Author's Note: This story is a gift for my good friend Pallan Minerva, who is both a fantastic author (The Saga of Shirou's Summons is a work to behold) and also first inducted me into the cult of Kiara. I think this one got considerably darker than either of us expected. The rating is M as much for violence as anything sexual, which perhaps should not be entirely a surprise when a certain corrupt bodhisattva is involved.

"Don't worry about a thing, Boss Raikou! Nothing will happen to Master while I'm by his side. Even dragon kings fall beneath my Bear's wheels, heh!"

Kiara watched from the far side as Kintoki grinned, his sunglasses glinting under the pale lights of the Rayshift room. He punched his Master good-naturedly in the arm, almost sending the young man reeling. Fufu, so much energy, she thought to herself, and resisted the urge to giggle. One of these days I'll find a good use for it. I might have already, if not for—

"My, Kintoki," said Raikou in return, a warm smile playing on her lips. "You never stop causing trouble. But I'm happy to see you turn it towards protecting Master... my boys are growing up right in front of me." She sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's enough to make a mother's heart burst with pride."

If not for his guardian. Kiara took the opportunity to drink the Berserker in as she chided their Master playfully, straightening his shirt as the youth blushed in embarrassment. She was tall and graceful, her purple raiment clinging to her form in a way that emphasized the womanly curves of her hips and breasts. Midnight black hair framed a mature feminine face, which wore the anxious smile of a mother watching her children leave for war. Children she had trained herself and believed in, but could not help but worry about. Even the way her hand rested on her sword hilt spoke of how she wished she could follow and guard her eaglets, even as she held herself back so they could take flight.

An expertly crafted mask, beautifully fashioned to embody the ideal mother, but a mask nonetheless. Kiara had worn many in her lifetime and had coaxed countless more from the faces of others until they stood naked before her. That experience let her see the hairline cracks in Raikou's motherly facade. The way she held herself a little toorigid, the way her eyes rested on the young magus' throat.

Kiara did not remember her mother very well. She had died in the incident, leaving her daughter with little but a vague memory of soft hair and a warm embrace, painted in tones of rose gold. But she had read many tales of mothers, had lived among mothers and guided them through the doors of salvation. She knew what a mother was meant to be, even if many (poor things) fell short of that eternal ideal. But while most stumbled in mundane ways—through selfishness, through impatience, through neglect—Raikou somehow failed on a deeper level. The pieces were all there, but assembled so askew that the matronly smile was instead a pained rictus to anyone who could see with the mind as well as the eyes.

But Raikou wanted the mask to fit. Oh yes, desperately so. And in that, there was opportunity.

Kiara smiled, even as she joined the Berserker in waving farewell to their Master as he stepped into his coffin. The metal doors slid closed, then there was a pulse of blue-hot light and a hiss of electricity as humanity's saviour was projected out into the stream of time.

Raikou watched until the light faded away, then dropped her smile like a lead weight. She breathed in and out slowly, cycling her breath, before turning towards the chamber door. Then she stopped in her tracks, her violet eyes drawn towards Kiara's own.

There was a small pause, a leaf landing upon the tranquil surface of a mirrored lake. Then the suspicion in Raikou's eyes faded away as if it had never been there, leaving polished cheer in its wake.

"Kiara-san," she nodded. "Good afternoon. Did you come to see our Master off?"

"Yes. As his Servant, I shall put my everything into guiding his way. If watching over things in his absence is what he wishes of me, then of course I shall do my utmost to satisfy him."

She reached up to tuck a strand of hair back into her hood, lifting it neatly to rest behind her ear. Raikou followed the motion with her gaze, then upwards towards the curve of her horns. But rather than frown at them, her brow lifted and softened.

Is that pity? Kiara mused to herself. No, call it recognition. Perhaps a trace of sympathy. Inwardly, she laughed. Do you also recognize a mask, and wonder what lies beneath it? Fufu, surely I must respond to such a plea.

So she let a gentle smile spread across her lips, as delicate as a new butterfly shivering in its first wind. "It shall be some time until Master returns to us. If your heart feels as uneasy as mine, perhaps we might soothe each other's restlessness? I find that hot tea and company always helps in such times."

She fully expected to be turned down, but after a moment's hesitation, the other smiled back. "That sounds lovely. Please, lead on."

Kiara took her through the doors and into the maze of Chaldea's hallways, destination already clear in her mind. They made only a brief pause at the kitchen to collect a tray, cups and a pot of sweet-smelling jasmine tea. As they walked through increasingly remote corridors, away from the common spaces and towards the observatories, she had plenty of time to consider.

What secret should I hide under this smile, so she may have the pleasure of pulling it up? Now the hallways were entirely empty, save for the soft clacks of their shoes against the metal floors. What would most encourage her to reveal herself in turn? Show me the delicious darkness I can use to drive a wedge between her and her proteges.

She smiled encouragingly at Raikou as she held open the door to a forgotten lounge. Once a place of respite for the magus teams that tirelessly tracked the stars for the Animusphere clan, it now lay as unused as the telescopes. Stars had long since given way to Grails and Saint Graphs as the key features of Chaldea's studies, but Kiara couldn't help but feel a certain fondness for them. They had been her companions on many a lonely night at the hospital, when pain wouldn't let her sleep and the strictly enforced curfew wouldn't let her read.

She smiled as she set down the tea tray on a nearby table, after brushing away a thin coating of dust. Sentimental, perhaps, but it was good to let such thoughts settle in. They helped fuel sincerity, the best ingredient in any dinner of lies.

Raikou automatically reached for the pot and cups, the gesture of someone who had trained themselves to pamper. She poured a generous amount of the steaming green liquid in each cup, then settled herself into one of the padded chairs. Kiara joined her, reaching for her drink and breathing in the delicate symphony of aromas, light and orchid-fresh with just a hint of citrus.

"Thank you," she murmured around her cup.

"Think nothing of it," said Raikou.

Her gaze was fixed upon the window, where the Antarctic snow was blowing furiously in the wind. Blizzards were not unusual in the harsh region surrounding Chaldea, even if they were easily forgotten by most of its residents, safely hidden in the facility's nest of heated rooms and creature comforts. Kiara glanced at the white mass that was piling up on the other side of the glass, then back at her companion's thoughtful expression.

"Do you enjoy the winter, Raikou-san?" she asked.

"I spent enough nights out on campaign to treasure every day of summer instead," said the warrioress. "There is little pleasure to be found in wet boots and biting winds." She sighed as she set down her cup. "But I can't deny that strength only grows in adversity."

"As our young Master does," said Kiara, then gave her a conspiratorial smile. "His trials and sacrifices have moulded him into quite a fine young man. One that any woman would feel proud to call her own."

Raikou's mouth twitched before settling into a mother's triumphant smile. "He has grown very well."

"Fufu, yes. Enough that I would like to clasp him to my bosom and never let him go. But that is not what he needs," she said, watching carefully for the other's reaction.

It did not disappoint. Raikou's shoulders dropped just a shade, and her gaze looked further away through the snow drifts. Already the snow had begun to blot out the sun, leaving them in the thin artificial light of the disused room.

"He needs room to grow and stretch his wings," said Raikou. "An eagle must fly, even if I wish I could keep him by my side forever."

"As your chick, or as something else?" asked Kiara mildly.

Raikou turned to face her then, her face set in a forbidding frown. "My my... what exactly are you implying, Kiara-san?"

"If you sense an implication in my words, it is only because you've already thought of it."

She allowed her brows to crease into a look of concern, all the more convincing because it was sincere. Kiara firmly believed in passion as the root of salvation, and she did not care to see anyone hide theirs under duty or propriety. Especially passion as deliciously deviant as she suspected her companion hid within herself.

Raikou said nothing, only gazed at her with bitter eyes. I suppose I shall need to do most of the work this time as well, thought Kiara. Ahh, but that is a pleasure in and of itself.

Kiara's voice was soothing honey as she poured it over her companion, a balm against the sting she carefully placed in each word. "You didn't want to let him go, did you? But not just to keep him safe, the way you worry about Kintoki-san." She giggled, hiding her face modestly behind her long sleeve. "You want to clasp your arms around him and pull him close, the same way you would clasp a lover. I see the hunger in your eyes when you look at him."

She watched her prey with glittering eyes, already anticipating the play of emotions across that beautiful face. A maidenly blush seemed very unlikely, but perhaps a flash of outrage? The long suffering sigh of a stepmother making yet another sacrifice for her charges?

But Raikou merely took a long sip of her tea before smiling back at her, her mask still resolutely in place. "Kiara-san, do you know the legend I share with Kintoki?"

"Ara ara, but of course," smiled Kiara, even as she wondered about the unexpected turn of conversation. "I learn as much as I can about all the souls around me, the better to bring them succour."

"Tell it to me, please." Raikou's expression was as patient as ever, and Kiara resisted the urge to praise it.

"If you wish, although I do hope you will forgive my mistakes. My knowledge cannot compare to one who lived it, after all." She emptied her cup and set it back down on her saucer, the clink of china echoing in the silent room. Even the raging storm could not penetrate layers of tempered glass.

"Then I shall begin with the day that young Kintarou descended from Mount Ashigara. A young child despite his incredible strength, faced with a vast world he could neither wrestle into submission nor outrun in a race. They say his smile shone so bright at the thought that even the stars wept with envy—"

For long minutes, she poured out the old tale, pieced together from the many records she had absorbed in her former incorporeal state. She had always enjoyed story-telling, and Raikou was a very good listener. She nodded her approval as the web was spun. She offered neither clarification or objection, even though the threads were woven from her own story.

"—yet Sataka Kintoki placed himself between the terrible demon and all their swords and spears. For he understood that his protector, Minamoto-no-Raikou, and the fury of Ushi-Gozen were one and the same. He understood that to kill one was to kill both, and his child's heart rebelled at the thought. So pure was his dedication, so desperate his need to save her, that even the demon was moved."

She leaned forward in her chair as she slowed her rhythm, to give power to her next words. "So it was neither holy sword nor demonic talon that defeated Ushi-Gozen, but the power of the bond between parent and child. She willingly returned to her human self, in the name of protecting that bond."

Raikou was watching her with rapt attention, hanging on her words. Kiara paused, then spread her arms in an apologetic shrug.

"There are many other stories to tell, of course. And all those stories led to your existence as Heroic Spirits, enshrined as mother and child in the memories of humankind. Is it not wonderful?"

"No," said Raikou with a sudden growl. "It is nothing of the sort. As happy as I am to see him again, it should never have come to pass."

Kiara blinked. After a moment, she reached for the teapot and refilled their cups, keeping her hands busy while she considered. "You regret that he has become a hero? I suppose no mother enjoys watching her son fight in endless battles—"

"You misunderstand," said the Berserker. "I am proud of the path Kintoki has forged for himself. If humanity did not remember him, I should have been very angry indeed." She accepted the refilled cup, but left it lying on its saucer. "But I regret the way I have been crystallized into his legend. For I should never have been his mother."

She deliberately locked eyes with Kiara, and now there was a fire burning away the cool violet of her gaze. It smoked around the edges of those dark pupils. "Just as I should not be Master's mother, no matter how much I wish to be. No matter how much he may need one."

"Because I want to eat him," said Raikou, a sardonic smile stretched across her face to match her burning eyes. "As I want to eat Kintoki. Always, every time I look at him. Even when he offered me his first riceball, made clumsily but with all a boy's love, I wanted to tear into him instead."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Ushi-Gozen may know love, but she also knows the hunger, the thirst for blood. Behind the cage of tenderness, it howls into my mind, my stomach. Eat, it says, eat, devour, and be satisfied."

The Berserker stared defiantly over her cup, the flames taking on a poisoned hue. "This is why it pleased me when he killed that Shuten-Douji, and why I shall never accept her as my daughter. For no matter how much she loves him, she will always dream of eating him. As I did, even as I would have given the last breath under my ribs for him. For that is the demonic nature of oni."

"And this is why I can never be a true mother. Without my heart to cage my body, I will devour anything that touches me. I cannot even bear children, you know. Without knowing the child is growing, I cannot love it. And without that love, my womb will devour the child inside before it has the chance to grow."

Raikou clenched her fist on the table, her breaths coming in sharp bursts now. Kiara watched her in silence, feeling satisfaction settle on her like a second robe. I see what bites at you now, Minamoto-no-Raikou, the taint that bubbles under your mask and threatens to push it off. Not the hunger for joining flesh, as I first thought, but the hunger for a child born of your own. She glanced at her tea, long since grown cold, as she turned the knowledge over in her mind. Now, how best to soothe that ache and make her mine?

She paused, then gently reached out and lightly patted Raikou's hand. The warrioress looked up at her in wonder, as if in disbelief that someone would willingly touch her after what she had just admitted.

"I understand that we have walked very different paths, for all that we have both seen heaven and hell," she murmured, knowing that the Berserker's sharp ears would still pick up every melodious syllable. "But here is a pain that we share."

Raikou considered her, her gaze sweeping her face questioningly. Kiara cleared her throat, then looked down as she spoke. "I don't know how much you know about the Tachikawa school of the Buddha's teachings?" She smiled at her companion's shake of the head. "It is an esoteric tradition that harnesses the left-hand tantra to control cosmic force."

"Left-hand tantra," muttered Raikou. "In other words—"

"Yes," said Kiara. "Sexual energy. The union of man and woman, to call down the union of the deity with his sacred consort, the world. By such means, the practitioner is placed in the centre of the mandala, the better to channel the divine into our souls."

She ran a finger slowly around the rim of her cup, but without the sensual movement she would normally have put in such a gesture. On this rare occasion, lust was not the reaction she wished to elicit. "I was born to the fifteenth head of the Tachikawa. From my tenderest girlhood, my path was set. My mind turned towards the teachings of our great founder, as my body was offered as a vessel for the divine."

She looked up at the other, and saw something dark and hard in Raikou's eyes alongside the flames. It pleased her, even as she allowed herself a little shiver. "I would not trouble you with all that I underwent, so that I could better bring salvation to our people. However, as one woman to another… know that you are not alone in being unable to bear children."

She took a deep breath, then took hold of Raikou's hand, gently pressing their fingers together. "Children are not needed for the joining of flesh. No, rather they are a detriment, for they take the parents' attention from the needs of the many, in favour of the one. So…" She tightened her grip just a little bit. "...measures were taken, to ensure that I would always direct compassion outwards. That I would, without fail, become a bastion for all beings."

She saw anger flare up in the Berserker's eyes, as she had expected. But the sudden flare of bitter resentment in her own breast took her by surprise, even as it flooded her mouth with the acrid taste of horehound. A memory floated up from the sepia vaults of her memory, where she rarely set foot without need.

She was thirteen, sitting in the hospital bed and clutching her book while her guardian spoke over her head with the surgeon. Discussing the operation and what it would mean for her, as if she wasn't even there.

It wasn't that Kiara didn't want to help people. Of course she did, she could see the sadness in their shoulders when they shuffled into her room, the hope dawn in their eyes as they spoke of all she could do for them, once it was permitted. She wanted to reach out and help every one of them. And yet… she found herself looking out the window, towards the parking lot below. A little boy was clutching his mother's arm as they walked along the black pavement, and she felt something painful in her chest, more painful than the sickness eating away at her. Even if she wasn't sure she wanted a little one of her own, shouldn't—

"... shouldn't I have been allowed to choose?" she said, then blinked as she realized she said it aloud.

She closed her eyes and sighed. After all this time, she had been sure the wound had finally closed. But as soon as she had allowed it the merest footfall into her conscious mind, it had burst in, hot and ugly as ever. The old outrage, that even this would be taken away from her—

A selfish thought, one unsuited to a bodhisattva. But for all the discomfort it brought her, perhaps there had been a silver lining to letting it slip. For Raikou was staring at her intensely now, as if she had never truly seen her before.

Well, I did say it earlier. A truth is the most convincing sort of connection. And if she wanted to save Raikou from her confusion, from her denial of self, then opening herself up to this pain was necessary. No, more than a duty, it should be seen as a pleasure.

She smiled at the Berserker again, taking her hands fully into hers. The other's skin was roughly calloused, the product of countless hours wrapped around the hilt of her sword, but it still sent a shiver of delight up running up her spine. She looked at Raikou, silently asking for permission. When the other merely nodded, she began to slowly stroke the skin, tracing patterns along the heat she could feel underneath.

"I cannot take away your pain," she finally said. "No more than you can take mine. But perhaps… we can at least take some comfort in each other."

"Comfort," repeated Raikou, in a voice as dark as night. Instead of softening, her entire body tensed, coiled as tightly as a wild animal. Their eyes met again, and the fire was back in the warrioress' eyes, so bright it could scald. "You would offer me comfort."

"Yes," said Kiara, and raised the Berserker's hand to her lips, ignoring the way it spasmed in her grip. She pressed a single kiss upon the knuckles, letting it linger. "Even… release from your needs, should you desire it."

"Knowing full well what I am? You would still allow me to touch you?"

"Nothing would bring me more pleasure," she said, and meant it. "Please, indulge yourself in my body as you see fit."

Raikou nodded, letting her gaze fall appreciatively along the length of Kiara's body. Her eyes darkened as they danced along the soft swell of her breasts, before coming down to rest on the yoni that bisected her torso, shocking pink in a way designed to trap the roaming eye.

"My, what a bold reminder of what you hide below, if barely," she said, the mischief in her voice at odds with the hunger in her eyes. "Was the Tachikawa school not fond of subtlety?"

"Subtlety can have its place," said Kiara. She ran a finger along the side of her face. "Perhaps if we were still wearing our masks, we could pretend to be proper lovers." She laughed, letting each note hang like silver gossamer in the air. "We could hide ourselves behind manners and propriety, then tenderly push past them as we grew closer."

She shifted her legs slowly and deliberately, sliding her robes back to fully expose her hips. They were still caged by the bright magenta lace of her undergarments, but her core was almost fully exposed. She could feel the other's gaze settle on it with laser intensity, and with it a most welcome heat spreading in her pelvis. "But subtlety is not needed here. You don't need to pretend to be the shy maiden, or the gentle mother. I see you—all of you, Minamoto-no-Raikou, Ushi-Gozen—and I welcome you."

She ran her fingers invitingly over her body, starting at the swell of her breasts and drawing them languidly down her exposed belly. Dark eyes followed every motion, eagerly following the dance of skin on skin. And now a wild scent was filling her nose, the metallic smell of gathering thunderclouds. But underneath it, her trained senses picked up the familiar earthy musk of arousal. Kiara's own flared in response as she imagined rough hands pinning her down, and she couldn't help but lick her lips in anticipation.

"Your hunger, your lust," she breathed, "Everything that you are. Share it with me."

She had barely finished her words when Raikou launched herself at her, closing the distance with frightening speed. Strong hands locked onto her, the black fabric of fingerless gloves scraping against the exposed skin of her shoulders.

She shivered against them, but out of anticipation rather than fear. She had been grabbed and mauled by countless past lovers as they spent their rage and lust on her. And every time she had walked away, whole and complete in spite of their best efforts to claim her, or destroy her if they couldn't. Such victories were her true triumph, even above the pleasure she had taught her flesh to wring from every encounter.

The thought made her grin as she was pushed to the ground, almost knocking the breath out of her. The coarse material of the carpet rasped against her robes as Raikou settled possessively over her, pinning her in place with both her physical body and the sheer force of her presence. She could feel Raikou's generous breasts pushing against hers even through the layers of cloth between them, their pillowy softness at odds with the iron muscles caging her in on each side.

"Please," she whispered, and relished the throaty growl she received in return.

One hand slipped under her robes, caressing her hips before pausing along the edge of the lingerie. Deft fingers played along the cloth's edge, before firmly grabbing it.

"You won't be needing these anymore," said Raikou with a dark chuckle.

There was a curious sound, the whisper of a blade against grass, then Kiara felt a sharp tug around her hips. Her undergarments came away in the Berserker's hand, letting cool air hit her overheated core.

"Or this, for that matter."

Raikou's hands trailed upwards, and she could feel points trailing along the soft flesh of her belly, hard and sharp. She glanced down to see that her companion's—no, lover now—nails had become small talons, grotesque against the elegant fingers that housed them. The front of her dress was cleanly sliced through and tugged off, freeing her breasts to that hungry gaze.

Rough hands immediately palmed them, kneading her flesh with deliberate, torturous slowness. Kiara's breath hitched as she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the sensations. She gasped against the insistent pressure of those hot palms squeezing her mounds, coupled with the cold dance of talons as they brushed against her sensitive peaks. It felt dangerous, knowing they could slice into her at any moment, and with that came a thrill that sent lightning down every nerve, until it felt like the merest touch might make them sing.

Then a knee was thrust between her thighs, parting them roughly as Raikou pressed herself down on her. The shock of warm flesh against hers told her that the other Servant had dissolved her clothing without a second thought. That boldness pleased Kiara, even if their close embrace meant it would be some time before she could fully appreciate the view. What she could see was certainly tantalizing enough; lean muscles moved powerfully under the Berserker's taut skin as she moved herself up Kiara's body, her points sliding deliciously against along hers.

Kiara took a deep, shuddering breath as Raikou ground her thigh mercilessly against her slick folds, roughly glancing against her clit. Not enough, it wasn't enough, and she found herself arching her back, desperate for more contact against that sensitive bundle of nerves. The air was thick with the scent of her lover's arousal, the familiar musky smell edged with rain and thunder. It invaded her nostrils, settled in her belly and loins to set them ablaze. She threw her arms around Raikou's neck, burying her hands in tresses like rough silk as she pulled her closer against her.

And now her lover's lips were whispering up her neck, pressing open mouthed kisses against the tender skin. Kiara sighed in bliss as Raikou applied more pressure to her rocking, grinding them together in an ecstasy of sensation. Now their lips would meet, and the Berserker would roughly bite her bottom lip, just enough to claim—

Kiara screamed as sharp teeth were suddenly driven into her throat. Every nerve screamed in white-hot pain as Raikou ruthlessly bit in deeper. Blood welled up around the wound, hot and sticky. Her blood, Kiara thought distantly as she thrashed futilely against the iron grip locking her down.

Then Raikou suddenly pulled back, gore dripping from her chin as she sat up to consider her prey. Her grin was a feral crescent, her eyes glinting with promised violence. The metallic tang of blood and thunder choked Kiara's nostrils.

"Did you think you lured me here, Heaven's Hole?" the Berserker rumbled at her, the smoldering fire in her eyes now a fever blaze. "Coax me into your cunt, collar me with my lust?"

She raked her talons across Kiara's bare chest and belly, living a trail of bleeding gashes across her flesh. Agony followed, burning deeply into her flesh. Kiara leaned into it, knowing that accepting the physical sensation would turn all that pain to sweet pleasure, the—

—the surgeon's scalpel was slicing along her stomach, and it hurt, it hurt. They told her she would sleep through it, so why did it hurt please make it stop where was Sister Kiyomi father anyone it hurts please stop—

Kiara shook herself and forced down the sudden flood of memories, more harrowing than the claws lacerating her. Reopening that deep wound earlier appeared to have left it hypersensitive, pulling up thoughts and feelings from a long-ago mortal life, entirely unsuited to the enlightened being she had become.

A bodhisattva of passion enjoyed such treatment, she sternly reminded her mind and flesh. She enjoyed gifting her body to others, in any way they wished of her. If this was what Raikou needed to bring her closer to passionate oblivion, then Kiara would revel in it as well.

With that thought, the familiar bliss settled back over her.

There was a hoarse growl as Raikou shook her. She was staring down at her with a predator's intensity. "This is my hunt. I will crush the insect that means to swallow my son."

Even now, she clings to her mask. Kiara couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity, small giggles that soon turned into merry laughter. Even as her chest heaved with it, she fully expected those talons to wrap around her neck, crush it while the other howled her outrage.

But to her surprise, nothing happened. She glanced up at Raikou's face, to find the Berserker staring down at her with dark amusement.

"Do you think Master can simply resummon you? If so, you're very much mistaken," she purred, dark and sinful as only a fell-beast could. "The hunger of oni devours not just the flesh, but the soul. I'll rend your Saint Graph to pieces and swallow every bite, until even the concept of you is banished from this Chaldea."

Raikou pressed her talons down into the wounds she'd already opened in Kiara's stomach, tearing them open a little bit wider. A deeper pain lanced through the Alter Ego, dull and throbbing until it threatened to cloud out all reason. If she were a human, she would undoubtedly have fainted with it. As it was, she was fully conscious to (cry and scream) enjoy every delicious morsel of torment.

She smiled, soft lavender through the crimson of her pain. "If… if you merely wished me dead, you could have already done so. So there is... ahh!... there is passion here after all. How wonderful, fufu—"

Her laughter gave way to a gasping cough, blood rasping up her throat to fill her mouth with iron before spilling in trails from her trembling lips.

"I am a child of oni," growled Raikou, "and an oni craves not only flesh and blood to devour, but women to fuck; to break. It's been far too long since I've had one."

Her taloned hand ran down the curve of Kiara's body, cutting long scratches in their wake. She gripped her ass with sudden force, squeezing it hard enough to hurt. Again the girl in the hospital bed whimpered, and again Kiara drowned her out with a moan of pleasure.

"Then break me, Ushi-Gozen," she gasped, fixing the beast above her with a sultry look. "Taste of my flesh, drink my blood as your wine. Only…" She shuddered through the fresh wave of sensation, her sex dripping with arousal to match the blood weeping from her wounds, spurred on by the knee still grinding relentlessly against her. "Only not too far. For Master needs monsters to protect him too, from the things heroes can't bear to see."

Raikou only grinned at her. "He has plenty of monsters for that," she said. "He does not need one that is constantly plotting his fall into corruption."

She removed her knee from Kiara's thighs, leaving her whimpering in unmet need. Then the Berserker snarled as she thrust herself forward, forcing their lower lips together in savage motion. Slippery flesh forced itself against Kiara's own, as brutal as any invading cock.

Hot hands forcing her legs further apart, carelessly scoring new lines on her tender flesh. Growls and curses in her ear, as Raikou relentlessly ground herself against her with all a demon's fury. The smell of blood spilled on the earth, a heady musk to cloud her exhausted brain. It was electricity arcing through her body, burning her with pain but also carrying her to new heights of ecstasy.

Distantly, she realized that she was becoming light-headed, her blood pulled thin between her injuries and her cresting desire. She didn't care. She needed more of this, pain and pleasure intertwined, no matter what the girl said.

Kiara leaned her head back, fully exposing her throat to the demon working her with devouring passion. She glanced up through eyes half-lidded with pleasure. For a moment she thought she saw a shadow stretching up above her, great horns in the dim light. Then fangs were viciously sunk into her neck again, seeking the vein that had already been torn open. She sighed and trembled as a hot tongue descended on the tattered skin, eagerly lapping up the warm blood.

I'm going to die here. The girl again, shivering from her bed across oceans of time and space.

No matter, Kiara told her. I died as the Beast of Pleasure, but now I have returned in another existence. If death indeeds awaits me at this supplicant's claws, then it is but another step in the long road to the great redemption.

But still the girl inside her wept. I don't want to die here. I don't want this taken away from me. Why can't I ever choose?

Kiara unconsciously opened her mouth to reply when she felt Raikou's lips abruptly move away from her. She opened her eyes to find the other woman's tongue licking the blood from her face, the motion desperate rather than sensual. The fire had dimmed in the warrioress' eyes, her furious motions slowing as she stared down at Kiara with an expression close to wonder. With it came some of the human, softening the furious scowl of the demon.

Kiara felt the gnawing teeth of disappointment, even as the girl wept in relief.

The Raikou snarled and redoubled her assault. "More," she groaned, even as she pressed herself harder into Kiara, sending white hot waves of arousal crashing through her as her insides trembled violently against that invading flesh. "I can't see with just this," growled the Berserker.

Suddenly she reached down and grabbed Kiara's hand, brought it to her dripping mouth. The deva offered no resistance, even as she guessed what was to come.

Strong teeth clamped around her finger and bit down hard. Searing agony burst from the digit as it was bitten clean through, the bone splintering with a sickening crack. Still Kiara smiled, coaxing each screaming nerve to sing instead in pleasure. She willed it so, held the crying girl in her arms and soothed her, even as she watched the Berserker openly savour the crunch of bone between her teeth.

Resolve to find pleasure in all things, and nothing will hurt. Everything will flow into me, until all beings are one within the maw of Paradise. Steadily the girl relaxed again in Kiara's arms, sank back into the sepia sea of memories, as the deva kept whispering to her. I can take pleasure even from my destruction, if that is what a soul requires from me. This is salvation, which I grant to all who wish it, my body an instrument for their pleasure. Ahh, there is nothing greater than to watch all beings melt together in ecstasy.

The litany of salvation flowed from her soul into her heaving body, igniting flesh already driven half-mad from the sensations coursing through it. Her release crashed over her in a wave of nova-white, leaving her gasping on the far shore of consciousness.

She panted as she let herself collapse into a pool of her own robes, soaked with sweat and blood. Salvation, she thought with a satisfied smile as she let the echoes of its voice whisper over her battered and broken body.

Distantly she felt Raikou pull herself from her, a sticky wet sound as sweat-slicked skin was peeled from hers. She lay still, opening herself to whatever would happen next. Perhaps the Berserker would wrap her hands around her ruined neck and squeeze out whatever life was left. Many had tried in the past, but perhaps this attempt would finally succeed. More likely, the other Servant would simply leave her there to bleed out.

There was a grunt, and the sound of tearing flesh. Kiara blinked as she realized it was not her own. Then something firm and warm was being pressed lightly against her parted lips.

She opened her eyes to find Raikou leaning over her, holding out a bleeding wrist. Droplets of blood, bright as jewels, steadily dripped from a ragged gash.

"Drink," said Raikou. Her eyes still danced between human and oni as they stared down at her; fury with control, hunger with reason. They held an invitation that even Kiara could not fully discern.

"Why?" she whispered, the words thick against her swollen tongue. She'd had many lovers cut her, bleed her, gulp down her life essence as if they could thus somehow trap her inside them. She had others force theirs down her throat, hoping to somehow claim her, bind her to them. But this was the first time she'd had it simply offered, with no insistent in either direction. Given a choice.

She felt something lurch in her stomach, an unfamiliar discomfort.

Raikou sighed, sounding tired. It did not fit at all with the passionate fury that had so recently crashed itself against the bodhisattva.

"I was going to kill you, you know," she murmured, just loudly enough for Kiara to hear. "Until I tasted her in your blood. You told me the truth, didn't you? About the Tachikawa, and the medicine sellers and all the rest. About what they did to you."

Kiara looked mutely at her, for once at a loss for words. After a moment, she found herself whispering, "It happened a long time ago, to someone else."

"Yes," agreed the Berserker, moving back a little to settle on her haunches. "You are not her. Heaven's Hole is not a mask you wear, but the true Kiara Sessyoin."

Kiara raised herself a little, only to be gently pushed back down Raikou's other hand upon her shoulders.

"But a remnant of that girl remains in you. The girl that thought she might want to be a mother, if she had been allowed to choose. Let us form a pact, then. For the sake of that girl."

Raikou offered her wrist again, crimson-bright even in the darkness of the storm-enclosed room.

Kiara blinked, and for a moment she saw the mask settle back on Raikou's face, the visage of the warm and protective mother. Tinted in slaughter-red instead of soft pink and gold, but no less beautiful for it.

"A pact," repeated Kiara, her eyes still locked with the other's, shining gold against the last traces of purple in charred black.

"You wish to bring me salvation? Then first feel the demonic hunger of oni, as I have seen the lonely girl helplessly searching for lost stars." She pressed her wound against Kiara's lips, and she could taste heated metal in her mouth. "A pact, to accept what we are. My demon blood, your buried remnant. Around each other, there is no need to hide. Not my monstrosity, nor your foolishness."

"Take my solitude, as I take your loneliness. And whenever our facades become too much, we can return here. Wallow in the darkness until we are satisfied." She grinned, the feral smile of the oni returning to her bloodstained lips. "What do you say, Heaven's Hole?"

Kiara laughed, even as the agony flared anew in her body. "Oh my. Is this a marriage proposal?" she giggled, her hoarse throat turning it into a rasp instead of her usual silver.

"Fufu, why not?" said Raikou. "We understand each other, after all."

Kira reached upward, closed her fingers around Raikou's hand. The blood was burning hot everywhere her skin brushed against it. The sea of life, she thought to herself, from the very first stirrings in the womb, we are submerged in it.

"We do not share the same goal, you know," she murmured as she pulled the hand down towards her face. "You wish to protect Master at all costs. I want to drag down his noble heart and drown him in corrupted passion."

"Mmm," said Raikou. "We cannot change what we are. And one day, we very well may kill each other. But for now, I wish to stay here a little longer. Together."

"Ah, the joining of a holy woman and a child of hell. Truly a blessed day," said Kiara, stretching herself languidly against the ruined carpet. She raised her hands to cradle Raikou's face. As she did, she caught a glance of the hanging arms of her tattered robes. They were splattered in red, great crimson blooms against the once pristine white cloth. Flowers for the wedding, she thought with a smile, before covering the seething wound with her mouth.

Raikou's blood tasted like heated metal and burned like fire against her lips and tongue, making her yelp as it sizzled down her mouth and throat. But after the initial shock came warmth, soft and comfortable, spreading from her belly to the very tips of her toes. Hunger too, pooling again in her core and setting it alight with renewed flame.

"Ahhh," she rejoiced, "Now you are truly in the palm of my hand, Minamoto-no-Raikou, Ushi-Gozen. I shall never let you escape."

"As I shall keep you in my claws," agreed Raikou, "No matter what furrows I must dig in your flesh to hold you."

And as Ushi-Gozen closed the distance between them again, took her again in a dance of violence and tenderness, Kiara could smell the heavy blood scent swirling around them. The scent of the womb, of the children that neither would ever carry, of choices torn ruthlessly away by uncaring fate. But at least there was company, down in that metallic darkness, for as long as they reached for it.