Death, Haruna discovered, wasn't the peaceful darkness he'd expected. Instead, a voice cut through the void – smooth, amused, almost teasing.
"Well, well... what do we have here?"
"Poor, tarnished soul... how cruelly they've marred something so pure," it purred, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Such a waste, to end a life of passion with such... mundane treachery."
'Am I going mad?' Haruna wondered as the darkness swirled. 'Is this death's twisted comedy?'
Haruna tried to speak, but did the dead even have voices? He wasn't sure he even had a body anymore.
"Oh, don't strain yourself," the voice chuckled. "Just listen. You've had quite enough of talking, haven't you? All those pretty words you wasted on her..."
'This is madness,' Haruna thought. 'Or perhaps this is hell – being mocked for eternity by a disembodied voice.'
"Hell? Oh no, dear boy. Hell would be far too simple for what you deserve." The voice softened, almost gentle now. "You see, I've been watching. Watching as they played you like a puppet. Watching as they stripped away everything you built. And I must say... it was quite the performance."
Something that might have been a hand – cold as winter frost – caressed what might have been his cheek. "But here's the thing about performances... there's always an encore. Would you like one?"
Before Haruna could even think of responding, pain exploded through his being. White-hot agony, like being torn apart and stitched back together with lightning.
*WHOOSH*
*CRACK*
*ZZZZZZZT*
Then... nothing.
Awareness returned slowly, like wading through thick syrup. First came touch – something rough against his face, damp earth beneath his body. Then smell – rich soil, flowing water, strange flowers. Finally, sight, as he managed to wrestle whatever covered his head free.
A sack. A simple burlap sack had been over his head. Haruna blinked, his eyes struggling to adjust. Everything seemed too sharp, too vibrant. The colors were wrong – or perhaps he'd never seen them right before.
He tried to move, only to find his hands and feet bound with coarse rope. A dull ache in his palm drew his attention to a shallow cut, fresh blood still weeping from the wound.
His clothes hung in tatters, soaked through and clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The fabric was shredded as if he'd wrestled with a bear – long tears exposed scratched skin underneath, and dark stains that might have been blood or mud or both covered what remained of the garments.
'What happened to me?' He wondered, looking down at his ruined attire. The shirt barely clung to his shoulders, one sleeve completely torn away, the other hanging by threads. His pants hadn't fared much better, sporting long gashes down both legs. Whatever he'd been through, it looked like he'd lost the fight, badly.
The world around him was... strange. Not wrong, exactly, but different in ways his mind struggled to catalog. The grass swayed in patterns that seemed deliberate, each blade tipped with colors he had no names for. Trees rose like sentinels, their bark gleaming like polished stone in light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
Insects – at least, he assumed they were insects – created an orchestra of alien sounds. Chirps and trills that almost formed words, rising and falling in impossible harmonies.
'Where am I?' he wondered, trying to piece together how he'd gotten here. There was a theater, wasn't there? Victoria's face floated in his memory, but trying to hold onto it was like grasping at mist. Marcus... the gun... the betrayal... it all seemed to blur and fade, like an old photograph left in the sun.
The sound of footsteps sent panic shooting through him. Moving on instinct, he dragged himself into nearby bushes, leaves impossibly soft against his skin.
That's when he saw her.
She walked like a dream, each step placing her bare feet precisely where they needed to be. Her skin glowed with supple like butter just by mere looking.
What she wore could barely be called clothing – She wore a lace corset that hugged her body tightly, the floral design barely covering her skin. The material was thin and light, showing just enough to tease anyone looking. A soft silk skirt hung low on her hips, flowing with every step and clinging to her curves.
The corset pushed her breasts up, making them look round and full. The lace fit perfectly around them, and her nipples were clearly visible through the delicate material. Each step caused a subtle bounce that drew attention to their softness and shape.
Her ass was outlined perfectly by the silk skirt, which clung to her hips and molded to the firm, round curves of her cheeks. Every movement made the fabric shift and highlight just how beautiful her body was.
She knelt by the river, setting down an earthenware pot with clear intentions of getting it filled up.
Haruna found himself holding his breath, not wanting to disturb the scene before him. This proved to be a mistake.
*ZING!*
"AHHH!" Pain exploded across his backside, like someone had pressed a hot coal against his skin. He tumbled from his hiding spot, all thoughts of stealth forgotten as he thrashed against his bonds.
Through tear-blurred eyes, he caught sight of his attacker – an ant, but one that would have sent normal ants running in terror. It scuttled away, looking entirely too pleased with itself.
"Oh my! Are you alright?"
The voice was like wind through silver bells, and the words... the words were nothing he'd ever heard before, yet he understood them perfectly.
She stood over him now, concern written across her perfect features. Up close, she was even more beautiful – and even more impossible.
Her tits were round, full, and perfectly shaped, straining against the flimsy corset as if eager to break free. The way they moved with every movement— just enough to draw attention, to make anyone imagine how soft they'd feel in their hands was downright sinful.
Her nipples pressed against the thin, flowery fabric, hard enough to be impossible to ignore, practically begging for a touch, a squeeze, a taste.
Her hair was white-silver in colour and dancing in the air. But it was her face that held him transfixed. Features that shouldn't work together somehow formed perfect harmony – high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes the color of honey held up to sunlight.
And then there were the ears. Long, elegant things that rose to delicate points, twitching slightly as she hummed a melody that made his heart ache with its beauty. They should have looked ridiculous, yet they seemed as natural as breathing.
Those extraordinary ears twitched as she studied him, her head tilted like a curious bird.
"Poor thing, all tied up like this." She knelt beside him, the scent of wild berries and morning dew making his head spin.
"Who would do such a thing to a young elf?"
'A young what now?'
"Here, let me help you." Her fingers, impossibly gentle, worked at his bonds.
"I'm Aria. What's your name? Where did you come from? Those wounds need tending..."
Haruna tried to respond, but his tongue felt clumsy, wrong. He was still stuck on the fact that he could understand her impossible language, that her ears moved like that, that any of this was happening at all.
She smiled – a smile that somehow managed to be both innocent and knowing. "It's alright if you don't want to talk yet. I have medicine at home that will help with these cuts. Would you like to come with me?"
Haruna hesitated, eyeing the offered hand. 'Follow a stranger in a strange land? Then again...'
He glanced at his wounded palm, angry red lines already spreading from the cut. 'Not like I have much choice. Stay here and let this get infected, or...'
His eyes drifted to Aria as she retrieved her pot. She moved with an ethereal grace that seemed almost impossible. And her clothing did very little to conceal the mound of flesh peeking through.
Her ass was pure perfection—thick, firm, and impossibly round, the kind of ass you couldn't help but stare at.
Every step made it bounce and jiggle just enough to drive one crazy, the curve so deliciously exaggerated it felt almost unfair.
The barely-there fabric draped over it was sheer enough to tease every inch of her, clinging to her cheeks in a way that left nothing to the imagination. It was an ass meant to be worshipped, grabbed, smacked, and buried in. It was a perfect display of temptation that demanded attention.
'At least she seems kind. And if she wanted to hurt me, she could have left me tied up.' he decided then and there to follow her. It was not like he had another choice.
The journey to her home felt endless. Each step sent waves of exhaustion through his body, and the strange cold that seemed to seep from the ground itself didn't help.
As they walked, two revelations hit him with stunning clarity: this wasn't Earth (the two moons peeking through the canopy made that abundantly clear), and both he and Aria were... elves. The pointed ears weren't just decoration.
'Beyond that?' He touched his ear tips gingerly. 'I'm as lost as a blind man in a maze.'
Her home appeared around a bend in the valley, and Haruna nearly stumbled in relief. The structure was surprisingly... normal.
A two-story cottage built of warm golden wood and gray stone, with a thatched roof and wooden shutters. Flower boxes hung from windows, filled with blooms that seemed to glow softly in the fading light. Smoke curled lazily from a stone chimney.
Inside, the normality continued. Comfortable-looking couches with soft cushions, a wooden dining table, shelves lined with books and pottery. The main room was open and airy, with a kitchen area to one side and a sitting area dominated by a large fireplace on the other.
'Finally, something familiar,' he thought, sinking onto a chair when she gestured.
Aria set down her water pot and disappeared up a wooden staircase, returning moments later with a towel and a clay jar of something that smelled sharply herbal.
"Hold still," she murmured, applying the green paste to his wounds. "It's not as good as what a proper healer could do, but it'll prevent infection. The nearest one is in town, half a day's walk from here." She wrapped clean fabric around his palm with practiced ease.
"Let me get you something to eat. You look half-starved." She bustled to the kitchen, returning with a wooden bowl of what looked like stewed meat and vegetables in a rich broth. "Now then, are you ready to talk? Or would you prefer to eat first?"
Haruna's stomach answered for him with an embarrassing growl. Aria's tinkling laugh made his ears twitch.
"Eating first, then. Take your time." She moved about the house, straightening things, occasionally glancing his way with poorly concealed curiosity.
The food was simple but delicious, warming him from the inside out. But with each bite, exhaustion crept closer, until keeping his eyes open became a monumental task.
He woke later in a soft bed, sunlight streaming through gauzy curtains. The room was cozy – a single bed with quilted covers, a wooden dresser, a small desk beneath a window that overlooked the valley. Everything was clean and simple, touched with small decorative details that spoke of care rather than luxury.
That's when he noticed his clothing had changed. His tattered, mud-stained garments were gone, replaced by... Haruna felt his cheeks burn. He was wearing what could only be one of Aria's nightgowns – a flowing thing in soft pink silk that fell just past his knees. Delicate lace trimmed the neckline and sleeves, and tiny embroidered flowers decorated the hem.
'Of all the... did she really have nothing else?' He tugged at the feminine garment, trying to make it seem less like the dress it clearly was. 'At least nobody else is here to see this.'
He had to admit though – it was probably the softest thing he'd ever worn.
His bare feet made little sound on the wooden floor as he padded toward the door. He opened it just as Aria was reaching for the handle, making them both jump.
"Oh! I was just coming to check on you." Her amber eyes crinkled with concern. "Listen, since you're not ready to talk, I think I should contact the town guard. They might be able to help locate your parents—"
"No guards!" The words burst from him, rough and panicked. His first words in this world, driven by pure instinct.
Aria's eyes widened, those extraordinary ears perking straight up in surprise. "You... you can speak! And here I was beginning to wonder if you'd lost your voice entirely!"
'Stupid, stupid!' Haruna mentally kicked himself. 'Now what do I say?'
The elf woman crossed her arms, fixing him with a look that somehow managed to be both stern and gentle. "Well then, mysterious stranger, since you can clearly talk... perhaps you'd like to explain why you're so opposed to getting help from the guards?"