douma. 

Feet moving without her mind realizing, it doesn’t take her long to find his room. Or was it one of his ceremonial rooms? She isn’t sure. Pushing open the large doors, her body feels as though it is made of glass. Her fingertips tingle with every little touch, a droplet of sweat rolls down her forehead.

Her sight is blurring as she looks for Douma. The room has tall ceilings, colorful drapes, and a large purple pillow where she’d seen him sit. Shinobu’s legs start to wobble and feel like water, not even knowing if he’s here, Shinobu calls out weakly for him.

"Douma?"

The man in question seemingly pops up from nowhere, turning in confusion and letting out a small ‘eh?’ noise as he does. 

"Shinobu?" He asks worryingly. Unsure of what is happening with her. 

"Please, help me." She’s aware of how pathetic she sounds, voice now nothing but a lust filled whine. She’s leaned against the frame of the door, not trusting herself to walk to him without falling over. 

"Oh, my poor lovely girl. Come here." Douma says, sounding so soft. He holds out his arms and she meets him halfway, throwing herself into his embrace. When she feels his cool body against her own, she can’t help the moan that escapes her lips. She presses in further, her cheek smushed against his firm chest, nuzzling into him like a cat. His large palm rubs at her back, trying to soothe her, it does the opposite.

"Masato! Please tell tonight's disciples that the ceremony will have to be postponed until later." The rational part of Shinobu, that’s currently very small and pushed far far away in the back of her mind, hopes that Masato is outside of the room and doesn’t see her in her current state. Shinobu gasps as Douma gently grasps her delicate chin, his touch makes her skin burn with want.

"Shinobu, you must tell me what's wrong in order for my—" 

Using his arms as leverage to hoist herself up, she cuts off his words with a kiss. It's rough, sloppy, and more of her just rubbing her lips against his face. Nails digging into his muscular shoulders as she tries climbing up his body like some kind of animal, locking her ankles around his waist and her arms around his neck to keep them as close to face to face as they can be with their height difference.

It’s a struggle for Douma to pull her away from his lips, she’s fighting to stay as close as their bodies will let them. Instinct tells her that it’s not close enough, and that the only way to satisfy this urge would be if she could somehow crawl inside of his skin. It takes a firm hand on her jaw to keep her from continuing kissing him.

She can see realization and understanding overcome Douma’s confused features, and he shakes his head with a smile. "It looks like my followers assumed that you and I had certain intentions for your last night here.” He lets out a sigh, tilting his head as his eyes drink in her flushed features and swollen lips. "Aphrodisiacs. We were gifted them by a visitor who also had worked in pharmaceuticals. I told them to discard them, but my followers do like to have their fun."

Chiyo. Of course it was Chiyo.

She tries to push herself against him like before, to make her lips raw and swollen and bleeding, but he stops her again. A desperate cry escapes her lips, and she feels pitiful. She doesn't care that it's the aphrodisiacs making her feel this way, she wants him now. She wouldn't have come to him if she didn't want him. She tells him this over and over again. 

It didn’t take much more convincing than that.

Douma strips her of her clothing until she is bare as the day she was born. He can’t resist the temptation of her naked body, squeezing her breast and slapping the fat of her ass to keep himself focused as he guides her by her waist to lay against the plush pillow that he would sit on and beginning to lightly kiss her. Shinobu tries to initiate further, wrap herself around him and pulling at his clothes. She wants to feel his skin against hers, she wants to feel him inside of her. Her lips eventually find his neck, biting at the pale flesh and Douma groans in pleasure before forcing her to lay flat on her back.

"Douma. Please."

Douma doesn't seem bothered, he even seems a bit entertained. Continuing to place gentle kisses against her lips while holding her body in place. Traveling down, peppering his soft lips against her sensitive neck and heaving chest, and finally—finally, he reaches her breasts. Shinobu feels as if she could cry in happiness.

He licks at her nipples, tongue swirling circles around the pink bud and she whines in complaint. It's all so teasing, every small touch of his hands and brush of his tongue against her makes the pit in her stomach feel worse. She wants him to grab her hard enough to bruise, to be rough, make her feel everything he does for days to come.

She had been with men before. Two to be precise. A boy whose father owned the Inn she once stayed at, and a slayer with blue eyes as deep as the ocean waves. The first time, it was out of curiosity and the urge to get it over with. The second time, it was purely transactional, a night to let off steam that both of them desperately needed. 

Shinobu doesn’t think Douma would want to know about that.

It feels like an eternity as his kisses move down her body, his tongue dipping into her belly button. She parts her legs to accommodate him, his large frame making it a bit more difficult, and he bites at her inner thighs lightly. A small part of her wants to slap him for being so teasing, but then he looks up at her from between her spread thighs with a devilish smile and puts his tongue exactly where she wants it.

Letting her head loll back onto the pillows, she tries to relax her tense muscles as Douma’s tongue spreads the folds of her cunt and dips inside of her. Little gasps escape her lips with each brush of his tongue. Sometimes hard and fast, other times slow and soft. She can feel Douma smile against her when she praises him for how he’s making her feel so good.

Yes, she had shared a bed with men before, but neither had done what Douma is doing to her now. His tongue so deep inside of her that it felt humanly impossible, and he hadn’t come up for air once. Her hands grasp at anything she has within reach, fingernails digging into the pillows while the other hand grasps his long hair. He seems to enjoy that, a bit of pain, so she tugs again to hear him moan against her. 

He doesn’t come up much, only to say how cute she is, how pretty she looks and sounds. Sometimes his words become dirty, he tells her that her cunt tastes delicious, that he’s hard for her, that he wants to fuck her until she hurts. Those words bring her closer to finishing than she likes to admit.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she feels her stomach clenching and jolts of pleasure run through her body like a firecracker. Letting out a drawn out moan and fisting her hand at the roots of his hair to grind against his tongue even more, she feels the vibration of his groan wrack through her body. 

Even as he pulls away, chin dripping with her slick, Shinobu knows it's not enough. She needs more from him, anything he could give her. 

"More, please."

Douma happily obliges.

When she turns, he follows, desperate to please, desperate to prove himself to her. His large hands grab at her thighs, pushing and lifting them in all sorts of positions that make her see stars behind her eyes. He goes and goes until she cannot go any longer. His tongue and fingers working her cunt over and over for all she can give him. Her vision blacking out at the edges and chest heaving from the constant stimulation. The large sitting pillow is soaked below her, and the only way she feels comfortable is curled on her side. She doesn’t want to move, and Douma doesn’t make her. Kissing her cheekbone as violet eyes begin to droop in exhaustion. 

“Sleep, my dear.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Shinobu’s body is sore and heavy when she awoke from the uncomfortable sleep she’d fallen into. She knows she hadn’t slept for long, still practically vibrating in satisfaction, maybe an hour or two. Douma was nowhere to be found, having left before she dosed off with a whisper that he had a ceremony to aid, but he at least had the decency to cover her with a blanket before he left. 

Memories flood into her mind in flashes. A deep rooted lust, seeking Douma out, and what felt like hours of him doing the most sinful things with his tongue that only married couples would do. She wants to smack herself for her previous actions, a night of passion with a man who wants to marry her before she leaves for the inevitable future?

Not her smartest move.

She wants to talk to him—no, she needs to talk to him. Her legs feel tingly and shake as she stands to dress herself, and her inner thighs are covered in love bites and dried slick. The aphrodisiacs certainly made her bolder, saying and doing things she normally would never even dare to think about, but she cannot go back on her word to Tamayo. She still has to leave. Their time together won’t change that, and she has to tell him.

Perhaps, in a few years when she’s older and done with her work they could meet again. She wonders if he’d leave this place for her, move out to the country in a small home where they could live peacefully and start a family. It’d made her stomach feel warm when she saw him playing with some of his followers children, would he be the same if they had children? 

Shinobu shakes her head to clear it of those kinds of thoughts. She’s let herself get too comfortable here, allowed herself too much pleasure that she forgot her true obligations. Deciding that she will leave now instead of at dawn, Shinobu stops by her—the room they allowed her to stay at to grab her bag full of belongings. 

She needs to feel strong, she needs to feel like herself, so she wears Kanae’s butterfly haori. 

It feels strange, actually wearing it, but comforting. It’s almost as if she can imagine that her sister is embracing her while she wears it. She begins to prepare for her departure, placing her matches and dagger into her pocket in case she ran into any trouble during her travels. The dagger hadn’t been much of a help against the demon without her poison, but it would certainly work against a human if needed.

The halls are empty and quiet as she goes to the ceremonial room. A sense of Deja vu as she remembers months ago when she thought she heard screams coming from in there. Grabbing an unlit lantern that hung nearby, she doesn’t hesitate this time and pushes open the heavy door. Despite the darkness as she walks in, she can see that the room giant from the moonlight peaking through tiny glass windows on the ceiling, probably the biggest one in the temple—

Without even thinking, Shinobu flinches violently.

The ever so familiar stench of blood envelopes her like an embrace from an old friend. Crunching, snarling, and chewing noises fill her ears and she is suddenly ten years old again, huddled in her parent's closet while her family is feasted on. She’s stepping in something wet, and she’s unsure of what it is. Trembling hands grab at the matches she slipped into her pocket, striking it against the box to transfer the tiny flame to the lantern.

A sickening shiver hits her like a wave when the flame brightens and she can finally see what's on the floors, and Shinobu feels afraid. 

She wants to run but she can't move, the icy air seems to freeze her limbs and keep her in place. Bodies lay in front of her, women of the paradise faith, clad in the white robes that were worn to Douma's ceremonies. He is in the middle of the bodies, hunched over with his back to her and eating what she thinks is part of a leg. As she takes in the sight of him sitting criss crossed so casually amongst the bloodied corpses, there's only one word that screams in her head.

Demon.

The horrible, disgusting crunching finally stops. Shinobu hears him make a humming noise, confused at the other presence in the room, it is so similar to how they were just hours earlier but so different at the same time. His eyes glowing as he peaks over his shoulder and sees her standing there, horrified at the sight before her. Douma moves quickly, his golden fan snapping open as he practically slices his arm through the air, a large puff of frost and icy wind goes over her, and the wooden doors slam shut with a bang. 

"Shinobu! Silly girl, you weren't supposed to see this yet." He wipes his face sloppily with his arm. Viscous smile showing his true teeth, sharp and blood stained, the teeth of a predator. He stands, tall and terrifying, and she moves without thinking.

Shinobu drops the lantern and tries to run, but slips on a thick puddle of blood on the floor. Her body lands with a hard crash, smearing the red hot liquid all over her skin and clothes. As she pushes herself up to crawl her hand grabs at something warm and squishy and her horrified eyes look to see her fingers wrapped around a half eaten arm, the pale flesh ripped and shredded off the white bone and speckled with dots of blood. A harsh gag escapes her, chest heaving as she vomits up the food she'd eaten at dinner hours earlier. The fingers of the dismembered arm are slim, and the middle is adorned with a familiar small shimmering green ring. Shinobu feels the urge to vomit once again as she thinks of the poor woman with whose arm this once, a cook in the kitchens who wore her long black hair in two tight buns, she liked to work alongside Chiyo. Now she was here, eaten and discarded like trash.

"Come here, you!" Shinobu gasps as he is suddenly standing above her. He sounds too playful for the terror that she feels. 

Nails scraping desperately at the wooden floors as he snatches her up by the waist and lifts her where her legs dangle in the air. Shinobu screams, her voice shrill and loud. She doesn't want to die, she doesn't want to have to experience the pain of his teeth ripping into her flesh. Her chest hurts with the realization of what he is, the betrayal of knowing she felt fondness for something so vile. It’s like a spell has broken and she realizes now that she had fallen for his trap like everyone else, a butterfly caught in a net. Douma's arms feel tight around her, and she hates that she can't make herself feel disgusted by his touch, even when his hands are stained with blood.

Strong fingers grip at her jaw, forcefully turning her head up to look at him, she thrashes as hard as she can, kicking her legs at his body in hopes of landing a painful blow, it's all futile though, he is too strong and big and she is too weak and small. This is the end—she thinks, he'll rip into her throat to silence her screams and then consume her body just like all the other women. He'll tell his followers that she left in the night to return to her family, and she'll be forgotten. Douma doesn't do that, however, cold bloodied lips envelop hers. Her eyes widen when she realizes that he's kissing her to shut her up instead of killing her, Shinobu still tries shrieking past his lips hoping someone would hear, but his tongue shoves past her clenched teeth.

The slimy thing worms its way into her mouth, and she tastes the salt and metallic taste of blood. It's not his own, nor is it hers, but the poor women that lay dead on the floor. If she had anything else in her stomach, she would've thrown up again. It's so unlike the kisses they share with hours before, once full of passion now forceful and bloody. It makes her sick, knowing just hours ago she was craving the kisses of this creature who craves human flesh. 

Despite his tight hold on her, Shinobu manages to wiggle down enough to reach the nichirin dagger tucked into her pocket, but she can't pull it out to use against him. It's the only logical thing she can think of doing, injure him, kill him, do anything to get out of his grasp. She can't die this way, she can't die at the hands of a demon who tricked her so easily. As his tongue continues to forcefully lick all around the inside of her mouth, brushing against her tongue and teeth, Shinobu uses the only weapon she has access to and bites.

Baring down so hard that her jaw aches, she can feel his tongue ripping through her teeth as he grunts in surprise and what she thinks is pain, just as his arms loosen enough that she can pull her arm up and drive the dagger into his neck. She yanks away from him as hard as she can, his tongue still in her mouth. With a harsh cough, she spat his ripped off tongue in front of him, still spitting as much of his foul blood out of her mouth as she possible could. She felt like a fool, how could she not have noticed he was a demon? It was so obvious to her now, was she really that blind?

Giggling madly, blood pouring from his mouth as she watched in horror as the pink flesh stitched itself together and grew a new tongue as quickly as she bit off the last one, just as long and sharp as his last. Douma grabs at the tiny dagger protruding from his neck, plucking it out with a satisfied hum like it was no more than a needle that poked him. The stab wound doesn't even bleed, his skin closes before the blood could leak out. Dread overcomes her as Douma looks at her with hungry eyes.

"Oh, Shinobu..." He laughs, voice deepening to something dark and scary. Shinobu stumbles a step back, she's completely defenseless now, no weapons or poisons, and no one around to save her. "You're so cute to think that would do anything to me."

As she looks at him, his true form, with blue tinted claws and a blood red marking on the top if his head staining fine blonde hair, she realizes why he could heal so quickly. The kanji marking his eyes, only granted to Muzan's most powerful demons. 

Upper Two.

Douma takes a step closer to her, and she moves back again. Chest heaving as she tries to stay as calm as possible. Tamayo had told her of ten upper moons, but they seemed like distant nightmares that she would never encounter. She can't let him get close again, she can run but she has nowhere to hide or escape, the door is still sealed off with shimmering spikes of ice. 

"You've lived alongside demons for years, you’d think that you would be more adept at realizing you're still living alongside one." Douma tuts, clicking his tongue at her like he was disappointed. Shinobu feels her heart nearly stop beating at his words, how did he know about Tamayo and Yushiro being demons?

"How do you know—?" He cuts her off before she can ask.

"Oh, my love. I know everything about youuu!" Practically singing his words, Shinobu shivers at the loving name he calls her. How can he act so cruel, but say such sweet words?

"Your poor parents eaten by a demon when you were just a child." Blonde hair flopping as he shakes his head in sadness, taking a larger step towards her. Shinobu jumps back as she feels the floor ending on an edge, feet unsteady, there’s water around them and she hadn’t realized until now; she doesn't want to fall in and be snatched up by him. "Traveling the streets alone for so long before you were brought in by your lovely adoptive mother—what was her name again...?" Douma taps his chin with the end of his fan, making a show of acting like he was wracking his brain for the answer. To her horror, he harshly shoves his finger into the pale skin of his temple, blood pouring down the wound and he wiggles it around like it was a game. His face perks up when he remembers, and a beastly smile stretches his lips.

"Ah, yes...Tamayo." 

If Shinobu was afraid before, she is petrified now. Douma knew that she lied, he knew that her family was killed by a demon, and he knew who her found family was. Her mind is screaming at her for being such an idiot. He has had the upper hand for who knows how long, keeping his cards close to his chest so she never had a clue. Does he know where they live? Has he hurt them? Has he killed them? She can't bare the thought of losing another family.

"She is quite the beauty! Of course not as beautiful as you. I can see why everyone assumed she was your mother, though." He lets out a small giggle, and Shinobu feels like crying. Here he is, talking so casually about the people that she loves while he may have killed them. "We cannot forget Yushiro either, of course! That silly boy has quite the temper."

Rage overtakes her fear, how dare he talk about them. He’s been hoarding her here for months, using sweet words and subtle manipulation to keep her from leaving. Shinobu takes a strong step forward, she doesn't care if he is bigger, she'll fight him to her very last breath if she must. 

"If you hurt them, I'll—"

A gasp cuts off her threat, he is suddenly right in front of her. Rainbow eyes meeting purple ones. He was so quick she didn't even realize he moved until he was in her face. "Don't be stupid, my dear. I didn't do anything to them." Shinobu practically throws herself back to create distance, and she can see the annoyance on his face. "Lord Muzan needs them alive for now, and I wouldn't dare defy his word." He tells her.

"All I needed was...information, about you." Douma takes another step forward again, trying to close the space between them. Shinobu panics and yells at him to stay back, she tries to sound strong but her voice is trembling. Douma giggles at her, a faux pity.

"Or what, you'll kill me?" It's mocking, and her face flushes in embarrassment. She had killed demons before, she tries to put herself in that mindset. She needs to act brave enough to challenge him.

"Yes! Just like I did with the last demon who tried to kill me!" A memory of the repulsive creature that sliced open multiple parts of her body comes to her mind, despite her injuries she still poisoned him. She was victorious in killing him. Douma moves again, fast enough to catch her off guard and make her trip over her own feet. She lands hard against the wooden floors onto her bottom and at Douma's feet. Looking up at him as she scoots back, he tuts his tongue at her again.

"You really think you escaped that demon in the mountains?" He asks, looking at her like she is a pitiful little animal begging for scraps on the streets. "If I hadn't killed it, you'd be dead. Rotting away in its stomach for eternity."

Shinobu stops moving, what did he mean? Douma had rescued her, but it was after she had killed that demon. It hadn't even followed her when she had ran.

"What are you—?" She tries to ask, voice small and unsteady. Douma reaches down, grabbing her wrist and snatching her up where he could wrap his arms around her waist once again. Shinobu doesn't fight him this time, too shocked to do so.

"Oh my lovely Shinobu, while your poison was affective, it simply wasn't enough for it to be killed. It was coming back to eat you, my dear. It just couldn't resist your cute self." His cold, pale finger booped the tip of her nose, but Shinobu can't do anything to stop him. Douma killed that demon? Her poison was ineffective? Her mind races with unanswered questions. She cannot lie and say that her pride wasn't damaged a bit, now she truly knows that if it wasn't for Douma she would've died by another demon.

She is brought back harshly to the present when Douma lays her down on the floor, looming atop of her like a bear about to eat its prey. There's truly no escape for her now, he’s so large that he takes up her whole sight. Wide shoulders, big arms, and a firm chest. It’s a mirror to how they looked when she allowed him to push his tongue inside of her, when she trusted him with her most intimate areas. How ironic is it now? Twisted where she does not know if she will live to see the sunrise, or perish by his hand.

"You're to serve a purpose to me, Shinobu. The gods have chosen you as my wife." Douma says, his words sounding soft and sweet as he whispers into her cold ear. A small spark of anger is ignited back into her when his lips suck at her earlobe, and her hands give a brutal shove at his shoulders. Douma jumps up a bit in surprise at her sudden resistance, she holds no real strength against him, but old instincts still show. 

"You're blasphemous! You cannot speak to the gods!" Her voice is rasped and hysteric now, desperate for anyone to hear her. Large hand grabbing at her wrists to keep her from hitting him anymore, she screams again before Douma's other hand covers her lips, muffling the sound behind it. He looks a bit annoyed again, calling her mean, he would've preferred she stay quiet and submissive. 

"Eh, so what?" He says, rolling his eyes. The colors swirl together and makes her head feel dizzy. "Everyone here believes I do, and they'll follow my every word because of it. If I told them to carry you to me and hold you down kicking and screaming because the gods demanded it, they would." Her wrists suddenly feel numb, and she looks up to see an icy vine sprouting from his hand and wrapping around her wrists like a rope. Binding her hands together with crystalline ice. Shinobu tugs at the vines, but they're too strong, too cold, she's losing feeling in her hands as the tightness cuts off circulation.

"The average fool believes that heaven exists, that there is a god coming to welcome them with peace and prosperity at the ends of their short pathetic lives, but it's not real anyway." 

Now that she’s bound, Douma eases a bit of his weight off of her. He gazes over to his discarded meals, the bodies all ripped apart in one way or another. His hands move mindlessly, beginning to pull at her kimono, Shinobu feels a tear run down her temple when she realizes what he’s doing, his bony finger wipes it away. 

"I save these people. I let them live joyously, peacefully, without pain or discomfort...And when their time comes, I grant them paradise." It’s a nightmare decorated with pretty words to entice people in. A spiders web often looks beautifully intricate to insects before they realize it’s sticky and inescapable. 

Another tear falls when he tugs off her shoes and hakama pants. A part of her wishes he would take off the butterfly haori she wore as well, not wanting to taint the memory of it with this. She doesn’t feel embarrassed at the way he looks at her body, he had become quite familiar with it already, but she does feel shame. Shame that all those women she lived alongside died by the same mouth that gave her pleasure. 

Dipping his head down where she can no longer see his face, Shinobu bites her tongue so hard it bleeds.

Starting from her hip, Douma drags his tongue up her body, dipping into her belly button and going up in between her heaving breasts. She wants to scream, she wants to cry, but she's frozen...much like she was so many years ago in the closet of her parents home, their bodies rotting outside. An unwilling gasp escaped past her lips as Douma’s cold lips press a firm kiss against a sensitive spot on her neck. He brushes his mouth against her ear, and his whispered words sounds like one of a lover despite how gruesome they really are.

“You won’t be my meal, Shinobu.”

The strum of a biwa string practically vibrates the air.

He's gone.

Vanished from above her, she stares at the empty space that his body filled. Questions wrack her mind, where did he go? Why would he let her go when he already had her trapped? Perhaps he is playing with her, like a cat letting its paw off of a mouse's tail, allowing it to believe it has a chance of survival before pouncing and sinking its claws in again. 

She doesn't care why, she'll take any opportunity now. The ice melts away after he disappears, and Shinobu hurries with numb fingers to dress herself again. Her clothes are soaked with blood and frost and freezing water, but she doesn't care. Comfort means nothing to her right now. All she cares about is getting out of here and making sure her family is safe.

'Please be safe' she thinks over and over again as she runs down the halls.

Suddenly her body is snatched from the hallway, the wind knocked harshly from her lungs, a hand overcoming her mouth so she can't scream. She thinks it's Douma, finally continuing his little game. Will he be mercifully and kill her quickly? Or will he drag it out, savoring every bite of her he takes while tormenting her with his words like he did before. She screams despite the hand muffling her voice, thrashing violently. After being dragged into a nearby room, she finally lands an elbow against her attacker, making them loosen their hold on her with a pained groan. Shinobu twists around and pushes them away, ready to confront whoever grabbed her.

"Mister Masato?"

Shinobu lowers her fighting stance as she sees the older man kneeled over in pain. His sleep clothes clearly tousled like he had gotten up in a hurry. Confusion overtakes her, but he speaks before she can ask him anything, before she can warn him of what Douma is.

"I'm afraid I've been turning a blind eye for far too long." Shinobu furrows her thin eyebrows at his words, maybe it's her adrenaline dying down and her mind still trying to catch up, but she doesn't understand. Masato sighs, and bows his head in shame. "I know what he is, and what he does...I've helped him for thirty five years." 

Realization dawns on her. Masato looks into horrified purple eyes and Shinobu can only mutter two words. "You knew..."

Before she can think further, her hand reaches out and slaps him across the face. Palm stinging from the impact, when he looks at her again she sees blood dribbling from his upper lip. She thought so highly of this man, how could he do something so horrible? How could he lead these people to their deaths like a Shepard leading his sheep to the slaughter. Angry tears finally escape Shinobu's eyes, and she wants to hit him again.

"How could you? So many years, so many lives!" She cries out to him, he had daughters of his own, how could he allow the daughters of others to be eaten by him? These ceremonies happened so often, Shinobu hadn't even noticed people going missing. "Those people were innocent!" She slams her hands against his shoulder, pushing him back as Masato stumbles and winces in pain.

"He provided safety for myself and my family, so I forced myself to look the other way." He tells her, sounding disgusted and ashamed of himself. Rightfully so, Shinobu thinks to herself. Masato rubs his hand down his face, looking stressed. 

"I can no longer do that, however." 

Shinobu blanches at him, mouth gaping open in shock like a fish. After thirty five years he suddenly gains a good conscience to stop helping a demon kill and eat innocent people? Her hand itches to slap him again.

"Then tell them what he is! Save them before—"

"Others have tried, and they have all failed."

Even if people had tried, wouldn't they listen to him? He'd seen it for years, Douma has said that Masato is one of his most trusted followers. They would listen to him...wouldn't they?

She can't think any further on it, Masato is shoving something into her arms and pushing her to the doors. She realizes that it's the bag full of her belongings that she was traveling with, along with a small box of food and a canister with what she assumes to be water. 

Masato looks nervous, whipping his head around at every second to make sure no one sees them. It's late, and most of the other followers are sleeping, but sunrise will be soon and people will awaken. Douma wouldn't hesitate to slaughter each and every one of them if his image was ruined, Masato says that he's done it before.

"You must go." Shinobu is being shoved out onto the front steps of the temple. She can see in the distance the sky turning lighter as the sun rises, she prays to whatever god is listening that it’s enough to keep Douma away. The sun is her only hope. “Never stop running, go to the ends of the world but don't stop. Lord Douma will keep looking for you no matter what."

Shinobu doesn’t fret, she doesn’t ask questions and she doesn’t look back. She knows what Masato is telling her is the only way of ensuring her survival, ensuring her freedom. The air is icy and cold as she runs farther and farther from the temple, down the mountain and away completely. 

Masato sighs as he watches the sun rise above the mountain, the water sparkling against the light. He closes his eyes, feeling the sunlight soak into his skin. It’s his last day alive. He has doomed himself helping this girl, but he cannot find regret. He’ll go back inside to the shadows, kiss his wife and children, and await his Founder’s return. 

"Keep yourself safe, Miss Kocho. I wish you well."

Chapter Text

Shinobu spends her eighteenth birthday running. 

It felt like she hadn't stopped moving since Masato had pushed her away from the steps of the Eternal Paradise temple. Perhaps she hadn't. Fear nipped at her heels wherever she went, even if she only stayed for as briefly as a night. She had nowhere to go to stay safe, no one to turn to for protection. Maybe it was simply paranoia, but she felt like he was everywhere now, and even the tiniest hint of him would make her flee without a second thought. A laugh of a man that sounds eerily similar to his, the smell of spice and musk and lotuses, the sight of his pinstriped hakama pants. 

Shinobu had the thought of turning to the demon slayers she once detested as a child, maybe even the one that she had known briefly during her time in Tokyo, Tomioka she thinks his name was. Surely one of them was strong enough to challenge Douma or at least know of more ways to protect her from being hunted by him, but it was quickly dismissed when she realized they would find Tamayo and Yushiro as well. The slayers don't ask questions, they don't care to hear the stories or pleas, they do their job and they do it efficiently...

What a pity, things turned out this way, Shinobu constantly moving while looking over her shoulder and unable to return to her home to see her family. It was far too risky to do so, Douma knew who they were, he knew where they were, and if Masato's words were true then he wouldn't hesitate to slaughter them to get her back. She missed them dearly, especially at times like this. Tamayo would always make her a small batch of castella cakes on her birthdays, and Yushiro would reluctantly take her to the cities shops to buy her any book or tool that she desired for. Now she was alone again, the feelings of loneliness so similar to that of her eleventh birthday, the first one after her parents and sister's death. It's downright pathetic of her, to wallow in her own self sorrow at the situation she put herself in, even if it was unknowingly. 

Nevertheless, she could only dwell on her own misfortunes for so long. Her spirits lightened a bit as the winter months faded away, the snow was starting to melt and the air was becoming warm. The warmth felt...nice. It reminds her of Kanae, Kanae always liked spring the best, when the flowers would first bloom and the grass was decorated with all sorts of beautiful colors. She would always pick what she thought to be the most beautiful flower she could find, and tuck it gently behind Shinobu's ear, telling the young girl to always smile...

'because she thought her smile was the prettiest thing.'

It had become habit for her to smile after that, even if she had to force herself to. Now, she finds that it's a rare occurrence, especially since the same compliment had been uttered from Douma's lips, tainting the words of her deceased beloved sister.

Shinobu knows he's gotten close, far too close for comfort, some nights she swears she feels the creeping frost that went everywhere with him biting at her. Her mind doesn't fail to remind her that she can only run for so long before he finally catches up, she only has so much time before he sinks his claws into her once again.

He had been adamant about how he didn't intend to make her his meal, but Shinobu didn't believe him. Douma was a lying, arrogant deceiver. A false prophet who manipulated so many poor souls, having them walk happily and unknowingly to their doom. When he found her, she wouldn't go willingly. He'd grow tired of her resistance quick enough, and when he does she'll be devoured. She's accepted that she will most likely die within the year, Douma has far more resources to find her than she ever will have to escape him. So she made sure to take extra precautions for when he does.

If she dies, he'll die with her.

Wisteria capsules, twice a day. One before breakfast, and the other before she sleeps. Using her knowledge to concoct her own recipe, potent enough to absorb into her body. It was an idea that'd she had for a while, even before she met Douma, to poison her own flesh and blood and make her body a weapon in itself. The side effects were horrible, nausea that never went away, pounding headaches, her vision blacking out if she moved too quickly, some nights she couldn't even hold down her meals, but she pushed herself to keep taking them. Despite her lips and fingernails having a purple tinge to them, and purple veins marking her skin like vines, she knew this was the only way to kill someone as powerful as him. She remembers his eyes, his ranking, the kanji that revealed itself after she caught him devouring all those women's bodies.

Upper Moon Two.

Tamayo had taught her of Muzan and his twelve Kizuki, Upper Moons and Lower Moons. Six of each. The higher the moon the more powerful the demon, and Douma was a formidable one. She felt like a fool for not realizing the statues that his followers worshiped were of his own master, Muzan Kibutsuji. But she wouldn't be a fool again. He would not have the upper hand that he had before. Shinobu tells herself time and time again, a mantra she repeats in her head...if she must damn herself to hell to kill him, then she will. 

She'll be his very last meal, and she'll die with a smile on her face.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It's always the most nerve racking when she is in a place that is more desolate than busy. The silence tends to nag at her and convince her that she's hearing and seeing things that she's not. The cities, bustling with movement at all hours both day and night, are a welcome distraction from the impending sense of doom that followed above her like a storming cloud. The knowledge that she is being hunted by a predator and that she will have to die in order to succeed in killing it, despite her acceptance the thoughts don't always sit easy with her.

It's one of the hotter months—August, she thinks. The sweat dripping down her brow and gathering at the nape of her neck makes her believe such. She found herself in an almost abandoned town after a close encounter with two of Douma’s followers at a train station, she had recognized one of them by his dark ginger hair and unique birthmark that ran over his eye. Shinobu had congratulated him on his wife’s pregnancy during her stay with the cult. She had fled before they even noticed she was gone. It was too close of an encounter for her. Distance made her feel safer, desolation made her feel safe, and she would’ve…

If not for the three men that had been following her for the last hour.

They’re not from Douma’s cult, that she knows of at least…there had been many people that resided amongst him, but these men had features that were not familiar to her at all. A man with long black hair in an oversized grey yukata, a taller man donning a bright blue striped yukata, and a younger man with magenta eyes and violet hair. They think she’s unaware of their presence, everytime she turns they hide. She knows that their intentions are nothing good, so she feels a sense of peace when she approaches a small area of buildings, a town she thinks. It looks rundown, and empty. She wonders if it is. There are still many places to hide and escape from them here if needed, she couldn’t quite shake them during her walk. Gazing behind her shoulder to make sure they hadn’t come closer, her eyebrows furrow when she sees them.

There’s only two of them behind her now.

Before she can run, a hand reaches out and twists itself into her hair. Ripping out the delicate butterfly pin she always wore, she wasn’t prepared for them to attack her so suddenly. Shinobu lets out a cry of pain as the man tugs at her roots harshly, dragging her into one of the nearby buildings and throwing her to the floor. Something sharp protrudes from the ground and she feels it scrape at her forehead, when she pushes herself up to her forearms, she can feel the blood flowing from the cut down her face. One of the men yanks her up by her arms, knocking the air from her lungs as he throws her on her knees while they surround her like pack animals.

“Stupid little girl, didn’t your parents ever teach you to stay aware of strange men in the night?” The man in grey mocks, leaning down and tilting his head at her in mock confusion. He laughs cruelly as he reaches forward to yank at the top of her yukata, pulling the fabric looser in an attempt to expose her chest.

“Go to hell.” She spits at his feet, pushing him away with a harsh shove. The man reels back suddenly before slapping her across her cheek. Her head spins for a moment, and the taste of blood fills her mouth. She spits it again at them. 

The younger looking one, no more than nineteen, grabs at her kicking feet. He seems unsure of his own actions, an uncomfortable expression on his face as he holds her ankles down to the ground. The other two seem less timid with their actions, they seem practiced, like they had done this before numerous times. She hates to admit that they probably have. The taller man finally manages to catch her wrists in one of his fists, and he twists her arms painfully until she lay flat against her back. Her chest heaves as she struggles with all her might.

A puff of frost escapes her slips as she lets out the breath she was holding, the younger man looks at her in confusion. Before realizing that they all now have a powdery cloud of ice coming from each breath they take, and a chill of frosty winds run over them. Realization dawns in and she's struggling even harder against them now, voice shrill and panicked. 

He was here. 

"Go! You have to run!” She screams, trying to yank her arms and feet away from their hold. If they didn’t get away, they were going to die.

The men look confused at her sudden terror, screaming that they would die if they didn’t run and pleading for them to do so. She had been feisty before, biting and scratching and spitting insults with every ounce of energy she had in her. Now it was like she had switched personalities completely, she was scared, but not of them. The man with the grey yukata, the ringleader amongst this trio of criminals, furrows his brow in anger as he now looks agitated. Before, he seemed to take some kind of sick pleasure in her fight.

"What are you talking about, girl—"

Blood spurts out from the gash that suddenly appears on the man's throat, staining the red hot liquid all over both the other two men and Shinobu, dripping down the front of his Yukata. Shinobu watches in horror as the man tumbles to his knees, an ugly gurgling noise coming from his blood filled mouth. His death is long, and even as he finally falls his body remains withering. Shinobu hears one of the other men, the man with the blue striped yukata, gasps at the sight before them. He lets go of the bruising hold on her wrists and stumbles up to stand.

"The moon is quite lovely tonight, isn't it?" 

Fear. It grabs her by her neck and keeps her frozen where she is laying on the ground. He finally found her. She's unsure of everything now that she's faced with the reality of it. Perhaps it would've been an easier death at the hands of these men than the teeth and stomach of the demon that stands before them. 

It's too late to back out now.

Douma doesn't put his attention on her, he seems solely focused on the surviving members of her group of attackers. He's smiling, the parchment pale skin around his lips stretched into an off-putting sight, it doesn't reach his eyes at all, and despite the beauty of the colors they look desolate, void of all emotion. The golden war fan he uses is stained with blood, covering the pink and purple lotuses that decorated its sides. 

The men are as frozen as Shinobu is, neither have moved from their positions even an inch. The younger one with magenta eyes still holding her ankles in a death-like grip, and the other standing at her head shaking like a leaf about to fall from its tree. Douma clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment as he observes the very compromising sight. His bride thrown ruthlessly to the ground and held against her will by the touch of three strange men.

"Now, it's not very nice of you all to attack a tiny, defenseless girl like this, is it?" He asks, raising a thick dark eyebrow dramatically. Rainbow eyes gaze down at her, lingering on the way her lavender yukata is torn near her chest and the still bleeding cut on her forehead, when they lock eyes, she sees a frown tarnish the beauty on his face. The younger man whimpers as Douma steps closer, bending down to retrieve her discarded butterfly hair pin.

"What were your intentions tonight? To rape her? To kill her?" Douma's voice is taunting, he sounds far too cheerful for the crass words he speaks, twisting and twirling her hairpin between his fingers before pocketing it in his dark cloak. "Y'know, you might as well give up now. She belongs to me anyway."

Despite her very vulnerable position, Shinobu wants to slap Douma for saying she belonged to him. 

The man above her seems to have gained some sort of confidence, or stupidity, as he moves towards Douma with an accusatory finger pointing at his chest. He starts to yell something, tone shrill with anger, but Douma flicks his hand out and the man is silenced. Seconds pass before his head slides neatly off of his body, rolling to the ground like a child's ball. His neck, where his head once resided, sprays with blood into the air before his body falls and crumbles into itself.

The boy holding her ankles screams in terror, practically throwing her away as he turns to flee. Douma is quicker than his stumbling run, however, and he soon suffers the same fate as the other two. Douma's golden fan slices through him like he was warm butter, and he falls face first onto the ground, bleeding heavily from his torso. Shinobu pushes herself to her elbows as she looks at the dead bodies of her would be rapists, a brutal bloody end for each of them. Douma seems pleased enough with his work, turning to her with a skip in his step. Shinobu's breath hitches in her throat, eyes dashing around to find anywhere she can escape, he’s standing in front of the door, but there are numerous other rooms. Douma anticipates it before she can.

"Don't try and run, you won't get far." He says, voice a bit flat. She knows he would’ve assumed she would be grateful for his actions, saving her from death—or worse—once again.

Shinobu tries anyway, scrambling to her feet and dashing into another room. An open window is her salvation, and she makes a beeline for it. She gasps and slides on her feet as Douma is suddenly there, his large form blocking her in. A burst of cold wind and the bedroom door slams behind her, sealed with spikes of hard ice. When she turns back to Douma, he is smiling at her. 

"You sure are clever—and fast. It took me months to find a proper scent on you. Using your clothing on animals so I'd be led away from your true path? So smart!" His praises seem genuine, but Shinobu does not feel flattered them. She’d had to do such things because he was hunting her, it was to keep him away, couldn’t he get that through his thick head?

"But, our game of chase is over now, as much fun as it was. I'm here to take you back home." 

Shinobu smacks her lips at his audacity. Their game? Taking her home?? The Eternal paradise wasn’t her home, and she hadn’t been playing at all. She had been living in fear for months now, unable to see her family and return to her true home. “It wasn't a game, you bastard!" She yells at him, and Douma frowns dramatically.

"Aww, no need to call such mean names. That's bad sportsmanship. It already makes me so sad to see you look so dejected, little butterfly. You tried so hard, and did so good!"

"No." Shinobu says. Douma’s eyebrows raise in surprise at her, and he turns back around to face her. "I'm not going." She shakes her head, and Douma waves his hand at her dismissively.

"Oh, don't be silly. Come now, flutter your wings to me, my little butterfly." He holds his arms open invitingly, like she would actually choose to run into his embrace. 

"I chose to run from you. I narrowly escaped with my life!" Damn her for being caught in such a desolate area of the world, if only there were others around to hear her yells. Douma’s lip twitch into a smirk at her words, muscle memory perhaps.

"Ah, yes...all because of Masato." He says, his voice holding a bit of bitterness behind it. He shakes his head in disappointment. "Such a shame, poor old Masato...I truly was heartbroken by his betrayal." His eyebrows furrow in sadness now, and Shinobu thinks that she sees tears gathering in his eyes.

"He was my closest friend for so many years, too. I remember the births of his children, and to think he threw that all away to help my bride in her runaway attempt." Douma looks down as tears run down his pale cheeks. His cries aren’t real, it’s a mockery of feelings. His pale fingers wipe at them suddenly, flicking them away. "I was so sad when he died, he hadn't even told me why he betrayed me and helped you..."

Like a spell is broken, Douma snaps back into his normal cheery smile. Shinobu feels unnerved at the sight. If she hadn’t seen it, she would’ve never even know he had been crying. “Well! He's dead now, so we'll never know. Unless he happened to tell you, Shinobu?"

She thinks it’s rhetorical, but she shakes her head no anyway. It’s not worth being pestered over by him. Douma seems to brighten at this, like an idea has popped into his head. "Why don't we ask him, hmm?" He asks her, smile growing into a small laugh.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Shinobu spits, tired of his playing. His non serious approach to this upsets her greatly. Douma claps his hands together, and his voice practically turns into a cheer of happiness.

"He's here with us!"

Shinobu stares at him like he’s grown a second head. How insane was he truly? Perhaps he suffered delusions as well. How could a man who he admitted to killing be here with them? Douma sees her confusion, and smiles knowingly.

"One moment, please." He says, reaching behind him into the darkness of his cloak. It takes him a moment to grab at whatever he’s trying to get, and each second that passes makes Shinobu’s stomach turn. Something was very wrong, but she didn’t know what. Douma makes a noise, a hum of satisfaction as he’s finally found it. Her eyes squint in the darkness of the room as Douma tosses something her way.

Shinobu feels sick to her stomach as a skull rolls towards her feet. Polished clean of any kind of human remains besides the pearly white bone. A crack runs down where his cheeks would’ve been, into the abyss of his eyes and brow bone. So much like the scar he had on his face. Did Douma do that intentionally? To remind them of the man whose skull this once was?

“What have you done?” Only a whisper, she doesn’t even know if she meant for him to hear it. Douma answers anyway.

"I finally granted him paradise." It’s a simple statement, but Shinobu wants to scream. He’s speaking not as the demon, but as the ‘Great Founder’ that so many worshipped.

"Lies!" She yells, grabbing at the closest thing to her so she could throw it at him. It was a half broken bowl, she thinks, as it flies in the air towards his chest. Douma doesn’t dodge it, letting it hit him without hesitation. "You're nothing but a fraud! A conman that lures helpless people to their doom all because of your gluttony!" It’s not enough, she needs to hurt him. She keeps throwing whatever she can. "You didn't grant him paradise, it's all lies!"

"Oh?" Douma says, something dark about his voice. He didn’t like to be confronted with the truth of his actions, it seems. Shinobu feels satisfied as she finally thinks she cracked the elegant mask that he so often wore, but Douma simply shakes his head in disappointment.

"It pains me to know that you think so little of me, Shinobu. Masato has found paradise with his family, they no longer have to suffer the pain of this world." Douma says. Shinobu’s face drops as does her heart when she understands his words. He hadn’t just killed Masato…he’d killed his whole family.

Masato. Tsumugi. Ritsu. Chiyo. 

All dead…because of her.

"You're insane! And I'd rather die than go with you." She screams. How dare he! A monster of a man that pretends to be a god of salvation. She wants to strangle him, she wants to kill him with her hands. If only she could. Douma’s lip twitches in annoyance.

"Hush, hush. Shinobu, I’m getting tired of this. Either you come with me now, or—“ 

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” She cuts him off with a sneer, little does he know that’s exactly what she wants. Perhaps her insults with push him to it.

"Perhaps Tamayo would care for a visit?" 

Her heart freezes in her chest at his words. Her mind had been so focused on him taking her that she hadn’t remembered that he has something to hold over her head. Her life doesn’t matter to her, he could threaten her life a thousand times and she would still fight. But she can’t lose another family.

With a reluctant step forward, Shinobu gives Douma her hand, the man grasping it with a devilish self satisfied smile. She’ll allow herself to be taken if it meant protecting her family. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The travels to his temple didn’t take long, either they were closer than she thought or he was faster than she realized. They reached the front steps right as the sun started to peak over the edge of the mountain. She was silent the entire time, a bitter expression on her face. Douma didn’t speak much either, shockingly, instead only giving short little jabs about how she had been missed greatly by his followers. She won’t be seeing them much anymore though, Douma had told her, as she’d be staying with him in his rooms below.

She hadn’t even know that his temple had rooms underground. He explains to her that it is a precautionary measure to make sure he is never exposed to sunlight, and that he often or not keeps his hidden treasures down here due to too many attempted thievery’s by past members of his worshipers. 

The moment Douma turns his back towards her, Shinobu takes the prettiest porcelain vase she sees, and shatters it. 

It's old, probably well over a century, and decorated with designs that only the rich could afford. Fine golden details brushed all around purple orchids and delicately painted swans. It breaks quite dramatically as well, falling to the ground with a gratifying smash and fracturing into hundreds of unrepairable pieces. Before Douma can intervene she grabs the sharpest and biggest shard she sees, tucking it away behind her hand. 

"I suppose now I know not to leave you with my nice things." He sighs, rainbow eyes gazing down at the splintered vase as he kicks one of the tinier pieces with his tabi sock. 

"Oh, Shinobu. Why would you do such a bad thing? That pot was older than your grandmother." His voice is vacant, trying to display some tone of disappointment but instead it only sounds lackluster. It makes her shudder, like he knows he should be feeling some kind of dismay but doesn't at all. She wonders what it’s like, to see and mimic human emotions but not truly be able to feel them. Is that why he’s the way that he is?

Locking eyes with him, she takes the shard and slices deep into her inner arm, the pale skin separating as blood pours out of the cut. It hurts, and tears prickle at her lashes, but the satisfaction of knowing Douma will be dead soon overshadows all of the pain she feels. She made sure to annoy him first, breaking something that was had value, and then cut deep enough where the scent of her blood would be too much for him to control his impulses. 

"I want you to eat me." She says, voice set with determination.

"Oh?" Douma tilts his head like a child, looking confused. "Shinobu, why would I do that?" He asks, and she blanches on the spot. 

"You're a glutton—" Shinobu spits out, her teething grinding against each other as the pain from her arm starts to sting. She didn’t expect her death to be quick, Douma never could shut up enough for it, but she hadn’t expected him to act confused.

"What does my eating habits have to do with this—" 

"You won't be able to resist the smell of human blood for long." Shinobu says, and something clicks inside of Douma’s head. Understanding dawns on his face, and he gives her a tight lipped smile before moving to sit criss crossed on the floor. She flinched as he moved, thinking that he would stop her, but now she’s the one that’s confused.

"So we wait and see." He says, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Shinobu grows upset at the casualness of his pose. What did he mean? Why was he not stopping her, or eating her for that matter?

"What do you think you're doing?" She yells at him.

He shrugs his shoulders, not answering her question. Just…staring, and waiting. Fine then, if he wants to act strangely she cannot stop him. She just has to wait long enough for his instincts to take over.

It takes longer than she anticipated, and Shinobu soon starts to feel woozy.

The edges of her vision start to turn dark, and Douma looks blurred as he sits in front of her. Her head pounds with dizziness, and it’s a fight to stay standing up. Her body is practically begging for her to stop, to let herself crumble to the floor as pass out. The only sound she can hear is that of her own heartbeat, pounding and pounding as blood rushes through her body and gushing from the slice. It’s not working, he’s not falling for it. 

Holding the shard to her neck, pressing into her skin deeply and beginning to drag. He’ll have no choice to eat her if she’s already dying, Douma wouldn’t waste her body. Her eyes pop open when something grips her wrist, irritating the fresh blooming bruises, and yanks her hand away from her neck. Shinobu drops the blood covered shard instinctively so the hand on her wouldn’t squeeze any harder, she’s sure her wrist would snap if so. 

Douma is there, holding her up. Annoyance and what she thinks is worry twisted into his face. 

"You don't think things through very well, do you?" He asks, no longer bothering to put on a mask for the state that she's put herself in. Her knees suddenly feel so much weaker, and it’s hard to hold herself up. Douma scoops his hands underneath her wobbling legs and wraps his other arm around her back, picking her up with ease. Shinobu doesn’t try and fight him now, she’s weak from blood loss and knows any resistance wouldn’t work against his strength. Her head lolls heavily making her dizziness worse so she rests against his collar bone, cheek pressing against his chest. She’s thankful that he doesn’t acknowledge it, he’d do nothing but gloat.

He carries her over through another large set of doors, and Shinobu feels her stomach turn at all of the skulls lining the walls. Hundreds, if not thousands, all stripped clean of flesh or blood and placed neatly in lines in a meticulous order. She doesn’t ask, doesn’t want to know. Shinobu doesn’t think she can bear to hear his explanation. How old was he? How many had he truly slaughtered? Are all of the skulls his victims?

She doesn’t want to think anymore about it. 

The bedroom he brings her to is without a doubt the most beautiful room she’s seen. It’s not the largest, but the walls were decorated with some of the most intricate tapestries she’d ever seen, woven tightly with vivid colors and patterns. There was a large wooden chest pushed into the corner, along with a kyodai and armoire, made of some kind of rich deep colored wood. She knows it’s Douma’s room, due to a skull placed delicately on a jade vase. It looked to be extremely cared for, some of its long silky black hair pinned into a beautiful updo with a hairpin decorated with sparkling gems. Shinobu turns her eyes away, hoping whoever’s poor soul that skull belonged to was at peace.

Shinobu’s mind nags at her wondering why it was separate from the others. Perhaps she meant something to Douma once…she doesn’t ask.

He’s gentle when he places her on the futon, careful to not let her head down too hard. He makes sure she won’t move before turning to the chest. Out of the corner of her eye she watches as he pulls out a rolled bunch of medical bandages. 

Shinobu curls on her side as his hand grabs at her arm again, more carefully than he was before due to the still bleeding cut. It only takes a small amount of force to extend her arm, palm side up, so he can start wrapping the stark white bandages around her thin forearm. Shinobu thinks of yanking away, but knows that it won’t take much effort from him to just hold her in place. She’d much rather bleed to death. It’d be kinder than her fate of living with him. 

"Rage overtakes your decisions, and while I do admire and even understand it...I simply can't allow you to keep harming yourself because of it." It feels like a lecture from her father. His voice firm and unyielding. So unlike Douma. He’d always been so carefree when she was unaware of his true nature. He sounds like Masato now. She wonders if the man’s personality had any influence on Douma after he’d consumed his flesh, a macabre thought.

"You do know that, don't you, Shinobu?" He asks, eyebrows raising at her. She doesn’t answer him. 

"It wouldn't have worked, if you're wondering." Shinobu smacks her lips after he speaks. That much was clear, she hadn’t taken into account that he would actually have some sort of control over his hunger. She assumed that with his choice of diet, that his instincts would take over at the smell of her bleeding flesh.

"Maybe to a lesser demon, without restraint...certainly not a high rank member of the twelve kizuki like myself." A hint of pride edges in his voice, the only semblance of emotion he's shown so far. Shinobu feels her lip twitch in annoyance, her mother had once said that a man who speaks highly of himself often or not falls from his pedestal sooner rather than later. She hopes in this case that it's very soon, and when Douma falls he cracks his head open and is dragged to hell. She won't tell him her morbid thoughts, as she knows he'd only take pleasure in knowing she was thinking of him.

"You were right. I am certainly a glutton, little butterfly, but I do still have control over my hunger, and a little bit of blood won't make me start thinking with my stomach." Douma pats the palm of his hand on his stomach after his words. It’s the most dangerous part of him. How many souls resided in his belly? 

Finally done with wrapping her arm, Shinobu gives him a once over. Her eyes glaring up at him as she speaks. "And if I succeeded in slicing my neck instead? You wouldn't have wasted my body." She spat, failure and pain making her anger a tenfold worse. Douma laughs, not mocking, but amused.

"Silly question, I would've just given you my blood. Is that what you want?" As if rubbing salt in her wounds, Douma pushes up the sleeve of his shirt, takes his claws and slices through his skin. The same area she did as well. Dark red, almost blackened blood flows from his cut, but he didn't even wince once in pain. His face just remained...the same as it always was, full of mirth and carefree. It repulses her, and she slaps away his arm as he brings it closer to her lips. 

"No." Shinobu says, not a hint of hesitation in her agitated voice.

Douma hums, not quite satisfied but not disappointed either. The slices from his claws mends themselves in seconds, and his skin looks as fresh as a newborn baby. No scars marring his pale smooth arm. A part of her resents that, jealously pangs in her chest at the remembrance of her own scars lined all across her small body. Douma tilts his head, and Shinobu turns her face away from him as she suddenly feels self conscious. 

"I've smelled the wisteria leaking from you since I found you." 

Her gasp hides nothing at his words, she'd been found out again, hadn't realized that her plan was foiled before she even enacted it. A tornado of emotions start to whirl inside of her, humiliation, dejection, annoyance...all mashing together to create an ugly little monster in her chest that is sure to lash out. Tears burn at the back of her eyes, and Shinobu scrunches her face up to avoid letting them fall. This bastard may have bested her again, but she won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He doesn't seem to noticed anyway.

"Such a smart girl, dosing yourself with poison so if I had eaten you, you would taken me down from the inside." The praises he gives her somehow make everything feel worse. She knows she is smart, so why did he always manage to beat her? The insecurities she had always kept buried deep in her mind suddenly became the forefront of her mind. Not smart enough, too small, not strong enough...It makes her feel inferior, and she hates it. 

She hates him. 

"Unfortunately for you, you won't be eaten anytime soon—or at all." Delicate fangs peaking from his smile. She wonders again just how many people those fangs have torn into. Despite knowing so much about him he was still a mystery, she doesn’t even know his true age.

"What are you doing with me then?" She lashes out, voice cracking as she finally speaks. 

"I've already told you, Shinobu. You really need to start paying attention." Douma chides her, making everything she feels so much worse. "As soon as all of this yucky wisteria is out of your system, we'll marry in the eyes of the gods. And then when you reach twenty, I'll turn you into a demon. That way we can live eternally together!" 

A tear finally falls from her eyes as he explains his plans. He hadn’t been lying when he had told her all those months ago that he would not eat her and that she would be his wife. Once again, Shinobu felt like a fool.

She should’ve just cut her neck first, or plunged the shard into her own heart. Avoided all the dilly dallying and killed herself before he could save her.

But why her? She was nothing special in her eyes. She’d been told her was beautiful her whole life, during her travels a young boy with golden hair and eyes and a blushing face had once told her she was ethereal before proposing marriage. A man with hair as white as snow once regarded that she had good birthing hips as well, but she always felt that she wasn’t enough. She was so tiny, never growing any taller than when she was a child. There were so many other women or men he could choose from. So many that would kill for even a chance of being in her place, that would kneel at his feet and beg for both his love and his blood. So why her? Why the only one who refuses him? Was it her denial that turned him onto her? No. That can’t be it. She had given herself to him once, spreading her legs and allowing him to put his tongue inside of her, a moment of vulnerability that she regretted deeply. The endless questions ache her already exhausted brain.

"I won't..." She’s starting to fade, eyes feeling heavier by the second. She thinks she feels Douma’s hand rubbing her hair, but she’s unsure. He rests her head in his lap as she fights to keep her mind awake. It’s no use, the blood she lost in addition to not sleeping for well over twenty four hours made her so tired, and the bedding he placed her on was so comfortable, it couldn’t be helped.

"I won't let you..." It’s barely audible, a mumble that was a desperate attempt of speaking her mind before she fell into a deep slumber. Douma runs his thumb down her cheekbone, fingertip tracing her delicate features like she was a painting, he makes sure to devote the sight to his memory. She was so much more peaceful when asleep, her beauty not twisted by anger and despair. If he could keep her like this forever, he would. It will be easier after he turns her, the majority of demons don’t remain with their human memories. He’ll be able to mold her into something powerful she’ll still be his Shinobu, just…reborn. Whether she chooses acceptance or not, Douma is set in his plans.

"You don't have a choice, my dear."

Chapter Text

If Shinobu Kocho was one thing, it was angry. She'd always had that fiery feeling deep down in her chest even as a child, so it was no surprise that anger was her first instinctual response at the situation she found herself in, trapped in the claws of a demon. Her failure to have Douma eat her and kill himself ignited a rage deep down that could not be tamed. 

Shinobu would spit countless amounts of insults at him, scratch and hit and kick anytime she got the chance. Knowing the wisteria was still in her quite potently, she tried to use her saliva and blood against him, slicing her palms with anything sharp she could find to stab at him or spitting in his eyes hoping the wisteria would burn them straight out of the sockets. It did work, for a moment, the dark purple veins mixed with blood red would sprout from his skin and make him kneel over with a pained grunt, but his body was too strong and he would heal in a matter of seconds, seemingly more invigorated than distressed.

She got depressive after her attempts to kill him failed, preferring to sleep whenever she could even if she wasn't tired. She'd also become quite self detrimental, Douma had to clear the room of anything sharp due to how many times she attempted to stab herself, reprimanding her with a teasing voice to 'not be so naughty' every time he would have to snatch her hand away from slicing her own wrists or throat. Shinobu also caught the woman who ran her baths checking her clothes to make sure she didn’t squirrel anything sharp away for later use.

Then came the inevitable moment of acceptance. She couldn't escape, she couldn't kill him or herself, she was stuck. It only made her feel worse to live in misery, so despite her reluctance she accepted the small comforts that Douma would give her. It truly wasn't the worst thing to have hot meals whenever she pleased and fine clothing to wear...but then she started to get sick.

It started with nausea, written off at first to her aversion of smoke. Douma had a tendency to smoke tobacco from a water pipe when they would sit together in the evenings, or what is mornings? She wasn't sure with the lack of sunlight down here. The smoke filled the room quite heavily and made her cough, she'd scolded him that it made her feel sick, though even after he stopped her stomach still felt unsettled.

She only got worse from there. Her hands would tremor, and she developed what felt like a never ending headache that made her see doubles of everything. She had dismissed Douma's concerns of getting a doctor, telling him that she felt fine. She pushed him away until she couldn't anymore, she couldn't pick up her own chopsticks due to her shaking hands, and anytime Douma would feed her she would just vomit it all up later.  Her head ached too much to do anything more than lying down in the darkness, and her body felt weak from the violent shivers racked through her. Her body had become accustomed to the constant amount of wisteria she was taking, and now that she was without it, her body craved it.

"Most likely withdrawals from whatever she had been taking during her absence, Lord Douma." 

The man says, a doctor, conveniently a member of Douma's cult. He was summoned by Douma down to their underground rooms after Shinobu had started to run a fever that wasn't breaking and hallucinating her dead family staring at her from the other side of the room. Middle aged—she thinks, her vision is still quite blurry at time with her headaches—with large rounded spectacles. He had his medical license revoked after doing what was considered a controversial and illegal procedure for a newly pregnant woman who was trying to escape from her abusive husband. He'd found his way to Douma a month after Shinobu left, and had been told that she was his bride that had runaway after being deceived by a jealous advisor that wanted Douma to marry his own daughter instead. Shinobu doesn't try to think about that lie too much.

"Do you know what substance she used during her addiction?" He asks, feeling Shinobu's forehead with the back of his hand after checking the tempo of her racing heartbeat. She was covered in sweat, and despite the blanket Douma desperately tried to keep tucked around her she kicked it away again, feeling too warm for it. If she wasn't concerned of her own decency in front of these two men she'd have stripped off her clothes as well.

"Wisteria. I believe she concocted her own recipe and took it in capsules, but she could've also injected it." Douma is standing in front of both of them, his arms crossed as his palm rubs at his chin and jaw. His worry for her seems somewhat genuine, even if he plays up the act of a man concerned with his love's wellbeing for his follower. Shinobu knows that he's more likely than not just confused at her state more than bothered by it.

"Wisteria? That's quite strange. I've never heard of anyone using the flowers for recreational use." The doctor mutters, fishing in his bag until he pulls out a small wooden box. He clicks it open to reveal a lining of glass tubes and syringes, and gently lifts her wrist to plunge the needle into her inner forearm.

"Poor thing was manipulated into believing that it was to keep her safe. I think it was just a plan to have her poison herself until she died. Luckily we found her when we did." 

Kneeling down to copy the doctor's stance, Douma reaches out to gently turn her face away from looking at the syringe slowly pulling blood from her arm, his fingers on her jaw. His hand is cold, as it always is, and she gives an appreciative whimper when brings it up and runs it down the burning hot skin of her face. It's a welcome distraction from the pinch of the needle against her arm. Even if she detests the man, she wants his hands everywhere, his chilled skin is the only thing that has given her any comfort. The doctor clears his throat quite awkwardly, interrupting the moment between the two. 

"I see. I will conduct some tests if it's alright with you, just to be safe and determine how much of it truly is in her system. Though I cannot say if it will have long lasting effects on her." As he packs up his bag, making sure the glass tubes filled with her blood are properly sealed and closing his scribbled journals, he avoids looking at them due to the tiny noises now escaping Shinobu's lips from Douma's touch. Pride be damned, she couldn't feel shame from this. 

"For now, however, her body needs to regulate itself without it. As long as she's kept cold to reduce her fever, and given plenty of fluids to drink, she should be fine within the next few months. I'll be back next week." With a nod, he stands stiffly and fixes his tilted spectacles, looking to his Founder to allow his leave. 

Douma waves his hand absentmindedly at the man, who scurries off like a scared cat seconds after he's dismissed. He seems too caught up in Shinobu. This was the closest she had allowed him since returning without being violent, and the touch was equally as pleasurable for him as it was for her.

"Does that feel good?" He asks softly as he grasps the nape of her delicate neck. It does. It's like a small drink of water amongst the hellfire that she's found herself caught in. She gives him a hum, not wanting to speak, and Douma keens in delight. 

"More, please." She whimpers, voice barely audible. Lifting her hands weakly to claw at his arms and shoulders. All she sees is his gleaming fangs and the scripted kanji marking his eyes. He scares her. He is the monster that haunts her nightmares each night. But if that were true how could his touch feel so sweet? How could she crave the very man that made her chest tighten in fear? The reality of knowing that she wants him closer tastes bitter in her mouth, and she swallows the feelings down in defeat. 

Douma obliges her, like a love stricken man he stripes off his clothes until his chest is bare and he can gather her up to hold against him. Shinobu sighs at the feeling of his cool skin against her own feverish body, purring like a content kitten. Her cheek pressed against his clavicle, she can feel the rumbles of giggles he holds back. She doesn't take offense, Shinobu knows that he's not judging her, his happiness is boyish at best. Giddy that she's allowing him to do such things.

As purple eyes begin to droop, finally feeling some sense of comfort, Shinobu hopes that her fever wins and she forgets this moment ever happened between them. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I don't want to become a demon."

Douma is lucky that Shinobu chooses to say this after the doctor has already left their rooms, the tall man still standing at the door where he had dismissed his loyal follower who had been monitoring Shinobu’s health for the last month. 

He turns to her with a small noise of confusion. The doctor had said only good things, the wisteria in her blood from his last observation the week before had gone down significantly, and her body seemed to finally be adjusting to being without it. Despite the tremors still lingering in her hands she showed no signs of any neurological damage.

She should be happy that she is healthy, that she won’t have to suffer anymore from the consequences of her actions, but she’s not…because now it means she’s only closer to her doomed fate.

"Why not?" He asks, tilting his head and walking over from the door to where she was kneeled by the futon. 

"How could you ask such a shameless question?" She scoffs at him, but the man remains blank. It doesn’t make sense to her, how endlessly frustrating he can be with not understanding what she says. "What joy would it bring me to stay in the shadows for eternity? Never be able to eat my favorite foods? To be unable to carry my own children and watch us all grow older?"

Shinobu resists shedding the tears that come to her eyes, she so rarely spoke so much of her own dreams, the fear of opening her heart and having him poke and prod at it didn’t allow her to. She shakes her head when he still doesn’t look to understand her. 

“Being a demon is no life to live." 

Hearing as Douma lets out a huff, she turns to look at him. He’s crouched down by her side, still towering over her due to his height. Shinobu feels a twinge of jealousy, she’s always wished that she would’ve grown taller.

"But you would be given so much power! You could live without the worry of pain or suffering, especially when you’re by my side…”

Douma looks...upset. His face is taut and his hands are scrunched into the excess fabric of his pinstriped pants, mirroring her own thought that he cannot figure her out no matter how much he tries. Shinobu thinks he looks funny like that, such a stark difference to his usual carefree self.

"If you wish to prolong your human life, I could always give you a child like you said?" Douma says, and Shinobu feels as though he has wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed. Such a jarring statement despite its simplicity, it makes her feel like she can't breathe.

"Of course, it's not really ideal, and I have no idea if it's even conceivable, a half-human half-demon mutt? Though I could always speak with his Lordship, perhaps I could change you after you have the baby in your belly?"

The thought makes her shudder, and she swallows down an uncomfortable knot in her throat. A dark haired, chubby cheeked, rainbow eyed baby suckling at her breast. Would they attain the same appetites as their father? Would they crave the taste of blood instead of the milk from her body? She wonders if tiny fangs would sprout from their teething gums, if little fingers would grow claws instead of fingernails. Would she birth a monster instead of a baby?

"I'm good with babies! Even if they're loud and needy, but it doesn't really make me happy to share your attention so much—" 

"No." Shinobu says, cutting off Douma's ramblings. He wasn't being malicious, just trying to cater to what he thought she wanted, but his words felt like a punch to her gut. She couldn't bare to even think of bringing a child into this mess, the thought alone was too much for her.

"Are you sure?" Douma asks, tilting his head again at her sulking form. When he doesn't receive a response, he claps his hands together loudly and stands.

"Well, that's decided then! No child." 

Shinobu pays him no mind as Douma goes about the room, it was still his rooms after all, even if she was staying in them more. Rummaging around in the chest and kyodai nearby while muttering to himself under his breath. He makes a small sound of satisfaction when he finds what he was looking for, a skip to his step as he goes back to standing in front of Shinobu. He clears his throat when she doesn’t immediately pay attention to him, and she notices that he’s holding something for her. 

A comb.

It’s small, and looks to be made of what she thinks it’s ivory. Truly a beautiful little trinket, she wonders if he uses it on his own long choppy hair when it needs to be brushed. Douma smiles at her softly as he looks down.

"If you allowed me, I'd like to brush your hair."

Cheeks warming as she realizes the state she looks to be in. Her hair knotted together into a large nest of black and purple, she had shed her butterfly hairpin after her headaches had started getting worse when she first got sick, but by the time she felt good enough to use it again her hair was too much of a mess to pin up. He wasn’t teasing with his words, but Shinobu didn’t like to look such a mess. Despite the nightly baths she takes she was never able to untangle the thick waves, so she nods at him. 

Douma seems happy at that, seating himself criss crossed behind her as he starts to pet at her dark locks with his hand, smoothing the stray strands before starting to work the comb through the matted mess of hair. Despite his attempts to be gentle, she can’t help but wince at each attempt to brush through the tangles. 

As Shinobu sits dutifully, listening to Douma’s quiet hums of unknown music, she can’t help but to look at the skull that stared at her each night she went to sleep.

It's the only thing she couldn't break, the thought of shattering what used to be a living human put a bad feeling in her stomach. Douma was quite protective of it as well, Shinobu had woken up a few times to him brushing its hair and pinning in a different decorative jeweled pin. She wonders who had such a hold on this unfeeling demon that he would treasure their bones in his own room? She can't help herself. She has to ask him. The empty hollows where its eyes were once held stare down and practically burn into her skin. 

"The skull, with long black hair, why do you keep it away from the others?" She asks him timidly, still staring at the skull placed ever so delicately on top of the jade vase. Shinobu isn't sure if it's a sensitive topic or not, and doesn't want to risk upsetting him.

"That was my mother." He says, velvety tongue the same as always. Shinobu can't help the way her eyebrows raise up in surprise, she had forgotten that he was once human, that he had parents and a childhood. It's hard to imagine a beast cuddled up in the embrace of its mother. 

"She never was much of a real mother to me. Paranoid, jealous, manipulative, so very human...she and my father exploited my features, established the Paradise Faith to worship me." He pauses briefly when she whimpers after snagging a knot. "They said I was a special child, one that could hear the voices of the gods, though they never spoke to me." 

So, this was his true story. Not the faux coverup that he had told her when she was unaware of his true nature. How strange, that he didn't make the cult himself. He was born into it, forced to a mantle that he never asked to be in from birth. She winces again as he works through a nastier knot the best he can with the comb, wondering why he's decided to be truthful with her now.

"I never believed in any of it. Gods, Buddha, karma, the afterlife...I felt pity for those who came to me asking for advice on their desires, or begging for help to end their suffering, even though I didn't understand any of it, I still tried my best to give them some guidance. I was really smart and kind as a kid, y'know." 

"You're an atheist?" She says, trying to turn her head to look at him. 

"Mhm, I've told you before." Douma is nodding at her, watching as she purses her lips. How ironic, a man who claims to speak to gods doesn't even believe in their existence. It makes her resent him a bit more in a way. "You don't agree with my beliefs?" He asks her, somewhat teasingly.

"I believe in Heaven and Hell, and that justice is served in the end for those who deserve it. If you don't, what do you think happens after death?" She asks, challenging him. She'd never thought differently of her own beliefs, Kanae and her parents were in heaven, Tsumugi, Ritsu, and Chiyo are as well. Even a small part of her hopes that Masato is there too. 

"Nothing." He says. How can one simply believe in nothing? Though she's confused by the answer she doesn't ask him what he means. There is no explanation that would make sense to her. Shinobu wonders what caused him to have such cynical thinking, the centuries he's lived as a demon, or was he conditioned to it by the way he was raised as a child prophet? Was he simply born this way? She doesn't think she'll ever know the truth, she's not sure Douma even knows himself.

"Did you kill them?" She asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that was falling upon them,

"No." Douma doesn't hesitate in his answer, placing the comb down for a moment to work his fingers against another tangled up strand. Shinobu holds back a scoff.

She doesn't believe him at first. He realizes this and laughs lightly.

"My father...enjoyed the company of other women in Paradise Faith, and often fell into bed with them. When my mother found out she killed him, and then herself with the same knife." A heavy feeling sets in her stomach at the way he so gently explains such horrors to her. Had he no remorse for the deaths of his own parents? 

"It was quite the mess, I was only a child at the time, but I can remember the smell of blood lingering in my room for days after." Douma says. Shinobu feels a tinge of shame for having herself assume that he would've killed and eaten them, his parents were dead long before he became a demon. They share that in common. It makes her feel strange, something she doesn't quite know how to put into words, to know that Douma had also witnessed his parents dead in carnage at such a young age. 

"There we are, all done." He says with a final brush of the comb through her smooth hair. Trailing his hands down her shoulders to rest on her upper arms, squeezing them gently. Shinobu doesn't say, but the relief of her untangled hair is evident in the way her neck relaxes ever so slightly.

A knock interrupts them, and Douma shoots up from his place behind her to practically skip over to the door. Shinobu hears only bits of the small conversation between Douma and whoever was at the door, but her interest piques when he finally turns holding a large tray, the scent of warm food reaching her nose.

"Dinner! I know you still have trouble holding your own chopsticks, so I'll just feed you instead."  Douma says, carefully walking over with the tray to sit in front of her now. 

Something he had said stays in Shinobu's mind, and the ever present need to know more eats at her.

"You said that your parents exploited your features, what does that mean?" Shinobu asks, watching as Douma sets down the tray of steaming dishes. A bowl of rice and meat, another filled with what she thinks is soup or broth. It was  a quite plain dinner, but she still had trouble holding down food some nights, so Douma instructed whoever was in charge of her meals to keep the food light until she was better.

"When I was born, they believed I was divine, a gift blessed to them from the gods. It wasn't often children were being born with light hair and rainbow eyes." He gathers a bit of rice and meat from the bowl, bringing the chopsticks to her sealed lips. "Now, take a bite please." 

"You were born with your colored eyes?" It's another distraction, but her curiosity is very much real. She'd always just assumed that he gained them as a modification after being transformed into a demon. Something beautiful to help lure prey into his grasp. Douma points her attention briefly to one of the tapestries hung on the walls, where a child no older than six was sat wrapped in robes and prayer beads. While the child's hair was shown as shorter than his tresses now and lacking the bleeding mark on the top of his head, he had the same carefree smile and rainbow eyes. 

"Yes, they are mine." She dodges his next attempt at shoving the food in her mouth, and he audibly sighs in annoyance. "Would you take a bite now?" He groans at her.

"They're beautiful. I never told you that before."

Douma visibly brightens at the compliment, but his demeanor falls seconds after. A frown marring his face as he furrows his brows at her. "I'm starting to think you're avoiding eating the food, Shinobu." He says as he drops the bite back into the bowl, and Shinobu shakes her head at him innocently.

"I'm just asking questions. Is it so wrong that I'm interested in knowing more about the man who I'm supposed to marry?" Widening her eyes with a little frown on her face, she knows how manipulative she's being. Instead of being resistant and stubborn to everything he does, she's playing his game now. To her chagrin he seems to have figured out a way around it, furrowing his eyebrows before raising his finger and waggling at her.

"For every bite you take, I'll tell you something about myself." He says, somewhat reluctantly. It's the first time she's seen him so unsure of his own words. Shinobu scrunches her nose as she considers them, it was a fair request, but she wasn't expecting it. He loved to talk, especially about himself, so she had assumed that he would be eager to tell her even more about the story of his life. Nevertheless, this might be her only opportunity anytime soon to learn true information about him. So she takes it.

"How old are you?" She asks, something she had wondered ever since she witnessed the walls of skulls lining the tombs underneath the temple. Douma scrunches his face, much like she did moments before, and scratches at his head. Clearly racking his brain to find the answer.

"Well, you know I'm twenty, physically...but I think I should be a hundred and thirty-three this coming year." He finally answers, and Shinobu blinks in shock. She thought him to be older, imagining a demon with his ranking had to have been. She wants to ask him how he achieved his rank at such a young age for a demon, but he is looking at her expectingly, face titled down towards the food as he raises one of his thick eyebrows. Shinobu resists the urge to roll her eyes at him, as much as she loathes him he did respect his part of their deal, so she must as well.

She opens her lips obediently, and he smiles. Gathering a large bite of rice and meat with the chopsticks and stuffing it into her mouth. He watches intently as Shinobu chews, the food making her cheeks appear fuller, and when she swallows he finally seems satisfied, gesturing her with his hand to keep asking away.

"What do you miss about being human?" It's a not so subtle poke. She's been very clear that she wants to avoid demonism, so she thinks bringing up his own past humanity just might allow him to remember the good parts of being human.

"...Drinking sake." He finally answers, looking down to gather up another bite.

"You enjoyed sake?" She asks, surprised by his answer. She knew demon biology didn't allow them to eat or drink regular foods, but she never imagined he cared much with how he so easily could stomach eating human flesh.

"Mm, very much so, especially as a young man. I believe that counts as an answer, so bite please." He says, already having the chopsticks pressed to her lips. Damn him, she hadn't even realized. She opens again for another bite which he happily gives her. 

"What did you mean when you said you didn't understand your follows desires or suffering?" Shinobu asks, her mouth still full as she quickens her chews. The food she swallows feels heavy going down her throat, but she ignores the discomfort. She's watching Douma intently, his lips are pressed into a firm smile, but it's too tight to be genuine. Theres a small sense of satisfaction as she realizes his mask is cracking.

"You enjoy asking me uncomfortable questions, don't you?" He finally says, a small laugh bubbling from his words. It's forced, however, she can tell that almost instantly. 

"That was our deal, Douma. Respect it or I won't eat anymore." Shinobu says, narrowing her eyes. She does hope that he chooses to answer, the food tastes quite good on her empty stomach and it would disappoint her if he stopped so suddenly. Douma shakes his head, a locke of silvery blonde hair falling to his face.

"Stubborn girl." 

Before he answer, he grabs the small bowl of what she thinks is miso and brings it to her lips. As he tips back the bowl and the warm liquid touches her tongue it confirms her to be correct. She wonders if this counts as a bite.

"I have wealth, status, immortality...I have everything yet nothing at all. No desire for anything or anyone. It didn't make sense to me when people would come asking me for my advice about money, love, or status." Douma explains this to her as she drinks, the warmth from the miso soothing her sore throat. After a moment, she brings her hand up to signal to him that she doesn't want anymore for now. 

"It didn't make sense...until I met you." 

Tongue peaking out as she licks her lips, catching the droplets of broth that attempted to fall down her chin. His eyes seem to linger on her lips as she does that, and Shinobu feels her cheeks blush pink. His stare is too intimate for who they are to one another, a high rank demon and a girl who promised to eradicate his whole existence. 

Even so, Shinobu doesn't resist when Douma reaches towards her. Hand cupping her face as his thumb brushes at her bottom lip, pulling gently at the soft plumpness to expose a flash of white teeth. Dull, not sharp like his own, unable to rip into meat and tear it apart. 

"It was strange, that night in the mountains I thought of stealing you from that demon to eat you, but when I saw your face while you were fighting it felt as if my dead heart had started beating in my chest for the first time. You were so beautiful, so determined, my blood was rushing and my stomach was flipping. I didn't know what it meant, I'd never felt anything like it before." 

He's too close now, barely an inch away from her, the smell of his natural scent fills her nose, spicy musk and lotuses, it practically intoxicates her. The only thing that separates them is the tray of food that was seated on the ground. She can feel his breath fanning across her lips, and wonders if he actually needs to breathe or if it simply habit from his past life as a human. 

"Have you felt like that before, Shinobu?" He asks, both of them locking eyes for what feels like eternity before Douma finally moves, brushing his lips featherlight against her own. Shinobu wants to press forward, to capture his lips and tongue with her own, but she doesn't. Yanking away with a flinch, the tray of food wobbles as the dishes clank together in a dramatic sound. Hands reaching out to steady the tray, Shinobu keeps her eyes downcast to avoid Douma's gaze. 

"I don't have anymore questions." She says.

Douma doesn't react to that, only reaching forward to take the spilled bowl of miso and empty dish from the tray. Shinobu resists flinching again as his hand grazes against her own still tensely holding down the ornate tray, trying to focus on the intricate painted details, but there are too many thoughts racing through her distracted mind. 

Why had she allowed him to get so close? Why did she almost let him kiss her? Was she truly so weak that she would succumb to his soft touches and sweet words so easily? 

"Do you like that?" He asks, snapping her out of her trance. She looks down to see that she was absentmindedly tracing the tiny fishes that were painted inlay on the tray, a teensy little school of orange fish that were grouped around a purple lotus flower floating on the water. Shinobu feels something strange bubbling up inside of her, an ache and longing for the memory of her own little fish.

"I have a goldfish." She says quietly, and Douma snorts.

"A fish? Like to eat?" He asks, tilting his head in confusion at her. Shinobu resists the ever increasing urge to roll her eyes at him. 

"No. He's my pet. His name is Fugu." 

Her beloved Fugu. Gifted to her by a shop keeper, Shinobu had bandaged his young daughter's knee after the small girl had taken a nasty tumble down a hill. She'd never been fond of furry animals, Chachamaru had frightened her endless times when she would wake to find the dreaded beast cuddled up in bed with her, so when she gazed into the glass bowl and watched the tiny aquatic animal swim around, it tugged at her heartstrings in a way no other animal had before. He was a hearty fish, round and bright in color with his orange and white scales. She was quite possessive of him, making sure to keep him plump and healthy with a clean bowl and plenty of plants to give him entertainment. She misses him dearly, and hopes that he is being taken care of. 

"How silly, a fish for a pet? Why keep something you could just make your meal instead?" Douma says, snickering at his own jokes. Shinobu feels a bit offended, while he is not a traditional pet to many he is still hers. 

"I could ask you the same thing, and you wouldn't have an answer for it either." Shinobu says, voice snippy and short. A bad joke. To refer to the very living humans that walked on the floors above her and worshipped his very word his meals. 

"Clever." Douma chuckles, but there’s a certain darkness to his eyes that makes her shiver.

She doesn't respond to that. By the silence that comes over them she realizes that he expected her to. 

"Why a fish?" He finally asks, but he sounds quieter than before. She can feel her cheeks warm while she thinks of the best way to respond to his question, she could always stay silent and not say anything at all, but it would be quite rude considering how many of her questions he had answered just moments before. It's something she hadn't admitted to anyone aloud. While her distaste was clearly evident, she had always been too self-conscious of actually saying the words to someone else. 

"I don't like animals with fur. They disturb me." 

They don't speak much after that, though they usually don't so late at night. Douma gives her his back as she changes from her clothes to a fresh yukata, plain white and cotton, though he had seen her naked body he still allows her a sense of privacy to not offend her decency. Sleepiness had start to tug at her mind now, and she was suffering the consequences of trying to push herself to stay awake. Rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand, she hadn't realized Douma had started to speak again.

"—Must be going now, Shinobu. I hope you have sweet dreams." 

Douma grasps her chin gently, taking care not to knick her with his claws, and turns her towards him. Cool lips pressing to her forehead in a lingering kiss, when he pulls away there's a moist smacking noise that makes her cringe. Douma doesn't seem to notice, patting the top of her head before he turns to leave.

Shinobu feels confused as she watches his retreating form. He had held her as she drifted to sleep most nights now, the coolness from his skin had calmed her feverish nightmares for a good while, and then it simply became routine. He seems to have finally broken that routine. Shinobu doesn't know if she's disappointed or not, but she does have more trouble falling asleep without him than she thought she would...

When she awakens the next day, she is alone in their room. Feeling better than the last few mornings she had, perhaps due to the food she had finally managed to keep down or simply time doing its job of healing her. Stretching her arms up to feel her shoulders pop, something catches her sight. Something new. Despite her body still tense with sleep, she stands rather quickly to approach the new addition that came seemingly from nowhere. It's a large bowl, decorated with fine carvings in the ornate wood frame, it's placed on what looked to be a newly built shelf. Three little goldfish swim about inside. 

They're smaller than Fugu, probably younger as well, not as bright in color and clearly in need of some better foods. Shinobu tilts her head as she examines them further, fingers reaching out to touch the beautiful tank lightly to make sure that it is real and not a hallucination from her own mind. The darkest one, with shimmering golden scales, flutters its tail territorially when it sees her.

"I thought you would like them." Douma says, and Shinobu flinches, looking over at the large man standing in front of the doors tensely. She hadn't known he was there, assuming him to be attending to his flock in the temple above. So he was the one who put them here. Where he got the little fishes, she doesn't know, and she doesn't ask either. Perhaps he sent a follower to a nearby town to retrieve them, or maybe he even fished them out himself from the lotus ponds surrounding the temple. It's better for it to remain a mystery.

"They're not Fugu." She says lightly, tracing her ever so trembling finger with a featherlight touch against the glass, watching as the smallest one with tiny white spots like freckles follows it, little bubbles blowing from its mouth. She sees out of the corner of her eye that Douma shifts his body uncomfortably at her words, taking them as rejection of his gift. He is acting a bit strange, his usual self would've deflated, pouted, whined if he thought he had disappointed her, but now he is vacant, expressionless, his hands held tightly behind him. Kaleidoscopic eyes glowering and intensely studying her every move. Had he finally removed his mask again? Was this his true reaction to what he believed was her refusal? Shinobu isn't sure.

"But...they are quite lovely." 

Looking at him, the stiffness of his body seems to relax when he realizes that she didn't rebuff them. A closed lip smile comes to his pale face, and he nods to himself. Coming over to sit beside her, kneeled by the tank, Douma tilts his head as the largest one bumps against the glass in front of him. Shinobu holds back a giggle at the territorial little fish. There's a warmth in her chest that wasn't there before, but it doesn't scare her as much this time. This tiny act was the closest thing she had gotten to true kindness from him. They were not her Fugu, but they were something pure, something she could love just like she had with her own fish. 

"Thank you." She says, and she means it. Douma had given her plenty of gifts, from fine clothing only the wealthy could afford to all of the pharmaceutical and botany books she could dream of, but these fish were the only one that had truly evoked such a strong emotion from her. 

She realizes it's the first time she's given a true smile to him since she found out he was a demon, but the thought doesn’t upset her like she thought it would.

Chapter Text

Shinobu was bored.

She felt like a butterfly trapped in a net. Fluttering her wings desperately but going nowhere at all. Her skin ached to feel sunlight, a breeze blowing through her hair, any sort of sensation that came from the real world and not these underground chambers.

Douma didn't leave her without entertainment, whilst he was a monster he was at least hospitable. She had countless amounts of books to spend her day reading, ink and paper to write or draw whatever morbid and macabre thoughts came to her mind. Though all of those quickly became mundane, the only thing that was worth keeping her attention was her effort of growing her fish and keeping their tank clean and tidy. She would read occasionally when her fish were resting on the leaves or if she couldn't clean their little home anymore, but the books given to her made her roll her eyes in annoyance. Douma fancied romance and fairytale novels rather than her taste in pharmaceutical and botany books. It makes her think to ask him to get her some, but she doesn't want him using that against her.

That was another issue in itself. 

Douma.

She had no one to talk to but him, no one to even see but him—and the occasional attendant woman who all seemed to have taken a vow of silence—Perhaps since Douma can't remember what it's like to be human instead he sees her like a fish, something he can keep in a singular space with little bits of enrichment so she doesn't completely go insane. When she was alone she would walk circles in his room for countless amounts of time just so she would have something to do rather than just sit. It was incredibly daft, and she often felt as though she was losing her mind. 

Shinobu was so, so very bored. 

An incredibly sad and pathetic activity she often took part in was simply lying in her futon and staring up at the ceiling. Douma had caught her multiple times staring into nothingness and would join her for a few moments before becoming too antsy and snatching her up to mindlessly talk or to play a game like sugoroku. Sometimes when she would lay down she would imagine up stories of what her life would be like if she had gone with the demon slayers, or other times she would sleep and let her dreams do it for her.

Though sometimes, when she knows Douma isn't coming to the rooms for a bit due to his...dining habits. Shinobu would let her mind wander to other places, thinking of wide shoulders and large arms and a sinful tongue doing so many things to her. She would let her hand wander down until her yukata was loosened and she could sneak her fingers down to that special place between her legs. Her boredom was often satiated for a while when she was done, and a woman does have her needs after all.

That was precisely what she was doing now. 

Douma had left hours ago wearing his ceremonial clothes, his crown like hat titled to the side making him look even more idiotic than he usually did, so Shinobu knew she had time to please herself for a good while. She had found that it wasn't as fun when she let herself get straight to the point to finish as quickly as possible, and through practice she found a way to tease herself and make her own legs shake, she didn't need a man to do that for her, she didn't want a man knowing her body better than herself. 

Two of her slender fingers lightly rubbed at her soft folds down below, parting her lips to feel the sticky wetness that leaked from her opening, coating her all the way down to her knuckles. She had been touching herself for a while now, making sure to hit the small bundle of nerves that made her stomach tighten. She had brought herself close to finishing three times now, before pulling away each time and letting her body rest for a moment before going again. She knew the more she waited, the sweeter her release would be when she finally allowed herself to come. 

Shinobu's other hand had been grasping and squeezing at her pale breast, more for performative reasons than actual pleasure. Purple eyes clenched shut while her whole body was glistening with sweat and flushed such a pretty shade of pink. 

As much as she loathes to admit it to herself, she can't help but think of the demon that is holding her captive as she touches her pussy. He was so very handsome, and her mind often flashed to when he licked her down below for what felt like hours, his tongue reaching parts inside of her that had never been touched before. If she didn't despise him as much as she did, maybe she would even ask him to do it again. The bastard wasn't shy at all about sharing his intimate fantasies about her.

Thinking of his deep, melodic voice telling her all of the dirty and shameless things he longed to do to her, from bending her over and fucking her for hours to having her sit on his face and suffocate him with her wetness. The heat that had been pooling in her belly only getting warmer from the memories of his lewd and unabashed want.

Feeling her pussy leak even further, Shinobu lets out a gasp as she rubs harder at her clit. Biting at her bottom lip as her mind tries to focus on finally bringing her over the edge. Something bugs her, however, and she can’t quite get there. Frustration building up in her chest, she doesn’t know why she can’t.

That is until she opens her eyes, and realizes that she’s not alone.

Rainbow eyes are looking down at her, palm resting on his cheek with a large grin on his face, showing gleaming white teeth and sharp fangs. Shinobu feels her heart drop into her chest.

"Hey, Shinobu." Douma says cheerily. 

She's frozen on the spot, hands still in their places on her breast and in between her legs. She's been caught, she's mortified. How long had he been there watching her?! Shameful! Had he seen her do this before? Pervert! So many thoughts race frantically through her mind while her mouth gapes open so similar to her goldfish. Douma seems to relish in the moment.

"Whatcha doing?" 

His words snap Shinobu from her daze, and her face pales as she realizes he is now looking happily at her breasts and exposed body. She moves so fast it seems humanly impossible, snatching her hands away from her body like she's been burned and wrapping her yukata tightly around herself. Embarrassment, and a small bit of annoyance, fills her body as she harshly sits upright, crossing her arms over her chest to protect her already damaged modesty.

"Nothing." She grumbles, scrunching her nose. Her body ached for her to keep going, to find that release and make herself cum. She would rather die than do it now that he knows. Douma laughs brightly at her.

"That didn't look like 'nothing', it looked like you were touching your—"

"Don't you have someone else to go and bother?" Shinobu asks, trying desperately to keep her voice cheery. She doesn't want him to know that this got to her, if he knows it got a reaction from her then he'll keep doing it. The silvery haired man shakes his head, smile growing as he snaps his fingers.

"Nope! I'm all yours." He says, moving forward to wrap her arms around her body. She has half a thought to try and push him away, but she knows that even if she gave him her mightiest shove he wouldn't move at all.

"Why do you do this?" Digging the palms of her hands into her eyes, a slight headache begins to pang into her head. The words were simply a whisper, not supposed to be answered at all, barely audible to even her own ears. Douma answers anyway, unable to keep his own mouth shut. 

"Cause I love you, Shinobu!"

Shinobu feels her headache get worse.

Damn his hearing.

Feeling her cheeks warm in a blush at his words. She wishes he would stop saying that. Douma doesn't love her, if he loved her then he wouldn't have stolen her away, if he loved her then he wouldn't force her to marry him and become a demon. He couldn't love, he was incapable of it, what he had is an obsession with her, she is something pretty and new that caught his interest after centuries of boredom, and like the spoiled child he is, he had to keep her all for himself. He'd only recently started spouting his words of false love, and it seems he says it every conversation they have. He asks her constantly if she loves him back, but Shinobu never has an answer for him.

She won't say yes, but she can't say no. It bothers her that doesn't know why. 

Nuzzling into the side of her hair and purring like a feline, Shinobu cannot help the way her body melts into his as his muscular arms drawl tighter around her. Despite her initial jealousy at his large body, there's a strange and sick twist of fear and self-indulgence that comes whenever he displays his strength and size over her. He could gobble her up whole.

"I could help, y'know?" He whispers, his voice sensual. A shiver runs down her spine as he leaves a soft lingering kiss against her neck. It's supposed to be tempting, a hand luring her into too deep waters where she knows she won't be able to keep her chin above. If she takes his hand and lets him take her, she'll surely drown. 

Shoving herself away from him, Shinobu shakes any feeling of arousal off of her as she stands to leave the room and go to the bathing room to take a bath. She smells of sex and heady musk, and she still feels so very sticky. A bath will help. A bath will make her feel better.

"Go fuck yourself." She spits at him.

Douma doesn't laugh at that, not even a snicker. 

Perhaps she went too far with that one. A small twinge of guilt in her chest. The urge to apologize comes up in her throat but she swallows it down before the words can escape through her lips. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, Shinobu swears that she hears the strum of a biwa string behind her, but when she looks back, Douma is gone. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Douma always aimed to please his Lordship. 

From the moment Muzan grabbed him by his silvery locks of hair over a century ago and plunged his clawed fingers into his head, gifting him the ultimate reward of his blood, Douma knew that he could never allow himself to disappoint his Lord. That's how he raised so quickly in the ranks, that's how he was upper two despite being younger than most of his subordinates. 

Muzan often didn't give him missions like he did to the others, he even gave the lower moons more than him. Perhaps it was due to how Douma had more of a life than all of them, he had a temple and its followers to take care of, and now he had a soon to be wife to please! No time for silly things like finding that blue flower or eating Pillars that get too close.

But alas, when he was summoned he always came. The last time he was brought by the biwa lady to the infinity castle he had been a bit annoyed, his lovely Shinobu was laid out naked and beautiful before him when suddenly he was then in the shadows watching as lord Akaza yelled for Upper One. The summoning was from Lord Muzan himself, to inform them all how Upper Six was slain, truly a tragedy amongst them. Douma himself had personally turned the two siblings into demons, so to see them fall so soon at the hands of Slayers was heartbreaking. 

Now, it was just himself and Upper Three. His bestest friend Lord Akaza!

Lord Muzan pushed Douma to keep searching for the blue spider lily, while he tasked Akaza to find two children, such a silly thing. A young boy with a checked haori and hanafuda earrrings, traveling with his demon sister who had, shockingly, never consumed human blood and has conquered the sun. How intriguing! Such a young girl able to control her bloodlust and natural instinct to rip into human flesh.

After their master left, Douma realized that he had yet to share the news of his marriage. How shameful of him! Such a union should be celebrated, he should be screaming the news to every corner of the world. 

Especially with his best friend!

"Lord Akaza!" Douma calls, face cheery as he waves his hand back and forth in the air above hin. The man halts, muscular shoulders tensing. A perk of being his superior was that he had to listen to him, even if all he wanted to say was nonsense. He couldn't disrupt the order of things unless he were to challenge him.

"What is it?" The man grunts, fists clenched at his sides. Douma resists the urge to smirk at his obvious annoyance.

"I've found something—" He says cheekily, but is cut off before he can continue. Akaza moves quick, and he is suddenly almost nose to nose with Douma. It's the most eager he's ever seen him. 

"The blue spider lily?" He asks, voice frantic at the mere thought that it's been found. That would be ideal, if he did find the flower Lord Muzan could consume it and grant them with the ability to conquer the sun. He wouldn't have to stay and keep Shinobu in the shadows anymore. Unfortunately that wasn't the case, Douma had too much to prepare for his wedding to worry about that at the moment. He's sure that the demon girl will be found soon enough and consumed by his master anyway. He shakes his head, and Akaza deflates a bit. 

"Nope! I've found a bride! We're to be married within the year." Snapping his fingers happily and squeezing his eyes shut with a smile, Douma waits to hear the influx of congratulations and questions. Though none come, and when he  opens his eyes again Akaza is hopping away on the wooden platforms. Douma's shoulders fall in dejection.

"How grumpy." Douma says, the demon reminding him a bit of his Shinobu. Looking around at the emptiness of the infinity castle, he now realizes that he's completely alone. Scratching at his head, the biwa lady that usually transports them is nowhere to be found. That's not good, how is he supposed to get to Shinobu when he doesn't know how to get back to the temple?

Oh, he can't wait to see her. Every moment he spent apart from her felt like a lifetime. And how he found her earlier? Such a sweet little treat for him to think about. Douma is sure his butterfly was thinking of him as she touched herself. He hopes she's doing it again when he returns, that she opens her arms and begs him to please her. Oh, he can't wait.

As soon as he found that biwa lady, he could return home to her.

· · ─────── · ཐི༏ཋྀ· ─────── · ·

The warmth from her nightly baths were often the only time Shinobu felt the always tense muscles in her body relax. It was always cold in the rooms below, and Douma didn't help the matter. The man seemed to carry a cloud of frost around him that chilled her to her very bones.

When she was sick and feverish, it was often the only thing that could make her comfortable enough to sleep, but now it only made her teeth chatter and her skin tingle with goosebumps. She also hadn't gotten her release due to the frosty bastard either, he'd interrupted her right before she could push herself over the edge, so the warmth from the water felt nice against how tense and annoyed she felt in that matter as well.

There's a woman in the room, kneeling near the blue plush seat pillows that Douma had moved in so she could have somewhere to sit, Shinobu had also caught him once again smoking his water pipe on those pillows when she came back from her baths. The woman is folding what looks to be a pile of clean white blankets, the extra ones that Shinobu would bundle herself in when Douma insisted on staying all night with her.

Shinobu pays her no mind, heading straight for her fish tank. Kneeling down to look at them, she can't help but feel a sense of pride at how much healthier they've become. All three of them had grown in size since she was gifted them, the once tiny fish now plump and hearty, thanks to her strict feeding schedule that she developed with Fugu. Paddling their little fins, she could tell they were quite aggravated since she was running behind on their next feed. Smiling warmly at her fish, Shinobu grabs the small box of ground up food that was made for specifically for them. Pinching a large bit between her forefinger and thumb she watched as they excitedly swam to the surface of the water, nibbling at the food she dropped in with tiny bubbling mouths.

"You're smaller than I expected you to be." 

Shinobu can't help the flinch her body does as the woman speaks, she was quite startled from the suddenness that broke the silence of the room. Craning her neck back to see that the woman still has her back turned to her. It's the first time any one of them have spoken to her, most of the women Douma sent to aid her were silent, keeping their eyes down and lips sealed as they did their duties. Too intimidated to speak to their Founder's most prized possession. 

"Excuse me?" Shinobu asks with her eyebrows raised in shock. The woman hums to herself, placing another neatly folded blanket on the stack to her side. Shinobu looks at her, she's wearing a dark green kimono and her hair is pinned into a loose half bun.

Was she new? Had she only just recently joined the Paradise Faith?

"The others said you were beautiful. That our great Founder's bride was truly an ethereal image to see. A beauty crafted specially by the hands of the gods to fit by Lord Douma's side." The woman continues on, finally folding the last blanket and placing it to the side. She raises to her feet at the same time as Shinobu does, turning around slowly to meet her eyes. She's a beautiful woman, a pale heart shaped face and sharp green eyes that were narrowed down at Shinobu. She's younger than most of the other attendants that came down to these rooms, the youngest she's ever seen—In fact, Shinobu is certain that she has never seen this girl before at all.

"But I didn't think you'd be so...tiny." She sneers, an unsettling tone in her voice.

"What's your name?" Shinobu asks, nerves creeping in and making her fingers tremble. This woman clearly didn't like her, and the situation didn't feel right at all. There's a malice to the woman's words, something bitter and terrible twisting within them. 

"My name doesn't matter." She dismisses with a wave of her hand, stepping closer to Shinobu. She tries to keep herself calm, but something was very wrong. "Why I'm here, is what matters."

Shinobu furrows her eyebrows in confusion, and the woman scoffs at her.

"When I first received word that my family had been dismissed by the Paradise Faith after so many years, I almost couldn't believe it." Clicking her tongue disappointingly, the woman shakes her head from side to side. "Over thirty five years of service, of undying loyalty...all forgotten because they claimed my father manipulated his Founder's love to run away and poison herself so he would marry his own daughter instead?"

Something clicks in Shinobu's head, and who this woman was suddenly became so clear. She knew those sharp green eyes, the same eyes as her mother and younger brother. Masato had mentioned that he had three children...Chiyo, Ritsu, and a daughter who left to get married. Shinobu knew that only two of them were killed alongside him.

"Yuzuki..." Shinobu whispers, voice barely audible. 

A bitter laugh escapes Yuzuki's throat, and her eyebrows raise dramatically. She smiles now, but no joy behind it. "So you do know who I am?" Yuzuki sneers at her, and Shinobu finds herself nodding lightly.

"Tell me, what truly happened? Where are they really?" Yuzuki asks, tilting her head in faux confusion much like Douma does. "I can't find any proof of their existence now, it's as if they vanished after being dismissed. Mama's letters stopped coming, the townspeople say that Chiyo hasn't been seen at the markets in months."  

A glint of silver from her hands catches the light from the lanterns. A dagger, sharp and long and so very terrifying. Shinobu feels her throat tighten and her heart beat faster against her chest as she realizes what Yuzuki was here for. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you—" Shinobu starts, her voice quivering. Yuzuki cuts her off before she can say more.

"My husband thinks that they're dead. That they were killed by Douma." As if torturing her, Yuzuki brings the dagger into her line of sight, running a delicate finger along the sharp part of the blade. Does she intend to torture Shinobu? Or does she wish to kill her in revenge of her own slain family?

"He begged me not to return, this place is..." Her voice trails off as she looks at the tapestries hung on the walls, almost all of them of Douma, she doesn't have a word to describe the Paradise Faith. Yuzuki shakes her head, returning her focus back onto Shinobu. "Of course, he was never a believer. That's why I left Enteral paradise to begin with, so we could start anew—"

Taking a calm step closer, Shinobu stumbles back. She was so very defenseless, after all of her attempts to harm herself any little thing she could've used was taken away, now she doesn't have anything to use against the people that were trying to harm her.

"—Have children, make our own home, all the things I always dreamed of..." Yuzuki continues, a hint of a smile gracing her lips as her eyes softened at the thought. Her features quickly twist themselves back into bitterness when she looks at Shinobu again. 

"But then...my family disappeared. So my husband and I came back."

Shinobu feels her stomach drop heavily in fear as strong hands suddenly grip her upper arms from behind, twisting and pulling until they were forced to stay locked on her upper back painfully. Glancing frantically over her shoulder as she struggles, she sees a man with red eyes and black hair curling his lip in disgust at her. 

How is it that she is always finding herself in these situations?

"I knew it was a lie the moment I heard it. Papa would've never wanted Chiyo to marry Lord Douma, he would've never manipulated you into poisoning yourself. My papa was a kind man." Yuzuki is standing in front of her now, and Shinobu can see the streaks of tears that stained the woman's face.

"Masato was always kind to me. Please, you must trust me—" Shinobu says, voice frantic as she tries to explain. They would think she was insane if she told them the truth. Spouting nonsensical lies to save her own skin.

"Trust?" Yuzuki laughs, loud and brash, gritting her teeth together as she gets close to the shorter girls face. "Why would I ever trust you?"

Shinobu stops breathing as the dagger pokes at her clavicle, will she plunge it into her chest? Cut out her heart and leave it for Douma to long after? She doesn't know. Her thoughts are racing in her mind and she doesn't know what to do.

"You said I wouldn't believe you, hmm?" She whispers, pressing the dagger into her skin and watching as a droplet of shining red blood leaks from her pale skin. 

"I'm no fool, Shinobu Kocho. I know what he is." Yuzuki says, chin tilting up. Fear truly setting into her bones now, Shinobu can't help but hope for Douma to return and save her. She doesn't know how to get out of this, she's not strong enough to fight them off. She doesn't want to die. Not like this. 

"He's not a god." She spits, bringing the dagger above her head, Shinobu's eyes widen and breaths quicken. 

She is going to die tonight.

"And he can't protect you from this."

Throwing her weight back suddenly against the man, Shinobu uses the momentum of his stumble and kicks at Yuzuki as hard as she possibly can.Her foot lands directly on the woman's stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs as the dagger bounces off the ground with loud clanks. 

Moving quick, she yanks her arms from the man's bruising grip and elbows him in the gut, knocking him windless to fall back into a decorative pot. Shinobu goes for the dagger that laid on the floors. Yuzuki recovers quicker than Shinobu anticipated, and grabs at her wrists with sharp nails. 

It's truly a struggle, both women thrashing and throwing themselves around in a fight to get the dagger and not injure themselves in the process. A cry escapes Shinobu's lips as she feels the sharp blade slice at her palm and wrist, Yuzuki screeches as it stabs the sharp tip into her arms. 

Shinobu doesn't realize she's falling until she hits the ground, Yuzuki's husband had tackled her in an attempt to get her away from his wife. Yuzuki  landing on her hands and knees after being pulled  down with them during their fight. His heavy body landed on top of Shinobu, and she cries out. Something warm drips on her face as he quickly pushes himself to stand. Both Shinobu and Yuzuki look desperately for the dagger. 

It's not on the floor, it's not in either of their hands. No, the dagger was someplace else...

Lodged in the man's throat, blood bubbling from the wound as he stumble back in shock making a horrible gurgling noise. Yuzuki screams, raw and horrified, as she scrambles to crawl over to her dying love. Shinobu stays, frozen in shock, as she watches the husband and wife before her. Yuzuki is crying, almost hyperventilating each breath as she holds him in her arms and lap and her husband coughs blood onto her pale face. A pool of red flows beneath them, as Yuzuki's sobs turn into whispering begs and pleas.

He dies quickly, and the horrible gurgling stops. 

Yuzuki stops crying.

Silence fills the room, and Shinobu doesn't know what to do. The only noise filling her ears was the dripping pattern of blood that still spilled from the gaping wound on his throat. Yuzuki's blood covered hands slowly move, grabbing the dagger and delicately pulling it from his neck, before gently moving the dead man from her lap. 

It's like watching a predator move, Yuzuki stands terrifying and tall, face blank and covered in blood as she stares at Shinobu. Her prey. Her prey that killed her mate. Green eyes practically glowing, Yuzuki charges with the dagger raised at Shinobu with a scream filled with rage. 

Shinobu moves without thinking, grabbing at Yuzuki's wrist and pushing herself so they fall, twisting them around using her own body weight, she squeezes her eyes shut as they fall again. It's a horrible feeling that comes, a pressure of the hilt from the dagger pressing into her as the blade plunges into Yuzuki's chest. 

Opening her eyes, she feels Yuzuki's salty tears fall onto her lips as green eyes fade into death. Pushing herself away, Shinobu scrambles until her back presses against the nearest wall. Chest heaving from her dying down adrenaline as she stares at the two bodies lying just a few feet away from her.

She thinks she's going to be sick. 

"Shinobu?" 

Douma. He's here.

Standing in the doorway of his chambers, head titled in confusion at the scene before him. Such a stark contrast to how he found her hours earlier. Shinobu wants to run to him, she wants to run away from him. She doesn't know what she wants. How many times now had he'd seen her soaked in blood? Shinobu has lost count. Though now, for the first time it isn't her own blood she's covered in.

"What a mess." He says, looking down at the bodies and bloodied floors with a blankness that scares her. Tears fall at his words, and Shinobu tries to wipe them away frantically before realizing that she only smeared their blood on her face instead. 

"I didn't mean to." She says, voice trembling and shaking her head. Black and purple bangs falling into her eyes. 

"Of course, my love." Douma says, a soft smile on his face as he goes to crouch down before her. She shakes her head again, hands grasping the sides of her face as digging her fingers into her hair. It's true, she didn't mean to kill them. It was accidental, it was circumstantial, it was for her own survival. She didn't mean to stab them in the throat and chest, she didn't mean to watch as the life faded from their eyes as their blood poured from their bodies...

But she did. 

More tears welling up in her eyes, chest tightening as her whole body tingled in panic. She feels like she can't breathe, the walls of the room are closing in on her and everything smells like blood and death. She thinks of her own family, lying together on the floors with what was left of their bodies growing cold and their blood mixing together all while she sat unharmed in the closet.

She got Masato killed, she got Tsugumi and Ritsu and Chiyo killed. She killed Yuzuki and her husband. She hadn't even known his name.

All of their blood was on her hands.

"I didn't mean to, they were going to—" Shaking her head desperately, she tries to explain what happened. She didn't mean to, she didn't mean to. Douma hushes her. Large hands grabbing at her in an attempt to pull her into his chest and arms, Shinobu resists with a whimpering no. She doesn't want to be touched. She doesn't deserve it. She's a murderer. She's killed an entire bloodline. It doesn't take much effort from him to wrangle her struggling body into his arms, cradling her like you would a newborn baby.

There's still a smile on his face as he watches the tears fall from her purple eyes, clawed thumb wiping at the blood staining her cheek.

The bodies lay still across the room, Douma holds Shinobu until she finally stops trembling.

Chapter Text

For most of her life Shinobu believed she was a good person. Even if she had stolen, even if she had lied, she had never doubted that her soul was still good. 

She didn't believe in that anymore. Not after she had murdered two innocent people.

It was strange, how truly numb she felt. Shinobu had suffered so many losses in her life already, but this was a whole different kind of pain. A pain she felt she was undeserving of feeling. Why was she allowed to grieve the lives of the people who died at her hands? She felt horrible, she felt as if her feelings were dishonorable to their memory. 

It didn’t matter much, Douma would tell her. They were gone, and she had to move on eventually. Shinobu thinks it’s a cruel way of thinking.

They were in a sake bath together when he said it, Douma had been privy to them due to his inability to drink since becoming a demon. He'd also grown resistant of leaving her alone now due to the...incident that had occurred weeks prior. 

The tub was large enough for both of them to sit comfortably, in fact they could’ve easily fit at least five more people, but Shinobu was anything but comfortable, having him lay with her and embrace her in their rooms was one thing, but sitting together completely unclothed? It was scandalous. She wanted to protect her modesty the best she could. Sitting with a hunch with her arms crossed over her chest and her legs pressed together as tightly as she could squeeze them. Douma didn't seem to mind, despite his desires for her he was at least decent enough to not stare down into the water at her bare body.

"You're so glum nowadays, Shinobu. Won't you give me a smile?" Douma says, a tasting tilt to his voice as he flicks a bit of the warm sake over at her. Shinobu doesn’t flinch, still staring down at the steaming liquid with her hair falling in front of her eyes.

"Perhaps I would if you let me see anyone other than you." Shinobu finally whispers, dull and tiredness in her tone. Douma clicks his tongue, shifting his wide body and making the sake swash against the tub. "You know why I can't do that, my love." He says, disappointed now, though she knows it’s not real. He still has the same smile on his face when she peaks at him through her curtain of hair. Frustration grows within her, how could he always act so careless and cruel? 

"How do you expect this to end, Douma?" She turns her head to look at him as she asks, exhausted purple eyes sunken in and lined with dark circles. She watches as Douma shrugs, extending his muscular arms out to rest on the sides of the bath. Not a worry in his little world. She envies him in a way, how he could so easily relax despite the horrors he’s inflicted for over a century now when she can barely sleep without seeing a bloodied and dying Yuzuki in her nightmares every night.

"You become a demon, we live as man and wife together for eternity." He says, like it’s the simplest thing to him. Shinobu bites at the inside of her cheek, feeling a coppery taste mix with her spit. He was so very frustrating, she doesn’t know how much more of him she’ll be able to take before she snaps.

Maybe she could try killing herself again.

"Ok, I'll wager you a deal." 

Douma’s voice startles her a bit, she hadn’t expected him to keep talking when she was so lost in her thoughts. Tilting her head in curiosity, Shinobu feels an uncertainty settle in her stomach at his words. A deal with him was a deal with the devil. Douma perks up a bit when she looks at him. “Tell me what you want, a reasonable request, and I'll oblige." Lips twitching in a smirk, Douma’s rainbow eyes stare her down as her eyes widen. Anything she wants? 

The offer was too good to be true, so Shinobu looks at him now with suspicion in her eyes. Why now would he offer her something she wanted when he cared so little of it before? It doesn’t make much sense, therefore she doesn’t trust him at all. She scrunches her nose up at him, and Douma giggles. "I would never want to have an unhappy bride.”

Shinobu jumps at the opportunity.

"Let me go, out yourself as the sham that you are to your followers, and then walk into the sunlight." 

His eyes were already rolling playfully at her first words. Shaking his head and tutting his tongue, he waggled his long finger at her with a stretched grin. Shinobu knew he would never do that, but pettiness took over, she wanted to be mean and hurt his feelings a bit. Of course it doesn’t, or at least he doesn’t show it. 

“Reasonable request, my dear. So be realistic." He says, and Shinobu sets her lips in a firm line. He would never willingly kill himself, nor admit to his followers that he was a hoax that lured them in for the slaughter, but maybe he would do one thing…

"Let me go."

"Shinobu." He warns, like a parent would a child who was about to be naughty. Shinobu feels a pang of anxiety in her chest, her mind quickly racing to think of something that he might actually listen to or consider before she pushes him too much and he takes away the offer completely. 

"You stop eating humans." She says, voice set and determined. Douma huffs out a breath, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, he seemed annoyed now. 

"I said realistic—" His voice is exasperated, but Shinobu cuts him off before he can reprimand her again.

"It is realistic." She insists, and he rolls his eyes dramatically, a scoff coming out from his pretty lips. Shinobu resists the itch in her hands to slap him and make those lips bleed, though it would feel so satisfying to do so it would not do her any good. He was stronger and seemed to enjoy the pain she inflicted upon him.

"Starving me is realistic to you? Demons aren't invincible to everything, my love. Almost everything, but starvation—" 

"You seem to forget I grew up alongside demons. Two demons who don't take lives to have sustenance." Shinobu cuts him off before he can keep talking. She tries not to think of her family anymore, knowing that her chances of seeing them again are slim to none. It breaks her heart too much to imagine never being able to hug or tease or even see them again.

"How do they survive? Tamayo and Yushiro." He asks, narrowing his eyes a bit. Their names alone make her heart sting in her chest. Shinobu thinks carefully of her answer, Douma’s master was their enemy, and she didn’t want to unintentionally give him any leverage over the people she loved so dearly.

"Donated blood." She says quietly. 

"Donated?" He questions, head tilting like a confused dog. Shinobu nods her head at him, shrugging her shoulders as she thinks of the best way to explain their way of life as peaceful demons to one of a carnivore. 

"Tamayo found a way for humans to willingly give their blood. She says they think it's for medical purposes." It was true, Tamayo was once a doctor, she’d figured out a diet that had her and Yushiro only needing small amounts of human blood to survive instead of flesh, and there was a whole majority of humans that were so willing to help others in need that they would be stuck with a needle and give away their own blood to do so. It may have been a slight lie, but their blood was helping people either way.

"I'm sure your followers would be happy to do so for their Great Founder." She adds on, more of a poke to try and piss him off. It doesn’t, of course, the bastard has no shame at all. Douma stays looking at her with a blankness to his face that she so rarely sees. He’s thinking, wracking his brain to find the best way to answer her.

"What would you do, then? If I did as you asked." He finally says, and Shinobu blanches.

"You said it was a request to make me happy?" She questions, biting her tongue to not hurl an insult at him. Of course he’d turn this around, having her admit one of her desires and then taking it to figure out a way to make it benefit himself as well.

"Yes, but that's an awfully big request, my dear Shinobu. I'd need something in return to help keep up my end of the deal." Douma gestures to her with his hand to come closer. Though she feels resistant she listens, scooting closer where their legs brushed together underneath the bath. Now it was her turn to think, what was something he wanted oh so desperately from her? 

"I'd be your wife, willingly, up until my time comes and I die." 

The words feel foreign coming from her lips. Shinobu was never one to submit herself so easily, to do just that felt strange, but it was the only thing she had to offer him besides her humanity. Despite the thoughts of being a doting and dutiful wife to him making an off putting chill go down her spine, she still offers up her submission on a plate for him to take if he wished.

"You expect me to allow your death?" He asks, raising up one of his thick dark eyebrows. She feels one of his hands reaching around her waist, pulling her even closer to him and forcing her into a position where she practically straddled his lap. She doesn’t fight him, only nods back at his question.

"Yes, I do. You would have me as your dutiful wife for all the years I can give you, isn't that enough?" Uncrossing her arms, Shinobu wraps them around his neck, sinking down a bit further into the bath as not to fully expose her breasts. Douma’s eyes instantly flicker down, try to press himself closer to feel her skin against his own. Shinobu doesn’t let him, pulling back a bit to make him crave something he can’t have. She feels the hardness between his legs twitch on the inside of her thigh when she does that. Good, she wants him needy. It’s manipulative, it’s deceiving, but why she should care? He has manipulated her so much, he deserves some payback.

Gritting his teeth, she feels his fingertips digging into one of her hips underneath the sake. "No. Time moves differently for demons, forty years for you will only feel like four years to me, and there will never be enough time for me to have you."

Shinobu can’t help but feel a twinge of arousal in her lower stomach at his words. Despite how wrong this whole situation was, it felt so good to be wanted so desperately. He yearned for her, even if she pushed him away and screamed her hatred for him, he always wanted her at his side. It was sick, it wasn’t right at all, but nothing in her life ever was. 

"Greed is a sin." She whispers below her breath, and Douma licks his lips.

"I am nothing if not a selfish beast." He whispers back, lifting his head closer to her where their mouths were only a breath apart. Shinobu leans down, letting her lips brush against his own soft ones. Was this his agreeance to their deal? A kiss to set it in stone?

To her surprise, he is the one who pulls back. Not allowing their lips to press together. How many times has that happened now? She’s lost count.A part of her wishes he would grow a pair and kiss her already. Douma hums at her poorly hidden frustration, bringing up his pointer finger to run his sharp claw lightly at her protruding collarbone. Shinobu shivers at the light sting, but lifts her neck anyway, he could so easily cut her throat with those claws.

"If I obliged to your request, you would do as I asked? You would be my wife wholly and willingly?" Douma asks her, raising his eyebrows. She doesn’t doubt that he is suspicious of her deal, she had attempted to murder him many times before. Shinobu knows deep down that she wouldn’t risk doing anything like that again, even if he stopped consuming humans he was still so much stronger than her, and she didn’t want to put anyone else’s lives in danger because of her poor judgement.

Shinobu nods.

"Only if you upkeep your end of our deal. The moment you eat human flesh again is the moment I'll fight you till I die." It’s the truth, she would rather die than stay with him while he slaughtered and consumed innocent women, but she could bear their marriage if he changed his diet.

"How about I offer a bit of an ultimatum?" Douma says, and Shinobu raises her eyebrows a bit at him. “I stop eating humans, you be my wife willingly. You allow me to turn you into a demon—"

"I would never—"

"Let me finish." Placing his finger against her lips, cutting off her words. The suspension was now back, what could he be thinking of to make her even entertain the thought of becoming a demon? Making sure she won’t interrupt again, Douma takes his finger away to keep speaking.

"When you turn twenty, you will allow me to give you my blood and turn you into a demon—“

She interrupts him anyway, not even wanting to hear the words aloud. Shinobu could never do that to her family, both of her families. It would be the worst betrayal she could inflict. "Douma, there's nothing in this world that would make me—"

"—And I'll hunt and kill the demon that killed your family."

The words make her blood run cold, but Douma seems pleased with himself, a relaxed smile on his face as he watches her demeanor fall piece by piece until all of her emotions lay bare before him. “What?" She blurts out, not even meaning to speak. A panic starts to build in her chest, the room feels as though it’s spinning around her, memories of her slaughtered family emerge from the deepest parts of her mind where she had buried them so many years ago. 

"Or if you prefer, I'd bring him to you. So you can kill him however you please."

She hadn't thought of the demon at all. He was a fleeting monster in the nightmare that was her life, the piece that started the downfall. Feeling her arms go limp, Shinobu can’t keep her mind straight. Kanae, her mama, her papa, they were all dead and gone but they still haunted her so. Shinobu feels as though she’s suffocating, Douma is too close, he’s invading all of her senses when she barely even had control of them. She needs to get away, she needs to be alone. Even though she held the cards in this conversation before, all of her power and leverage was gone now. Why had he said such things that evoked such strong distress from her? 

"Shinobu?" Douma says, a tinge a worry in his voice. It snaps her out of her trance.

She pushes him away, clamoring out from the sake bath as quickly as she can manage while soaking wet. Not sparing a second thought of her nakedness as small drops of liquid roll down her glistening skin as she speed walks away and into their chambers. Douma doesn’t stop her, but she thinks she may hear him laugh lightly behind her before she slams the door. She thinks she might be sick. 

How had he even thought of such a thing? And why was the proposition tempting her so? 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Shinobu thinks of his offer for the next few days.

She doesn't talk much, even when Douma is yapping into her ear about their wedding plans in the upcoming months, but she never does anyway. Her mind is too busy now.

His offer was so tempting, but temptation was a dangerous thing, especially coming from Douma, the man was practically temptation personified. She often pushed down the anger that came when she thought of the demon that murdered her family years ago, the need for revenge that was almost her downfall, as a young girl she would imagine being strong enough to kill that beast and rescue her family before they were slaughtered, something she would use to cope with her loneliness and grief—hell, she had no idea what it even looked like, in her mind it was just a faceless monstrous being. They were all just childish fantasies....until now. Douma had practically offered its head on a stick to her if she wished it, the only thing he asked in return was her humanity.

Her soul has already been stained by the lives she took, a big bloody mark that screamed reminding her of her sins every chance it got, but could she allow herself to be ruined completely? Shinobu doesn't know for certain, but she knows she has to agree to at least one part of his deal.

It's a sacrifice, she'll be offering up her own flesh to him to save the lives of others from his teeth and claws, from the endless pit that is his belly.

She didn't have a set plan, but she did have something to use. It was thinly woven yukata, its silvery fabric shimmering like silk. She'd fished it out of the large chest where she kept all of her clothes before she went off to her bath for the night. It was one of the many gifts that Douma had given her, one of his favorites she assumed. He'd presented it to her with an air of pride around him, saying that he had it specially made just for her, but it was far too immodest and suggestive for her liking. She hadn't wanted to put any ideas into his mind.

Now, that's exactly what she wanted to do. 

Supple breasts peaking through, outlining every curve of her small body, Shinobu reaches up pulling the butterfly pin from her hair to let the black and purple tresses fall down in thick waves. She's not sure why she does that, this was purely transactional in her eyes, an action to set a deal in place. Perhaps it was a subconscious need of her own to look and feel desirable. She isn't quite sure. 

When she arrives back from her baths, scrubbed clean and dressed scantily, Douma eyes lock onto her from the moment she steps a bare foot in, lounged back with his body spread wide in a comfortable position, rainbow eyes staring at her both confused and intrigued. She watches the way his eyes flickers down to the bits of exposed pale skin—good. That's exactly what she wants him to focus on.

He's sitting on the blue pillows, cleaned of any blood that had stained it during her fight with Yuzuki and her husband. Heavy smoke fills the air around him. Smoking that damn water pipe again, she hates it, ought to ring his neck for making her pillows smell like tobacco and ash. Pushing down any feelings of annoyance at his smoking habits, Shinobu tip toes her way over to where he sits until she's standing directly in between his long legs.

Staring down into his eyes, Shinobu unties the loose bow that kept her clothing on her. The fabric falls down her body softly, feeling like gentle waves of water caressing her. She watches as he takes a long drawl from his pipe and racks his eyes down her now naked body. There was so many emotions in his face—excitement, desire, impatience, adoration. He shifts his body, reaching out to finally touch her and fulfill his craving. Douma was a man of appetite, and Shinobu was his favorite meal that he hardly got to eat.

Shinobu motions to stop, his hands halt. She didn’t want to fall so easily to his touches, she needed the have control of this.

Kneeling down without a moments more wait, she reaches and grabs at his belt. Nimble fingers working at the buckle until it's loose enough for her to pull free from his pinstriped hakama pants. She watches from her peripheral as he blows out a puff of smoke from the side of his mouth so it wouldn't blow in her face. There's a slight tremble to her fingers, Shinobu tells herself that it's still somehow the side effects of her failed wisteria plan and not nervousness.

"You'll be damning yourself for this." He whispers, wolfish smile showing his predatory teeth, fangs catching on his bottom lip as he bites at it in anticipation. Shinobu thinks she sees a droplet of blood come from it when she looks up at him, but he licks it away before she knows for sure.

Douma doesn't move to stop her, he doesn't discourage the way she looks at him with determination now twisting her pretty features. The bastard even helps her, lifting his hips with a throaty hum so she can pull his cock from his pants. Shinobu's eyes widen as she looks down at his member, hard and throbbing already. He is quite large, proportionately sized to the rest of his body as to be expected, but it doesn't make it any less intimidating to her. 

During their last—and only—little tryst, she hadn't gotten the chance to see him, her mind had been occupied by the haze of aphrodisiacs and distracted by his tongue. 

Swallowing down any feeling of hesitation for what she's about to do, she shifts down until she's on her knees before him and gazes up briefly to see that he's staring at her with lust filled, heavy lidded rainbow eyes that were watching her every little move. Shinobu feels a shiver run down her spine at the way he looks at her so intensely.

She hadn't done this before, but men were easy creatures most of the time, and she knew exactly what he wanted from her at this moment. Adjusting her knees in front of him, Shinobu opens her lips to take his length into her warm and wet mouth. As soon as the tip of him, flushed red and leaking, hits her tongue he groans out. Plump pretty lips falling open as his head lolls back a bit. She goes further, wrapping her lips around his tip and swirling her tongue the best she can with her mouth half full of him. 

She's not the most coordinated, more sloppy than anything as she bobs her head and rubs her hand gently around him but Douma doesn't seem to mind one bit by the moans of his voice and the quivers in his legs. It gives her a bit of confidence, that he seems to enjoy it so much despite her inexperience, spurs her on to do more. Slick noises escape with every movement of her head sucking on him, her jaw feeling an achy discomfort from the size of him but she ignores it and continues to move. 

Feeling him twitch in her mouth, Shinobu gazes up to see a panting Douma still staring down at her. His mouth gaped open in pleasure. It's obscene, it's divine, the way he looks at her—like she's plucked the moon from the sky and brought it to him. It makes her stomach feel warm and queasy. 

Before she can put her mouth back on him, Douma practically yanks her up. Large hands wrapped around her thin upper arms as he maneuvers her into his lap. Pressing his forehead to hers, Douma captures her lips in a bruising kiss, their teeth clacking together somewhat painfully as she whines out into his mouth. Sucking at her bottom lip with a cruelty that only a monster like him could ever bring about. Shinobu loses herself for a bit, breathless as Douma relentlessly sucks and licks at her tongue. Intoxicated from every little thing happening.

They separate for only a moment, so she can help Douma practically rip the sweater he always wore off of his body. Running her small hands down his pale unblemished chest, so much like the fine ivory and porcelain that decorated the rooms, she can see him visibly shudder under her touch. It makes her feel powerful, that her alone could make this formidable man fall to his knees if she wanted to.

"I want to bury myself inside of you until there's nothing left of me." Douma rasps out, a neediness in his rainbow eyes that makes her stomach flip. His large hand palms at her breast as his mouth envelopes hers once again, moaning sinfully as their skin presses together. Shinobu grunts at that, his cold chest giving her a chill, and how she'd rather prefer him to keep his mouth shut if it wasn't being used for any other purpose. He seems to read her mind a bit, breaking their kiss to lean his head down and eagerly wrap his lips around her nipple to soothe the biting cold of his skin and keep his mouth busy. 

A squeak escapes her lips from how harsh he sucks at her breast right away, back arching into him. Douma whimpers against her skin as her small hand fists at the back of his hair, pulling at the silky blonde strands as he bucks his hips up into her. Leaning her head down, Shinobu rests her cheek against him, sighing blissfully as he continues to suck and swirl his tongue around her hardened bud.

"Will I be your first?" He asks, audibly popping off of her breast with a boyish glint in his eyes. Shinobu feels a pang in her chest at the sight, a strange urge of tears that aren't there wanting to fall burning behind her eyes. How silly is that? She runs her free hand along his wide shoulder, and he practically melts into her touch, ducking his head back down to nuzzle at her breast and suckle her once again.

"No." Shinobu says, shaking her head softly even though his eyes are closed and he cannot see her do it, feeling the red stained hairs at the top of his head tickling at her chin. If she was any worse of a person she would've lied to him, would've told him that he was her first and that she had never felt the touch of a man before. There was no reason for her to lie to him now.

The air shifts a bit, and he gazes up at her with a jealous glint in his eyes. Shinobu is reminded that he is still a man, a man who is possessive over what he thinks belongs to him. 

Douma's teeth bite down on her sensitive nipple, hard enough to hurt but not enough to damage, his other hand reaching up to pinch at her neglect breast, rolling the hard pink bud between his thumb and forefinger careful not to knick her with his sharp claws. Shinobu stutters out a moan from the sudden rough touch, feeling the slick wetness from her pussy drip down onto him as his lips kiss at her now sore nipple.  

Feeling the head of his cock bump into her inner thigh, Shinobu feels nerves tickling at her stomach  as Douma grabs the base of his cock and impatiently rubs the wet and flushed tip against her clit. It's been so long since she had anyone or anything besides her own fingers inside of her, that the thought alone makes her anxious. 

Grabbing at his bicep to stop him, to let her keep the control, she slaps away his hand that was fisted around his harness and replace it with her own. Lifting herself up onto her knees, Douma shifts back to watch her with a glee in his eyes as she positions his cock at her entrance. Her cunt was so very wet, but she knew that with their size difference it wouldn’t help much. Taking a deep breath, Shinobu sinks down onto Douma’s length.

Right away he seems to enjoy the feeling of her tightness wrapped around him, an erotic moan falling from his lips. Both of their mouths falling open at the new sensation of one another. Shinobu shifts her hips, stopping suddenly when she has only taken half of him in. The stretch starts to burn, turning more into pain than pleasure, the feeling oh so similar to when she first had sex years ago with the inkeepers son, but she wills herself to keep going. She knew he wouldn’t be fully satisfied if she didn’t push herself all the way.

Suddenly, he hits something deep inside of her, a sharp stab in her stomach like when she gets her monthly blood and a twisted mix of pain and pleasure exploding in her mind. Shinobu cries out, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes as her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders, leaving small red crescents behind. She knows she's breaking skin, the small droplets of blood leaking underneath her fingernails tells her such, but doesn't feel guilt in the slightest. He can heal them as quickly as she put them there. 

Shinobu tries to calm her rapid breathing, willing herself to move further. She'd gone through so much worse in her life, this should be nothing to her. She pushes and pushes herself until finally, she's taken all of his cock inside of her. Pressed down to the hilt and stuffed full.

"You're awfully tight...Are you sure I'm not the first man you've been with, Shinobu?" Douma coos, laughing under his breath cruelly as his hands massage the fat of her hips. She glares at him the best she can, but she knows she must look as intimidating as a kitten that still had its milk teeth to him. Her lips plumped red and cheeks flushed, face glistening wet with her tears. He only smiles at her, placing a chaste kiss against her lips.

Douma gives her a moments more of rest before his impatience gets the better of him. His hands twitch, hips shifting and pushing up, unintentionally making his cock push into her even more. Another strangle cry ripping itself from her throat, another glare thrown his way.

"Give me a moment." Gritting her teeth, she squeezes her eyes shut. It doesn’t allow her to ignore his dramatic sighs of restlessness. “Please.” She finally manages to choke out, trying to keep her voice as dignified as possible. She hears Douma sigh a bit once again, clearly starting to feel frustrated at the lack of attention given to him. She wants to tell him that he should be thankful he's even inside of her at all, but she keeps quiet instead, pressing her lips together in a firm line.

"I don't know how long I'll be able to stay still, my love. You feel too warm and snug around me." Douma purrs, his voice teasing as he leans to lick a long stripe up her neck. "I know you're enjoying it too, your pussy is so wet, it's practically leaking—"

Fine. He won. She'll give him something to shut him up. 

Leaning down, Shinobu locks her lips around his exposed throat, sucking gently at the pale skin and cutting off his words with a gasp. She hears him take in a shaky breath, brushing his hand against the back of her head before twirling his fingers around her tresses of thick hair. Shinobu sucks a bruise into the soft spot below his jawline, leaning back only an inch to watch with hazy purple eyes as the red mark heals in seconds and disappears completely. Grinding her hips into his, Shinobu grunts, making the skin of his throat practically vibrate as her clit rubs against the coarse silvery blonde hairs at the base of his cock. The stimulation is enough to distract her from the burning sensation down below. 

With a gentleness that catches her by surprise, Douma caresses her jaw before holding the nape of her neck below her hair, bringing her away from kissing and licking his neck. Rainbow eyes look at her expectantly, while he clearly was enjoying her mouth on him, he was now wordlessly telling her to move before he moves her himself.

Taking a deep breath, Shinobu lifts herself up from her seated position, placing her palms on his shoulders for support. Both of them gasping in unison as her hips rise before sinks back down quickly, still getting used to the stretch. Douma is still twitchy, trying not to take over and let her go at her own pace to adjust to his length. She feels so very full, her walls practically being split open due to the very little prep she had. A part of her wants the pain to stay, a reminder to herself that she’s doing this for more than pleasure. 

Large hands grabbing at her, Douma pulls her hips down a bit harder making her groan. Taking the hint, Shinobu starts to move faster, the wetness from her arousal making the glide so much smoother. It’s awkward at first, the wet noises make her blush, her hip cramps a bit, and Douma’s constant movements don’t help her find a good rhythm, but they find it together eventually. Shinobu bouncing on his lap with an animalistic want. Douma bucks his hips up into her in tandem, his hands grabbing at her ass and breasts and any part of her he can reach with their frantic movements. Shinobu thinks she feels his claws draw blood, but the intense desire makes her unsure.

There would be another time for softness, for making love...but now wasn’t that time. Now was the time they could release their frustrations, the time they could finally show their hunger for one another. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, gasps and moans and sinful noises that made her blush. A sheen of sweat coated her body, pale skin glistening under the candlelight as she rides him. Shinobu was so close now, the tightness in her lower stomach only growing stronger with each shove of his length into her. Douma seems to notice by the way his smile grows into a self satisfied grin, dragging his hand that rested on her hip torturously slow until it was placed in between their bodies and her spread legs. The pad of his thumb presses down gently onto her swollen clit, rubbing her leaking wetness into the tiny bundle of nerves. Shinobu hips falter, but it doesn’t stop Douma from continuing to thrust up into her. 

"You're mine." Douma whispers, their lips brushing together as his thumb flicks a bit harder at her clit. Finally, she reaches her peak, her walls squeezing down on his length as her abdomen tenses and spasms with waves of pleasure. Every thought she has dissolves until she thinks of nothing but him. 

"I'm yours." She breaths back, hearing him moan out her name and finally feeling the warmth from his cum fill up inside of her as his cock twitches rapidly. Douma holds her close to him, both of them riding out the final moments of their pleasure as he stays buried in her. He presses his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, massaging their tongues together before he lifts her up and off of his now soft cock. They both whimper quietly at the sensitivity of their bodies. 

He said it himself, she's damned herself for this.

She should feel guilt for letting herself go this far, allowing herself to willingly fall apart in the arms of a demon, she should feel ashamed of her actions...but she doesn't. Her body is buzzing with pure pleasure, his cum still leaking from her cunt, heart thumping wildly in her chest at the sight of him in the same state as her. Does she love him? Shinobu isn't sure. She loves the way he makes her feel, that's much for certain.

As Douma gives her smile, so bright and beautiful, Shinobu reconsiders everything bad she's ever thought about him. Cupping his cheek with her small hand, she kisses him with a softness she had never given him before. It's all so confusing, but it feels so right. Both of their souls feel as though they should be intwined together for eternity. Is this what love was? 

Her thoughts are interrupted as Douma moves to flip her over gently, making sure to not bump her head as he lays her on her back and shimmies down the pillows, flashing her a wink before he buries his head between her spread legs, his lips sucking at her already sensitive clit. Shinobu feels her mind go numb with bliss as his tongue devours her, running thin fingers through his hair gently to encourage him to keep going. She doesn't focus on the claws that are on the hands gripping at her thighs, or the forever bleeding mark that stained the top of his fine light hair, she even ignores the kanji that looks back at her every time they lock eyes. 

Douma can love her, Shinobu can even love him back...but it doesn't change what he is.

She thinks she'll be able to ignore it.

Chapter Text

Kanae Kocho was not supposed to live.

She thought she was dead, those three days she laid in a pool of blood unconscious in her home. The last thing she could remember was the pain from the demons claws and teeth making her vision go black. She knew her father was already dead, her mother was taking her final breaths, and Kanae knew that she was soon to follow. She was wrong, however.

A miracle, they said, when she was found with a shallow breath amongst the carnage around her. She'd been rushed to the hospital, the same hospital where her parents had worked, her clothes and skin bloodied to the point where she was almost unrecognizable. 

She was not supposed to live, it didn't make sense why she did.

Doctors and nurses alike wept and gasped as she was brought in, doing their best to stitch up the slices from the beasts claws and bites marring her body, her skin was so pale from the blood she had lost that she looked as if she were made of candles wax. Everyone had been fretting about her room at the hospital, checking her vitals and injuries in awe of her survival. All saying the same exact things over and over. It was a miracle that she lived through the brutal attack that took the lives of her parents. 

Kanae didn't know if she saw it as a miracle, she didn't know if she saw it as fate. It was a bittersweet thing, her survival, she was indeed happy that she lived but she lost everything in the process. Her home was destroyed, her parents were dead...and the only person she had left was missing.

Her beloved little sister, Shinobu.

It was the first thing she asked when she awoke. Where was her sister? Everyone had looked at her with worried, guilty eyes, making Kanae's heart drop, did she not hide her sister well enough? Had she too perished from the demon? Thankfully, she did. The nurses tell her that she had run off from the Slayers after being found. Her sister was always fast, inhumanly so, but she was still just a young child, how had they not stopped her?

Kanae had wept for what felt like days, being only thirteen and feeling the weight of the world crash down on her shoulders. She missed her parents, she missed her sister, and all she could see at night was the demon ripping her apart. 

After her injuries healed, long months of grueling blood transfusions and aching stitches she realized she had nowhere to go. Her home was gone, her family was dead. She'd been offered to be taken in by one of her father's close friends at the hospital as a ward for compounding medicines, but Kanae had denied it. Perhaps it was revenge fueling her actions, or even just the need to help others, but she knew exactly who she needed to go to.

The slayers were more than happy to take her in, her bravery and resilience were admired even amongst the Hashira. The girl who'd been attacked by a demon and survived despite the odds against her. Her strength had grown a tenfold since she healed and started training...but even after she passed final selection, after the weeks upon weeks of training with her flower breathing, even after she became a Hashira at only sixteen...Her mind always wanders back to her sister.

Maybe that's why the other slayers joked about her bringing in so many 'strays'.

The butterfly mansion was filled with the girls that didn't wish to slay demons but still wanted to be apart of the corps. They had all been a good help with not feeling so lonely. Aoi was the first, the girl's violate personality had reminded her so much of Shinobu that it was nearly impossible for Kanae not to take her in. Kanao came soon after, the young girl resembled her so much it was if she  had looked into a mirror, Kanae had rescued the flea ridden girl, taking her in and training her as a tsuguko. Then came Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi. All five of the girls were her little butterflies that she cherished. She hopes when Shinobu is found that they'll all get along.

With each passing year, Kanae would use her free time to search for any sign of Shinobu. It was all futile so far, only leading to girls with similar purple eyes or a butterfly hair clip, but they weren't her. Kanae had no proof that Shinobu was even alive, all she had was to trust the word of the slayers who tried to rescue her, but deep down she knew that she was, a sisterly bond that tied their souls together told her so. Shinobu was far too stubborn to have died.

Kanae just needs to find her.

"You're in your head again." The rough voice laying beside her grunts. Kanae gazes up, the moonlight illuminating the white haired man next to her. 

Sanemi. Her husband.

She had never expected that joining the Slayers would lead her to finding love, but it had. Sanemi had captivated her from the moment she met him, such a strong man that she had the honor of calling her husband. Mitsuri had squealed in excitement when Kanae had told her of her feelings for the man, but she hadn't wanted to pursue anything due to her mission of finding her sister. To her surprise, Sanemi had admitted his feelings before she could, insisting that he would help find Shinobu if she would give him her love.

They had married just after their nineteenth birthdays, two years ago. It was a quiet ceremony, with just Kanao and Sanemi's own little brother in attendance. Both of them knew that their lives could be cut short at any moment, so they wanted to make the most out of the time they had together.

Guilt bubbles up within her, they so rarely got to spend nights together lately with the increase in demon attacks, and now she was ruining it with her overthinking. 

"I'm sorry." She says, scooting to lay her head on his scarred chest, running her fingers lightly against a smaller hidden one just below his collarbone. Sanemi wears his scars with such pride, unhidden to the world like her own. Kanae wishes she could look at her marred skin without feeling ill at ease, but they only bring back the bad memories she wishes to forget. 

"Don't apologize." Despite his attempt at sounding reassuring, his voice still comes out gruff. For a man that is hard to everyone else, he tries to be tender with her, in his own way. He shifts his body up, wrapping a large arm around her frame to tuck her in closer. Kanae wants to tell him that she is fine, that they should go to sleep and get all the rest they can before they're sent off again. Sanemi doesn't let her.

"Don't be in your head, talk to me." 

Kanae chews on her bottom lip, she wants to talk, but she has no idea what to say. She tells herself that her silence is to keep the risk of waking Kanao or Aoi in the next room, but she knows deep down that any thoughts of her sister just make her spiral down into madness. Shinobu was essentially gone from the world, not a trace of her anywhere that Kanae had looked. Everyone had told her to give up, that if Shinobu was alive then she would've been found by now...but Kanae knows, deep down she knows that her sister is alive, and she can't give up.

"She would be eighteen now, wouldn't she?" Sanemi asks, using his free hand to scratch at his head. He'd gotten so much better with speaking with not as much hostility in his words since they married, Kanae is so proud of him for his progress, but even it doesn't help when she's like this. His fingers run through her long dark hair, gently combing through the silky strands.

Though he is still the fiery tempered man that used his fists more than his words, he remains gentle for her.

"Yes, her birthday was in February." Kanae replies lightly, her thoughts wandering to when their mother would make their favorite meals for their birthdays. Kanae tried to make them herself, but they never tasted quite right. Furrowing her eyebrows, she can't help the frustration building up. It's been almost nine years now, and she hasn't found a single thing. Pushing herself up where she is now sitting, she buries her hands in the roots of her hair.

"How could she simply disappear?" She asks, but she doesn't expect him to answer her at all. This is the only time she allows herself to fall apart so easily, to let her guard down and show her true discouragement. She always kept a smile on for her butterfly girls, always tried to stay happy to keep them happy. "I just don't understand, Sanemi." She grunts out, digging her fingers into her scalp harder in an attempt of getting rid of the headache that was starting to bloom. Her irritated thoughts and lack of sleep only making it worse by the second. Sanemi's heavy hand rubs at her back, a little too harsh to be sooting, but Kanae appreciates the effort nonetheless. 

"How will she know that I'm looking for her if she doesn't want to be found in the first place?" Kanae doesn't see it, but Sanemi's lips are pressed into a firm line. 

He isn't sure exactly what to say in moments like this one, every time he tried to sound reassuring in the past it only sounded foreign and unconvincing, though it pains him to see Kanae in such distress. Truth be told, he would love to sleeping right now, he had just gotten back from a harsh mission where he had to travel home covered in mud and soot, his body and mind both ached horribly, and this was the first night he and Kanae had both been together in weeks, but he would never dare say any of that to her. Especially at times like these.

"She doesn't even know I'm alive." A whisper under her breath, she doesn't know if she meant to say it aloud or not. Her poor little sister, out there in the world thinking that she was alone. A thought suddenly pops into Kanae's head, and she straightens her back quickly. Hands falling from where they were buried in her long tresses. 

What if Shinobu wasn't actually alone?

"What if she's married? Or a mother?" She says quickly, whipping her head to look at the man still laying next to her, his hand stops moving on her back, but remains resting there anyway. "I could be an aunt and not even know it." Sanemi looks up at her frenzied eyes with his own widened ones.

She doesn't know why, but it never occurred to her that Shinobu easily could've moved on by now. She could've been adopted, or found a husband and joined his family. It doesn't sound like something the Shinobu that she knows would do, but guilt and grief change people. She could imagine Shinobu with a daughter, a little girl with those same big purple eyes—or maybe she'd take after her father more? It's hard to imagine a man that Shinobu would deem worthy to be by her side. 

The thoughts are too much to handle for her, so she pushes up to stand and pace the room, biting at her already shortened fingernails. "What do you think?" She asks him, but doesn't allow him to answer before she continues on. "What if she doesn't even want me to find her because it'll just bring up her past?"

Her husband is looking at her like she's grown a second head at the energy she suddenly displays, her feet hurriedly pacing back and forth in front of their shared futon. 

Damn, Sanemi really wants to be sleeping right now.

Before she could pace a hole into the floor, Sanemi grabs at her free hand that wasn't having its fingernails chewed on. Kanae stops abruptly, and he can see once again the guilt building up in those gorgeous light purple eyes of hers. She opens her lips to apologize, like she always does, but he doesn't allow it. Guiding her down gently with a tug of her hand, Kanae sits across his lap and snuggles into his large chest.

"Well, if she is...then you'll have a lot to talk about once you find her." Sanemi says, scratching at his head with his free hand. Kanae looks up at him, leaning up to press her lips gently against his. Gods, this woman of his, how soft she's made him. It'll be the death of him one day.

"It takes time, Kanae." He whispers after their kiss is broken, resting his chin on the top of her head. Kanae sighs blissfully as she relaxes her shoulders and allows the man to hold her close. Her thoughts of Shinobu will still persist, but she won't worry as much tonight. 

Tonight, she'll sleep alongside her husband, and hope her dreams will come peacefully, not filled with missing sisters and demon’s claws.

· · ─────── · ❀· ─────── · ·

"You're sure it was her?"

Kanae can't help the pure excitement shaking her voice as her hands harshly grip the shoulders of her fellow Hashira, Tomioka staring at her with discomfort in his usual dead blue eyes. 

"Yes, I'm sure. Short stature, purple bugged eyes, and dark hair held up with a butterfly clip." He says flatly, like always, as he pries himself away from Kanae's iron-like hold. "She has a beauty mark on her left temple." Her smile only grows at his description, so wide to the point where her cheeks ache. The girl he's describing sounds exactly like her sister! Even down to the beauty mark!

Kanae will slap herself later for realizing she could've gotten this information quicker had she actually told her fellow Slayers anything about her sister besides the fact she was missing. Shockingly, she had never told any of them her name, nor what she looked like. Giyu had only recently come to the butterfly mansion to tell her after Sumi had let her name slip in a conversation while bandaging a wound he received from his last mission.

"Where did you meet her? How did she look—was she healthy? Did she seem like she was eating ok?" So many questions spill from Kanae's mouth, she can't help herself, all of the other leads she had gotten were false hopes and grasping straws. This, what Giyu was telling her, was the most she'd ever gotten, even if it had been  almost two years since he met her.

"We met in Tokyo, only for a night, we shared—uh..." A hot red blush suddenly blooms on the man's face, and Kanae realizes his implications. She didn't care about all of that, in fact she was happy about hearing it! It meant Shinobu was healthy—and alive! Alive! Kanae wanted to scream it from the rooftops for all to hear. Clearing his throat awkwardly as Giyu looks away from her wide purple eyes staring at him for anything more he can give her. 

"She didn't say much, was only in Tokyo for travels to pick up medical supplies with an adoptive brother. Their adoptive mother worked at a clinic in Asakusa."

Thanking the water pillar excitedly, Kanae reaches out and kisses the man on the cheeks in appreciation. Turning quickly on her heel to run as fast as she can to her rooms to start packing her travel bag. 

She'll have to leave Sanemi a note that she'll be gone for a few days, not for a mission but to follow a lead for Shinobu. Even if Shinobu isn't there anymore, there's sure to be at least something she left behind. Something that'll point Kanae in the right direction on where she is now...but for the time being, she'll go to Asakusa.

Asakusa...she'll start there.

Chapter Text

Tokyo always felt like it was moving, and Asakusa was no different.

Kanae loved the cities, she often likes to think that perhaps when she retires as a Slayer she and Sanemi would move to one, maybe even raise children there. You could never be bored in the cities, there was so much to do, so many different places you could choose to eat from, so many people coming in and out that you would never be bored.

Another good thing was that the locals recognized familiar faces if they had been there long enough.

"Huh, that's strange. I just talked to some other people looking for that girl too." The man says, placing down the large wooden spoon he held to scratch at his beard. A large bowl of sweet rice dough half kneaded in front of him. She'd gone to one of the shops, a family run place, possibly inherited. She could tell by the worn tables and chairs, she had half a mind to purchase something to eat, especially since no other place she had gone to so far had any information to give her.

This was good, this was the lead that she needed. She was beginning to feel defeated after so many hours with nothing to show from it.

Kanae tilts her head curiously, the man interrupts her before she can ask about them. "She's a sweet girl, the one you're looking for. Used to come by every week to buy my wife's Taiyaki...haven't seen her in a while though. Almost a year now." 

"Why hasn't she come by?" Kanae asks him, worry tinging her voice.

The man shakes his head once again, rolling his fallen sleeves up so he can get back to kneading the dough in front of him.

"Not sure, my wife thinks she found herself a man and got married...but I'd never seen that girl with anyone. Hope' she's alright." Kanae nods at the man's words, lips set in a firm line. Even though she was too late, it's still something that Shinobu was here so recently. She'll be able to possibly find a trail to where she is now.

"Would you point the people out, please?" She asks the man politely, trying not to seem too eager about the situation.

The man points outside through the crowd where two figures are walking with their backs turned to them. There's a woman, her hair pinned up in a bun, and a small man with mint green hair next to her.

Kanae thanks the man, bowing a bit before she races off to not lose sight of the two of them. They seem to walk with a bit of haste, so Kanae hurries to follow. Though there's a stench coming from the both of them, she can smell it by the trail they leave behind. They smelled like demons, and the closer she got she realized that they looked like demons too—her father always said that if it looked like a crow, if it squawked like a crow, then it was probably a crow.

She follows them for what feels like close to an hour, keeping far enough behind where she's unnoticed. She doesn't attempt to move closer until the crowds die down and there is no one around, gripping the hilt of her katana hidden underneath her Haori. She doesn't know what they're capable of, despite their small statues, they very well could overwhelm her if their blood demon art was powerful enough. They had the gall to walk out in the crowds of humans, they had enough control to not devour them. The question was, why were two demons looking for Shinobu?

Rushing forward before they can disappear behind a corner, Kanae whips out her blade. She aims for the woman, as the man seems to be her protector by the way his eyes glared at anyone who had passed by. The man shouts as Kanae plants her feet on the hard bricks of the road, her body ready to attack if needed. Her blade rested uncomfortably close to the woman's jugular, all she would have to do was slice and she would be beheaded.

It wasn't her usual method of attack, despite what has happened to her and her job, a part of her always hopes that demons can be saved. They were all human once, and humans were inherently good at heart. The other slayers think she's foolish for it, but a part of her hopes that one day humans and demons can coexist at peace.

But now, it wasn't about that. Right now it was about finding her little sister by any means necessary, and for unknown reasons two demons were also looking for her.

"Why are you looking for Shinobu?" She asks, keeping her voice firm. Sanemi would do a better job interrogating them than her, even though she loves him she cannot deny that he is terrifying and can intimidate people far more than she could.

The mint haired man does not seem to appreciate her sword placed against the woman's neck, his body tenses even further than it already was, and even though his head practically lights on fire in anger, he doesn't move. Doesn't risk putting the woman's life in anymore danger than it already was. The woman tries to turn, but Kanae keeps her guard up, pressing her sword just a bit harder into her pale skin. She can see from the corner of her eye the little man practically steaming. When she locks eyes with the woman, Kanae has to hold back her gasp at how similar she looks to Shinobu. This lady looks more like her sister than she does.

"She's my daughter—" The woman starts, her voice much more elegant and mature than Kanae was expecting. Something flares up inside of her, perhaps its envy, or even anger, but she ignores it.

"Shinobu isn't your daughter, her mother was slain years ago." Kanae resists the urge to raise her lip at the demon woman. Tomioka had mentioned that Shinobu had an adoptive family, she shouldn't be jealous of the people that had taken care of her sister. That wasn't what was bothering her, however. It was the claws on the delicate hands of the woman, it was the cat-like pupils of the man, it was the scent of corrupted souls. It doesn't make sense.

"My name is Tamayo, this is Yushiro—"

"Why are demons looking for my dear sister?" Kanae interrupts her. She doesn't want to know who they are, all she wants is to know where Shinobu is, and possibly why they're looking for her too. Twin gasps suddenly come from both of them, and Kanae watches as the two hurriedly look at each other in surprise.

"You're...Kanae?" The man—Yushiro, asks suddenly. His voice full of shock as he steps closer to them. Kanae furrows her eyebrows as she realizes that these two know her. Confusion suddenly overcomes her head.

"Kanae Kocho, Shinobu's older sister..." Tamayo says, her large purple eyes wide. Silence overcomes them as they realize that the girl they were told was dead for nearly a decade is in fact alive, very much so alive. "Oh my..." Tamayo sighs, brining up a small hand to rub at her temple.

"I think it would be better if we could speak somewhere private." Tamayo says, gesturing behind her where a dark house stood surrounded by a fence. Strange, Kanae hadn't noticed it before, it was almost like it was invisible.

Kanae doesn't move from her position, though her thoughts of demons differ from that of her fellow slayers, she cannot trust that they still won't attack her. Just because they knew Shinobu doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. The little—Yushiro, scoffs at the doubt clearly shown through Kanae's light purple eyes.

"We are not under Kibutsuji's control, and we do not eat human flesh." He says, spitting the words out. Oddly enough, he reminds Kanae of Shinobu's crass personality that she had when she was a child. She wonders if she is still like that. 

Kanae can't help the curiosity the piques inside of her at his words. He had proven that they don't follow Muzan but uttering that cursed name, but demons that don't eat human flesh? This was exactly what she had hoped for, peaceful demons...but now that she is seeing it first hand, it is hard for her to believe. Despite her better instincts, Kanae lowers her sword, but doesn't place it back into her sheath. Yushiro rolls his eyes at her, and hurriedly goes to check on Tamayo. Fretting over her like a mother hen with its chick.

"How is she even alive?" She hears Yushiro whisper to Tamayo, looking back at her with a glare. Tamayo dismisses him, shooing him to be quiet with a raised hand. Yushiro obeys, almost like a loyal dog, and steps aside to let Kanae follow them into their home, though his glare is still ever present.

Their home is...cozy. The sight unnerves her more than she thought it would, she assumed that demons lived in squalor and horror, at least from what she had seen. To see that these two reside in a home, with a dining table and medical supplies and books. The thing that catches Kanae's attention the most is a fat calico cat, curled up sleeping next to a fish tank with an equally fat goldfish swimming about inside. Her fingers twitch when she realizes that there are small traces of a human living here—a use futon folded up in the corner, cooking utensils that had been worn down with years of use—Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she kneels down to mirror Tamayo who sat in front of her.

"Tell me everything about her, please." Kanae says, though her guard is still up she is desperate for anything she can get about Shinobu. Tamayo smiles at her warmly, but there's an air of sadness around her.

"We found her almost six years ago, she was on the verge of death in an alleyway. We brought her here to heal her wounds, and I realized that she showed exceptional skill in medical practice by the way she dressed her own wounds at such a young age." Tamayo explains to her, taking a sip from a small tea cup that Yushiro had handed her when she was speaking.

So many emotions run through Kanae all at once, despair for all of the pain her sister had to go through at such a young age all alone, pride that her sister was capable and intelligent, inferiority for not being able to protect Shinobu herself. Kanae has to push those feelings down.

"At first, she stayed because it was common interest. She wanted revenge for her family, and she agreed with our goals...but overtime, she felt more and more like family." Tamayo says with bittersweet tone as she recalls the fond memories of their past. Reaching behind her, she plucks a book from the fine wooden shelf that was pushed against the wall, taking out something carefully to hand to Kanae.

There's a photo, the three people in it posed stoically together. Yushiro stands behind two women, both sitting together posed like a mother and daughter would. Tamayo has a gentle smile on her face, her hand delicately placed on the shoulder of the girl next to her. Kanae studies the girl, looking at her face intently. Though she was noticeably older, her cheeks no longer completely round with youth, it was still her...the large eyes, her raven black hair, the it was still undoubtedly the face of her little sister.

Shinobu.

"She...she is determined, fierce in her anger but kind to those who are deserving. Smart as well, I've never seen a girl her age with such intelligence." Tears leak from Kanae's eyes as she gently clutches the photo, staring down at her sister. Hearing the stories of Shinobu from the last few years was one thing, but actually seeing her sister, grown so much from her last memory of her, was another thing completely.

"She is a good person, and she missed you everyday." Tamayo says, and Kanae looks up at her. Wiping a stray tear that had fallen. She sniffles a bit, emotions overtaking her, before she hands the photo back to Tamayo. As much as she would like to keep it for herself, it wasn't her memory to keep.

"She's...human?" Kanae asks, though hesitantly, her fingers twitching against her lap. She doesn't want to offended them in any way, but she feels like she won't be able to breathe if she doesn't know. Though Shinobu looked to be human in the photo, Kanae knows that some demons are capable of masking their true nature.

"Yes, nineteen in the next coming weeks." Tamayo nods, looking fondly at the photo herself before she delicately places it back in its resting area. Kanae takes a deep breath, so many thoughts running through her head all at once.

"Where is she now?" Kanae can't help herself from asking, this is the closest she's ever gotten to Shinobu and the excitement and happiness is giving her a high like no other. She can feel herself deflate a bit at the way Tamayo looks at her now, guilt and shame twisting those beautiful features into something unsightly.

"I believe I've found an effective solution to cure demonism as a whole, but one of the ingredients is extremely rare. Shinobu had insisted on searching for it herself due to a theory I've had that it can only be found in sunlight." Tamayo's voice is strained as she explains the situation at hand to Kanae. The young Slayer can hardly believe her ears...cure demonism as a whole? She hadn't thought it possible, though she had hoped one day they could live aside humans peacefully.

"We haven't heard from her in months..." Yushiro is now the one who speaks, and Kanae thinks she may hear the slightest bit of worry in his tone. 

"It was foolish of me to allow her to do this on her own. She is more than capable, but there are others who search for the flower. Others who are dangerous." All three of them tense their shoulders when Tamayo speaks, realizing who she is speaking of. Muzan and his twelve kizuki, all who are also in search of the flower. Kanae can only hope that Shinobu hadn't encountered any of them.

"It's not your fault." Kanae says, finally breaking the silence of the room. It wasn't their fault, she knew how stubborn Shinobu was, even if she was told no she would've gone anyway, especially if it was for something she believed in. Standing from her kneeling position, Kanae bows deeply at Tamayo. "I cannot thank you enough for taking care of her for so many years. You've taken care of my sister when I wasn't there to do so...I'll forever be in your debt because of it."

Tamayo smiles softly at her, and Kanae can't help but smile back.

"Whatever you need for the time being in your research, I will assist you." She says, reaching down to hold Tamayo's hands in her own. She has to remember that they are also Shinobu's family, they'd been with her just as long as she had. They cared about her and loved her just as much.

"I promise you. I'm going to find her."

She can only hope that until she can, that her dearest little sister is alright...

· · ─────── · ❀· ─────── · ·

Throwing her head back with a choked moan, Shinobu can't help thinking that this is the best she's felt in so long, her back arching desperately in pure bliss as Douma laps at her pussy.

He'd been at it for what she thinks is the last hour, taking his time to make her cum again and again with his mouth until her body was buzzing with pleasure. Shinobu wasn't complaining about that, but he seemed to have nothing but free time now that he's stop his ceremonies, and almost all of that time went to her. Sometimes she missed the solidarity that came with his previous eating habits. She always had some time for herself to do as she pleased, now that time was also spent with Douma. When she tried to read, he wanted her to read to him too. When she tried to bathe, he would join, and often or not she always ended up more dirty than clean.

It was utterly frustrating at times, but Shinobu knew it was necessary. Douma, ever the glutton, often used sex as a way to distract him from his hunger for flesh. She could usually tell his mood by the way he preformed, the times when he was particularly hungry he was rough and needy, leaving scratches and bites and bruises behind for him to kiss later. Other times, like now, he would take his time with her body like he was an artist and she was his muse. While the blood given to him happily by his followers sufficed, he was a greedy man that had spent over a century indulging himself. Shinobu told herself that offering up her own flesh was a worthy sacrifice to save as many lives as she could, but right now she felt sticky and her body needed to rest, unlike him she did not have the inhuman stamina to keep up with his sexual appetite.

"That's enough." She grunts, pushing at his head between her legs. Douma whimpers out at her denial, nuzzling his face like an animal against the soft skin of her inner thighs before giving it a playful nip with his teeth as Shinobu hisses. The bastard loved to edge the line of pain and pleasure, he'd scratch her with his claws and lick them like he would a wound, he'd bite at her flesh until it stung then soothe it was an icy kiss. Shinobu can't say that she didn't like it, but she refused to tell Douma that she did too.

"Mm, I can't help it. You're so tasty, my love." He purrs out, desire dripping from every word that escapes those pretty lips. It makes her stomach feel warm, it makes wetness leak from her entrance adding to the mess down below between her legs. She thinks Douma notices by the way his fingers clench her hips and thighs even harder. There will be bruises blooming there come tomorrow, but Shinobu doesn't mind them anymore.

Despite her command for him to stop, Douma buries his face back into her pussy. Parting her lower lips with the tip of his tongue so he can push it past her folds, forcing it inside of her entrance as his hands sneak up to grope at her supple breasts. Shinobu rasps out a moan from her sore throat, overstimulation making her fingers and toes tingle almost painfully. She wants him to stop, she wants him to keep going, the battle of feelings within her swirling until her mind feels like it's going to become mush.

His attempts to latch and suck onto her clit are halted by her hand on his forehead, Shinobu stays persistent. Pushing at his head once more until he is wretched away, panting like a dog in heat.

"You must give me more, please allow me to have more!" Douma keens out, almost desperately as he lays kisses along her thighs, his fingers practically shaking while digging into her pale skin. It's pathetic, it's downright erotic. A man of his power, begging her to allow him to please her. 

"Oh, Shinobu." He whines, eyes rolling back a bit in pleasure when she runs her delicate fingers through his soft locks of hair, nails scratching against his scalp lightly. They lock eyes for a moment, and she rests her hand on his cheek. His skin is so cool to the touch, even in moments of passion like these, though Shinobu thinks she can feel ever so slightly the warmth from a blush from her tender touch.

The way he looks at her, it tugs at her heartstrings. His eyes are half lidded, covering the kanji that was scribed into his rainbow gaze. The colors seem dull in this light, not as glowing and bright as they usually are. He seems so much more real like this, not a god or a demon or even a man blessed with divinity...it makes her realize that deep down he is still just a man. A man who loves her in his own way, like a loyal dog that would chase after its owner no matter how far they ran away.

"One more, and then rest." She comprises, taking her hand away to lay back against the plush pillows and rest her aching neck, spreading her legs a bit wider as she does. Douma seems happy enough with the medium ground they settled upon. A smile on his face as he dips his head back down in between her thighs.

If she was honest with herself, despite how good his tongue felt against her, she wanted more—she craved more. He didn't use his fingers often at risk of hurting her with his claws, so Shinobu had felt positively empty, she wanted to feel his length inside of her, wanted to be filled up completely. She'd seen him palming at his hardness multiple times as well, and even though she knows he takes a sick kind of pleasure in his own pain it wouldn't be fair, for her to cum so many times in one night and then leave him high and dry.

"Douma?"

He whines and pouts like a spoiled child, which perhaps isn't too different to how he actually is, when she scoots herself away from his greedy mouth and pushes at his shoulders until he sat kneeled on his haunches, and even though her body was already spent, muscles tired and sore, she uses the last bit of her energy to flip herself around, pushing herself up where she was on her hands and knees. She can hear him inhale sharply at the sight of her before him.

Wiggling her round ass at him in invitation, Shinobu looks back at him with hazy violet eyes. Douma doesn't waste a second more, though his red sweater was long discarded he still wore his hakama pants. Shinobu is surprised that his belt is still in tact with the force and haste he used to practically rip it off, pulling down his pinstriped pants to free his cock from its fabric confines.

She feels the tip of him bump into her pussy, soaking wet and sensitive, and hisses in an odd mix of pain and pleasure. She hears a breathy laugh come from behind her, and Douma grabs at his cock to drag it through her dripping folds, her attempt to flinch away from the overstimulation is halted by a firm hand placed on her hip and a deeper laugh coming from him.

"Douma. Stop that." Shinobu growls, a warning to him that he's on thin ice. She convinces herself that she was already putting aside her own comfort to make sure that he is also pleased for the night, even if she also equally wanted this as much as he did. If she was any crueler, she would've left him to take care of his hardened cock by himself.

She hears him snicker behind her, and resists the urge to kick at him, the only reason why she doesn't is because he listens to her. Lining himself up with her entrance, Shinobu can't help the way her fingers flex into the tousled blankets beneath her as she feels him start to push the tip of his cock inside of her warmth, even though she had taken him inside of her so many times now, there was still a pleasantly painful stretch that came every time they fucked. Pushing himself inside of her to the hilt, Shinobu sucks in a sharp breath. Douma gives her a moment to adjust, like he always does, while letting out lewd moans that Shinobu was convinced had to have been dramatized. She bites at her lip as he pulls out only to sheathe himself back in her warm heat just as quickly.

Shimmying her ass back into his hips, a silent order for him to keep moving, Douma obliges happily.

Indecent noises of skin slapping against skin fill the room as Douma sets a brutal pace, Shinobu can't help the mewls of pleasure she lets out adding to it. Her thighs quivering which each thrust of their bodies together. One his large hands still gripping her hips harshly as the other reaches down around her to squeeze her bouncing breast, pinching and rolling her dusty pink nipple between his fingers as she arches her back almost painfully. 

It's all so much, he consumes her completely. Fucking into her with a speed that was making her practically fall apart. She knows he's enjoying it too, by the rasped groans and whines he doesn't hide.

A gasp escapes her lips as Douma leans down and drapes his body over hers, his chest pressed to her back. It's an awkward fit, with their size difference, he's hunched over in a way that's surely not comfortable, hovering slightly so he doesn't accidentally crush her with his weight. He doesn't seem to care all that much, continuing to pound into her and whisper words of his love in her ear.

Feeling the fire pooling low in her abdomen only grow stronger, Shinobu knows she won't last much longer if he keeps this up. Though they've tried many, many different positions since they started this little game of theirs, this one always managed to make her come undone far quicker than the rest. The angle let his cock rub against something inside of her that made her vision practically go white with pleasure. Not to mention her body had already been through so much tonight, she's surprised that she's able to even withstand this at all without passing out.

Shinobu was right, as she came only moments later. Heavy breaths puffing from her mouth as her legs tremble.

It's weaker than the ones he wrought out of her earlier with his tongue, softer, but it doesn't stop the rippling waves of pleasure from consuming her completely. She can feel her pussy clenching around him tightly as she cums. Her joints buckle, muscles shivering in overstimulation, but a strong arm around her waist keeps her up before she can collapse into the sheets.

 "Just a few more moments." Douma whispers, his voice strained from his thrusts, licking at the lobe of her ear before biting it gently, taking extra care not to catch the delicate skin with his fangs.

With a drawn out moan of her name, she feels his cock twitching as he desperately tries to push himself as deep inside of her as possible, gripping her hips and thighs and any part of her that he can. She can feel the warmth in her belly, the fullness that she craves so much, as Douma sloppily kisses her ear.

"I love you." He stutters out through a breathy moan.

They stay like that for a while, bodies tense and still connected while he rides out the last pulsing waves of his own pleasure.

His touch is delicate and careful as he pulls out, maneuvering her around where she lay on her back, his cum still leaking out of her. Though she doesn't voice it, she is grateful. She was far too tired to do so herself, and would've laid in that same position until she dosed off to sleep.

She looks up at him with half lidded eyes, there was a light sheen of sweat covering both of them, soft skin glistening in the light of the lanterns. Flushed cheeks, tousled hair, old and new love bites decorating them both. When he kisses her lips, she tastes her juices still on his tongue.

"You're so pretty, Shinobu." He sighs out, kissing at her lips one more time with a hum before flopping his body down to lay beside her. Resting one of his hands on her panting chest and the other on his own, wanting to feel her racing heartbeat alongside his as she comes down from her high. She knows that he likes to be reminded of his own recently discovered heart as often as he can be. Closing her eyes, Shinobu lets herself drift off to enjoy the pleasant buzz that came after finishing.

"We're to be married within the month." Douma says after a bout of silence. It doesn't startle her like it usually would, she felt his hand fidgeting on her chest and knew that he would open his mouth again sooner rather than later. She supposes that she knows his habits as well, now.

"Are we?" She asks breathily, her mind elsewhere while her eyes were still closed. Douma liked to ramble about their upcoming marriage more than she liked to hear. So much that she now tends to tune out his voice completely when he does. Douma doesn't seem to mind, or if he does he doesn't voice that it bothers him.

"Mhm, I planned the date a week after your nineteenth birthday." He says, and Shinobu's eyes shoot open in shock. The simple statement catches her off guard. Her birthday? Already? Douma doesn't seem to see her growing distress, too engrossed in his own words.

"My followers are quite excited, especially the new ones who haven't seen you. Some of the women are busy making you a wedding kimono, and the rest have a whole feast planned for after the celebration." He prattles on, a large smile gracing his face. Shinobu shifts her body, letting his hand fall off of her chest as she sits up and runs a hand through her sweat tousled hair. 

"It's already February?" Shinobu asks, furrowing her brows. A frown marring her pretty lips, glossed with spit from their kisses. 

"You seem troubled by that." Douma says to her, his large hand coming to rub at her back. Though his tone is now somewhat flat there's still a jovial smile on his face. She doesn't say it, but she is troubled. Very troubled. If she remembered correctly, Douma had brought her back to the temple in the summer, how had so many months passed already that she hadn't even noticed? She had missed the passing into the new year?

It's been over a year now since she's seen Tamayo or Yushiro. Having left to look for the blue spider lily in the midst of winter when she was seventeen. She feels a sinking feeling in her chest as she thinks of them, her throat growing tight as she tries to think of her next words. "I fear I've lost my sense of time down here." She finally says, keeping her voice quiet to hide the shakiness behind it. 

"Do you want to go outside?" Douma asks, and Shinobu practically falls backwards as she turns to look down at him.

"Outside?" She can't help the childish way her voice sounds when she parrots his words back to him. Douma nods at her, pushing up where he was propped on his elbows, his smile was now more gentle, not as bright and loud.

"Yes, outside the temple. It's snowing tonight." He says, too casually for her liking.

"Why now?" Shinobu chokes out. Confusion running through her. Had she finally proved her loyalty enough that he trusts her to have some freedom? Or was this a test of her loyalty?

"You've never asked, I assumed you wanted to say down here." Douma says, shrugging his shoulders. Shinobu can feel a vein pop on her forehead. Though her temper flares at him, the anger hot and burning in her chest, she pushes it down until it's completely extinguished. The thought alone of her being able to leave these rooms had her quivering in excitement. 

"Yes, I would like to go outside." She nods, moving quickly to stand up and get herself dressed. She can hear Douma behind her putting his clothes back on as she rummages through the kyodai and chest. The clinking of his belt, the rustling of his sweater. He's quiet, uncharacteristically so, but Shinobu doesn't pay attention to it.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she wraps and ties her winter hakama in place to keep herself warm, it's pink, so much like the shade hidden in his eyes, mixed with the blues and purples. As she pulls the thick tabi socks that Douma had gifted her over her feet, she thinks of how she hadn't had the need for any of those things until now, most of his gifts were just buried in her kyodai and forgotten, so it feels strange to finally put them on. She doesn't bother pulling her hair back up, letting the thick waves fall and brush at her collarbone.

As they leave his personal rooms, up out of where he kept his tomb of skulls and treasures. Shinobu can't help the giddiness she feels, it feels childish, to be so excited over something as simple as going outside, but she doesn't care. Douma is still silent like she's never seen before guiding her throughout the many quiet halls of the temple, she assumes that his followers are asleep.

There's a tension to his shoulders that he's trying to hide, a smile that doesn't seem sincere. She can feel his clawed fingers digging into the layered fabric of her hakama as he holds her upper arms. He's preparing, in case she decides to run from him. She easily could, she could trick him into a game and then bolt into the mountain forests when he has his back turned. She could run straight back to Tamayo, to Yushiro, to the Slayers. 

She could be free.

Even if there's an instinct inside of her to do just that, Shinobu knows that it won't do any good. He'd find her again, kill the ones she loved to bring her back, and all the trust that she's spent so long building with him will be broken...and she doesn't want to run from him either.

She wants to stay.

Shinobu briefly feels overwhelmed when he opens the temple doors. It's nighttime, as she expected it to be, he's not so stupid as to let her out during the day. True to his word, it was in fact snowing. Not as heavily as she thought, a light flurry of snowflakes gently falling to the thick blanket of snow laying on the ground. She hesitates before she steps out, off of the final step of his temple, it doesn't feel real to her yet, she's afraid that the moment her foot hits the ground she'll wake up from a dream, still locked away in the rooms down below.

After what feels like a lifetime, Shinobu steps off into the snow, her sandal sinking down until she felt the biting cold of the snow through her tabi socks. It was real, it was so very real.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh cold air, a tiny smile comes to her face as a laugh bubbles out of her lips. Everything felt so wonderful, the cold breeze on her skin, the snowflakes landing delicately on her eyelashes. She hadn't realized how deprived she had felt in his rooms until she was let free.

She imagines this is what it's like to be a house pet, finally released back into its natural habitat.

"Oh, Shinobu. How cute you are! Your nose and cheeks are already so pink." Douma laughs, coming up to her side so he can brush the snow from her dark hair.  "I often forget how fragile humans are, we'll have to get you warmed up when we go back inside." There's a suggestive implication to his words that is poorly hidden, but Shinobu doesn't scold him like she usually would. 

The snow was so beautiful, so pure, sparkling and shimmering under the moonlight. It reminds her of her mama.

Her happiness dampens, why had she thought of that? The smile on her face dies down until she finds her eyes quickly glossing over with unshed tears. Beside her, Douma makes a noise of bewilderment, obviously confused by her sudden  switch in moods.

"Shinobu?" He asks, and for the first time Shinobu hears hesitation in his voice. In different circumstances, she'd find it humorous. A man that was always so sure of himself, never questioning his own feelings or thoughts, actually being confused because of her. She wonders if this was the first time it's ever happened in his life.

"My mama always loved the snow." She says, leaning down and running her hand through the icy cold powder that had freshly fallen. Though her voice is quiet and somewhat sorrowful, a small bittersweet smile still graces her lips. 

"Every winter when the first snow would fall, she would always be so happy. She'd bundle us up, take us outside to play in it for hours. It was so cold my fingers would turn numb, but I never wanted to go inside." The memory of her mama, dancing and spinning in the snow with an almost childlike joy. She always thought her mama was so beautiful, just like Kanae.

"Kanae didn't like it as much, she was like our papa...they preferred the spring, when it was warm enough for the flowers to first bloom and the caterpillars would turn to butterflies." That's what she thinks of when she remembers her beloved older sister. She thinks of pink and green butterflies tickling her nose, she thinks of sweet smelling flowers with colors just like the ones swirling in his eyes. 

"You've never told me this much about your family." He says, though his voice is monotone there is still something chirpy still about his words. It's true, she hadn't. Before, she hadn't seen a need to tell him anything about her. Now...she supposed it didn't matter.

"You've never asked." Shinobu can't help but say, repeating his words from earlier to use against him. She hears the slightest snicker come from him at that.

"Tell me more." Douma says eagerly, and for a moment, Shinobu is taken back to when they first met. When he was nothing but a man who saved her from the mountains and courted her, when he didn't have the sharp blue claws on his fingers or the kanji in his rainbow eyes.

So many memories run through her head all at once. When she and Kanae would weave flower crowns for each other during the summers, helping her father prepare and cook meals for their guests, her mother teaching her all she knows about pharmaceuticals.

One memory stands out, nagging in her head until it's all she can think of, and while it is not a happy memory it is still part of her past. Part of her. She never told him what actually happened when they died, and while he knew the gist of the story from where ever he had gotten his information from, he didn't know the details, he didn't know her side of the story.

"They died in the cold." She says, quietly. Willing herself to be strong, to tell him the truth. She has no real reason to, he's lied to her so much it would be just of her to lie back. Though hard to admit to herself, Shinobu realizes that she wants him to know. She wants him to know her.

"We lived outside of our village, in a nice home. My parents worked hard and made good money to let us live a privileged life." A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, thinking of her childhood home. Her parents had worked so hard for her and Kanae.

"I think it was October, or November...snow was expected to fall soon, mama was so excited for it, she talked about it almost the entire walk home from our dinner." Shinobu tells him, remembering that night before everything went wrong. She had eaten her favorite meal of ginger tsukudani, and was wearing a yellow and purple kimono with autumn leaves decorating it. Her parents had taken them out to celebrate her mother's recent promotion at the hospital they worked at.

"I don't know if it followed us, or if it had already been watching our home, maybe it was just purely coincidental and stumbled upon us during its travels..." Her voice trembles as she chokes back her tears at the memories.

"My papa tried fighting it, but it was too strong. Kanae ran and hid me in our parents closet before it could see...I never even saw its face." The more she tells him, the worse she feels. Her mind and body being taken back to remember that awful time all over again, the old familiar feeling of panic and fear making her face tingle, even if she knows she's safe. 

"I hid in their closet for three days, when my family was just outside, dead and discarded."

Tears finally fall from her large eyes, little salty droplets rolling down her cheeks as her bottom lip quivers. Her knees suddenly feel so weak, and she thinks she might collapse...she takes in a breath, trying to calm herself, but it sounds more like a sob, only making her chest feel so much tighter.

"That piece of shit ruined my life, it killed my family and took away everything I had...and I don't even know what it looks like." She cries out, chest heaving as she wails her sorrows out in the cold night.

Douma is there now, wrapping his arms around her to keep her upright as she falls into his chest weeping. She thinks pitifully of herself, no better than Douma's followers who cry and scrounge at his feet, but damn it did it finally feel good to cry.

So many years of bitterness and resentment, of pushing down her feelings and hiding it behind a smile, was being unleashed all at once. Her lungs felt as if they were collapsing, her heart stinging in her chest. It's ironic in a way, crying in the arms of a demon about how another demon ruined her life and killed her family, but if that were true then why, oh why did his arms have to feel so good wrapped around her? A part of her hates herself for it, that she'd allow herself to stoop so low that she only finds comfort being buried within him.

Shinobu doesn't know how long they stay there, entangled in the snowy night as she sheds as many tears as she needs to. At some point, she wraps her arms around his waist to bring him closer to her, to meld their bodies together until she wasn't sure where she ended and he started. 

Her tears stop eventually, after what feels like hours to her, even if the hiccuping breathes stay with her. It felt strange, to feel so much better but also so much worse at the same exact time.

Fisting her hands into the loose fabric on the back of his sweater, Shinobu rests her head against his chest and closes her eyes. She feels so sleepy, her eyes strained and stinging from her crying, she very well could fall asleep just like this.

Douma doesn't let her, grabbing at her jaw languidly so he can bring her face back up so their eyes would meet. Shinobu sniffles as his hand pushes back into her hair, softly flexing his fingers around the loose strands at her scalp. Her nose is stuffy, cheeks are red and irritated, both wet with old tears that have now turned cold. Shinobu can't help but feel embarrassed at the thought of her appearance. Does he think of her as pathetic? He had explained his own parent's deaths to her once, without having a complete meltdown in the process. Perhaps he just doesn't understand what was so distressing to her.

The kaleidoscope swirl of colors, so vivid against the background of stark white snow. They're hypnotic, those eyes of his, drawing her in deeper nearly every time she looks.

Leaning down to be closer to her level, Douma presses the tip of his nose to hers, their faces so close that they're sharing the air between them. There's a blankness to his face that she doesn't see often, furrowed brows and firm set lips as he studies her face.

This was him. Not the divine child that spoke to gods, not upper two of the twelve kizuki. This was Douma, without any mask hiding his true self. She likes him better like this, but she won't tell him that now. That was for another time...but now, Shinobu realizes that the walls she kept guarded around her heart from him have finally broken down.

Lifting herself to her tip toes, she presses her swollen lips against his. It's not lustful, it’s not meant to end with them ripping each other’s clothes off and ravaging their bodies with their lips and tongues and teeth. It's soft, innocent, a kiss that is meant to show love between them. A clear difference to their usual kisses, often burning and forceful with desire. Shinobu wants more of this. More of the softness, more of the sweetness.

She won’t say the words, not yet, maybe not ever…but they both feel it.

There’s a shift, a new sense of belonging. A warmth in her chest, feelings that made her lightheaded with adoration. The sparks of lightning buzzing between them was always there, but now she feels the lovestruck butterflies in her stomach, fluttering up all the way to her heart until their wings wrapped around it completely. 

Shinobu has given Douma her body, she’s laid out her flesh on a silver platter for him to take and indulge himself with whenever he pleased. She thought at first that it was enough for her, that she could love his body instead to distract her from her true feelings, but now she realizes that she was wrong. So very wrong. She needed him completely. Heart and mind, body and soul.

Douma has asked for her heart more times than she can remember, and she would give it again if she could, but she knows that she’s already given it to him a long time ago…at least now she can accept it.

She loves him.