Archive of Our Own

Hi everyone. This is a gift and an au to Xamor's  Hantengu Dead and Gone. Based on the Kakushi girl from demon slayer who carried Tanjiro to swordsmith village and Urogi from her Tumblr prompt. Alot of the easter eggs and HC's here came from her fic. Enjoy. Xamor thank you for letting me play in your sand box for a bit  

Kaede longed for the sun.

She hadn’t realised how much she had taken it for granted until now. It’s beautiful red and gold hue when it set, the heat on her face in the summer, its white light at the peak of noon.

Oh how she missed it.

Her fingers traced some cracks absentmindedly at the floorboard on the wall.

She swallowed thickly, she was losing track of time. But did it matter? Did time matter at all in this place?

She heard the door opening and without hesitating she sat up.

She didn’t want to look broken in as she was afraid that would get him bored and he would be rid of her faster. Nor did she put up defiance or complaint lest that result in punishment.

“Morning my little swallow,” he sang.

Kaede sighed and looked up at him.

“Morning” she said without smiling.

She saw the bowl of food in his talons. Knew she would have to “thank” him for bringing him food with her mouth. It was always upsetting, degrading, but she had learned not to show it because things would be worse for her if she did.

Urogi was kind when he was placated or as kind as a demon could be, so she took what she could in her otherwise dismal circumstances.

“How are you feeling today little bird? Healing I hope?”

She felt her toes and flexed her wrist.

“I think so…” she mumbled.

He grinned at her, plopping himself nearby.

Kaede swallowed, looking at the food with disinterest. A chicken donburi paired with some miso and edamame. Bought or made she didn’t know.

“Hmm your face has healed up nicely,” he commented, talon stroking the line of her jaw.

Kaede said nothing and knew better than the flinch. Urogi lingered near her a moment longer, his talon putting some of her hair behind her ear.

“Try not to dwell on it too much. Honestly it was unlike him. He doesn’t really…show interest in our pets. Thinks they are beneath him.”

Kaede absorbed that for a few moments.

Was that his idea of bringing her comfort? Or soothing her after what happened with Sekido?

Well she supposed it was. He was a demon after all.

“Eat up little swallow. I’m sure you’re hungry. I want you to regain your strength. And when you do…I’ll take you flying like the first time we met!”

An inward shudder went through her when he mentioned that, but she said nothing.

He nuzzled her for a minute making a content bird like trill before leaving her be. Thankfully.

It seemed he was letting her heal today and she didn’t have to give him oral in order to be fed this time.

At least there was some regard there for her wellbeing compared to his green eyed counterpart.

Kaede found she hated him more than she hated Urogi.

Karaku was crass, cruel and depraved at a completely different level to the avian demon. When he had brought her food the other week while Urogi was out, presumably doing things for Kibutsuji, he set the tray aside.

“You can crawl to me…”

Kaede remembered her mouth going dry and her throat aching, knowing what he wanted. She made the mistake of thinking she would get the reprieve Urogi was giving her after Sekido’s brutal assault. Her ribs were still healing as was her ankle and wrist. Half of her face was still mottled purple.

“I am still healing…” she said weakly, wincing. There was still a dull ache between her legs despite a fortnight passing since that time.

“Haha that’s so cute. Your mouth works just fine. Open wide.”

Kaede wanted to cry. All she wanted was a break. But she knew begging was pointless. It would only excite him more.

Karaku loomed over her, his demonic form casting a shadow that swallowed the dim light of the basement she was kept in.

He looked at her with that sick amusement, his lips curling into a leer as he unfastened the red sash of his hakama, purposely slow to draw out the tension. The fabric parted, revealing his cock already hardening, veins bulging along its length, the head flushed and demanding. He stroked it once, lazily.

"Come on, pet," he taunted, "Don't make me drag you over. Or maybe I should, Urogi will probably like hearing how you squirmed."

She swallowed hard, her mouth indeed dry as dust, throat raw from unspoken screams. Healing or not, refusal meant worse.

With a whimper she couldn't suppress, Kaede pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Pain lanced through her wrist immediately. Her ribs screamed as she adjusted her weight, each inch forward a battle against her battered body. The ankle dragged uselessly, scraping against the rough stone, sending jolts up her leg.

Karaku watched, chuckling, his hand pumping his cock in slow, teasing strokes. Precum beaded at the tip, glistening already. By the time she reached him, sweat beaded on her forehead, mixing with the tears she blinked back. She knelt there, her bruised face tilted up toward him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Good girl," he chortled, but there was no kindness in it. His free hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back roughly to expose her mouth. The pull stung her scalp, and she winced, but he didn't care. "Now, open that pretty little mouth. Show me how grateful you are for the food."

Kaede's lips parted on a shaky breath, her jaw aching from the tension. She hated the way her body betrayed her, the instinctive compliance born of too many beatings. Karaku didn't wait; he thrust forward, shoving his cock past her teeth and over her tongue in one brutal motion. The salty tang of his skin flooded her senses, the girth stretching her mouth wide, pressing against the roof and filling her until she gagged.

He groaned, hips bucking shallowly as he held her head in place. "Fuck, yeah. That's it. Come on , a bit more enthusiasm." His fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her forward until her nose brushed his pelvis. She choked, saliva pooling and dripping from the corners of her mouth, but he only laughed, pulling back just enough to slam in again.

Tears streamed down her cheeks now, mixing with the spit that trailed down her chin. Her ribs burned with every involuntary heave of her chest, the motion jarring her injuries. She tried to breathe through her nose, but his pace quickened. The head of his cock battered the back of her throat, triggering her gag reflex over and over, her body convulsing in protest.

Karaku reveled in it, his perverse grin widening as he watched her struggle. "Look at you, all broken and still taking it. Urogi's got you trained good, huh? Bet he doesn't make you work this hard."

He yanked her hair harder, forcing her to meet his gaze, her eyes watering and red-rimmed. The sight only spurred him on; he thrust deeper, grinding against her face, his cock twitching with building pleasure.

Kaede's world narrowed to the invasion in her mouth—the musky scent of him, the wet sounds of her choking, the ache in her jaw that spread to her temples. She didn't fight, couldn't, not with her body so frail. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks weakly, sucking as he demanded, her tongue pressed flat against the underside of his shaft. It was mechanical, devoid of any spark of desire, just survival.

"Mmm, faster" he growled, his other hand joining the first to control her completely. He face-fucked her now. Drool slicked her lips and chin leaking down on her chest. Her wrist gave a warning twinge as she braced against his thigh, but she endured, the food tray mocking her from the side.

Minutes stretched into agony, her throat raw and swollen, until Karaku's breaths grew ragged. "Gonna cum down your throat, pet. Swallow every drop, or I'll make you lick it off the floor."

His warning was unnecessary; she knew the consequences. With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep, cock pulsing as hot spurts of cum flooded her mouth. She gagged on the bitter flood, forcing herself to swallow around him, the liquid burning down her abused throat.

He held her there until he softened, pulling out with a wet pop, strings of saliva and semen connecting her lips to his tip. Karaku released her hair, stepping back to tuck himself away, smirking down at her crumpled form. Kaede coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the taste lingering like bile. Her body shook, ribs heaving painfully, but she didn't dare move toward the food yet.

"Eat up," he said casually, kicking the tray closer with his foot. "You'll need your strength. Urogi's due back soon, and I bet he's got ideas for that mouth too." He turned away, leaving her there on the floor, broken and used, the hatred in her chest burning hotter than ever.

At least Urogi treated her with a drop of consideration. Karaku on the other hand, as little more than a back alley whore and hot place between two legs for him.

Sekido, though, was far worse and she didn’t want to encounter him again. The blue eyed one, Aizetsu, as she had come to learn, mostly ignored her. She preferred him above all the others as he brought her food without comment and didn’t seem to expect anything.

Sniffing after rinsing her mouth, she took the chop sticks and ate the food Karaku had left for her. It tasted like ash in her mouth, but she forced herself to eat nourishment because if she didn’t she would be force fed.

She shuddered remembering at one point in the first few days here, she had refused to eat. More out of depression than any rebellion. Being catatonic did not save her. Urogi simply pinched her nose, chewed up food himself and forced it into her mouth.

When she almost vomited he clasped his hand over her mouth letting the vomit explode out through his fingers and mostly through her nose.

“Oh that wasn’t pleasant was it?” he laughed as she sputtered and gagged, her throat and nose burning.

“Still want to refuse eating?” He sneered. She managed to shake her head then between gasps, wiping the vomit from her face with the back of her arm. But oddly, he offered a wet cloth and some water to clean her face with.

“See? It is so much easier when you know your place. Good pets get rewarded,” he said with a happy chirp. Kaede accepted it wordlessly and cleaned her face and rinsed her mouth and said nothing when Urogi grabbed some meat with the chop sticks and aimed them at her lips like she was a small toddler he was trying to feed.

She finished the Donburi and set it aside. Moving to the wash basin to clean her teeth.

She’d earned a few privileges in the weeks…or months of being here. She got a little chest where a few kimonos were stored and a small little vanity and a pretty comb for her hair.

Urogi she supposed, wanted her in some form of good condition.

She took a minute to look into the mirror and check her face. It was still an assortment of colours, but had faded to the more bluish brownish hue. At least her left eye wasn’t swollen shut anymore.

Kaede rubbed some salve into her face Urogi had brought for her from God knows where. She wasn’t sure what it was made of, but it did help. It seemed similar to the salves Lady Kocho and her nurses made back at the Butterfly mansion, but this was probably a more standard recipe Urogi probably stole from a physician's house or a small hospital.

The minutes ticked by and Kaede retreated back to her corner.

It was at these moments, after the assaults that the guilt came heavily. For the thousandth time Kaede wondered if she deserved this and if this was punishment from the Gods for betraying the Corp. For being a coward.

She hadn’t meant to be, but what was she supposed to do?
********************************************************************************************************************************

Kaede adjusted her pack as she headed back from the swordsmith village. She had successfully dropped off Kamado at the entrance, and it had been a rather pleasant journey. Kamado was very polite and chatted to her as they went on their journey.

He’d inquired about her past and why she had joined the kakushi. She told him she had joined straight after final selection as she was more suited to tracking and running long distances than fighting. That her breathing style like his was water breathing, the standard one most Corp members learned.

That there was nothing that made her remarkable at all. Kamado had disagreed saying she should be proud and that she was so strong. Being able to run with him on her back for a whole day across terrain was no easy feet. She supposed it wasn’t.

After dropping him off, Kaede had bathed, eaten, grabbed some supplies and headed back off to her rendezvous point to switch places with another kakushi for a few hours of watch before she herself would retire.

Only for something to pick her up straight from the ground.

“Oh it’s been so long since I have had some fun.”

The wind vanished from beneath Kaede’s feet.

One moment she was running.
The next — she was airborne.

A scream tore from her throat as talons hooked into the back of her uniform and lifted her as easily as if she weighed nothing. The forest floor shrank in seconds, trees blurring into a green smear beneath them.

Cold air knifed into her lungs.

He flew higher.

Higher.

Then he dropped her.

Not all the way.

Just enough.

Her stomach lurched into her throat as she plummeted, only for clawed hands to snatch her ankle mid-fall. He swung her upside down like a child dangling a toy.

“Wheeewwww!!!” the demon crowed, bright and delighted. “You humans make the best squeaky noises!”

He spun.

The world became sky-earth-sky-earth in nauseating succession. Her pack tore loose and vanished below. Blood rushed to her head, mask pressing painfully into her face as she struggled to breathe.

“Should I let you go?” he mused aloud, tilting his head mid-air as if genuinely considering it. “I wonder how loud you’d splat from this height. Think you’d bounce? Oh! I hope you bounce!”

He released her again.

This time longer.

The scream ripped raw from her chest.

Branches whipped past. The ground rushed upward in brutal clarity—

—and he caught her again, laughing so hard his wings shuddered.

“Ohhhh those eyes! That was a good one! Do it again!”

He tossed her upward like a ball, darting around her in the sky, tapping her shoulder, flicking her side, sending her tumbling weightless before grabbing her by the collar again.

She reached for the blade hidden in her sleeve.

He noticed instantly.

“Ohhh? Ohhh?” His grin widened. “You wanna play fighter? That’s adorable.”

He squeezed just enough to make her fingers go numb.

Then he climbed.

Higher than before.

Cloud-kiss height.

The wind was brutal now, screaming in her ears.

“Alright,” he chirped happily, holding her out at arm’s length over nothing but open air. “Let’s see how pretty your insides look when they’re outside—”

Her mask tore free.

It slipped from her face and spun away into the sky.

He blinked.
Paused.

Actually paused mid-flap.

His golden eyes widened.

“…Oh.”

The wild grin changed. Not gone. Just different.

He drifted closer, cocking his head left. Then right.

“Ohhh. Well that’s not fair.”

Kaede froze, breath shaking.

“You’re not supposed to be cute.”

He brought her closer to eye level, studying her face openly, shamelessly. His mood had flipped like a switch.

“I was gonna drop ya,” he said conversationally. "I already decided and everything.”

He hovered there a moment longer then grinned.

“But I’m in a good mood today.”

Before she could react, he leaned in and pressed a quick, exaggerated kiss to her cheek.

Smack.

She gasped.

He did it again. The other side.

Smack.

Then her forehead.

Smack.

Licked her cheek.

“You’re lucky!” he sang. “I’ve got a soft spot for pretty faces! Makes it way less fun when they get all squishy!”

He pulled back, examining her flushed, horrified expression with delight.

“Look at you. You’re shaking. That’s adorable.”

He mocked her with a chuckle, his breath fanning her lips. Then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to hers in a forceful kiss, his tongue invading her almost without resistance. She was just that frozen in fear. She whimpered as his lips bruised hers, tongue thrusting deep to claim every inch of her mouth.

Kaede's eyes widened, a muffled protest vibrating against him, but he didn’t seem to notice and held her closer as she tried to wriggle away.

He tongue swept over hers, his lips sucking on her lower lip, nipping just hard enough to draw a bead of blood that he lapped up with a satisfied growl.

Her hands pushed weakly at his chest, fingers curling into the bulky muscles there, but the kiss overwhelmed her senses. The awful wet slide of his tongue tangling with hers, the scrape of his fangs against her soft palate, the way his body pressed harder into hers as they hovered mid-air.

She shrieked into his mouth, but it did little to help the situation. Urogi's grip tightened, one talon tracing down her spine, sending shivers racing across her skin. He broke the kiss only to dive back in, deeper, hungrier, his free hand roaming to squeeze her hip and then her ass.

Kaede's mind fractured under the assault, more from a combination of horrified disbelief and humiliation at being kissed like this, mid-air, like some prize; the press of his mouth stripping away her defenses. He pulled back finally, a string of saliva connecting their lips, his eyes glowing with perverse delight.

“Mmm, you taste like fear and spring. My favorite.” He licked his lips, holding her closer as they drifted lower, the ground still far below. “Think I'll spare you, little swallow. For now.”

His grip loosened.

“I’ll let you go.”

Her heart slammed harder.

He leaned close, nose brushing near her temple as he inhaled slowly.

Deeply.

His voice dropped a fraction, still playful, but the warning was there.

“But if you tell anyone you saw a demon here…”

His smile turned sinister.

“I will hunt you down.”

Another slow inhale.

“I remember scents.”

He tapped her nose lightly with one claw.

“And yours is very easy to remember.”

The next second he let go.

Not from deadly height, but still high enough that she hit the treetops hard, branches breaking her fall before she crashed into the undergrowth below.

By the time she could drag in a full breath and force herself upright—

He was gone.

Only distant laughter echoed through the sky.
Light.
Carefree.

As though he had just finished a delightful game.

************************************************************************************************************************************
A tear fell down her cheek, she quickly rubbed it away. She had kept her promise, too scared to say anything and because she had been quiet, Upper Moon 4 had found the swordsmith village along with Upper Moon 5. Many had died and Upper 4 had only escaped due to the emerging sunlight.

Urogi had tracked her down a week later.

How?

She did not know. Perhaps she had been careless in hiding her trail.

She sniffed again.

There was no life for her in the Corp now even if she somehow got away. If they knew what she had done…had chosen silence, she would be executed as a traitor. She’d be considered responsible for so many deaths and she was. The destruction of an entire village important to the Corp’s function and ability to fight demons.

Being taken by an Upper Moon as their play thing? She wouldn’t even be granted the honour of seppuku and they would see her as an accomplice not a victim. That she was Urogi’s willing concubine and had covered for him so they could attack the village.

She was nothing but damned.

So….

Why did she cling to life?

That she couldn’t answer either. Kaede certainly didn’t want to die, but her life was just as bleak while she remained alive. These demons would kill her eventually. When they got bored of her.

That’s what happened to demon pets. She knew that better than anyone. She was a kakushi after all and had to clean up plenty of gore left in their wake or assist in the transport of victims to one of the Corp bases for recovery.

She knew what these demons were capable of. Had seen the results. Goto and her had found one woman barely clinging to life after an assault by a demon. Haemorrhaging between her legs, arms and ankles snapped at wrong angles, face barely recognizable and several teeth had been knocked out.

Kaede wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock. A self soothing habit she had adopted in her captivity.

The night Sekido had decided to assault her, she thought she would meet the same fate. He had held back, but barely.

“I don’t normally indulge my pathetic clones and their pets. They have loathsome standards, but you seem way too comfortable. You’re from the Corp after all and I would love nothing more than to see the hope dash from your eyes,” he snarled at her.

She wasn’t sure what set him off. He had thrown a tea cup at her, one he ordered her to make, claiming it tasted like piss. Her hatred must have shone through instead of the neutral deference she was supposed to be wearing.

Instead of bracing herself, she foolishly tried to fight back.

She tried to scratch his arm from where he gripped her.

He back handed her so hard she must have temporarily passed out.

“Bitch.” Was all she heard before feeling herself be flipped over, kimono hiked up, hands held behind her back as he slammed into her without mercy. Her vision had spots of black as he kept going.

“You’re nothing but livestock. Not even fit for eating. I’d kill you, but I would rather ruin you instead.”

When he had finished, her ankle was bent at the wrong angle and her wrist was broken as were several of her ribs.

There was cum pooling between her legs or was it blood? Or her own piss? She couldn’t tell.

She just laid there, unmoving, breathing shallow.

Someone eventually walked in on her.

‘Shit…’ There was a tired sigh.

Aizetsu?

Said demon's silhouette hovered in the doorway for a moment. He did not rush to her immediately. He assessed. His eyes moved clinically, lingering on the unnatural angle of her wrist, the shallow rise of her chest, the swelling along her ribs.

“…This is troublesome,” he muttered, more with irritation than concern.

He crouched beside her carefully, not touching yet.

“Can you hear me?”

Footsteps — lighter, impatient — echoed down the hall.

Then wings brushed the frame.

“Hey Aize I fou—”

Urogi stopped mid-sentence.

The air went cold.
Silence.

Not playful silence.
Not amused silence.

Still.
Too still.

Urogi’s eyes widened.

“…What.”
Aizetsu didn’t look at him. “He lost his temper.”

They all knew who he was.

A loud inhale.

The next second Urogi was beside her, kneeling hard enough that the floorboards creaked. His taloned fingers hovered over her, not touching yet, taking in the bruising, the blood, the dislocated ankle, the blank look as her eyes fluttered, barely able to stay awake.

“She’s bent,” he said, oddly emotionless.

“She has multiple fractures,” Aizetsu replied. “Likely internal bruising. If not worse.”

Urogi frowned, his jaw ticking in annoyance. More trying to cover up for something far uglier he was feeling.

Then he snapped.

“He left her like this?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

Aizetsu hesitated. “Long enough.”

A cold humorless laugh escaped Urogi.

“That’s not funny.”

His hand finally moved, sliding beneath her shoulders carefully despite the agitation in his form.
“Can’t fucking respect propery can he,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

Aizetsu’s gaze flicked to him briefly.

“You are unusually agitated.”

“Shut up.”

Aizetsu sighed.

Urogi slid one arm under her knees, pausing when she flinched even in semi-consciousness.

The flinch made him go rigid. He didn’t understand why.

“…I didn’t do that,” he snapped defensively, though no one had accused him.

Aizetsu said nothing.

Urogi lifted her carefully, surprisingly careful, adjusting her broken wrist so it wouldn’t jostle.

“I’m taking her.”

“To your quarters?” Aizetsu asked dryly.

“Yes.”

“That is unwise. She's a pet.”

“I don’t care.”

The anger in his voice was unmistakable now.

Aizetsu sighed. “Very well. I will retrieve a physician. A human one. If she survives without proper setting, she will heal crooked.”

Urogi’s eyes flashed at the word "survives."

“She’s not dying,” he said hotly.

Aizetsu gave him a long look.

“I did not say she was.”
But they both knew it was possible.

Urogi turned, carrying her down the corridor. His wings brushed the walls in agitation.

Under his breath, he cursed.

“He can tear apart slayers all he wants. That’s the point.”

He looked down at her, teeth grinding.

“But this?”

Another irritated laugh.

“So fucking humourless. Seriously.”

He kicked his door open with his talon and shut it behind him loudly.

Laid her down on his bedding, well his nest of sheets really and adjusted her ankle carefully when it angled wrong.

He hovered over her a moment, scanning her face.

The color of her lips. There was god awful amount of blood between her thighs.

Her breathing changed.

“Don’t you dare,” he muttered quietly.

It wasn’t playful.
It wasn’t teasing.
It was almost a warning.

Whether to her — or to the room — wasn’t clear. Aizetsu paused at the threshold before leaving.

“You are making this complicated.”

Urogi didn’t look at him.

“She was mine.”

The statement hung heavy.

Aizetsu studied him and then sighed.

“I will return with help.”

The door slid shut.

When she awoke, she remembered being in his room. Probably the first time she had been there. Otherwise she was locked in the basement, naked for his uses and Karaku’s.

Her wrist and ankle had been set, she was actually dressed in a oversized yukata and tucked comfortably for once.

The fabric was clean.

The bedding soft.

Not the cold room with the stone floor she was use to.The air smelled faintly of cedar and something primal like damp earth.

She tried to move.

Pain flared.

A shadow moved immediately.

“Don’t.”

The voice was close.

Her eyes opened slowly. Or one of them. The other she realised was completely swollen shut.

Urogi was sitting next to her, elbows on his feathered knees, watching her. Not grinning that usual demonic smirk of his. Just watching.

His wings were folded, but tense. When he was happy they were usually fluffy.

“You’ll pull it out of place again,” he said, nodding toward her wrist. “Human bones are so flimsy. It’s annoying.”

She swallowed.

His head tilted in that owl like way it always did.

“…Feeling okay now?.” he said in observation.

He shuffled closer.

“You were out for two days,” he added casually. “Aizetsu made a big deal about it. Thought you might not make it.”

A faint scoff.

“I told him you would.”

She tried to speak. Her throat was dry.

He noticed that too.

With visible irritation, not at her, but at the situation, he reached for a cup nearby and held it to her lips.

“Don’t make it weird,” he muttered as she hesitated. “It’s just water.”

He lifted her head.
She drank.
Slowly.

He didn’t rush her, which she supposed was nice.

He just waited.

When she pulled back, he set the cup aside with a soft click.

Silence lingered.

“You’re lucky,” he said finally.

There it was.

“Sekido doesn’t half-finish things often.”

Kaede said nothing, merely listened, more feeling sorry for herself.

He gently brushed some hair away from her face, which surprised her.

“You pissed him off,” he continued. “And you’re a kakushi.”

The word came out harshly. Contempt, almost.

“You represent the Corp. The runners. The clean-up crew. The ones who make it easier for slayers to keep coming.”

His eyes flicked over her injuries.

“He wanted to remind you how small that makes you.”

Just blunt truth.

She stared at the ceiling.

“I didn’t….,” she whispered hoarsely, not sure how she could defend herself.

Urogi snorted.

“That wasn’t the point.”

He leaned closer then, golden eyes assessing her, but more intensely than usual.

“Listen carefully.”

His claw tapped lightly against the pillow near her shoulder.

“You do not look at him unless he speaks to you.”

A pause.

“You do not answer back.”

Another pause.

“And you do not cry in front of him.”

His eyes narrowed.

“He hates weakness he doesn’t cause.”

That was as close to concern as he would frame it.

He straightened himself after a moment.

“You’re alive because Aizetsu and I walked in when we did.”

He stated it as a simple fact.

“And because since then I told him to leave you alone. He will so long as you don't get in his way.”

That was important.

He wanted her to understand the hierarchy.

The protection had a source.

She moved again, wincing.

His hand moved instinctively to steady her shoulder.

“You heal,” he said. “You stay quiet.”

His expression morphed again— something closer to his usual joy trying to return.

“And you don’t make me look stupid.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

He clicked his tongue.

“If you die after I made all that noise about you surviving, I’ll be annoyed.”

There it was.

The Urogi tone creeping back in.

“Now be a good little pet and heal yourself. You have that total concentration breathing no? You should heal faster.”

He cared and fussed over her for the next two days. She mostly rested, too tired and in too much pain to move. But whatever Sekido had done, seemed to have changed the dynamic between them a bit.
Urogi did not leave for long stretches when he could avoid it.

He perched near the window, upside down sometimes, grinning at her like an idiot. He adjusted her blankets when they slipped. Complained loudly when she didn’t finish her food. Hovered whenever she tried to sit up.

“You’re terrible at being injured,” he informed her on the third morning. “At least scream or something. It’s more entertaining.”

She gave him a flat look.

That only encouraged him.

“Oh! That’s better. That’s almost annoyed.”

He launched into stories without invitation.
Not comforting ones.
Never comforting.

“Karaku once dared me to see how long a slayer could keep swinging after I broke both arms,” he said cheerfully, dangling from the ceiling beam. “Turns out, quite a while. Humans are stubborn.”
A pause.
“I let him kick me for a bit. It was funny.”

She stared at him, horrified.
He mistook it for engagement.

“And then there was this one monk slayer who kept chanting while I was flying him around. Wouldn’t stop. Even when I dropped him in the river.” He grinned. “He floated for a while. I thought that was fascinating.”

Silence.
He frowned.

“You’re supposed to react.”

“I… don’t know what reaction you want,” she muttered weakly.

He let out a bird like trill.

“Any.”

A long pause passed.

Then, unexpectedly, she huffed softly.
It wasn’t quite a laugh.
More disbelief than amusement.

But it was sound.

Urogi froze.

“What was that?”

She covered her mouth instinctively, as if she’d done something wrong.

“Nothing.”

His eyes lit up.

“No, do it again.”

“It wasn’t—”

“You made a noise. A different one.”

He dropped from the beam and crouched closer, eyes bright with sudden excitement.

“You didn’t smell like fear just then.”

She looked away.

“I’m delirious.”

He watched her face intensely.

Then, after a moment, he exaggerated his form dramatically, puffing out his chest.

“Oh, right. Of course. I forgot. I am terrifying and tragic and very cool.”

She snorted now.
A small, involuntary sound.

It slipped out before she could stop it.

There it was.
A real one.
Soft.
Brief.
But real.

Urogi went utterly still.
Then he grinned.
Wide.
Unfiltered.

“There it is!”

He pointed at her like she’d accomplished something monumental.
“You’re not so broken.”

He sounded genuinely pleased.

Relieved even.

She blinked at him.

“I was never—”

“You were,” he cut in casually. “After he was done.”

The bluntness made her flinch.
He noticed.

“You were quiet in the wrong way,” he added, more subdued. “Like when birds hit windows.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t want her broken?

He leaned back on his hands, wings relaxing behind him.

“I don’t like that kind of quiet,” he admitted.

It was as close to vulnerability as he would ever phrase it.

“Boring quiet is fine. Sleeping quiet is fine. But that one…” He shook his head. “No.”

She looked at him in bewilderment.

“You’re strange,” she managed to say. At least he was easier to talk to.

He beamed.

“I know.”

Another pause.
Then softer, almost offhand:

“I like it better when you look at me like you want to stab me.”

Her brows lifted at that admission.

“That’s the right kind of spirit.”

He leaned closer again, not invading this time, just near enough that she could see the flecks of lighter gold in his eyes.

“Keep that. Don’t let him take it.”

It wasn’t protective in a noble way.
It was selfish.
He wanted her to be somewhat herself.
Reactive.
Alive.

She didn’t realize she was smiling faintly until he pointed at her again.

“There! You’re doing it again.”

He laughed, giddy and almost boyish.
“See? I’m way more fun than him.”

Kaede said nothing at that, merely gave a little nod. It was odd feeling comfortable with him, but she did not disagree.

If she had been Sekido’s pet…

Ugh…

She inwardly shivered in horror. None of them probably survived long, she suspected. She was surprised Sekido had touched her at all. She thought he was only into men considering how often she had heard him and Karaku in the dead of night and during the day.

Being Karaku’s pet would have only been marginally better than Sekido’s. Kaede did not underestimate his capacity for violence of course, but if he intended to keep one alive she was certain he would avoid breaking bones.

Though he would have treated her like shit for sure.

Urogi when he took her from the home, left her naked in the basement mostly and would have his way with her three or four times a day depending on his mood.

Karaku himself too sometimes, but she was certain he would have coupled with far more degradation than what he put her through already had she officially been his. Thankfully she was not.

She forced it out of sight and out of mind.

That didn’t mean right now that she was entirely free from Urogi vices just because she was injured. He made her jerk him off, unwilling to leave her alone. She whimpered when he couldn’t take it anymore, opening her legs, mindful of her elevated ankle.

She knew she was injured down there from what Sekido had done. The doctor or whoever they had brought to treat her had left her nori and honey to put between her legs and keep them shut while she rested.

Kaede had grown use to Urogi, but after what Sekido put her through, she was absolutely terrified now, especially as Urogi started rubbing up his inhuman cock against her dry folds.

“M-master…” she whimpered, unsure why she did, knowing he usually ignored anything she said, gasps of pain or cries.

"Still sore, huh?" he murmured. Kaede bit her lip, unsure how to respond. She didn't want to show weakness, but the truth was, her body ached all over, and the dislocated ankle throbbed with each passing moment as did her ribs.

Urogi, sensing her hesitation, leaned closer, his golden eyes fixed on her face. With a gentle nudge, he encouraged her to recline back on the cushions and she did, in resignation, bracing herself for pain.
He hovered over a moment and then to her surprise, he lowered himself down, placing her other leg over his shoulder.

She gasped as he trailed little kisses up her thighs and then nuzzled his nose into the thick dark hair of her pubic bone.

His tongue, hot and slippery, grazed her skin, at the junction of her thigh sending a shockwave of sensation through her. Kaede's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Surprised he was doing this at all.

Karaku had once, but only to humiliate her.

She closed her eyes, flushing as his tongue danced along her folds, teasing and coaxing a response from her reluctant body.

As he licked and sucked, Kaede's hips involuntarily lifted, seeking more of his touch.

The pleasure built slowly, a gentle wave that crested and crashed over her, leaving her shivering and breathless.

She tried not to enjoy it. She really tried. But she had nothing else to focus on and she wanted a break from pain, no matter how sordid this was. Hadn’t she suffered enough?

His tongue flicked over her clitoris a few times, swirling around it, up and down, side to side. Before he took it into his mouth. She let out a moan, unconsciously squirming against him.

A few more flicks and sucks followed, bringing her to her peak.

She didn’t take long, it hit her—an intense, overwhelming orgasm that took her by surprise.

Her body arched, a silent cry escaping her lips. Urogi's tongue worked her with renewed persistence, drawing out every shudder and moan, until she felt something hot gush out.

He licked her through, long laps, dipping his tongue into her hole to taste everything she gave him before stroking up and down and nibbling at her swollen glistening folds.

He looked up at her with a grin grabbing a near by sheet to wipe his face.

“Wasn’t expecting you to squirt like that! Kweh! That was hot! I don't think i have had a pet do that before.”

Kaede barely heard him, trying to calm down, the orgasm having made her ribs ache every time she took a breath.

She had never done that before and felt deeply ashamed at what had just transpired.

Urogi rubbed her thighs to help ease the twitching muscle there and kissed the inside of one a few times.

“See? It’s so much easier when you relax.”

And so began her somewhat better treatment. Clothed at least, a futon in her room and a few trinkets.

It was boring most of the day, but Aizetsu eventually carried her outside to sit on the engewa at night and she did basic chores for them such as laundering and sewing keeping her ankle elevated on a cushion as she worked.

Once she could somewhat get around on one leg, she was expected to start cleaning up after some of their meals. It was only because she was a kakushi and slayer that she was able to do it. Use to gore and messes and the stench of death. She refused to think of their victims as people. It was too painful otherwise.

Hours passed from her rocking and she eventually dozed off, not even realising until she felt someone touch her shoulder.

“Hey little dove…rise and shine…well night time for demons as you know.”

She blinked, her eyes blurry for a moment.

Urogi grinned at her and held out a bundle in his arms.

“Like I promised, let’s go flying. It’s cold up in the air so you will want to dress warmly.”

The bundle was layered, thicker fabric than she expected. A green haori. A white scarf. Something almost thoughtful in the way it had been folded.

She hesitated only a second before taking it.

“You’ll freeze and then you’ll complain,” he added dismissively. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

She wouldn’t complain, she knew better.

The haori was oversized and had a familiar scent that made her feel queasy. It was most likely Karaku’s.

Once dressed, she followed him outside.

Weeks ago, she would have trembled.
Now her pulse only quickened.

He stepped behind her, arms sliding around her waist.

“Hold properly,” he instructed.

She tightened her grip instinctively.

He launched.

The ground dropped away.

Her breath caught , not in panic this time, but in anticipation.

Wind rushed past them, cool and pleasant. Not like the biting cold that first time he snatched her into the air.

His body was solid behind her, wings beating with that loud flutter as they flew up. Not playful tosses. Not playful drops.

Just flight.

The village lights below became scattered constellations. Fields stretched like dark silk. Rivers reflected the moon in broken silver lines.
She forced herself to breathe.
To look.
To see.
It was beautiful.

She hated that it was beautiful.

He dipped slightly, then rose again, adjusting to her weight as if it were natural now.

“You’re not screaming,” he observed.

“I’m not dangling upside down.”

He laughed.

“True.”

They flew in companionable silence for a while. The wind swallowed most smaller sounds, but his voice carried close to her ear.

“You’re calmer.”

“I learned,” she replied.

“To trust me?” he said with a little chuckle.

She didn’t answer that.

Instead, she asked quietly, “Do you fly over Japan often?”

He nuzzled his chin against the top of her hair.

“Of course. Where else would I fly?”

“I mean… everywhere?”

A pause.

Then a grin she could hear in his voice.

“Ohhh. You want stories.”

She kept her eyes forward.

“I’ve seen cities burning,” he began fondly. “Villages wiped clean. Mountains so quiet even demons don’t bother climbing them. Snow that looks like pearl under moonlight.”

He adjusted their angle, banking toward a distant ridge.

“I’ve watched trains cut through valleys like metal snakes. Watched ships try to outrun storms. Watched slayers train until their lungs give out.”

A softer note crept in.

“I’ve seen sunrise from above the clouds.”

Her breath stilled.

“You don’t burn up there?” she asked.

He snorted.

“I’m not stupid.”

“But you’ve seen it.”

“From the edge, can’t watch the whole thing.”

A pause.

“It’s ugly.” He didn’t sound so sure.

She smiled sadly.

“I doubt that.”

He hummed, considering.

“I’ve seen cities growing bigger,” he continued. “More lights every year. Humans spreading like ants. I’ve seen battlefields before the fighting starts. You can smell it in the air.”

His arms tightened fractionally around her as they climbed higher.

“I’ve seen slayers cry when they think no one’s watching.”

She swallowed.

“And demons?”

He laughed softly.

“Demons don’t cry.”

A pause.

“Usually.”

Wind whipped her hair back. The world felt endless from here.

For a moment, just a moment, she let herself lean into it.
Into the height.
Into the illusion.

If she didn’t think about claws or threats or Sekido’s rage.
If she didn’t think about the constant rapes.

If she didn’t think about the Corps.

If she didn’t think about what she’d lost.

It almost felt like freedom.

Stilll....

She imagined loosening her grip.

Letting go.

Letting the wind take her somewhere he wouldn’t follow.
But she knew better.

He would follow.

He remembered scents.
And promises.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” he said suddenly.

She stiffened.

“Am I?”

“Mhm.”

He dipped sharply, then leveled out again, playful but controlled.

“You always go quiet when you’re imagining running.”

Her throat tightened.

“And if I was?”

His grip adjusted to hold her a little firmer.

“Then I’d catch you.”

Moments passed.
She nodded slowly.

He relaxed again a minute later, as if the tension had never existed.

“Next time I’ll show you the coast,” he said brightly, changing the topic. “Waves look funny from high up. Like they’re chasing the land.”

She forced herself to focus on that.

On the sea.
On mountains.
On lights.

On everything except the invisible tether binding her to him in the sky.

For a fleeting, dangerous moment —

She almost forgot she was a prisoner at all.

He took her to a cliff side that overlooked a large lake. There looked to be a city there. From what she surmised these clones lived somewhere to the North, though they didn’t exactly tell her where.

The moon was on the wane, but it loomed up there in its half crescent, luminescent and beautiful. Briefly she wondered how many other women Urogi had dragged around for his flights.

“Um…Urogi-sama….”

“Urogi is just fine.” He said, perching comfortably next to her. She wasn’t sure what this was all about, but if he was feeling generous, she would take what she could get.

“May I ask…how old you are?” She hoped he wouldn’t mind the question. She didn’t really care how old he was, it was just something to talk about. Months around Karaku made it clear he liked talking about himself and the sound of his own voice. Perhaps Urogi was similar in his vices.

“I think over 200 years old? Almost 300 if we count Hantengu when we were one with him as humans. We made it to our late eighties back then. So something like 290 or more years old?”
Kaede swallowed thickly. Urogi certainly didn’t act with the knowledge or wisdom of a being that was hundreds of years old, but she knew by no means was he stupid.

“Wow…I guess you have seen empires rise and fall.”

“Heh yeah you could say that! It has certainly been an interesting time and now we get to see Japan westernize and modernize.”

He rocked slightly where he perched, wings settling with a soft rustle. For a moment he just stared out at the dark stretch of trees like he was watching something only he could see.

Then his head turned toward her.

“So,” he said brightly, as if it had just occurred to him, “what’s your name?”

Kaede blinked.

Of all the questions, that one caught her off guard.

“My…name?” she repeated, careful.

He grinned, chin propped on his hand. “Yeah. Your name.”

She hesitated, then let out a small, tired breath.

“What’s the point?” she asked quietly. “You call me pet.”

He chortled in amusement.

“Mm, I do,” he agreed, like that was a compliment. “But I can call my pretty pet by her name too.”

There was a sing-song lilt to it, flirtatious in the careless way only Urogi could manage, like he was delighted by his own cleverness.

“It’s not like I’m asking because I’m polite,” he added. “I just…feel like knowing it.”

Her throat tightened.

A real name was a hook.
A real name was something he could keep.
So she gave him something else.

“…Tsubame,” she said.

His grin widened instantly.
Then he laughed, loud enough it startled a few sleeping birds from the branches below.

“I knew it!” he crowed, pointing at her like he’d won a game. “I was right on the money!”
She frowned faintly. “About what?”

“My nickname.” His wings fluttered in delighted emphasis. “Little swallow!”

She merely nodded. Tsubame was one of the code names. Most of the Kakushi used bird names.

He repeated it, tasting it like it pleased him.

“Tsubame…Tsubame…” He hummed, eyes bright. “See? Perfect.”

He leaned back again, looking entirely satisfied with himself.

“I’m good at naming things,” he announced.

She forced her face to stay neutral.

Inside, her stomach knotted.

Because she had lied, and he had believed it so easily.

Well she supposed she could work with that.

His wing came to her side and hugged her close. She leaned into the warmth rather than flinch or freeze awkwardly. Perhaps she was getting use to him.

“Sekido hates this era,” he muttered suddenly.

She blinked. “Westernization?”

“Mhm.” He flicked a feather irritably. “Too loud. Too fast. Too much change.”

“And you don’t?”

He huffed. “Change is fun. Humans panic. That’s entertaining.”

She glanced at him.

“You sound…different from him, “ she said weakly.

“Of course I do,” he scoffed. “He’s always angry about something.”

A small pause.

“He thinks everything has to mean something.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“He gets worked up over honor, insult, order, hierarchy,” Urogi continued, rolling his eyes. “Very exhausting.”

“You’re… not loyal to him?” she asked carefully.

That was dangerous territory and she regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth.

Thankfully he did not appear angry.

His mouth twitched.

“Loyal?”

A small grin curved his mouth.

“We are the same person.”

“Yes, but—”

“But I don’t have to like everything he does,” he interrupted with a shrug.

That surprised her.
She had expected immediate defense.
Immediate justification.

Instead, he leaned back on his palms and looked up at the thinning moon.

“He ruins things,” Urogi added after a moment.
“Ruins?”

“Mhm.” He shrugged. “He takes fun things and makes them serious.”

There was no contempt or hatred when he spoke of him.

Just mild irritation.

“You’re not supposed to break toys right away,” he said casually. “You play with them.”
She went still.
He noticed.

“Relax,” he added with a quick grin. “You’re not that fragile.”

She wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be comforting so she forced down her rage and forced her eyes not to water with how this demon was making light of her brutal assault.

They don’t have empathy....

“Were you um…annoyed,” she said slowly. “After…”

He didn’t look at her.

“He left you messy,” Urogi replied flatly. “That annoyed me.”

“Because…?”

Now he glanced sideways at her. Kaede wondered if she had overstepped.

“Because it wasn’t interesting.”

A pause.

“And because I don't like my pets broken so easily.”

There it was.
Not morality.
Not outrage.
Territory.

She didn’t think Sekido needed to ask for anything. It was evident he was the leader of the clones and controlled them all. He was particularly nasty to Aizetsu too.

But since Urogi was talking, it seemed safe to ask a few questions, if only to better understand their dynamic.

“You really don’t agree with him much, do you?”

He barked a laugh.

“Oh I agree with him all the time.”

Her brows lifted.

“But agreeing doesn’t mean I like it.”

He leaned in again, giving a playful nip to her ear.

“You humans think unity means identical.”

A feather brushed her sleeve as he moved. She held it between her fingers contemplating its sheen.

“It doesn’t.”

That lingered between them.

For a moment he wasn’t grinning.
Wasn’t teasing.
Just matter-of-fact.

She found herself oddly bothered. She had assumed instinctive solidarity between them.
Shared depravity.
Shared purpose.

Instead there were fractures.
Preferences.
Petty differences.

It made them feel… less mythic.
More complicated.

“You thought I’d defend him?” he asked suddenly.

She hesitated.

“…Yes.”

He laughed softly.

“You’re cute when you’re wrong.”

The grin returned.
Bright.
Windy.
Restless.

“But don’t misunderstand,” he added, tapping her knee lightly. “If you try to use that against him, I’ll drop you.”

Light tone.
Hard truth.

She believed him and she wasn’t that stupid. Sekido would probably kill her if she tried to use the fact Urogi liked her to stop his hand. It wouldn’t work of course and she didn’t think she had the skills in her to find some way to fracture their unity.

He stretched his wings again.

“Still,” he muttered, almost to himself, “he could stand to loosen up.”
She stared at him, genuinely surprised.
“You think that?”

“Obviously.” He flashed teeth. “Life’s more fun when you’re not clenched all the time.”

And just like that, the conversation drifted back toward his usual irreverence.

The flight back was mostly quiet, but he promised to take her on some fun sky dives or even show her how he dived in the water and would hunt her some fish.

Kaede simply nodded enthusiastically, not so much because she cared about seeing his abilities and more because she wanted to be outdoors more.

There was also something else blooming. Something like hope. Seeing the town had brought it back from the depths of her mind. Being outside in the air had allowed it to surface.

The possibility of escaping again. Somehow. She was a kakushi. Whatever Urogi said about scent, she knew how to hide it if she could obtain some wisteria. She knew how to keep herself safe at night and hide from them too, digging holes under logs and hiding herself amongst moss, dirt and leaves until sunrise.

She knew how to navigate terrain and navigate by stars. She survived final selection after all. She had survived years as kakushi learning routes and carving them out to deliver messages between Hashira and wisteria houses and important bases owned by the Corp.

Her skills had always been in strategic planning rather than the sword so why not put them to good use? Why give up? She was alive so far. She had endured.

He’s not stupid she reminded herself.

As they landed in the courtyard of the estate the clones had taken over, Kaede considered things she had learned from the survivors of demons. The few who made it out alive.
Not the fighters.
The regular women stolen from their homes for a demon’s amusement.

The ones who endured.

She had carried messages for women who had escaped them, hidden from their obsession, fled lairs where they had been confined. Demons did frequently take women as their concubines after all.

There were patterns.

Men did not relax when challenged.

They relaxed when admired.
When obeyed.
When fed small pieces of ego.

When they believed control was unquestioned.

Urogi was not stupid
But he was a male.

He liked praise.
He liked reaction.
He liked feeling chosen.

She had already seen it… how his eyes brightened when she laughed. How he grew restless when she went quiet. How he preened when she agreed with him.

He was easiest when entertained.

And when flattered.

She remembered one woman in particular, a woman who had survived ten years under the volatile lower moon two by learning the rhythm of his temper. She was freed when the flame Hashira had ended his life. She had told Kaede quietly:
“You don’t fight a storm head on. You lean with it. You let it think it’s winning and that you have accepted.”

Kaede had not understood it then.
She did now.

If she resisted openly, Sekido would break her.

If she remained distant, Urogi would grow bored.

But if she leaned closer—
If she made him feel chosen—
If she let him think she preferred him—
He might grow complacent.
He might grow protective.

He might loosen his guard.

And males, when they believe they are loved, could soften.

Even monsters.

She stepped lightly beside him as they crossed the courtyard.

“You really have seen so much,” she said quietly, letting forced admiration slip into her tone.

It was not entirely false.
He glanced at her, pleased.

“Of course I have.”

She smiled. Again forced, but she had to give him something.

“I’m glad you showed me.”

There.
Subtle reinforcement.
Reward.

His wings lifted slightly at that.

She catalogued the reaction.
He always expressed his emotions with his wings.

She recalled the words of the survivors.

Find what makes men feel powerful.

Feed it.
Let them think they are the center of the choice.

And give small favors before they are demanded.

Perhaps it was time to stop feeling sorry for herself.

He took her to his room this time rather than the basement assigned to her.

She was still very much recovering, but was going to force herself to participate a little more. Let her believe she liked him. Be sexually available. That's what the women who survived all said. Sometimes it saved them from the more volatile forms of violence.

Just not too much too soon. He clearly had pets before and without a doubt the women before her would have tried similar.

He pulled her close, giving her flighty little kisses.

She told herself she would not repeat the mistakes of others blindly.

“Heh… flying always works wonders,” he said smugly. “Makes the pets so happy. Fresh air, pretty views, wind in their hair. They get all soft afterwards.”
His wings fluttered lightly, pleased with himself.

“Karaku gets jealous sometimes when I take his pets flying or keep them company.”

Kaede blinked at that in genuine surprise.

“Karaku jealous? Why?”

Urogi laughed under his breath.

“Because they preferred my company,” he said easily. “I’m more fun.”

He leaned back just enough to see her face.

“Same with Sekido’s pets. Though he rarely keeps one long.” He clicked his tongue. “He treats them like shit. Too serious. Too angry. No wonder they look miserable.”

He shrugged as if this were simple math.

“Well… I am glad I am yours then,” Kaede said gently, letting her fingers rest briefly against his arm. “Flying seems like an extra perk.”

There.
Gratitude.
His grin widened immediately.

“See?” he said, delighted. “You get it.”

He nudged her playfully.

“Perks matter. If you’re going to be kept, might as well enjoy the benefits.”

The word kept sat heavy in the air.
She did not flinch.
Instead she let out a soft laugh.

“You do make it sound like a promotion.”

That pleased him even more.

“It is,” he declared proudly. “Basement’s boring. My room has better views.”

He nibbed her ear.

“And I don’t leave mine unattended.”

There was possession there. Clear. Undeniable.

But also preference.
She filed that away carefully.

“Well,” she said, tilting her head just enough to brush her cheek near his jaw, “I suppose I should make sure you don’t regret the upgrade.”

He smirked at her perversely and scooped her up, which she didn’t mind. Her ankle still hurt after all. Total concentration breathing had its limits and she had never developed the skills for total concentration constant.

Most slayers deployed on the field did not. It was extra training they could pursue if they wished. Kaede lacked the fortitude and strength so she would still heal in weeks rather than days.

He set her down on the futon and was on top of her almost immediately. Kaede looked up at him, a faint blush on her cheeks, but inwardly she just hoped he wouldn’t be too rough with her. He had kept his distance, well in terms of being inside her for a few weeks. Her reprieve was over it seemed.

Urogi leaned down, capturing her lips in a surprising gentle kiss, his mouth hot and insistent, tongue slipping past her teeth to taste her deeply. Kaede sighed into it, her hands tentatively rising to his shoulders, fingers brushing the rough texture of his feathers. Normally she would just lay there and let him or Karaku have their way unless they forced her to do something in particular.

He broke the kiss slowly, trailing his lips down her neck, nipping lightly at her collarbone before moving lower. His talons carefully parted the fabric of her yukata, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Kaede felt her nipples hardened instantly. She usually didn’t like it when he did this as he would often be careless, just diving in like an animal. Sucking them raw at one point, but she supposed tonight he decided to be different.

He lowered his head, taking one peak into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escaped Kaede's throat, her body arching toward him despite the lingering ache in her ankle.

His suckling grew more insistent, coupled with some flicks, his teeth grazing just enough to send sparks of pleasure-through her.

He lavished attention on her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth, humming against her skin. His free hand cupped her other breast, thumb rolling the nipple in firm circles, kneading the soft flesh with a care that belied his demonic nature. It was the strangest thing. Despite how sharp his talons were, he had never actually scratched her skin with them,

Kaede's breath hitched, emotions swirling—relief for his gentleness mixed with the ever-present undercurrent of her captivity, the power he held over her life.

He began to rub himself up against her now. His cock, thick and rigid, nudged against her thigh, already leaking precum that smeared warm and sticky on her skin. Kaede braced herself, her hands pressing against his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his demonic heart—or whatever passed for one.

Her body still ached in places, a dull reminder of her injuries, but Urogi's weight was distributed carefully, his hips settling between her legs without crushing her ankle. He kissed her again, slower this time, his tongue exploring her mouth in a way that her head spin. It was so much easier now that she didn’t feel so disgusted.

One talon traced her side, dipping to her hip, then lower, parting her thighs wider. Kaede gasped into his mouth as his now shape shifted hand touched her, slipping his fingers in and then sliding through her folds in gentle stokes.

"My little swallow," he murmured against her lips, voice husky with need. "You're so wet for me already Hmm..you like that huh?"

Kaede felt her face grow hot. The way he said it was different to what she normally got. Taunts. Or mocks from Karaku. She resented how her body responded, betraying her slayer's pride, but the weeks of his sweetness had worn down her resistance. "More….please," she whispered, not sure if it was a plea to stop or continue.

He chuckled, low and throaty, positioning himself at her entrance. The head of his cock pressed against her, stretching her as he pushed in slowly. Inch by inch, he filled her, the burn of the intrusion making her toes curl. Urogi groaned, burying his face in her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he bottomed out, but waiting until she adjusted.

He had never done that before and Kaede found herself wrapping her arms and legs around him.

He began to move, slow and deep, but gentle as if he was…mindful of her condition. His hips rolled in a way that oddly hit every sensitive spot inside her. Kaede's nails dug into his back, a whimper escaping as pain from her ribs twinged, but the pleasure overshadowed it, building like a tide. Urogi's hand slipped between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing in firm circles.

"That's it, take me," he growled softly, "Feel how you squeeze me, little bird? You're mine now, all mine."

Kaede's mind reeled, emotions crashing—fear of his moods, the humiliation she had endured and an unwanted spark of intimacy from his care. But she forced herself into the feeling, hips rising to meet his thrusts, the wet sounds of their fucking filling the room, mingled with her soft moans and his demon like grunts. Sweat slicked their skin, his wings twitching with each deep plunge, feathers brushing her sides like a teasing caress.

He captured her mouth again, swallowing her cries, his pace unchanging, slow, torturously deep, drawing out every sensation.

His thumb pressed harder against her clit, rubbing furiously now, the rough pad of his digit circling the swollen nub with increased pressure. Kaede's body jerked beneath him, letting herself lose control. She gasped, her hands fisting the futon linens, the ache in her ribs a distant throb compared to the building fire between her legs. His thrusts remained deep while the furious assault on her clit pushed her closer to her peak.

Humiliation still burned through despite the feeling, mingling with the unwanted rush of arousal. She was a demon slayer, trained to fight monsters like him, yet here she was, spread open and begging with her body. Her pride screamed in protest, but her hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the friction of his thumb. The wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out grew louder. The sounds coming out of her, sordid and lewd. Nothing like the whimpers and cries of pain she usually gave him.

Urogi's free hand pinned her hip, holding her steady as he ground his thumb harder, pinching her clit lightly between rubs. Kaede's breath came in ragged pants, her thighs trembling around him. The pressure built unbearably and then it happened again. Hot fluid gushing out soaking the sheets beneath them. The release left her shaking, tears pricking her eyes from the intensity and she found herself more even upset she had done this for a demon...again.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Urogi cooed softly, as he watched her squirt, the mess spreading hot and slick between them. "Look at you, my sweet pet, making such a beautiful mess for me. So submissive, so perfect. Your little cunt's claiming me, isn't it? Squirting like a good girl because you know you belong to me now."

His sordid praise washed over her, twisting the knife of humiliation deeper even as it soothed some fractured part of her soul. Kaede whimpered, overwhelmed, her face flushing with shame, but to him she just looked flustered.

Regardless, she felt exposed, reduced to this—his plaything, but she told herself this had to be done if she ever had the opportunity to leave him.

Urogi didn't slow. Instead, he increased his speed, snapping his hips in short fast bursts. He returned to that more animal side of his, flapping his wings a little, squawking with his building urgency. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin panting with him.

"Mine," he growled, voice rough with need. "This body, all fucking mine. Feel how hard you make me, little bird? Gonna fill you up, mark you inside and out."

Kaedu could only gasp in response, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

His cock throbbed inside her, swelling thicker, and she knew he was close. The room filled with the obscene slap of flesh, her moans mingling with his grunts, sweat dripping from his brow onto her chest.

With a final thrust, Urogi pulled out, his cock pulsing as he came hot and thick. Ropes of his cum spilled across Kaede's exposed stomach, painting her skin in sticky white streaks that cooled quickly in the air.

He groaned low, milking every drop onto her, his hand stroking his length to spread it over her navel and lower belly. Kaede lay there, panting, feeling the warmth of his seed on her bare skin.

Urogi leaned down, nuzzling her neck with a satisfied trill, his breath hot against her damp skin. "Good girl," he whispered, fingers tracing lazy patterns in his cum on her stomach. "You took that so well. My perfect little pet."

Kaede turned her head away, not sure what to say. But even in the haze, she felt his hand gentle on her hair, stroking softly, and a traitorous part of her leaned into it, allowing the twisted comfort he offered.

After that night, things were marginally better. Urogi would bring her pretty things. Kanzashi pins, brooches, even a necklace. She tried not to dwell on the fact these items probably came from women he had killed and eaten.

He actually took her out flying with him more often and she mapped the terrain, already figuring out a pathway to get to the town. It was near Morioka she had figured.

All she needed to do was get there and hop on a train. She knew how to hide her scent and throw him off. She had seen Karaku and Sekido with plenty of money around too. Probably taken from their various victims, but they did have to pay for things like normal people when they posed as humans.

She didn’t mind robbing them. They were both assholes. Kaede hoped she could try and set their rooms on fire before she left, if she could pull it off. Bet they had never had a pet do that before.

The thought made her pause. Huh. It was like her old snarky self was coming back.

One day, Urogi was fastening a new little necklace he had gotten for her, the pendant was a little blue bird.

“You look expensive,” he had said, pleased.

She had smiled in response, because that was what he liked.

Karaku, however, couldn’t help himself.

“Oh?” Karaku drawled one evening as she passed through the corridor, the necklace visible above her collar. “Our little bird is being decorated now?”

His eyes slid over her with open appraisal.

“How generous of you, Urogi. You usually get bored before you start accessorizing.”

Urogi bristled, eyes narrowing at his counterpart.

“She’s not boring.”

Karaku laughed softly.

“They’re never boring at first.”

His gaze returned to her, mocking and invasive.
“You look healthier,” he added. “He must be feeding you well.”

The implication lingered unpleasantly.

Kaede forced herself to keep relaxed.

“He is, ”she replied evenly.

He hunted food for her himself now. Quite often. Skinned and prepared it for her. Rabbits, various fish, even a deer once.

Karaku’s smile widened.

“Oh I’m he is.”

He stepped closer, just enough to invade her space without touching.

“Careful,” he said with that usual shit eating grin of his. “He gets attached to pretty things.”

Urogi’s wings flicked behind him.

“She’s fine.”

Karaku hummed.
“I’m sure she is. They always are. Until they aren’t.”

His eyes lingered on her throat.

“You’re enjoying the perks, I hope? Flying, gifts, better quarters?”

Kaede met his gaze without emotion, which surprised even herself as she usually involuntarily hunched up when he was around.

“It’s an improvement over the basement,” she said quietly.

Karaku chuckled.

“Well, listen to that. She has opinions now.”

He looked delighted by it.

“Don’t get too comfortable, little bird. Pets that start thinking too much usually end up…” He gestured vaguely downward.

Urogi cut in with irritation.

“She’s not yours.”

Karaku blinked for a moment and then smirked.

“Oh, I know. You got a bit territorial. I’m just curious how long she’ll stay yours.”

That landed heavier than it should have.
Kaede said nothing.
Karaku was watching.
Testing.

Trying to bother her. Or perhaps bother Urogi.

He did it often after that.

Small comments in passing:

“Don’t look so proud. You’re still leashed.”

“Careful, Urogi. She’s got clever eyes. The clever ones are always trouble.”

“You’re mapping things in your head, aren’t you?”

That one had nearly made her freeze.

But she cleared her throat, sounding nonchalant.

“I was a kakushi. It’s habit.”

He patted her head like she was a dog.

He wasn’t angry like Sekido.
He was entertained.

Still, she endured it.
Let him smirk.
Let him taunt.

Because every time Karaku made a jab, Urogi would edge closer to her side.

Subtly.
Claiming.
And every time Urogi defended her, even casually, the tether tightened.
Good.
She needed him to be complacent.

It didn’t make the sexual demands any easier, especially when Karaku wanted access, but she noticed Karaku visiting her was less frequently or more often, Urogi strategically took her out most of the time or made Aizetsu take her with him when he went on one of his nightly walks to a clearing in order to train. Mostly when he couldn't watch her for some reason or when he wanted to have his way with her outside and call her "mate."

She sat on a rock watching as Aizetsu did some basic moves with his yari. Most of the time she noticed Aizetsu left the house at night, if he could, when Karaku and Sekido were together. The two of them were loud and certainly didn’t care about what their counterparts heard. She didn’t know how he coped with it in the day when the two of them were trying to kill time. She could barely handled and never got use to the fact two demon males were engaging in blatant rough sordid sex for the whole house to hear.

It made their main body run into corners and put his hands over his ears and rock and cry. Sometimes they made him watch.

Kaede wasn’t entirely sure, but she suspected there was something going on between the three of them minus Urogi. Aizetsu always looked at Sekido with a kind of odd longing. Which was saying something because Sekido treated Aizetsu with open contempt. Constantly insulting him at every opportunity.

She had seen it more times than she could count.

It usually began small.
Aizetsu offering an insightful suggestion during one of their discussions.
A correction.
A refinement.

Sekido’s lip would curl immediately.

“Did I ask for your input?”

Aizetsu would fall silent at once. Neither defensive or angry.

Just… withdrawing.

There had been one evening in particular.

Karaku had been lounging near the hearth, amused as always, and Urogi had been grooming her hair while she sat in his lap. The four of them had been discussing something trivial — how best to handle a slayer patrol near the outskirts of the next town as they kept returning like cockroaches.

Aizetsu had spoken carefully.

“If we draw them toward the riverbank instead of the forest, it would limit their manoeuvrability.”

It had been logical.

Sekido had not even looked at him at first.

“You assume they think like you,” he said coldly.

Aizetsu inclined his head. “Strategy is universal.”

Sekido turned then.

“Your strategy is hesitation dressed as wisdom.”

Karaku had snorted softly at that.

Aizetsu didn’t respond.

Sekido picked up his cup.

It had been filled with blood — dark, metallic, still warm.

“You refine,” Sekido continued with a sneer. “You temper. You soften.”

Then without warning he flung the contents across Aizetsu’s face.

The liquid splattered across his cheek, soaked into his hair, dripped from his chin onto the tatami.

Karaku had laughed outright.

Urogi had merely rolled his eyes.

“Pathetic,” Sekido said, setting the empty cup aside. “If you want to behave like a servant, do it properly.”

Aizetsu had stood there, eyes lowered, crimson streaking down his jaw.

He hadn’t wiped it away immediately.
Hadn’t retaliated.
Hadn’t even flinched.

Only after a moment had he reached up and brushed it from his skin.

“Yes,” he had answered quietly.

Just yes.

Kaede remained quiet, invisible as she was meant to be.

She remembered the way Aizetsu’s gaze had flicked to Sekido when he thought no one noticed.

Surprisingly not in anger or hatred.
Something far worse.

Hope.

As if enduring it might earn something.

Approval.
Acknowledgment.
Anything.

There had been other moments.

Sekido criticized the way Aizetsu held his yari.

Calling him sentimental.
Calling him weak.
Telling him he thought like a human.

“You’re defective,” Sekido had said once, not even heated. “You dilute the whole.”

Aizetsu had bowed his head at that.
“I will improve.”

Always that answer.
Never protest.

Kaede wondered if he use to protest before and now no longer bothered.

“Um…Aizetsu-sama….”

He spun his yari and pointedly looked at her. He had never harmed her, but he was still intimidating to be around.

“Um may I go get fish from the river just there. If it doesn’t bother you?”

Urogi was out on a mission and no one had bothered to feed her today.

Aizetsu regarded her for several tense seconds before gesturing for her to go.

“Do not wander beyond the bend,” he said simply.

“Yes, Aizetsu-sama.”

She moved toward the river without rushing. The water ran clear and cold over smooth stones, shallow enough to wade carefully without disturbing too much sediment.

She found a fallen branch near the bank and tested its weight.

Too soft.

She discarded it and searched again, selecting one straighter and sturdier. Using a sharp stone, she shaved the end down, splitting it into a crude fork. It wasn’t elegant, but it would hold.
Aizetsu watched from the clearing.

She stepped into the water slowly, placing her feet deliberately between stones to avoid splashing. The current tugged lightly at her yukata hem.

Wait.
Observe.

Fish moved in patterns. They rested behind rocks where the current broke. Darted forward to snap at drifting insects.

She lowered the forked stick beneath the surface, adjusting for refraction even at night, the way she had been taught during final selection drills.

The first strike missed.
She didn’t curse.
Just repositioned.

On the second attempt, the forked end caught a flash of silver against stone.

She pressed down hard, pinning it before lifting it free.

The fish thrashed briefly before going still.

Aizetsu approached only after she had secured two more.

“You compensate for the distortion of water,” he observed quietly.

She glanced up.

“It bends light.”

“Yes.”

He watched her hands as she secured the last catch.

“You were not exaggerating about your training.”

It was not effusive praise.
But it was acknowledgment.

She stepped back onto the bank, water dripping from her hem.

“I was more useful running than fighting,” she said.

“Utility is not lesser,” he replied.

That surprised her.

She met his gaze briefly.

“You do not seem surprised that I know how to survive.”

“You survived the Corp,” he said simply. “And captivity.”

He crouched and examined the crude spear.

“You adapt quickly.”

“I don’t like being hungry.”

A small changed crossed his expression, almost humor.

“That is sensible.”
He rose again.

“You should eat before Urogi returns. He will complain if you look weaker.”

There it was again.
Not protectiveness.
Practical awareness of dynamics.

She nodded.

He actually helped build the fire to roast them and they sat in companionable silence. She didn’t try and make small talk with him, too unsure of his nature to say anything.

Aizetsu seemed the least volatile out of the lot of them, but she knew appearances could be deceiving. Urogi had mentioned that as much as he liked Aizetsu, he took his misery out on his prey sometimes, prolonging their deaths where he could. Even hung a guy up still alive by his intestines once and just watched him twitch.

She tried not to shudder at that revelation.

Kaede ate quietly.

“You should leave you know. I won’t stop you.”

Kaede paused in surprise and suddenly found herself on alert. What?

Was this a game?

“No, I won’t kill you if you run. But you should. Morioka is in that direction, but in my opinion you should head to Sendai first.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You’re counterparts will be…upset.”

“You’re just a pet. The other two won’t care. Urogi will blame Karaku as he's supposed to be watching. Maybe he will search for you, but then get over it. If you are smart enough to stay hidden.”

Kaede studied him carefully.

“You say that very easily.”

“It is not complicated,” Aizetsu replied.

His eyes moved briefly toward the direction of the house.

“They are occupied.”

“With each other,” she said.

He did not confirm it.

“You aren’t worried?” she pressed.

“About what?”

“Your counterparts.”

His expression remained unreadable.

“They make their own choices.”

“And if they blame you?”

“They already do.”

That was said without bitterness.
Just fact.

A thought began to form in her mind.

This wasn’t kindness.
This wasn’t mercy.
This was something else.

Aizetsu had endured Sekido’s contempt for decades. Probably as long as his existence if she had to guess. Karaku’s jeers too. Their shared indulgences that excluded him. Forever outside Sekido's approval.
Letting her go would not just inconvenience them.
It would irritate Karaku.
It would provoke Urogi.
It would upset the dynamic.
Petty.
Quiet.
Almost surgical.

“You would let me run,” she said slowly, “knowing it would upset them.”

A brief pause.

“If you leave successfully, it would prove they were careless.”

Or you....

There it was.
Not rescue.
Leverage.

If she slipped through their fingers—
That would sting.

“It would not benefit you,” she said.

“Benefit is relative.”

He turned his yari slightly in his hand.

“You overestimate your importance.”

That stung.

“You offered.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Aizetsu regarded her coolly.

“Because watching Karaku and Urogi fight is worth it.”
Ah.
There it was.

“And Urogi afterwards?” she asked.

“He will be sad.”

“You don’t mind?”

A flicker, something unreadable, passed through his eyes.

“He will recover.”

That answer carried something she couldn’t quite define.

Resignation.
Or calculation.

“And if I fail?” she asked.

“Then you will not trouble any of us again. You will regret the day you were born once he finds you.”

The bluntness knocked the air from her lungs.

No reassurance.
No contingency.

If she ran and failed, she died. Or something far worse than death awaited her.

And Aizetsu would not intervene.
.
She realized then, this was not a gift.

It was an opportunity he did not particularly care about the outcome of and was really just being petty. Against his counterparts.

“You’re offering this to inconvenience them,” she said quietly.

He did not deny it.

“You are an irritant,” he replied. “To different degrees.”

She almost laughed at that.

“I see.”

He gestured toward the darkness.

“Leave now, and you leave before Urogi returns.”

The window was real.
So was the risk.

She imagined Karaku being throttled when Urogi learned of her escape.

Imagined Urogi’s search.
Then imagined being caught.

She wiped her mouth slowly.

“You won’t offer this again.”

“No.”

A simple answer.

She rose halfway, heart pounding.

Then sat back down.

“I won’t go.”

Aizetsu’s expression did not change.

“As expected.”

That irritated her.
The implication lingered.
He turned away, already dismissing the conversation.

“It is your loss,” he said simply.

Kaede silently prayed to the Gods, wondering if she was making a terrible mistake. No....she did not want to squander this opportunity. It was taking too long tryng to whore herself.

“You wouldn’t happen to have yen on you? I could steal it. But this would make it easier.”

Aizetsu was quiet for several moments, before sighing and pulling out a wad of notes.

Kaede took them from him gingerly.

“One chance.”

Kaede didn’t need to be told twice.

But she turned back to him for a moment.
“Thank you.”

He said nothing, merely watched her go.

Urogi would be upset. Extremely so. Perhaps he would catch her, perhaps he wouldn’t, but regardless this would fracture things between Karaku and Urogi. As Karaku technically was the one supposed to be watching her.

He stayed another few hours. Sunrise would be coming soon.

He made his way back home to Urogi who had returned, waiting on the engawa, carving something most likely for the girl, wood shavings scattered at his feet. He looked up as Aizetsu approached and raised his brow in confusion.

“Where is Tsubame?”

Aizetsu blinked once.

“How would I know?”

Urogi straightened slightly.

“She wasn’t with you?”

“No. I went straight to train once Nakime returned me from my mission. I only returned now and—”

The shift was immediate.
Urogi stood fully.

The carving knife snapped in his grip.

“…What?”

Aizetsu did not elaborate.

But the panic in his eyes was there.

“You’re joking.”

Silence.

Urogi’s gaze flicked toward the house.
Then the courtyard.
Then back to Aizetsu.

“You left her.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I never returned home until now. I told you I went to train. I assumed she was with Karaku. I never saw her,” Aizetsu replied blankly.
The air changed.

Urogi turned sharply toward the interior of the estate.

“KARAKU.”

The name cracked through the halls like thunder.

Karaku’s voice floated back lazily from one of the rooms.

“What?”

Urogi stormed inside.

Aizetsu followed behind looking as disinterested as he could.

Karaku was reclining comfortably, one arm propped beneath his head.

He smiled when he saw Urogi’s expression.

“Oh dear,” he murmured. “That look isn’t good.”

“Where is she?” Urogi demanded.

Karaku tilted his head.

“She was in the courtyard earlier.”

“Was.”

Karaku’s grinned.

Urogi’s eyes flashed.

“You were supposed to be watching her.”

Karaku laughed as if this was the most amusing thing he had seen all week.

Urogi’s claws dug in.

“She wouldn’t leave.”

Karaku’s grin turned wolfish.

“Wouldn’t she?”

The mockery hit its mark.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Karaku went on, honeyed and cruel. “You actually believed she liked you? Pets don’t "like" Urogi.”

That was it.

Urogi lost whatever control he had left.

“You fucking—”

He hurled Karaku across the room. The wall splintered as Karaku hit it. Before he could fully rise, Urogi was on him again, wings flaring violently, claws tearing into fabric and flesh without hesitation.
“You let her walk!” Urogi shrieked. “You stupid, smug bastard!”

Karaku blocked a strike and kicked him off, laughing breathlessly, deep gashes regenerating.

“ She probably went to go find a new dick to ride on and got bored with yours!”

Urogi lunged again, slamming him into the floorboards, talons scoring deep gouges through tatami and flesh alike.
.
“You think this is funny?!” he snarled, striking again.

Karaku spat blood and grinned up at him.

“Oh was the poor birdie in love? Your little swallow went to greener pastures haha.”

Urogi slammed his fist into Karaku’s head.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Karaku’s kicked him off and regenerated laughing.

Urogi lunged at him again, his snarl devolved into something closer to a scream, the two of fighting more like animals, snarling and ripping flesh.

Before the fight could escalate further—
The air changed.
Heavy.
Oppressive.

“Enough.”

Sekido’s voice cut through, angry enough that the house was being destroyed.

Neither stopped.
Urogi swung again.
Karaku retaliated.

Sekido moved.

In a single decisive motion, he seized them both.
The world seemed to compress.

Urogi felt it first , the pull. The drag inward.

Karaku cursed.

Sekido’s expression was one of pure contempt.

“You are both idiots.”

Their forms collapsed inward under his control.

Feathers folding. Flesh merging. Rage compressed into something denser.

For a split second, Urogi’s voice still echoed—
“I’ll fucking kill you—”
Then silence.

Sekido stood alone in the ruined room.

Dust drifted slowly downward.

He adjusted his sleeves.

“Pathetic.”

Aizetsu observed wordlessly, careful not to appear smug.

“Clean this up,” he barked to Aizetsu.

Aizetsu didn't even blink.

“No.”

............

“What did you say?”

Aizetsu walked away.

Sekido blinked, taking at least several moments to comprehend that his worthless clone had just backtalked him.

The room was still half-destroyed.

Wood splintered.
Tatami torn.

Feathers scattered. Blood splattered.

Aizetsu was already walking toward the corridor without hurry.

“Stop.”

Aizetsu did not.

The pause that followed was dangerous.

“You will clean this up,” Sekido repeated.

“No.”

The single syllable echoed more loudly than Urogi’s earlier shriek.
Sekido moved.
Fast.

He seized Aizetsu by the back of his collar and slammed him into the nearest pillar hard enough to fracture it further.

“You do not refuse me.”

Aizetsu did not retaliate.

“I decline.”

Sekido’s eye twitched.

“You decline?” He echoed in disbelief.

“I did not destroy it.”

Sekido’s grip tightened.

“We are not separate entities when it is convenient for you.”

Aizetsu’s expression remained composed.

“You absorbed them.”

“And?”
“You broke it.”

The air felt charged.

Sekido shoved him back hard.

“You think this is clever?”

“No.”

Another pause.

“Then what is it?”

Aizetsu met his gaze directly.
“I am not your servant.”

That was the fracture point.
Sekido’s eyes blazed red.

Aizetsu cocked his head to the side as Sekido’a fist hit the wall next him.

“You exist because I allow it.”

Aizetsu did not look away.

“We exist because you require us.”

The truth of that struck deeper than insult.

Sekido struck him across the face.

“You are weakness," he spat.

“Then remove me,” Aizetsu replied without emotion.

Sekido stepped forward again, fury rising visibly now.

“You think because I tolerate your hesitation that you are equal?”

“I do not require equality.”

“Then require obedience.”

Silence.
Aizetsu did not respond.
He did not bow.
He did not move to begin cleaning.

Sekido snarled and raised his fist.

This time Aizetsu did defend himself, raising his yari to intercept the strike. The impact splintered what remained of the shaft.

“You dare block me?”

“I will not be struck without cause, especially not by a demon who thinks more with his loins just like Karaku.”

That was the final insult.

Sekido attacked in earnest now. Furious assault.

“You are insubordinate trash!”

Blows reigned down on him, Aizetsu was able to block most of them, but Sekido managed to knock his legs out from under him and his fists slammed into his face.

“You worthless piece of shit! I’ll fucking end you. FUCK YOU!”

******************************************************************************************

It took her two days to get to the city. She bought some male clothes, bathed at a senta and shoved the clothes on, heavily perfuming them to hide her natural scent.

Kaede knew better than to rent an Inn, so she paid for a night at one of the whore houses. Surely they wouldn't expect her to go there.

There was a boat leaving at the crack of dawn from the mainland. Kaede covered her hair with a hat, keeping her hands in her pockets, head down. Thankfully most people ignored her and she stayed near the railing watching the docks.

It was just as the boat was leaving that she saw him, in the shadows as the sun was rising. Their eyes locked. Kaede breathed out.

He stood just beyond the reach of the light in his human form.

In a simple kimono. Almost ordinary. If she hadn’t known better, she might have mistaken him for any other young man who had wandered too close to the docks before dawn.

But she knew the set of his shoulders.
The dark waves of his hair.
The owlish way he watched.

The first rays of sunlight crept across the wooden planks between them.

He did not step forward.
Did not reach.
Did not launch himself into the air.
He simply stood there.

And she realized—
He could not follow.
Not now.

The boat lurched gently as ropes were cast off.
Voices called.
Wood creaked.

She did not look away.
He didn’t smile.

There was no warning curve to his mouth.

Only something heart breaking.

Something she had never seen on him before.

His eyes shone.

At first she thought it was only the light catching them.

But then she saw it.
A tear.

It traced slowly down his cheek, catching at his jaw before falling.

Urogi never cried.
Demons did not cry.

He lifted a hand as if to wipe it away, then stopped halfway, as though the motion required too much effort.

She felt something twist in her chest.
He wasn’t snarling.
Wasn’t angry.
Wasn’t raging.
He wasn’t even calling her name.

He was just… watching.

The sunlight crept closer.
He stepped back into deeper shadow, not from fear, from inevitability.

She knew she would have to get off the boat earlier. Exchange elsewhere. Change direction again before night fell to throw him off.

If he truly wanted to hunt her by nightfall, he could.

If he chose to.

But something about him told her he wouldn’t.

The boat drifted farther from the dock.

The distance widened.

She kept her eyes locked on him.

He did not move.

Another tear fell.

This one he did wipe away, almost angrily, as though ashamed of it.

For a moment, just a moment, she wondered if he would leap into the sea and chase the boat anyway.

He didn’t.

He stood there until the rising sun forced him farther back, until his outline blurred into the deepening shadows beneath the eaves of the dockside buildings.

Even then, she could feel him watching.
She did not wave.
She did not smile.

She simply held his gaze until the distance made it impossible.

Until he was only a dark shape against the dawn.
Until he was gone.
The wind tugged at her coat.
The mainland receded.

Kaede turned forward at last.

Her face wet not understanding why she felt so sad.

***************************************************************************************************
Kaede woke up gasping from her dream. Her heart pounding, covered in sweat.
It took several moments for her to come to.

She groaned as she wiped the sweat from her eyes and padded to the bathroom.

Her mother kept zoloft in the draws. She would take that.

She ran the tap and cleaned her face, looking at her eyes. They were rather swollen. Had she been crying?

God’s that dream had been so vivid, like she was reliving something. It felt so real.

She cleaned her face and sighed.

The dreams had gotten more vivid especially since that night Nakime had rescued from that awful club Managi had drugged her in and the terrible fate that would have followed. It was so odd she kept dreaming about her boyfriend Urogi as some kind of bird demon that assaulted her and his brothers too.

She pinched her cheeks.
Breathe
Everything was okay. It was just a dream.

The past was dead and gone.

She was alive and here.

Her fingers idly went to the blue bird pendent on her neck. The same one in her dream. It had been a gift Urogi had gotten for her birthday when they had gone from fuck buddies to couple.

She let out a shaky laugh.

Of course her brain would use that.

That was how dreams worked. They stitched familiar objects into whatever horror they wanted to spin. Trauma did that too. Took the safe things and warped them.

She leaned both palms on the sink and stared at her reflection.

“It’s just stress,” she muttered.

Her mind was just… processing.

That’s what therapists said, right?

The brain doesn’t distinguish well between imagination and memory when you’re half-asleep. It grabs faces it knows. Voices it trusts. Rearranges them into something monstrous because fear needs a shape.

There was no way it meant anything.

No way it was tied to anything before.

She had grown up normal. Suburbs. School. Uni. Bad dates and mediocre jobs and group chats.

Not forests.
Not demons.
Not flight.

She pressed her fingers harder against the pendant.

Blue enamel swallow. Smooth and cool against her skin.

Urogi had laughed when he gave it to her.

“You’re always trying to run off when you are mad at me,” he’d teased. “Figured I’d give you wings.”

She swallowed.

Her brain had probably just latched onto that line.

Wings.
Flying.
It was obvious.
Predictable.

She splashed more water on her face.

“It’s just your mind filling in gaps,” she told herself. “You almost got trafficked. You’re shaken. That’s all.”

There was no past life.
No fractured memory.
No buried history clawing its way up through dreams.
Just neurons misfiring.
Just fear.
Just imagination.

She turned off the tap and leaned back against the cool tiles.

Everything was okay.
There was nothing reaching for her.
Nothing watching.

Nothing waiting in the shadows for night to fall again.

She let out a deep breath.

Just a dream.
Nothing more.

And definitely not a memory.