"UME!"
Sanemaru calls out to his fellow servant and adopted little sister, Umeko (oo-meh-co). Stopping his dash just inside the arched, stone doorway of Tsukiyomi's bedchamber, he sweeps the room with storm gray eyes.
Glancing at the bobbing sea of red lanterns immersed in cavernous darkness overhead, his peripheral vision is taunted by glittering, glowing, floating treasures; displayed on white stone with gray veined pedestals, each item has its own white orb. The navel-high columns stand on either side of the wide, blue pearl walkway with an air of, "Do Not Touch."
Following the straight, five-person-wide aisle set in a lava stone floor, Sanemaru briskly struts to the enormous, futuristic yet otherworldly, ten post bed.
The piercing ring of his long whistle echoes throughout the gray-walled den filled with a line of wooden chests that stand as high as a man, hiding secrets behind gold and silver painted doors. Eight gilded, two person benches with square, silver cushions stand near the wall between spaced out end tables. Intricately carved, dragon's claw pedestals hold silver oil lamps with wicks that resemble the fabled Magic Lamp.
Vines of night-blooming moon flowers grow half-way up the walls, filling the room with their sweet, mysterious aroma. In ear's reach of Umeko, "Fuck girl," Sanemaru casually approaches the young lady sitting pitifully across three, white pearl steps with her eyes closed.
The deep, polished stone leads up to a flawless, milky platform under a round wooden bed frame. With ten narrow posts draped in sheer, gold and silver curtains spiraling down to the floor, each lacquered beam has the etchings of a wingless serpent.
An enormous, thick and plush futon layered with brocade, gold and silver silks shimmer with every glance. Shaggy, white fur pelts remissfully layer the plush bedding atop a semi-firm surface. Square and round pillows are piled like a quarter moon on the bedside facing the back half of Tsukiyomi's regal bedchamber. The ten legs of adjoining posts are carved into a dragon's claw clutching alternating gold and silver orbs.
Poles that rise 3 meters (10 ft) high above the bed end over a dozen meters below the warm light of floating lanterns filling a domed cavern at different heights within the vaulted, enclosed space. Connected by a giant ring of girthy, silver and gold vines that weave into an enormous crown, a miniature moon the size of a human head hovers for the viewing pleasure of anyone laying in bed.
Stopping at the base of the steps near her feet, spotting the silent stream of tears nurturing her cheeks, "You almost had me worried."
Inspecting the sparsely damp, dingy knee-length robe clinging to toffee curves, Sanemaru's tone softens, "Why aren't you sleep?"
Watching how the girl's disheveled body slumps with shallow breaths against one of the bed's legs, his sight trails down a delicate bosom to defined, naked calves laying across two deep steps. Nudging her foot with his green painted toes to check if she's unconscious, "Better question."
Placing his hands on his hips and sniffing the air, he stops then stares at her accusingly, "Why're you in here?"
Whispering with bewildered, cinnamon eyes glued to polished stone under slowly bending knees, "Sane (sah-nay)," she hugs herself, "I don't know what to do."
Umeko's slightly wavy, raven hair sticks to sweaty, tear-stained cheeks. Bloodshot eyes sit behind puffy, cocoa lids that appear to have been crying for quite some time. Dry, berry lips beckon for moisturizing relief as they quiver helplessly. Roughly sucking up snot, she wipes under her nose with the back of her hand.
The horse's muscularly thick, tobacco skinned mortal form with hurricane eyes pulls a braided, fire ombre tail with a yellow tip to his thighs before plopping down beside her.
Glittering, slate gray robes stitched with swirling clouds and blue lightning along the hem conforms to his showy physique. Catching her staring at the matching pattern on his harem pants' legs, "What's wrong, lil' sis?"
Sanemaru wraps an arm around Umeko's petite shoulders, bringing her into a side hug as he gets more comfortable on the step. Shielding her from the world with biceps of tungsten, Umeko welcomes his tender warmth and spiced woods musk.
Tightening her grip on the fabric enveloping her, she buries her face in his hard chest. Tears leap from her eyes, darkening his shirt, "I don't think Lord Tsukiyomi has much time left."
Sniffling, wiping her tears on his robes, "And that evil thing has Mizuki (me-zoo-key) mixed up."
Sobbing harder, "A-A-And I don't even wanna think about what's gonna happen to me," her whine turns into a guttural groan. Pulling back slightly to wipe away snot with her sleeve, Sanemaru's free hand hovers over her head as he pretends to pet her hair with flared nostrils and pinched lips.
"I know I should leave so I don't get killed, but," she wraps her arms around his waist and nearly climbs into his lap to cling to his body, "I don't wanna leave you or Tsukiyomi."
Roughly sucking in all her sorrows and swallowing hard, "I can't just run away after everything you (both) did for me."
Sanemaru's palm awkwardly pats the top of her head as Umeko's emotions remain unstable. Gasping harder in an attempt to tone down her wails, she ends up bellowing louder. Tucking his chin with his ears pointing away from her cries, she buries her face in his chest. Umeko's scream is muffled into Sanemaru's reliable pecs, "Nothing'll change if I run away!"
Growing numb, the knot in her stomach relaxes into a sore tremble, "And honestly. . ."
Whimpering into bulging muscles, "What can keep me safe from something like him?"
Shaking her head, on the brink of accepting defeat, "No matter what I do."
Raising her head with dismay to glance over his fire ombre, afro mohawk, she settles on cloudy, bay eyes, "It's only a matter of time before I--."
In a gruff murmur, placing his index fingers on her lips, "There, there."
Shifting in the stone seat to guide her from half-devouring his body with hers, Sanemaru runs his hands along her arms. Massaging her fingers to loosen their grip on his luxurious garment, she screams in his face, "No!"
Beating his chest until he grabs her wrists to stop her, she slides down a step by the butt while jerking free, "I don't want to leave!"
Frowning, recalling her more recent memories, "The gods blessed me by throwing us together."
Umeko hangs her head and her fists drop into her lap, "Me," tears roll down tawny apples.
Weakly shifting to her knees to crawl between his legs and up his body, "After they took everyone that mattered and left me behind," she captures his concerned, tsunami stare.
Staring into his soul with conviction as she kneels between his parted thighs, "They gave me Tsukiyomi."
Sanemaru's ears turn from the sides of his head to face her. Tilting his head to watch the girl return to crying, chestnut ears point forward. A spine-wriggling shudder wracks through her before a deep, ragged breath calms her, "You're (both) the only reason I'm not dead."
Umeko's forehead lands roughly against his collarbone when she collapses into him, "Or worse."
Cradling her, Sanemaru speaks with a confident reassurance while palming circles over her upper back, "You're wasting tears on a man that has no use for them."
Cupping the back of her neck, the hot weight of his firm touch soothes her into a quiet sniffle. The stubble from Sanemaru's jaw brushes her temple with every few syllables, "He'll never stop fighting because he can't."
Unintentionally reminding her of the comfort her late father once provided, he kisses over the parts of her hairline in reach of his lips, "It's not in his make up. He breathes to ultimately provide what's best for everyone."
Shrugging before guiding her up by the shoulders, "Even the whores, murderers, pillagers, and. . ."
Pausing when he realizes his casual tone draws in Umeko's discomfort and disbelief, he clears his throat. Shifting his tone from a proud brag to express most humility, "All the other redeemable wretches like me that don't deserve it but keep trying to be good anyways."
Smirking with a hushed chortle, "Besides," he tilts her chin up with the side of his index finger, "Cum-Captors that hot, doggity damn delicious never lose."
Running his tongue over a pillowy, bottom lip, an eyebrow twitches up as he stares off into the distance. Umeko's breathy tears freeze when his words enter her ears. Scrunching up her face to stare at him with a confused, raised eyebrow questioning his seriousness, she can't find any words to speak. With a side-mouthed grin, "Seriously," he nods proudly, "That dragon," he huffs, "Has no idea who he's messin' with."
Sliding broad fingers to brace her cheek, his thumb wipes away a fresh bead of salty sorrow, "C'mon."
Picking loose strands of hair from her damp face while she drifts into the watery horizon of his seaside storm, "Things can't fall into place unless you get your beauty rest."
Rocking her gently, whispering like a tender breeze, "Aren't you excited to see home tomorrow?"
Sanemaru pauses, pursing his lips to the side and speaking as compassionately as a lustful, horse demon can muster, "Even if it's just a, y'know, massive grave."
Reminded of her grief, inconsolability doubles down until Umeko eventually cries herself to sleep in his arms.
Scooping her up bridal style, he carries her into the throne hall and turns left. Bare feet slap and echo against pewter cobblestone as he diagonally makes his way down the hall. Stepping onto the teal carpet runner with a silver scale pattern, Sanemaru stares at Umeko's face when she groans and shudders in her sleep.
Five, fire-bearing sticks of white rest staggered in brass lace holders mounted to the wall between every door and stained glass window. High above the duo's heads and down the length of the hall float brass ribbon chandeliers winding to form giant poofs of woven metal; magnified to a hundred compared to the wall holders, their light shines under the suffocatingly pure darkness above.
Casually striding between the distant doors of Tsukiyomi's bathing room to their left, their shadows dance in multiple directions while passing his study on their right. Finally drifting to her bedroom, the last door on the right with his back to the throne, Sanemaru slows to a stop. One of the hall's sparsely spaced, stained glass windows catches his attention, the one that separates her room from Tsukiyomi's study.
Finding himself staring intently at etched and painted glass that he's passed a hundred times, this is the first time he's really looked at it.
The giant work of art, that glows as though a full moon shines directly behind it from the other side (which is impossible from deep within the mountain), depicts the massive dragon's true form when he's not wearing Tsukiyomi's skin. Glowing, colorful panels of glass large enough for adult humans to hide in, exhibits the powerful defeat of a large group of enemies.
Glancing into compelling shards that remaster that very night into an array of bold color, he sees the silver, blue-green scaled serpent circling with a body so ginormous it winds with itself above hoards of weapon-wielding humans. Absorbed by the vivid detail transporting him back to the night that the dragon demon first took unauthorized control over his master and friend, Sanemaru recalls its indiscriminate wrath; melting the lives, culture, and history around him as screams of agony echo and the earth burns ablaze with liquid fires spraying forth from every exhale, the faithful steed shifts his sight.
Distracted from the intricate relic secure in a private museum, tornado eyes scan Umeko's distressed, sleeping face. Recognizing the blip in time in front of him, that forever changed things in his own home in the blink of an eye, had an even larger than anticipated impact on the world around it.
Embracing a random young woman whose fate destined her to be intertwined with theirs, he feels sadness knowing that every time she passes this deceitfully obtained, yet greatly celebrated time for his people, must be a constant slap in her face if they were her people.
Shaking his head with a heavy sigh, Sanemaru turns to continue his mission to tuck her in. Stopping when he stands in front of the varnished oak frame set in mountain stone that marks her dwelling, he reaches for the knob set in varnished wood with black metal loops intertwining on the door in the shape of a complicated flower.
Pushing it open into the room, he swiftly carries her inside to gently lay the precious gift into her bed and pull the blankets over her. Leaving her alone under the dying lantern-filled dome identical to Tsukiyomi's bedroom's, he pulls the door shut behind him. Turning right, he steps toward the center aisle and makes his way through gargantuan, open wooden doors carved from solid, red wood.
Arching high enough to touch the darkness in the domed ceiling, flower scrolls and vines crawl around the broad wooden frame set in gray stone bordering a lake of glorious, glassy sanguine. A dragon's face with gold, pointed horns and silver dipped teeth protrudes. Fire opal eyes remain fixed in the open gate separating the lower level from the tower.
Walking from pewter cobblestone to glossy sunstone flooring, he makes his way past a tree. Growing in the middle of a glittering stone landing surrounded by an upward spiraling staircase, dark bark, vibrant green leaves, and aromatic, glowing apricots manage to flourish within the confines of a windowless part of the mountain.
Climbing polished stone steps carved from metallic, gray rock with super-human speed, he slows to a stop at the top of the landing. Drenched in the flickering light of torches mounted inside metal racks, the entire length of path behind him is just as well lit.
The sound of a woman crying quietly becomes much clearer in his ears from the other side of this level's gate. Facing rice paper, sliding doors with a grayscale mountain and red plum blossom trees, he ushers it open. Passing the threshold, bare soles step onto dark, polished wood.
Entering a wooden hall resembling the futuristic decor of what will be known as a traditional Japanese palace, many sliding doors spaced evenly apart disappear into the walls at the far end. Tracking the unusual sound, he stops at the first door on his right, which happens to be the tearoom's wood and paper door.
Sliding the lightweight divider open, Sanemaru lays surprised yet intrigued, stormy eyes on the unexpected source of vocal dismay.
Mizuki, the violet-eyed bear demon that was Tsukiyomi's second sworn servant after Sanemaru, shifts in a ceramic, butt-high, barrel seat. Turning her back to the beefy steed sporting a luscious, afro-mohawk, she swiftly pats her face with the cascading, bell sleeve of her lavender, mid-thigh, curve-hugging dress.
Quickly dropping open her handheld fan with mauve claws, Mizuki hides her peachy face behind painted wooden panels strung together.
Focused on reaching her side, Sanemaru glides past the low-rise, black table large enough to comfortably seat twelve. Teal, square floor cushions spaced evenly apart surround the lacquered surface dressed with white stone dishes, golden chalices, and silver placemats. The closer he gets, the more he notices her appearance. Taking in the ornate twists in chestnut purple hair to form a braided headband and bear ears, a tiny smile touches his lips.
Mizuki leans sideways into a small, round table from one of two matching garden stools close to the back of the sleekly decorated room. Supported by painted clay with colorful flowers on a black background, the elegant furniture is situated in front of a panoramic wall that is shaped like an aesthetic frame that pictures nature's beauty in real time.
Beyond the staggering, red windowsill large enough for a line of people to dance on is the paradise view of Tsukiyomi's magical garden. Pink glowing moths flit lazily into the tearoom, avoiding the somber waves emanating from a beguiling, humanoid Mizuki.
Sanemaru comes up slowly behind her, edgy from her lack of acknowledgement. Steadily placing his large hand on her shoulder, she cringes from under his touch; leaning the opposite way while sliding along the table, she fans her eyes faster, "Why're you here?"
Disregarding the disdain in her tone, "Thought you needed help since," he places his hands on his hips, "It's not like you to cry like a lil' b--."
Amethyst eyes cast a nasty snare from over her shoulder, shutting him up. Bitterly, "Nag," she rolls her eyes away and sits up straight. Facing the table, she lays hands with almond shaped, mauve nails on top of her open fan.
Tucking his chin with a dramatic gasp, an offended Sanemaru places a hand on his chest, "The fuck I am."
Standing swiftly, "Demon who favors the human and befriends the god thinks I need help?"
Mizuki faces Sanemaru to push him into a backward step using a single index finger in the center of his chest. Snatching blossom-painted wood from the table, "I shouldn't even be here," she closes the fan and repeatedly pokes his chest with it.
Gritting her teeth, "Trusting YOU tricked me into believing I could trust," neat eyebrows push together as she displays conflicted confusion.
Keeping her face out of sight from his, "That banished thing that's above staying here with us."
Pulling back to fan reddening cheeks as they fill with blood and an unbecoming amount of emotion for a demoness, "I refuse to be known as an idiot traitor among our kind for serving the wrong Master in the end."
Slamming her fan into her palm to collapse it with a CLAP, "The true Lord of the Realms has my loyalty."
Eyes flickering red, baring her fangs, she readies her feet apart until she displays a fighting stance. Defensively, "You with me?"
Raising his hands in surrender, "Is the true Lord of the Realms," he mocks, "The one talking right now? 'Cause I wanna talk to the real Mizuki."
With her noze twisting into a furry, chestnut muzzle, "Fuck you," snarling, "You horse-faced, I'm so hungry," grabbing the air and fucking it, "I'd-stick-my-dick-in-a-dying-Nigawarai, you asshole slurping, cock sucker!"
Apalled, Sanemaru cups the air in utter shock before searching the room and shaking his head with an offended, neighing huff, "You fuckin', loose-ass, sloppy-tittied cunt!"
Pointing in her face as she smirks joyfully at him, he freezes with a vocal, "UGH!"
Drawing back with a yuck face and head tilt, "Asshole slurping? Bitch!"
Bunching his eyebrows, "You gullible, cum-instead-of-water bathing, Bum. Ass. Bear," his ears point at her as he folds his arms.
"You're just jealous I get to actually bathe in his delicious cum while you stroke your filthy, wimpy little dick dreaming of its taste," childishly sticking out her tongue, she crosses her arms and turns to the side.
Raising a shaky index finger with his half-balled fist, "I was gonna go easy on you an' be nice but," he raises his hand above his head.
"You better get your," putting his hands up in confusion and mocking her voice, "Emotionally unavailable men are perfect because I don't trust anyone anyways," he straightens up.
"Having ass out my face before I shove my fist so far up that overfed hog you call an ass that you can see my middle finger flipping you off every time you look in the mirror."
Scoffing over her before she has the chance to get a word in, "With your," comedically imitating her, "I don't know what it's like to be happy," having ass," he rolls his neck before popping his knuckles and bouncing on his toes like he's getting ready to dance.
Smacking his lips, "Girl, I'm two steps from breaking my leg off inside that onion booty. He's gonna have one less hole to play with while you're busy," he acts out an uncomfortable squat, "Shitting Sane for the rest of your life."
Stomping and dragging a naked, blue-sparking foot back against stone, Sanemaru's horse ears lay back. With magenta and cocoa lips shrinking away from his teeth, "If you think I won't kick you so hard you'll be coughing up horseshoes, you got me fucked up, little girl. I was NOT in the mood to get reamed without spit when I walked," Sanemaru 's neigh turns into a snort as he points to the ground, "Up in hyahn!"
Staring down the humanoid bear, his fed up expression shows no remorse while smoke escapes his flared nostrils. Stunned, Mizuki's face reverts back to her alluring, soft features. Getting caught up in the name calling, he mutters a final, "You overplayed, underappreciated, sexy ass Cock Goblin."
Shaking his head hard enough to ruffle his fluffy, fire ombre coils, Sanemaru stops to put his foot down with an exasperated groan. Staring at Mizuki's silent frown and empty eyes, regret crawls its way up his spine.
"Dammit all, you hairy bitch."
Stomping, throwing his hands up, "You lucky you my girl because," an irritated yet patient, rumbling neigh reiterates, "Tsukiyomi isn't just our master. Did your self-centered, ass-pussy forget he's our FRIEND?!"
Further attempting a voice of reason while pointing in her face, "You gotta jump off that candied, dragon-stuffed Blow-Poke of his before you end up worse than Nala."
Leaning in close to soothingly stroke her arm, "'Cause you're sooooo much better than that."
Mizuki punches him away, keeping her head down as he catches his footing on the spotless, wooden floor. Lifting her head to look at Sanemaru in a disgusted disbelief, "You'd choose a kami (god) over everything he (Ryu) wants to do for our kind?"
Violet eyes land on Sanemaru's skeptical, eyelid fluttering, duck lipped, I-can't-believe-you-had-to-ask-knowing-I-would-100%-choose-him-even-if-it-hurts-your-unstable-feelings, nodding pout.
Vexed, she roars at him with claws up. Shifting his weight, he readjusts his stance to cooly cross one arm over his stomach and cup his chin with the other. His disarming stance annoys her, driving Mizuki to turn on her heel and stomp to the garden window.
Balling her fists at her sides, "If you were in my skin," her voice lowers, "You'd spend the rest of your immortal life in someone's debt just because they saved you?"
Staring out into a starlit sky that beckons dawn, "An existence," she strokes the edge of the windowsill near the right wall. Muttering, "As miserable as mine," a disheartened chuckle escapes.
Clutching the fabric covering her heart, she asks the ground rather than her friend, "How am I supposed to be thankful for a life I didn't ask for. . .?"
After a brief silence with no resolution, she growls, "That I didn't even WANT!"
Punching the unsuspecting, wooden beam with the side of her fist, a resonating POW indents the red wood while shaking the walls, "Did you (two) expect me to live an eternity as a guardian and slave after EVERYTHING I survived before you (both)?"
Mizuki turns sharply to face him, "That kind of kinky shit might stroke your spoke," proud of herself, she places her hands on her hips and sticks her chest out, "But I intend to be an empress instead."
Sanemaru scratches the back of his head before fluffing the coils tickling his eyebrows, trying to make sense of things.
Spinning to sashay coolly to the steed, he becomes alert when she threateningly points her closed fan at his nose, "Tsukiyomi plans on leaving us behind."
Standing back poised with the tip of her closed fan against her chin, she eyes him curiously by the way his ears twitch and his lips quiver, "Did you know?"
Sanemaru's eyebrows raise in shock and she drops her arms to her sides, stepping close enough to press her hefty bosom into his rock hard pectorals. Locking eyes with the stormy steed, her sultry tone gives him a chill, "After everything we helped him through and protected him from, what happens to us when He abandons us to ascend?"
Ashamed for assuming, velvety ears point at her while the storm in his eyes lull at the fixation of the bear's shiny, purple lips, "I didn't know you didn't know. . ."
Sighing quietly from Mizuki's hurt expression, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Poking his thick, amaranth muscle between pursed cocoa lips, Sanemaru moistens his lips with a hearty lick.
Flaring his nostrils with a deep exhale to disperse the dense awkwardness between them, "I planned on returning to my land a wiser, tempered, more patient," wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "Fuller-bodied," nudging the air close to her arm with his elbow, "Intoxicating king."
Before Mizuki has the chance to dash his sentimental vision with her lack of a home to return to, he takes a step back; interlocking brawny fingers against the taffeta covering his rippled abs, Sanemaru shrugs innocently with a hopeful smile, "And I thought you'd come with me. . .?"
The steed's ears turn away from the sour chuckle that flees Mizuki's luscious lips, "I don't even know how to live a normal life or function out there in any of the capacities my looks would provide."
Frowning as her words caress his heart, Sanemaru relaxes completely when she rests her forehead on his. The warmth of her milk parsley breath reaches his lips, "And if I ever reveal my true form, then everyone would know where I came from and put it all together. Someone like me can't get away with even pretending to walk in the circles of pedigree blood you come from."
Clenching her jaw, delicate lids shut to showcase long, fluffy lashes, "You taught me everything you know but. . ."
Swallowing dryly as she doubts her very worth, her voice drips low confidence, "At the end of the day, I only know how to be me."
Before he has the chance to respond with optimistic compassion, Mizuki visibly strengthens her resolve and backs away with trembling, clenched fists, "And Tsukiyomi made it clear we're at the bottom of his social preference," inhaling sharply through gritted teeth, "The moment he brought that ningen (neen-gain/human) here."
Narrowing violet eyes that ignite a neon glow, "Now that I'm no longer blind to the truth," her jaw pops with a low growl.
"I can aid the greatest leader of all time on his path to make the world great for our sake, Sane (sah-nay)."
"What do you think Tsukiyomi-sama has been doing this whole time for us?"
"Not enough! I can't remember the last thing he gave us to show he gives a damn. My new lord gave me my own room and countless gifts!"
Putting his hand in her face with a raised eyebrow and head tilt, she backs her nose from the tawny palm covered in dark lines and thick calluses.
"Bitch, please," waving his hand dismissively with a disillusioned smirk, "You know he gave me my own room, too-- right next to yours. Getting set up in Minx Mountain don't make you special, you greedy ass cow."
Shaking his head with a disappointed grumble, "As if we didn't have our own everything in the beginning," twistering irises roll away from the buxom woman. Sanemaru closes his eyes and breathes deep, massaging his temples to remain patient, "That dragon's stir-fried your thinking noodles with Tsuki's magical meat sauce."
Putting his foot down, pointing in her face, "You sound like the horny ass," Sanemaru zombifies himself and walks exaggeratingly with his arms up in front. Dragging a foot while pacing aimlessly to drive his point across, his voice shrivels into the haunting mock of a brain dead ghoul, "I'd kill my own mother if he asked me to."
Returning to normal in the blink of an eye, standing tall before her, "Bitch to an egotistical," he sighs frustratingly. Quickly shaking his head, "Seductively psychotic," Sanemaru's lips smack, "Lunatic inside the body of a," stressing the syllables with his hands, "Li-te-ral gift from the Heavens!"
Mizuki spits off to the side and crosses her arms, keeping her cheek to Sanemaru until his blaring energy tones down.
Recognizing his words are falling on deaf ears, "Damn it all," he pouts with crossed arms. Readjusting himself to copy her body language, he excessively shakes out his limbs after a deep, laborious breath, "You right."
Jumping up and down as though he's pumping himself up for a fight, "I'd be doing the same shit if I was in your shoes."
Dropping his fists to eye her seriously instead, "But I'm in mine."
Exhaling dramatically with a disgusted 'ugh', "So, I'm going to be me by telling you. . ."
Pointing at her with a wise scowl, "This isn't going to end the way you want it to if you don't clean your face and chew that dumpling of humility."
Taking a stomach expanding, deep breath and pushing stray coils up his forehead to meld back into a wooly mohawk, Sanemaru gently whispers, "Mizu."
Scooping up her hands then softly resting his forehead against hers, "Since you both know," he tenderly meets her gaze as she patiently waits for his next words, "I be jerking it to the thought of you (both)."
Backing his face up to show her he's offended while grabbing his hips, "Why the fuck ya'll dirty devils waitin' to tag a bro in?"
Mizuki's eyes capture Sanemaru's stare in a long, deathly glare until he bursts out in laughter.
Growing more irate with every barreling cackle, she eventually breaks out in laughter with him.
Boisterous belts of amusement quiet to nasally snickers before they end up nodding contentedly.
Cupping her cotton covered shoulder with one hand, he taps the edge of her chin up with the other, "We good, gorgeous?"
"Yeah," she chuckles breathily while wiping away a tear of laughter, "We good."
As if her very lungs sucked in all the frigidity the world had to offer, she dons an icy exterior while glowering him from head, to toe, to cloudy eyes, "For now."
Walking around him to head for the door, she stops at his side. With their sleeves just barely touching, Mizuki seethes through gritted teeth with elongating fangs, "But if you choose that stank, weak-ass twig over me. . ."
Violet eyes narrow with a menacing darkness, "You'll regret it."
Wiping the last tear from her pink cheek, she sashays to the door.
Stopping in the entryway to look back at him from over her shoulder with a melancholic leer, "Stick with your own kind, Sane."
Staring into the hall, her hand gripping the door frame as claws elongating until they faintly pierce the black, painted wood, "No one else knows how to love the children born of darkness."
Shaken by Mizuki's words, his focus on her after image as she turns right into a dimly lit, wooden hall fades.
Dropping his juicily round, athletic bottom on a ceramic stool with his tail settling on the floor, he rests his elbow on the table while leaning his cheek against boxer knuckles.
". . .Love. . .?"