i hardly have time for anything nowadays but after reading chapter 92 i was struck by dat plot bunny

TW: sexual assault (due to the scene in chapter 92)

this chapter is SFW.

i wrote this over the course of a frenzied night & morning, so plz let me know if you find errors.

& enjoy ^_^)

Chapter 92.5

Part 1

The Tomoe carrying me right now

is not the Tomoe of the present

but the demon of 500 years ago

but

he has the same smell

Her mind raced. Her arms dangled out, stiff with poison. Tomoe's hair, long and white, brushed her face as he moved on, and she felt the warmth of his shoulder prodding against her belly. Finally, Tomoe was here. Living, breathing, here.

And not here. Her numbed throat didn't cry out when she was was thrown on the floor. Tomoe crawled over her, heavy and hot and hard-handed.

"Look at me." When his voice met her ears, her heart leaped with exuberance and panic.

Tomoe!

Tomoe — of 500 years ago. The Tomoe that had torn the collar of her clothing when she had first met him in the past, and was doing it again now, pulling at her clothing, going further, touching her skin.

I'm scared. I'm scared, and... She couldn't tell — couldn't tell if she was excited or terrified. Her skin prickled with fires that he set casually across her body.

"Hey. Look at me."

Somewhere in her heart, there was a part of her that didn't refuse his touch— a part that had longed for him, for his warmth and touched, for months, even before he had fallen ill in modern times. If only she could move, and embrace him back — she felt her body shudder in hot waves as he wrapped his hands in her hair. She felt it prickle with cold and delighted panic as he revealed her. Is this really happening? It felt so good. Slowly he was coming into focus and she wanted to see him. Her longing for him had been swollen in his absence and now that Tomoe was here, here, here, it had burst and become something desperate and hungry. It didn't matter if it was the Tomoe of the past or of modern times, this was the Tomoe she liked, the Tomoe that —

"Look at me, Yukiji."

Yukiji.

Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were glassy with tears and all at once his vigor and delight at having found her deflated. He stopped and stared back with confusion and dismay and something strong and new that stabbed him and made him reel.

She was just a human. What had he been thinking — dragging her around like this, when he knew humans were so easily broken — their bones like twigs you could break just by stepping wrong, their skin no better than the skin of ripened peaches. Had he hurt her already? What if she was in pain —

"...se," came a sound from her trembling mouth, and he fixed his ears forward to hear her better. "Please..."

Yukiji. That's right. This was not the Tomoe she had fallen in love with — the Tomoe who could make doing laundry into an art form, who presented her with teasing smiles, who laughed on roller coasters. That Tomoe did not exist yet.

And, soon, might cease to exist forever.

Misery flooded her, shouldered past the poison's numbness to pour out of her. Tomoe grew blurry again, indistinct. She couldn't believe the shallow, stupid simplicity of the jealousy that she'd felt before, when Tomoe smiled at other women. She couldn't believe the immature, stupid happiness she had had when Tomoe smiled at her. He didn't care about them. It was Yukiji for whom he would trade his long demon's life for a short one that he could spend with her. It was Yukiji that he loved — would love — would forget about loving, to spare his demon's heart. The beautiful, brave, and kind Yukiji. The person Nanami was not.

And if Tomoe died, she would never have the chance for him to really see her.

"Don't look at me," she managed, through poison and tears. "My face — looks horrible — don't look at me —"

How could she have dared to be so happy to see him? This Tomoe wasn't hers. The realization wracked her with noisy grief. At loss, Tomoe readjusted her clothing. Then drew her toward him, haltingly.

"Don't cry like that," he murmured. He felt her shake against him and clutch his robes and he held her more tightly, as if it could quell her shaking. Did he really break her? Her voice came out in gasps, much different than the whispers he had heard when he was "ill." He remembered how her soft voice had calmed him in the haze of his healing; but when she cried...

"When you cry, it puts my thoughts out of order..." He held her head, ears flicking as she wept onto his shoulder. Each tear brought her further away from poison and closer to composure. Her thoughts pulled free of the part inside her that had leaped at Tomoe's touch. She inhaled deeply, her breath growing steady.

She needed to remember, firstly, that this was not Tomoe.

Secondly, she was not Nanami.

And, finally: she had a job to do.

Sniffling, she pulled away from him and dabbed her eyes on her wet kimono sleeves. "Okay," she told herself, "okay," and she backed away, and stood.

"Are you okay?" Tomoe asked.

"Yes," she told him, "I'm okay." But when he reached for her, she pulled away, stumbling back on her slightly-numb legs.

"No. Don't touch me."

He flattened his ears. "Why?" he demanded, and was startled when the woman before him snapped back, "Isn't it obvious? You dropped me on the ground! That hurt! And you were going to —"

Her face flushed. Tomoe was glaring at her, with eyes she couldn't recognize, filled with fury that made her shake inside. This was not the Tomoe that Nanami knew. Nanami had never had to stand up to a Tomoe like this, who had blood on his hands, and even less compassion for humans than he had had in modern times.

But...maybe Yukiji had.

She steeled her voice and continued. "You were going to take advantage of me. And I won't allow that."

Her voice still staggered with tears, but it was strong and he was shocked that it could come out of a mere human. This was not the calm voice he had heard from her, nor the crying one, but something different. She spoke to him like Akura-ou — like she thought of herself as his equal. He remembered the bright glare of the woman he had met that rainy day and smiled. For the first time in days the debilitating boredom that had gripped him retreated.

This was really interesting.

"What will you allow, then?"

"I'll allow you," she said, "to apologize," and Tomoe's smile faded.

"Me? Apologize to a mere human?" he sneered.

So the Tomoe that she knew was further away than she thought. Nanami looked at him sadly, then shook her head.

"Fine. Goodbye," she announced, and started towards the door of the little hut.

"Wait," Tomoe said as she reached the door, and she forced herself to ignore him.

"Wait!" he shouted, and this time she heard him coming toward her and she turned around and snarled, "Don't touch me."

His hand — the outstretched claws — fell before her glare. He was confused. She was leaving? How could he stop her? Stop her without hurting her, which he knew by her humanity was easy to do, despite all the strength flaring out of her. He wanted her here. But even if he carefully dragged her back, her voice wouldn't be warm anymore — it would be filled with those tears, or this anger — and the thought of that made his chest ache.

"You owe me," he told her, "I saved you," and he was taken aback when she laughed.

"I saved you first, To" — she shook her head — "No, fox. As far as I'm concerned, you no longer owe me."

She turned back toward the door. He started again. "What if Akura-ou finds you? He'll kill you. You won't have a chance! You're just a human!"

She didn't bother answering him this time, just kept walking into the rain-filled dark. Into the forest, where demons would smell her, and eat her — where cruel human men could easily overpower her — where even a simple snake no longer than his arm could bite her, and fill her with poison that could kill a human in a heartbeat, or less —

"Stop!" he shouted, and flushed with shame at the begging in his voice. And still she ignored him.

One last thing to try. "I'm sorry." The words felt like spitting up rocks. And still she walked.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, and this time she stopped advancing.

"For what?" she demanded, turning back, and he steeled himself, made fists.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you." He realized he was telling the truth. He continued. "I won't do it again. I vow that I won't." Please just stay.

"Don't do it again," she told him, "to anyone," and he could no longer imagine why he'd ever want to.

"Never. I'm sorry," he added again, for good measure, and to his relief Nanami nodded.

"I forgive you." She smiled at him, beautifully. Relief flooded him, and awe. Her smile gave her voice a shape that was musical. The tightness in his chest lightened; the rain falling on him suddenly felt soothing and soft.

And then she turned away again.

"You're still going?" he said in shock.

"I have important things to do," she said. Like save you, hundreds of years from now.

"I'm going to come with you," he decided, to which she said fiercely, "No."

The last thing she needed was to give him any ideas about who he could ask when he wanted to become human.

"Then at least wait until the rain stops," he pleaded. "Yukiji."

The name stopped her. She looked back. Tomoe stood there, his long hair ropy with water, his fiery robes dropping and heavy. His face was pleading and bewildered, and affection swelled up in her. She had never seen the modern Tomoe with such a pitiful look. And she knew, seeing him, that this was the first time in his life that his heart was stirring and aching with feelings of love.

She considered, brow furrowing. What was Yukiji supposed to do here? One wrong move and Nanami might ruin her chances at meeting Tomoe in the future. Tomoe had to fall in love with Yukiji. How could she make his heart ache more?

"It won't hurt to wait a little," she decided, and smiled when he saw Tomoe's ears perk.