(Baby, I'm the) Wolf

by Pimpim

Summary:

Kunikuzushi, who fills his empty chest with pleasure and riches, finds his heart reluctantly bloom, nurtured by the blood of a boy bought for coin.

Notes:

You are never gonna believe it, but I found a song that inspired me, so the disaster tale (that I ended up falling in love with) is back!

If you are new here, I need to emphasise that this story is not meant to be read without reading the first work of this series. I'm not saying that you can't, but there is less dialogue among other aspects that can alter the understanding of the story and pacing.

This is, in every sense, the same story as Dog (Stop Breathing Please), but we get it from Kazuha's pov, and I can't stress enough that this is the victim of a lot of violence's pov. Don't skip the tags, stay safe and mindful of what you want to read!

This is PURELY a work of FICTION, and if it's not your cup of tea, then DON'T consume it. The tags are there for a reason.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

The air was filled with filth. What had once been clear was dulled in red. And what had once been clean was poison.

 

Kazuha closed his eyes. He couldn’t shut the smell out, aphrodisiacs filling his every sense. It wasn’t as potent here in his cage, but Kazuha could still smell it. He could practically see the red smoke underneath the door. The only source of light in this darkness.

 

He couldn’t see, but he could hear. Muffled laughs. Someone was crying. Another one moaning in bliss. Kazuha shut it out. He wanted the dark to envelop him in silence. Drown out the smells and the noises. Give him the sweet relief of silence.

 

Kazuha adjusted his position, his bound hands making it hard to move his shoulders. He’d been doing his best to slip out of his restrains, but they had tied it harder this time. But the rope that had originally cut deep into his wrists was looser now. Not loose enough to slip out. Just enough for wiggle room. Maybe enough to try again.

 

Kazuha wasn’t used to killing, but hearing bones snap beneath his hands had been a satisfying sound. Every cornered animal was dangerous. Kazuha knew that much. A caught animal was desperate. A caught beast wouldn’t hesitate to gnaw its limbs off.

 

Kazuha couldn’t risk that much, and before he could break his own thumb to give himself a better chance, the door to the back room opened. Red smoke seeped in, spreading in the draft. Kazuha instinctively pushed his back closer to the back of his confinement. He couldn’t get away from the poison. It mixed with the air he breathed, making it impossible to evade.

 

The cage door opened, and hands reached for him. Kazuha tried to move out of reach, but the hands found him anyway, forcing him out. With a strong grip on his arms, they dragged him out of the dark room. It didn’t matter how much weight Kazuha put on his heels, the two strong men on either side of him somehow always made do, forcing Kazuha along.

 

As he continued to dig his heels into the ground, he wondered how it had come to this. They held him hard since he’d run if they let him go. His hands were bound because he could — and would — kill to break free. He was locked up here because to the people he loved — he was worth nothing.

 

So he needed a way out. He’d struggle, fight and carefully study their surroundings, so the second he got loose, Kazuha would be out of here. One slip-up from his captors and Kazuha would be gone.

 

They stopped, all out of breath from the short walk that had been nothing but a struggle for the two men trying to move him. He could hear them talk over his head. They were arguing over their orders. Wash Kazuha up and get him changed. Neither of the men was willing to untie Kazuha, and without doing so, changing his clothing wasn’t possible. They passed options between them, both unwilling, both claiming the other had gotten the order and was therefore the one who should make sure the job would get done.

 

Kazuha laughed. It was a tired, raspy sound full of malice. One of the men found his hair, forcing Kazuha’s head up.

 

“What’s so funny?” The man asked. If Kazuha’s voice was filled with bitterness and irony, this man’s words were laced with poison. Kazuha didn’t care, he couldn’t hide a triumphant smile.

 

“Too scared?” He asked, and the man’s eyes went dark. Good, Kazuha thought. Punch me. Let anger rule reason, and I’ll get my chance to escape. Kazuha just needed to push another few buttons. Taunt them further and their fury would be upon him. If that wasn’t the kind of opportunity he needed, then what was?

 

“Any issues?” came a voice, and whatever had been brewing between the three men died in an instant. Annoyed, Kazuha turned his head to see the owner of the voice. A small man with a bony stature. His hair was unkept and filthy, but the man’s clothing told another story. It wasn’t the same rags as the men to Kazuha’s side. This was the man who called the shots. Kazuha had never seen him before, only heard his angry little voice through closed doors.

 

“You told us never to untie him,” one of the men answered. His words lingered, like there was more to be said, but the words he’d spoken spoke for themselves. The owner stared at the three for a long time, contemplating their options.

 

“Can’t you just untie him enough to tie him up?”

 

Kazuha scoffed, almost wanting them to try, but the man to his side shook his head. “You saw what happened to Kabayama. I’m not taking a single risk with this one.”

 

The owner walked over, taking Kazuha’s face in one bony hand, studying him. “You know where he’s going, don’t you?” he asked, and the silence that followed told Kazuha that they were all aware. All but Kazuha. What did this mean? Where were they planning to take him? Instinct made him try to pry his head away, but the little man dug his fingers into his jaw.

 

“I tried to convince him this one was nothing but a cur, but he insisted.”

 

Kazuha’s gaze bore into the beady eyes of the other. Whatever he spoke about, Kazuha wouldn’t let it happen. He knew what this place was. Despite waking up in the dark, he knew well. He’d heard it through the walls. The erotic breathing. The violence. A place where people came to buy what they could not get at home. Kazuha didn’t belong here. No one would lay a finger on him.

 

“Let him have him,” the man concluded after a brief silence. “He’ll deal with you.” The last words were spoken to Kazuha alone. A promise. It wouldn’t come to that. If he couldn’t break free on his way to wherever he was going, he would kill whoever tried to put their hands on him, and then he’d be out of here. He was a warrior, who was supposed to hold him down?

 

They gave up on the idea of washing him, and his own clothing still acted as his armour as they continued further into the establishment. They struggled to get Kazuha up a set of stairs. Then another one. Every staircase they struggled through made Kazuha realise that a good escape route was slowly creeping further and further out of his reach. If his hands remained bound, he couldn’t climb, which made an escape through a window impossible. Not this far up.

 

By the third set of stairs, Kazuha knew he had to get free now. It was his only chance.

 

Using the tilt of the stairs to his advantage, Kazuha sidestepped, tripping one of the men. They stumbled, loosening their grip of Kazuha’s arm. Kazuha twisted, giving the man a heavy shove, sliding free of his grip. Something broke in the stairwell, but Kazuha didn’t care. He’d moved to deal with his other captor, but they were ready for him, quick to catch Kazuha’s free arm, and use his own tricks against him, tip his balance and force him to the floor. Kazuha tried to fight it, but the man forced his head down the red carpet like he wanted to crush his skull in.

 

“Fucking hell, Antei, what are you doing?”

 

The man who tripped had tumbled down the few steps they passed. Kazuha could see him get up as well as investigate his bloodied arm. He was annoyed. Kazuha was furious. He’d been so close that for a second, none seemed to be holding him. None had been in his way. Only these stupid ropes that still cut into his irritated skin.

 

“Get your shit together for a second, will you? We’re almost there.”

 

Kazuha didn’t like the sound of that, doing his utmost to struggle as much as he could as they hauled him up from the floor and continued forward. Another opening almost had him slipping away again, but these men were stronger than his first guards. Alert.

 

Before they arrived, they began talking to him again, saying how they wished he would suffer. How they were happy he was picked for this, since whoever was, did not always come back. That they would be right outside, hoping to hear his torment.

 

Kazuha tried to shut it out. But the second they stood face to face with a wide door, he allowed fear to grip him. Whatever was beyond those doors wasn’t good. There was no way anyone would put their hands on him. That much was certain. So he struggled, more than he had before. None would have the pleasure of revelling in his misfortune.

 

The door was kicked open, and Kazuha was shoved in. He managed to keep himself upright, but as the doors closed behind him. Kazuha held his gaze on the floor.

 

This was a bedroom. Not for sleeping in, but still containing little else but a bed. Someone was on the bed, but Kazuha hadn’t bothered to look. Not as the doors opened and not now, as they had come face to face.

 

The others only called whomever this was — him. As if mentioning him by name wasn’t needed.

 

Shuffling told him that whoever he was, he was getting closer. When Kazuha could see a delicate hand reach for him, Kazuha moved out of the way, snarling to the stranger to stay away.

 

It was the first time their eyes met.

 

His, deep and alluring. His face, the fairest Kazuha had ever laid eyes on. Perfect. In every way. For a split second, he took Kazuha’s breath away.

 

Then a viscous smile spread his beautiful lips, and he moved, almost like smoke, fluorescent and gentle. But the slender hand caught his chin in a strong grip, stronger than the owner’s, forcing Kazuha to raise his head and face him properly.

 

Kazuha had felt his stomach drop as those nails dug into his skin. This man was strong. He’d put one hand on him and already had Kazuha under his control. It frightened him to his core, a cold sensation caressing his skin as the man’s gaze travelled down his body.

 

Whatever words left the other, Kazuha was not about to be used like some common whore. He was a samurai. He would not be thrown around as someone saw fit. Every word spoken by the beautiful man made Kazuha want to bite him. His tied hands left him helpless, but a tied-up dog could still bite.

 

But he got no chance to, and before he knew it, he was practically on a leash. He’d been forced towards the bed, and not until the ribbon around his neck tied his airflow, if only for a second, did he truly feel how helpless he was. The purple beddings were a dark mass ready to swallow him whole. Devour him like he feared this man would. Kazuha didn’t want any of this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He silently cursed whatever he’d done to deserve this. The emotions inside him swelled, threatening to spill over.

 

But he couldn’t show fear. If this had to be a battlefield, he would not waver.

 

When the other gave a command, even one as simple as “get on the bed,” Kazuha did not move an inch. He would resist. It didn’t matter if he got hurt in the process. He still felt a sense of pride, and he did not cower in the face of pain. He’d never forgive himself if he gave in now.

 

But fear was a hard feeling to control. His mouth was dry like he’d eaten sand. His hands fought against a tremble. Every time the man touched his skin, it left a cold chill. The man’s words were like water across his skin, they left him drenched in fear.

 

When the man pushed their hips together and whispered in his ear, Kazuha felt his strength waver. He wanted out. He didn’t want those cold hands on him. He didn’t want this man inside him. Like poison in his blood. A parasite forcing its way inside his body, infesting him.

 

Not until he was forced to bend over did what had been a reluctant truth become reality. He couldn’t help but struggle. The leash around his throat tightened. The threads of his shirt tore, exposing the bare skin of his back. Then his pants fell to the floor, exposing him fully.

 

Kazuha buried his face in the purple covers, hiding from the shame. From what was to come. The violation of his body that he was too powerless to hinder.

 

At the first intrusion, Kazuha’s body seemed to scream in objection. His arms urged to be free, to fight. The tight rope around his wrist cut deep, but not deep enough to distract him from the pain of the man’s fingers stretching him open. Any noise threatening to escape him was swallowed by the fabric beneath him.

 

But the covers couldn’t hide what came next. Clenched teeth and trembling limbs. The horrific feeling spread from his backside as the man pushed his cock inside him. Kazuha was being torn in two. Deep, heavy breathing wasn’t enough to take his mind from the pain and the pain and the pain and the pain.

 

Not even as the man cut his airflow and forced him to arch his back, feeling the man impossibly deeper inside him, could Kazuha think of anything besides the pain. Humiliation licked his spine. The ribbon held his neck almost with comfort as it cut into his delicate skin. His wrists were open, bleeding wounds.

 

When the man finally eased the pressure on his neck, he instead held him close, their bodies forced together, and Kazuha’s body used as leverage to fuck him harder. The man’s hands caressed his body, his touch like acid, burning through his skin and flesh and bones. Then there were teeth, continuing to take what Kazuha was unwilling to give.

 

Kazuha hated the feeling of the other man moving inside him. What he hadn’t expected was the sickening feeling as the other departed. The liquid trailing down his legs. Kazuha knew what it was, and it was disgusting. Kazuha could feel other’s gaze. Watching his bare ass and the semen leaking out of him. It should hurt Kazuha’s pride, but he moved his feelings of pride aside for one single emotion.

 

Inside his chest, there was only rage. A burning rage. He would fucking kill this man. For what he’d done. For the things he’d said. Kazuha didn’t care if he would have to suffer like this under a new man every night. As this man defiled him, he’d destroyed something within Kazuha. His pride was gone. His honour lost. The warrior he’d been had been refined to this. Just a body with the function to please.

 

At least the man had asked for his name. It didn’t matter that he didn’t use it. This man would know his name when he killed him one day. Kazuha hadn’t allowed his tears to fall or given the man the pleasure to hear him cry out in pain. He’d hidden it all, breathing hard not to let it show. His jaws ached from how hard he’d clenched them. He’d bit his tongue. Blood ran between his teeth.

 

As he slid down, nothing keeping him upright, he spat blood on the floor. Then, before the man could open the door, he said the words that had festered in his throat since their eyes first met.

 

Just barely, through the gaps of his bangs, could he see the man stop and turn his attention back to the mess that was now Kazuha.

 

“Speak up.” His voice was stern. The authority in his tone indisputable. It didn’t scare Kazuha who almost held back a smile.

 

“I’ll kill you,” he breathed out. Louder this time. It didn’t matter that the man laughed like it was the funniest joke he’d heard in all his life. It didn’t matter that he didn’t believe him. What mattered was that this was a promise, one Kazuha would keep.

 

One way or another.

 

Kazuha barely found the strength or capability to pull his pants up before his two captors entered the door the stranger had left. They laughed, throwing taunts his way. Kazuha let them pull him on his feet. He didn’t care for how they studied him and whatever they pointed out. He just let his head hang, trying to shut everything out as he was once more dragged across the brothel floor.

 

They untied him in the washing area and handed him a new set of clothing. Clothing a whore would wear. But that was all he was now, he reminded himself, still feeling the way the title had rubbed into his skin as a stranger hurt him.

 

They allowed him to wash himself, but the two men were just outside the door. There was no way he could escape in his state. They knew that much too. They’d joked about it, saying he got what he deserved. Asked how he felt knowing this was all he was now. Someone to be fucked when strangers wanted to. Kazuha’s life belonged to this establishment and whatever he was could be owned by strangers for coin.

 

It disguised him. Kazuha scrubbed hard, hoping to recognise his skin once more. He wanted the beautiful man’s touch gone. He couldn’t sit, a sharp pain piercing his body as he did. Washing off the blood, he figured the feeling of being forcefully split open wasn’t far from the truth. He would continue to bleed. Even the deep bite mark on his shoulder wouldn’t stop bleeding. But that was a wound that wouldn’t be forced open time and time again.

 

Kazuha rubbed his sore wrists in the ice-cold water. It burned. The skin was torn. Raw. Kazuha peeled the skin off, piece by piece, revealing red flesh beneath.

 

Kazuha cried then. Not because of the pain or what had been done to him. It was the realisation that this was all it was. This was where his life had taken him. What had he done to deserve this? If his life was of so little worth, then there was no one out there who loved him.

 

No one.

 

If Kazuha had managed to escape, he couldn’t have gone back home. He would have had nowhere to go. No one to turn to. No one but himself. And how much would that count for? When the next man put their cock in his ass and called him filth, would Kazuha be able to fight? After a week, would he still bleed, or would his body welcome the change to his life?

 

Kazuha looked down with blurry eyes at his naked body. The hurt and blue skin made him sick. Would he settle into this hell?

 

Kazuha couldn’t let that happen. He needed to get out. The man who forced himself on him today was strong. One day, someone else would come along. Someone Kazuha could take advantage of. He just needed to bide his time, play his role. Make them trust in him. When they least expected it, Kazuha would tear them apart.

 

As Kazuha got into the clothes of a man whose life belonged to everyone with the money to take it, he had already decided to play his part. Be the whore they wanted him to be.

 

Everything in the interest of survival.

 

And Kazuha wanted to live.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha hadn’t struggled or fought when they tied his hands behind his back. He hadn’t asked any questions as they led him out of the brothel and into a waiting cart. Three men kept him company, joining him on the cart that otherwise housed farmers’ goods, no doubt. Kazuha could still smell the wheat.

 

He’d been allowed to meet the other workers at the brothel. Since he wasn’t stirring up trouble, he was allowed to leave his cage and remain unbound. The men working as guards gave him stern looks when he passed, but none said anything.

 

The men and women at the brothel were unlike what Kazuha had expected. Although they sold their bodies and not all were happy with the conditions, they weren’t broken. Some didn’t mind. Others said that as long as the customer was nice to them, both could feel pleasure. It made Kazuha want to throw up.

 

They could all see the bruises around his neck and his torn wrists. There were deep blue bruises on his waist and hips. Markings of fingers could be seen if one studied the gap in his hakama. Their eyes pitied him, but no one asked what had happened. Kazuha quickly understood why. They’d all been with someone who hurt them for pleasure.

 

Their only advice was to give in. The customer was right, so putting up a struggle only hurt the worker. Not the one using their bodies.

 

One of the older women had claimed Kazuha wouldn’t have to meet that man again. He only took a whore once, never looking at them again. He liked to “break them in”. To tame. Kazuha shivered as he vividly remembered the man’s slender hands touch his skin. Or his fingers inside him. It was disgusting.

 

“You won’t have to see him again. The only ones he’s fucked more than once are women who carry his offspring, and for them, that was the end of the line.”

 

Being with the other workers didn’t change his approach to his desired plan. But it did calm him somewhat. They treated him kindly, and kindness was the last thing Kazuha had expected to receive.

 

Now, days later, as he was being transported like a sack of rice or wheat, he hoped they were planning to kill him. The others had told him not to ask questions. Kazuha was inclined to agree for the time being.

 

“Aren’t you curious?”

 

Kazuha raised his head, facing the man opposite him. He had a smug smile on his face. Antei. The man Kazuha had given a friendly shove down the stairs back at the brothel. He was the one most malignant of the three. The second man, Eli, who’d also been there at the time, wasn’t as prominent to be mean to Kazuha. Nor was Gama. Kazuha had learnt their names. They were all there when he’d snapped Kabayama’s neck. He was their friend, Kazuha deserved their hate. He wouldn’t let it get to him. Nor did he respond.

 

“To your fucking grave,” the man said, annoyed that Kazuha didn’t acknowledge him. Kazuha didn’t move a muscle. He showed nothing, practising a restraint that took years to build. Then it cracked, a humoured smile on his lips.

 

“At least I won’t have to look at your unsightly face.”

 

Antei stood up so quickly the whole cart shook, but before he managed to land a punch, Eli had managed to catch his arm. “Are you stupid?! Have you forgotten what the manager said?” He forced the other man to look at him. “One. One scratch and you will pay. He’s merchandise, and we do not lay a hand on it. Is that clear?”

 

Kazuha had always been under the impression that Eli was the cleverest one of the bunch. Antei was all muscle. Gama didn’t say much, so Kazuha had nothing to go on. Kazuha had learnt something, and he wasn’t even punched for it. His restraints hurt as he rolled his shoulders, but he didn’t care.

 

“The best revenge we can get for Kabayama is letting the lord kill him. Don’t you think?” Gama said without opening his eyes or moving his crossed arms.

 

Kazuha had no idea what that meant, but he wouldn’t die. Whatever awaited him, he would live. Death would be a sweet reprieve, one Kazuha wouldn’t taste, no matter how tempting. Judging by Antei’s triumphant smile, Kazuha was on the road to hell. Kazuha crossed his legs, trying not to think about what hell for him meant.

 

“You won’t be so cocky when you learn who we’re going to.”

 

But Kazuha had already figured it out. The man the others said he would never have to see again was the only one it could be. Why else would Antei look so smug? And truth was, seeing him again was his nightmares come true. Kazuha was afraid of him. But he was just a man, and seeing him again would finally give Kazuha a chance to face his demon. Kill his nightmare.

 

Kazuha wore a wide smile he couldn’t hide. He didn’t care about the comment about how Kazuha had already lost his mind.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha had heard the others call the stranger a lord, but he hadn’t expected this. It wasn’t an estate or mansion. It was a whole palace complex, bigger than anything Kazuha had seen up close. This was built for royalty. Kazuha couldn’t help but gawk. He’d never been to the Shogun’s palace, but he’d grown up in its shadow, ever present on the edge of the horizon. His parent had been there, delivering swords, and as he grew up, his mother had told him stories from the palace. How the people were dressed, what it looked like on the inside and how they had to walk through several gardens only to get where they were going.

 

This, he realised, was all he’d ever imagined during his mother’s tales.

 

But they weren’t home. Kazuha knew that he’d been sent away to the islands on the outskirts of Inazuma. A palace like this, and outside Inazuma City, could only mean one thing. And Kazuha didn’t want to believe it. Every guard they passed dragged Kazuha further and further down inside his head. Eventually he didn’t have the energy to keep his head raised. What was he doing here? Had he been wrong about the stranger, and the one he’d been taken to was someone else? Someone worse?

 

Kazuha keeps his gaze lowered, even as the big doors to a throne room opened up before them. Kazuha kept his eyes on his feet and the floor polished to perfection, allowing Kazuha to meet his sorry reflection. And no matter how much he hated the three men who’d taken him here, he hated them leaving him standing on his own even more. He didn’t need to look up to feel watchful eyes on him. They bore into his exposed skin, undressed him with their hungry eyes. The air stood still as if none breathed.

 

Then the noises began again. People talked in hushed voices, but not about him. He heard them well enough. Then cut the voice of authority and Kazuha feared his knees would buckle. He wouldn’t forget that voice. He still heard it at night. It made everything hurt again. His bound wrist slit open, blood dropping on the floor. His shoulder bleeding down his chest.

 

But Kazuha was fine. Intact. It was just a voice, and one Kazuha had sworn to bury no matter how scared he was. After an agonising wait, Kazuha found himself face to face with the lord. All fibres of his being screamed at him to run. More accurate would probably be to fall to his knees for this nightmare that could only be the Shogun’s only son. But Kazuha was frozen in place. And defiant. He would not bend to this man he’d sworn to kill. When the lord forced him to raise his head, Kazuha did his best not to show anything. Neither ill-will nor fear.

 

The lord’s deep gaze was a shade so beautiful in daylight that Kazuha wanted nothing but to turn his head away. He hated his beauty. Kazuha wanted to close his eyes not to allow himself to be enchanted any further. But he kept them open, watching the lord study him in the bright light of day. Kazuha wanted to shy away as the man’s hand caressed his face before sliding into his hair. The movement was so gentle, but Kazuha knew better than to trust the hand of a man who’d hurt him.

 

A servant was called over. “Get him washed and cut his hair. Take whatever time necessary.”

 

The man continued to talk, but Kazuha had stopped listening. He didn’t want the stranger’s hands on him again. He didn’t want anyone to cut his hair. Again. It was bad enough that they had done it once at the whore house. They’d told him his hair made him beautiful, but, as a man, the long hair symbolising some sort of higher status wasn’t appropriate. So they cut it off. Kazuha had hated it. The length had reminded him of home and the feeling of his mother’s fingers brushing it through. No matter what had happened, memories like that were precious to him.

 

Memories like that kept him distracted as four female servants attended to him. They stripped him of his clothes and led him to a basin of water. It was lukewarm, but clean. The water at the brothel had been cold as ice and not suited for washing.

 

One woman carefully ran a washcloth over his bruised skin. Another one washed his hair. It wasn’t bad. He wasn’t shy. He had no need to, they weren’t ogling him, and they didn’t hurt him. Every motion was gentle.

 

The one washing his hair even told him it was beautiful, assuring him she’d only fix the damage done by the brothel. It was only he and her then. The one who’d washed him had given him the cloth to finish up himself, not intruding on his privacy, joining the other two in washing and drying his clothing. Kazuha had overheard one of the younger ones calling him beautiful. He’d caught her blushing face in the corner of his eyes. Another one had reprimanded her quickly, saying such thoughts aloud could get her killed.

 

“The lord told me he likes it long,” the woman continued, running her fingers across his scalp. The motion reminded him of his mother again. He bit his lip, forcing the memory away. Instead, he raised his gaze, his eyes meeting the ones of the person who now stood in the doorway. Another woman. Dressed differently from the servants, but she was no royalty. He’d heard her approach.

 

Her gaze was different from that of the servant girls. What they thought was hidden behind carefully crafted masks. This woman looked at him like he was a puppy someone had brought home from the street. A wounded, sorry animal. There was pity in those eyes. After a brief moment, she turned and walked. The woman behind him didn’t acknowledge the other woman, so Kazuha didn’t ask about her.

 

“I can see why he likes you.”

 

Kazuha glanced backwards, surprised by her words. Like him? Maybe in a sense, being here, Kazuha could see how that could be misinterpreted as liking something.

 

“He has never done something like this. Lord Kunikuzushi has never taken someone like you to the palace.”

 

“Like me?” He scoffed. “I’m not a whore.”

 

The woman behind him was quiet. Her fingers ran over his scalp again before reaching for the scissors. “I can tell.”

 

Kazuha bit back any other reply he might have. The words he’s spoken felt out of touch with his reality. They both knew what he was. There was little point denying it.

 

“We are what he wants us to be.”

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha stared in horror at his hand, impaled, lodged to the wooden table beneath.

 

He’d told the man and his questions to go fuck themselves, and the man didn’t react. But when Kazuha broke the only rule the lord had put down, the sharp knife was stabbed straight through his hand. Kazuha had been quick to bite his lip not to make a sound, but a pathetic whimper escaped him anyway. He’d hurt himself plenty growing up, but this was different. Shallow cuts healed. Deep wounds scarred.

 

The letter opener was lodged in his hand, keeping him nailed like a butterfly to the surface of the table.

 

Kazuha had hardly understood what happened until the man gripped the knife once more, twisting it. Kazuha bit down harder, but the pain was a lot. Tears ran down his cheeks whether he wanted to or not. He couldn’t help it. No matter what he wanted, his body reacted. And worst of all. This man had bought him. Kazuha wasn’t sure what he’d expected. But not this. He’d thought it temporary, but no.

 

“Let’s get a few things straight, shall we?”

 

Kazuha’s life didn’t belong to the brothel anymore. Not any man or woman with the cash to pay. Kazuha belonged to him.

 

The blade was suddenly pushed deeper into the table. The thicker piece of the blade tearing more of his skin as it sank deeper into his flesh. A cracking sound told him the blade had gone straight through the wood. Kazuha could see his blood drip down the floor. His eyes followed each drop. Mesmerised by how what had once been single drops, quickly became a tiny pool. Rings spread across the surface as new drops fell from the table.

 

Kazuha, knowing the lord expected an answer, nodded through clenched teeth, unable to hold back as the blade stopped, once more whimpering in response.

 

“I don’t repeat myself. Especially not to you. I bought you for my own pleasure simply because I can. You are my pet now, and you’ll act as such.”

 

His pet.

 

His dog.

 

The lord moved about, but all Kazuha could do was watch the knife lodged in his hand. See his blood drip slowly to the floor. The lord didn’t expect Kazuha to behave. He wanted to hurt him. And he could. Because Kazuha belonged to him.

 

Without warning, the knife was yanked out of the table. It didn’t hurt as much as the slow tear down had done, but it hurt.

 

His blood ran freely, despite his futile attempt to press it to his chest to stop it. It ran between his fingers. Coating his arms and chest. The blood that was once his own. Now Kazuha was nothing but a possession.

 

A pair of female hands found his. Kazuha tore his gaze from the bloodied mess and met a familiar pair. They had locked eyes before. Kazuha was weary, but as she took his hand, he didn’t stop her. It coated them both in red. She took a good look at the wound and washed it clean before bringing forth a thread and needle. As she stuck the needle into his skin, Kazuha didn’t flinch. His tears had dried. Kazuha wasn’t even sure pain was the reason they fell to begin with.

 

With one hand in hers, Kazuha, although falsely, felt somewhat safe. He didn’t know her. She might stitch him together now, but who was she really?

 

She and the lord shared a few words. Her choice of words made Kazuha believe that, for now, she was truly trying to help him. But the lord didn’t listen. He only gave her the heads up that her services would be more frequent from now on because Kazuha was fragile.

 

The word brought him back to reality. Yes, his skin could tear as easy as fabric, and his blood would pour freely if he were cut open, but Kazuha was not fragile.

 

As the physician left, Kunikuzushi was by his side in an instant. His hands on his body. Breathing him in.

 

No amount of resistance would help Kazuha now.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha’s body landed with a heavy thump on the floor. He could hardly feel it. The hard surface. The cold. His body. Whether his body was even whole anymore. His bandaged hand was in his point of view, and it was stained red, bandage undone. His torn wrists were bleeding again.

 

Kazuha had really tried to fight him. He’d kicked the lord as he caressed his leg, but the treats that followed had made Kazuha give up his childlike tactics. He could still feel where the lord’s fingers had dug into his thigh so hard that his nails punctured his skin. Kazuha had seen his body defiled and bruised. He wasn’t sure how many times the lord had penetrated him. How many times he had placed his load inside him. Kazuha wasn’t sure if the blood coating the lord’s cock was from his hand, thigh or his ass.

 

Now, he wasn’t sure of anything. Kazuha couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t recognise his body. The body that was hardly his anymore. It was an array of sun kissed skin, blue and red. He couldn’t fight this man. And at the same time, the fire inside him was burning brighter than ever. He wanted to scream. To tear the floor with his nails. Get up! His mind screamed at him to get up, and yet — Kazuha couldn’t move. He stared at his hand. He couldn’t feel his fingers. He couldn’t move them. Another silent tear fell across the bridge of his nose.

 

People had begun walking around him, ignoring his presence like he was no more than a part of the furniture. No more than a dog. Wholly ignored.

 

He was pathetic. He couldn’t do a thing. Even if he could move, where would he go? Kunikuzushi had bought him for coin. This floor was the closest thing Kazuha had to a home.

 

A sudden warmth had Kazuha opening the eyes he struggled to keep open. Someone, Kazuha wasn’t quick enough to see who, had given him a blanket. Kazuha pulled it up, curling in on himself. He was no better than a child.

 

Hearing that the servants had left, and the lord was still walking about, Kazuha shut his eyes. He was afraid Kunikuzushi would deny him this simple kindness. He focused on breathing in. Breathing out. He would allow sleep to claim him, hoping tomorrow would be better. 

 

His father came to mind. His domestic violence. How Kazuha as a young boy would hide beneath the covers in his room, or how his mother used to hold him until the pain was over. It didn’t matter if he’d hurt himself due to his energetic nature or if his father was to blame. He saw their faces so clearly. It hadn’t been long since he last saw them. He hated them. More than anything, Kazuha hated them, and he cried because, despite it all, he didn’t want to. This pain was his because he loved them,

 

and they hated him.

 

Kazuha wasn’t surprised that his father thought him incompetent. Like this, at least he’d given them something. But his mother. She’d been his everything. He’d believed himself to be the light of her life too. Her face stared back at him every time he saw his reflection. Her red eyes and gentle mouth. Kazuha couldn’t believe she’d do this to him. Not her.

 

Kazuha felt the image of his parents blur as tears filled his vision once more. He held his breath, crying in silence. He couldn’t risk the other man hearing him.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Hands reaching for him had Kazuha awake in an instant. He tried to fend them off, but his arms were weak and his mind hazy. He blinked, the darkness clearing quickly to reveal the servant who had washed him off this morning. He relaxed somewhat, glad that it wasn’t Kunikuzushi and morning already upon him.

 

She gestured for him to follow, and he did without question, wrapped in nothing but a blanket. Anywhere was better than where he was.

 

Kazuha was willing to thank gods that she’d lead him to the servants’ washing room, then he remembered that his god’s son fucked him in the ass, and refrained. Nevertheless, he was grateful.

 

She offered him help, but he didn’t accept. He’d manage, although slowly. She would wait for him to show him to the physician once he was done.

 

No, Kazuha couldn’t thank gods, but he could be grateful to humanity. Humans could be cruel, but looking down his body, he knew a god could be worse. He had a bucket of cold water and a washcloth. It was more than enough. The blood on his chest was hard to scrub away, but just like last time, Kazuha didn’t mind scrubbing his skin hard. The layer beneath would be clean.

 

Kazuha was a bloodied mess. His chest, arms, legs. It spread like branches across his naked skin. The more he cleaned off, the worse it looked. Exchanging red for deep blue. He sighed, dropping the cloth in the water. He was tired, drained of whatever strength he believed himself having. With a quiet groan, he got up, wrapped the small towel around his hips and joined the servant waiting outside.

 

The walk to the physician’s office wasn’t far. The lights were on and the slide door ajar. The servant pushed it open and allowed Kazuha in, then she left without a word. Kazuha himself, hardly able to stand upright, didn’t manage to greet the woman before she patted the examination table. Kazuha kept quiet, sitting down, trying not to flinch as he did. His lower region was sore, and his legs shaky. Not to mention the irritated skin on his inner thighs from Kunikuzushi’s strong grip.

 

“I thought they would have to carry you here, you have lost a lot of blood,” she said as she undid the bandages she’d put in place earlier. The stitches were ripped, and he breathed in through clenched teeth as she pulled them loose with little warning. She mumbled low curses throughout the whole process of ripping the stitches up, cleaning, and then beginning again. Kazuha allowed her to work in silence. Someone came in with his clothing, washed and dried. He only nodded as thanks. He was hardly keeping his eyes open, nodding off between stitches.

 

When she was done, she cleaned the wounds on his wrists before wrapping them up too. She stabilised one wrist extra since she worried he might have strained it. She’d sighed heavily at the sight of his wrists, but not said anything more. After a while, she wanted him to lie on the side, and when he gave her a sceptical look, she only told him she wanted to have a look at all of him. Kazuha didn’t have to like it.

 

When she was finally satisfied, she leaned back heavily in her chair. Kazuha remained seated too, back against the wall, resting his eyes.

 

“He’ll kill you.”

 

“I know,” Kazuha responded without opening his eyes. The warm candlelight was almost too bright for his tired eyes.

 

The lord had bought him. This was where he belonged. And despite what he’d thought about him, after tonight it was evident just how wide the gap in power was between them. “My body can hardly keep up with a god.”

 

“Half god.”

 

“Does it matter?” Kazuha opened his tired eyes, looking straight at her. “I’m coming apart, aren’t I?”

 

“He will continue to tie you up, so you should stop fighting it so hard. Don’t pull your shoulders out of their sockets or sprain your wrists.”

 

Kazuha wanted to laugh. He supposed it was good advice, but he couldn’t help it. The lord was devouring him, and he was expected not to fight it?

 

“He won’t let you touch him, so if you’re planning to survive, you have to get used to it.”

 

Kazuha hated those words. “Get used to it.” Kunikuzushi had said it too after finishing inside him for the second or third time. The physician said it. The workers at the brothel had said it.

 

He supposed Antei and the others were having a laugh now. He was glad they didn’t get the chance to see him.

 

“You should run.”

 

Kazuha shook his head, and she was quick to ask why.

 

“I want to kill him.”

 

It was her time to laugh. “We all do, but the man is immortal. There’s simply no way to do it.”

 

Immortal?

 

Kazuha bit his lip, realising how stupid he sounded. And why Kunikuzushi had laughed at him that day. What weight did a promise of death carry for a man death could never claim?

 

“You should take your best chance and run. You are clearly a warrior of some kind, you’re in good health if we ignore the damage you’ve taken tonight. If you get out, you’ll go far.”

 

What she said didn’t sound stupid.

 

”Wait a few days till you have a general idea of the rounds the guards do, and then one night when you’re feeling better, run without looking back. Kill if you have to. If you’re caught, you’re dead anyway.”

 

Right. He’s dead anyway. How long did he have? How long before Kunikuzushi broke him completely? The way he spoke made Kazuha think he wanted Kazuha around, but then he treated him like he’d kill him where he lay.

 

Kazuha wanted to live. Running or fighting didn’t matter.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha was pretty sure his chance to kill Kunikuzushi had faded. He was simply a man. How was he supposed to kill a god? He couldn’t.

 

But Kazuha wanted to. Kunikuzushi managed to keep Kazuha’s will ablaze, never wavering. Everything he did made Kazuha hate him more. Even when Kazuha couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth, spewing all kinds of words telling the lord to burn in hell, it was only cause for a menacing smile. It drove Kazuha mad.

 

Kunikuzushi was amused by Kazuha’s defiance, and although he didn’t want to entertain the man’s fantasies, Kazuha couldn’t help it. Lying down and taking it was hardly a better alternative. The god wanted to tame him. Kazuha couldn’t let him. No matter the cost. Adverse to what the physician had said about making his life easier, Kazuha wanted to fight. So, during the second night, Kazuha did.

 

A simple thing as speaking out of turn rewarded him with a slap to his face. It was hard enough to send him to the floor. His face stung, and his ears rang from the impact. Fucking hell, Kunikuzushi was strong. Kazuha moved to a sitting position, touching his cheek. His fingers came back bloodied. Courtesy of one of the god’s rings no less. Kazuha grinned. It was too easy to anger the other, and the violent act was familiar. Almost welcoming compared to the sexual violence. Kazuha hated that. It was hard being though in such a vulnerable state.

 

Kazuha didn’t get a chance to do anything before Kunikuzushi was kneeling by his side, raising his head. His movement was, as always, graceful, but the strength raising his face was undeniable.

 

“Look what you’ve done,” Kunikuzushi said, tilting his face to study the blood that now dripped down Kazuha’s face. As if Kazuha had hurt himself. “So eager for a beating are we? No wonder your parents sold you.”

 

Kunikuzushi was rubbing it in, Kazuha knew that. He was preying on Kazuha’s weaknesses. But it worked, because Kunikuzushi’s grin widened. Two could play the easy game, it seemed. “Now, will you shut that pretty mouth of yours and get on the bed?”

 

Right. That’s where it started. And Kazuha refused to go through last night’s torture once more. “As if anyone would do that willingly.”

 

It was enough for Kunikuzushi to grab him by the hair and drag him over to the bed. When Kunikuzushi reached for his hands, Kazuha made it anything but easy for him. It was a futile fight, but the point wasn’t winning. The point was giving Kunikuzushi the struggle he claimed that he wanted. He wanted to beat Kazuha into submission. Kazuha didn’t like pain, but he didn’t like giving up either. He’d promised himself not to give up even if he wanted nothing than for the other to kill him. And it wasn’t hard to fight.

 

Kazuha hadn’t gotten much rest last night, and he woke in intense pain. He didn’t want Kunikuzushi inside him ever again. But Kunikuzushi was stronger, and Kazuha quickly found his hands tied to the headboard once more. The long sleeve stayed on. Kazuha wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that he’d kept a piece of his armour or if it would simply be torn apart instead.

 

Kunikuzushi gave him a triumphant smile. “You’re putting up such a useless fight,” he teased as his hands reached for the knot keeping Kazuha’s pants up. Kazuha drove his knee up Kunikuzushi’s stomach. It did nothing to the god, who only sighed in response. His brows furrowed, clearly annoyed by the transgression, but he didn’t retreat. When he reached for Kazuha once more, Kazuha kicked him off.

 

“Stupid dog,” he muttered as he walked off. Kazuha only got a few seconds to breathe before Kunikuzushi returned with more material to tie Kazuha down. As if Kazuha would allow that.

 

“On the contrary to your beliefs, you’re the only whore who hasn’t happily spread their legs for me.” Kunikuzushi had undone Kazuha’s pants in the blink of an eye. Kazuha hadn’t been able to stop him. “I’m a god. Who the fuck wouldn’t happily take my cock, hm?” Kunikuzushi continued as he forced Kazuha onto his stomach before catching Kazuha’s ankle, tying him down to one end of the bed. To Kazuha’s horror, he tied the other ankle down too, leaving him, legs spread, unable to close them.

 

“If you won’t open your legs willingly, whore, then I’ll just force you.” Kunikuzushi’s hand caressed Kazuha’s spine, down his ass, all the way to his balls, chuckling at Kazuha’s poor attempt to close his legs.

 

“Happily take your cock?” Kazuha gritted out, trying to ignore the shiver down his spine as Kunikuzushi touched his most sensitive areas. He wasn’t about to let his body betray him again. “I was told none were too happy about potentially carrying your spawns.”

 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong Kaedehara, I don’t care if they pretend.” Kunikuzushi emphasised his point by pushing a finger inside Kazuha, who once more tensed at the intrusion. “Besides, it must mean someone told you that I have killed whoever carries a child of mine. Or —“ Kunikuzushi curled his finger, “someone told you that I don’t fuck whores twice.”

 

Kazuha couldn’t see Kunikuzushi, but he could hear the smirk. He could imagine his eyes focused on his work, and his grin widen as he pushed another finger inside him. Kazuha’s knees shook, the ropes digging into his ankles despite his best attempt not to hurt himself as he had his wrists. Kunikuzushi leaned over him, his hair tickling Kazuha’s lower back as it cascaded over him.

 

“You poor mutt. It’s true I’ve only ever fucked the carrying whores’ twice since I kill them anyway. But you are special. I like the way you squirm. The way you defy me is refreshing. Not to mention, you’re a man.”

 

Kazuha opened his mouth to say something rude, but was cut off by Kunikuzushi pushing another finger inside his ass. “Stop barking,” he ordered, pushing Kazuha’s head down the pillows. “I know what makes your heart race. I’ll just continue to hurt and exploit you until you bend to my every will. You don’t have to like it, but if I ask you to strip down and get on the bed — you will get on the bed.”

 

As he spoke, he removed his fingers, instead allowing his cock to prod at Kazuha’s entrance. He pushed past his rim painfully slow, making Kazuha squirm once more against his restraints. Beads of sweat pearled on his forehead as he breathed deep, clenching his teeth not to make a noise, for the agonisingly slow stretch as their hips slowly met. The god never gave Kazuha a chance to adjust before he raised Kazuha’s hips, pulling his own hips back only to thrust himself back inside him once more. Then over and over and over and over again. And Kazuha could do nothing but let him.

 

Kunikuzushi’s hands held him hard, using him as he saw fit. The ropes cut into his skin. And when the god spilled his load inside him, Kazuha once more was left with the dripping feeling between his ass cheeks and down his thighs.

 

The god praised him for doing so well. In the next breath, he called him a stupid dog who refused to behave and had to be tied up, adding once more that he didn’t mind seeing him like this. Legs shaking, his hole leaking the lord’s load. Kazuha wanted to bite back, but he was out of breath and lacking the energy to. It wasn’t going to help him out of this position anyway.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

By the third day, Kazuha had annoyed Kunikuzushi to the extent that he only bothered fucking him once before sending him to the physician’s office. She’d been annoyed with him on the second night, saying he was stupid for making the god tie him up further, cursing the torn skin on his ankles. She’d also cursed the god for not giving Kazuha somewhere to sleep that wasn’t his floor. He’d spent every night at her office. She would go curse him out if that was his only solution to the problem.

 

Kazuha thought her too kind. There was no reason to try for his sake.

 

As long as he struggled, Kunikuzushi wouldn’t kill him. His body may break, but he still had a resilient mind. And he could move his fingers again. It was a small triumph.

 

“Run tonight.”

 

“I haven’t managed to map out the guards yet,” Kazuha objected. This wasn’t a small brothel. This was a palace. He couldn’t just try. He’d run straight into a guard.

 

“I can give you a brief explanation, the rest is on you,” the woman said, taking out a piece of parchment. She was incredibly insistent.

 

“Why do you care so much?” He asked, to which she waved her hand dismissively. “You are too much work. I miss the quiet around here.”

 

Kazuha knew that was a lie, so he remained silent, not inquiring further. She wouldn’t speak. Instead he watched her drawing with full focus. Her analysis of the guards’ pattern was immaculate. Like she’d studied them for a long time. She clearly had no intention to run herself, but he wondered how many times she’d pondered the idea. To be this informed about the guard rounds, she must have entertained the thought of escape more than once.

 

“Can you do it?”

 

“It’s as you said, I’m dead either way, so I might as well try.” To his surprise, she smiled. Kazuha wasn’t sure he’d memorised it all, but he had no choice, the best time to escape was now.

 

“Your two guards are outside the door. I’ll help you deal with them, but after that, you are on your own.” The woman placed a scalpel in his hand before moving towards the door. They were running out of time to act, so any conversation was cut short.

 

She opened the door, and before the left man got a chance to greet him, she’d run the blade across his neck. It was a cut performed with precision. Kazuha used the guard’s partner’s surprise to jab his blade into his neck. Kazuha covered his mouth, feeling him choke on blood beneath his palm. He laid him down, glancing back at the other body. The physician had retreated into her office, the door closed once more.

 

Kazuha took it as his sign to move. Quickly, before anyone saw him. He couldn’t risk wasting time since he was at the inner, most guarded section of the palace. It would only take minutes for someone to come across the bodies, and after that, a shadow like himself would become the hunted.

 

Barefoot, he quietly crossed the palace floors. His training allowed him to move without sound. Almost like a dance, the shadows his partner.

 

Any sign of company made Kazuha stop and wait, making good use of his advanced hearing. It worked well at first, but the further he ventured, the harder it was to remember the drawing the physician had made. Even his hearing started to fail him as the new part of the palace he found himself in was livelier than the silence he’d grown used to. It was almost the middle of the night, but a lot of the guards and servants were moving around. More than Kazuha had suspected or heard of.

 

“Hey!”

 

Kazuha didn’t need to turn around to know he’d been seen. He just ran. Despite the pain and his muscles all but screaming as he moved, Kazuha was still fast. It was his strength. He was quick and flexible, easily ducking out from under arms that tried to grab him. What he lacked in strength, he made up with quick reflexes and a sharp mind.

 

Kazuha wasn’t sure how long he’d run until the southern palace walls were in his sight. He ran faster, now that his goal was in view. But being single minded became his downfall. A sturdy guard suddenly appeared out of nowhere and Kazuha, too late to realise, ran straight into him, knocking himself on his ass.

 

Pain shot up his spine, but he forced himself to get up. Arms grabbing his shoulders, pushing him down once more, told him he wasn’t fast enough. Not strong enough to pry them off. No matter how he struggled, he remained pinned to the ground.

 

Someone said something about watching his face, and the pressure on the back of his head lessened somewhat. Not enough for him to break free, but that didn’t stop him from cursing and thrashing like a wild animal. Not even as iron clasped his wrists, and he was hoisted to his feet, did he stop thrashing around.

 

It took four guards to force him back. Kazuha even escaped once before they could knock at Kunikuzushi’s large chamber doors. The minute it took the god to let them in was one Kazuha used to calm down. He stopped thrashing around and when he was forced to his knees in front of the lord, Kazuha lowered his head, breathing laboured from fighting for his escape.

 

When Kunikuzushi asked about the guards, a silence erupted, and Kazuha couldn’t hide a wide grin from spreading on his dirtied face. That was right. Take their eyes off him, only for a second, and Kazuha would extend his leash to the fullest and strike first. He wanted to laugh.

 

Kunikuzushi placed two fingers beneath his chin to raise his head. Kazuha kept his triumphant smile. He’d almost escaped. Kunikuzushi couldn’t take that away from him. The lord didn’t look angry with him. Not even disappointed. Rather, curious. He could call Kazuha a whore or his dog, but that wasn’t Kazuha. The god couldn’t expect him to fall in line with what Kunikuzushi had decided he would be. He’d have to fight harder for that. He dared the lord to do his worst.

 

In the end, he ordered them to throw him in a cell. That didn’t faze Kazuha. A few nights in the dungeon would at least save him from the hands of a god. Kazuha would welcome it with open arms.

 

Kazuha couldn’t hold his laughter in as the guards locked the iron bars behind him and left him to rot. He laughed because he almost escaped. He laughed because he was still capable of fighting. He laughed because he was alive.

 

“Is this the best you can come up with, you piece of shit?!” Kazuha called out, hoping the god could hear him through the layers of layers of stone keeping the two apart. Kazuha kicked a stone hard, laughing once more. Judging by his words, Kazuha guessed the cells were far from a place you wanted to be looked up in.

 

“If anyone touches him, I will know,” Kunikuzushi had said. It gave Kazuha the impression that anyone with a key was ruler down here. But Kazuha was the property of a selfish god. If he truly wanted to scare Kazuha, he should have allowed anyone to have their way with him. The thought made him shiver. He hated that being adored by Kunikuzushi kept him safe. He didn’t want to imagine what being down here without Kunikuzushi’s protection could have made him subject to.

 

For now, Kazuha would sleep well knowing Kunikuzushi wouldn’t touch him tonight. 

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

No one was allowed to touch Kazuha, but that was a small comfort. Kazuha had no control over what transpired outside his cell. The first time someone jerked off to his sorry state, he did his best to ignore it. The sounds of his guards touching themselves were hard to shut out. Their words even harder.

 

They didn’t spare him any details about how, if they could, they’d have him on all fours, ripping his whoring clothes off. Another one was turned on by his light clothing. Someone doesn’t mind sharing, saying that with how their master had used Kazuha, he must be able to take two cocks in his ass at the same time now. Three even, there was room in his mouth too. If the lord were a bit more generous, Kazuha could be passed among them like some toy.

 

Kazuha didn’t recognise any of these guards, suspecting they didn’t work close to Kunikuzushi. He suspected anyone doing so was smarter than to try anything with Kazuha. If it was respect or fear was something Kazuha didn’t know.

 

His whole body ached as he struggled not to imagine whatever descriptive images were described to him. He hated how effective it was to scare him, but he hated that he relied on Kunikuzushi’s protection even more.

 

Kazuha couldn’t imagine Kunikuzushi liking what they had said to him. That they had jerked off to his belongings. But Kazuha was sent down here for a reason. He supposed scaring him was the idea. Make him dependent on Kunikuzushi for his safety.

 

As if.

 

When one guard told him how he wanted to cut Kazuha open and fuck his insides, their words had stopped phasing him. He’d turned to meditating. He didn’t have to hear any of it. Not the low grunts of someone touching themselves or spewing disgusting descriptions of how they’d fuck him if they could. Nor did he have to listen to the sound of rape further down the hall.

 

What couldn’t be done to Kazuha was done to someone else, and Kazuha didn’t want to hear it.

 

It was hard to discern day from night in the darkness surrounding him, but he counted his meals, which amounted to one each day with not much to account for. One day, someone had coated his food in semen, and Kazuha knew at first glance that he rather starved. Starving to death was probably better than what awaited him back above ground anyway.

 

On the fifth day, someone unlocked his cell door. Kazuha shied back at first, thinking someone had finally had enough of imagining what his body would feel like in their hands, but this guard was a familiar face. He’d stood guard outside Kunikuzushi’s doors more than once since Kazuha came here. When he beckoned Kazuha to follow him, Kazuha did so without objections.

 

He wasn’t sure what would meet him once he was free from his newest cage, but it definitely wasn’t his own room. Calling it a room was perhaps calling it more than it was, but it was bigger than his cell, and it had a proper bed. A place for clothing.

 

“I’m instructed to follow you to the washroom before accompanying you to the physician. Besides that, you are free to walk around this area as you wish, so long as you respond to your summons. Lord Kunikuzushi suspects you understand the consequences of trying anything like your stunt earlier.”

 

Kazuha hummed in reply, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. He understood Kunikuzushi wouldn’t be as lenient next time. He was giving Kazuha a second chance here. He could take it, or he could see where testing the lord’s patience would take him.

 

“Will I be watched?”

 

“At a distance,” the man responded. Kazuha suspected that were good enough. He’d done nothing to make Kunikuzushi trust him.

 

After almost five days in a dirty cell, Kazuha welcomed the cool water on his skin. He smelled awful. He took his time washing off his body and gave his pale lengths a thorough wash. His hair, no longer taken care of like he was used to, had been quite the unruly mess by the time Kazuha saw daylight again.

 

He’d brought a set of his new clothing. They were similar to his old ones, but at least they weren’t the same. It left him half naked still, but Kazuha couldn’t help but think that looking like Kunikuzushi’s whore was better than everyone’s whore.

 

No matter how he loathed it.

 

After leading Kazuha to the physician, the guard was good on his word and gave him space. The woman was clearly happy to see him alright, but she still greeted him by saying he looked like shit.

 

A quick examination and her only verdict was that Kazuha had lost weight, and without another word, she sent word that an extra portion would be added to her meal. No one objected. She had an authority that Kazuha admired.

 

“When I heard you were thrown in the dungeon, I personally visited Kunikuzushi to tell him he should have killed you instead.”

 

“Thanks,” Kazuha responded, not sure if he should be grateful or not. He wanted to live.

 

“He said I was mistaking him, asking if I really thought I’d let anyone have you,” she recalled, leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed. Kazuha cringed. He wasn’t sure what had the lord so fascinated with him, but it could hardly be his resistance alone. Sometimes he did praise him, but that was always in a degrading sense. The servant who washed his hair had told him Kunikuzushi liked it long. The lord had never really touched his hair except to drag him to bed one time. Kazuha blinked hard, realising he didn’t want to know.

 

They didn’t mention his failed attempt to escape, but Kazuha suspected she wanted to. He wanted to apologise for failing. She wanted to scold him for doing so, he could see it in the gaze that had wandered to the window. She’d done so much for him. He probably couldn’t repay her even if he wanted to.

 

Kazuha could smell the food before the knock came. Only when faced with his meal did Kazuha’s stomach contract, truly telling him how starved he was. He felt sick, but he needed to eat. Starving had been his only choice down there, but Kazuha needed his strength. He would never be able to get away if he were only skin and bones when the opportunity came. The woman watched him eat, only picking at her own dinner.

 

“Nothing happened to you, right? If anyone transgressed, I want to know.”

 

Kazuha shook his head, swallowing. Rice had never been this good before, and he knew he’d had to hold back from wolfing it down in one go. “Besides hearing about how many ways and positions I could be raped, there was little else of note.” Kazuha wouldn’t complain in vain. If he did, Kunikuzushi would win.

 

The woman failed to contain a smile. “It’s just words. If anyone were to touch you, they would lose their hand.”

 

“Sounds like you speak from experience?” Kazuha asked, eyebrow raised. She waved her chopsticks as she flicked her wrist. “Sure. It’s not easy being a woman in a place like this. But you’ll get used to it.”

 

Kazuha shivered. There it was again. He didn’t want to get used to it.

 

“Anyway. I wasn’t as lucky once, but Kunikuzushi showed up before anything could happen. The man lost his hand then and his life a few days later.”

 

“So, he saved you?” Kazuha hated to think that Kunikuzushi ever did anything to benefit anyone but himself. But she nodded.

 

“Kunikuzushi is a cruel man Kazuha, but he has a strong sense of what’s just.” She quickly raised her hand when Kazuha opened his mouth to object. “My family has always been here. I grew up in this palace, and throughout my life, he’s always been there. I know everything about him, it’s my job. But you. You are nothing but a whore to him. What do you think he owes you?”

 

Kazuha closed his mouth.

 

“Besides, have you ever done anything to warrant his trust? Hasn’t he said that he’ll treat you better if you follow his orders?”

 

“You were the one who told me to run,” Kazuha objected. Whose side was she on?

 

“Because I have no doubt that he’ll break you, one way or another. Then you’ll remain his loyal whore until the day he kills you. And I don’t wish that for anyone.

 

“And contradicting myself, I don’t dislike you. It’s not bad company.”

 

It wasn’t all bad, Kazuha supposed. She was right, which annoyed him beyond understanding. But it was a comfort knowing she understood him. She would be here as Kunikuzushi slowly tore him apart. When the god broke his bones to arrange them in a fashion he preferred, she would piece him back together.

 

So when Kunikuzushi ordered him to get on his knees to suck his cock, Kazuha did as he asked. He even asked for permission to touch the god, which he gave. Kunikuzushi was visibly pleased.

 

Kazuha had never given a blowjob before, but he had received it. He had little to go on besides what had made him feel good then. Kazuha wasn’t sure that girl had known what she was doing, but he’d been younger, not knowing what made him feel good either. It was all Kazuha had to go on, and he didn’t much like the idea of taking the lord’s cock in his mouth, but what choice did he have?

 

So Kazuha tried. The lord’s hand had found his hair, gently caressing his scalp.

 

When he ordered him to swallow, Kazuha recognised the tone that gave him no other choice. He didn’t even complain as the lord pushed his head down further, only to be met by his shallow thrusts down his throat. Kazuha laid his rage aside, focusing on his breathing.

 

The torture was only seconds long, and Kazuha did his best not to show his disgust as Kunikuzushi came down his throat. What he could not hide was the tears at the corner of his eyes or how he needed to wipe saliva off his lips. He’d been sure he couldn’t feel more defiled than he had been, but he was proved wrong. Turns out he didn’t like anything Kunikuzushi could force him to do. The ones back at the brothel who talked about mutual pleasure clearly hadn’t gone to bed with anyone like Kunikuzushi.

 

When the god told him he’d earned a reward, Kazuha wanted to start crawling backwards. He didn’t trust him in the slightest. A reward might just as well mean he wouldn’t tear him apart or beat him black and blue as he raped him over and over again.

 

Kazuha was almost glad Kunikuzushi chose to blindfold him. At least his eyes wouldn’t expose how scared he was. He didn’t want the god to see his eyes waver. It didn’t matter that he whispered sweet words of comfort, asking him not to be scared, as he tied his hands to the headboard as he always did. At least he was dressed and on his back. The only good thing about being on his stomach was the fact that Kunikuzushi couldn’t see his face, but now, here he was blindfolded and alone. Because Kunikuzushi wasn’t on the bed with him anymore. He was moving, although quietly, around in the room.

 

Kazuha couldn’t possibly understand why. Perhaps to find some torture device he hadn’t shown Kazuha before. Surely he had some lying around.

 

The bed shifted beneath him as the lord returned. Kazuha could feel his presence. Hear him. Kunikuzushi was above him, like so many times before. He shifted, Kazuha twitched slightly as Kunikuzushi’s hand caressed his face. The touch was too sudden not to surprise him, too gentle to soothe. His hand travelled down Kazuha’s neck, across his chest. Kazuha’s naked skin was used to Kuniuzushi’s touch, but not like this. He caressed Kazuha’s bare stomach, and the featherlight feeling was almost ticklish before settling on his waist.

 

Something wet and warm followed a straight line from beneath his pectoral muscles to his abdomen. The god had licked his skin. He squeezed his waist, and Kazuha couldn’t stop a shiver down his spine. The god had him on edge, but at the same time, he didn’t feel like running.

 

That feeling returned once he felt the lord undo his pants. Kazuha tensed again. He fought the will to kick him, but the urge was wiped from his mind the second he felt Kunikuzushi’s hand around his cock. Kazuha bit back a gasp at the unfamiliar feeling of the god’s hand stroking him slowly. He quickly hardened in his hand.

 

No. No. No. No. No.

 

Kazuha couldn’t help it. His hands pulled against his restraints, trying to find something to hold on to. Kazuha didn’t know what to do with his body, his breath heavy and skin hot. Kunikuzushi was pleasuring him, and Kazuha couldn’t help but feel good. He hated it. How his body reacted. The lord’s hand on his skin. The way he had to bite down not to let a single sound of pleasure past his lip.

 

But the god asked him to. He wanted to hear him. Kazuha didn’t want to be heard. He wanted to sink through the sheets and die rather than to allow the demon next to him to know he could make Kazuha melt from his touch. It was a basic human response to pleasure, but Kazuha still didn’t want to. He didn’t want it.

 

But then Kunikuzushi leaned in, his face next to Kazuha’s. He could tell from the warmth of his breath. Kazuha hardly registered what the god whispered in his ear because the pain as he bit his ear made Kazuha lose his composure. He came. Whether he wanted to or not. Kazuha was glad he was blindfolded. He didn’t want to see the mess he could feel himself having made over his midriff. And the god’s hand.

 

He quickly did the only thing he could do. He begged for the god’s forgiveness. He even used the word he’d refrained from using all this time. Master. I’m sorry. Kazuha stumbled on the words, breathless and anxious. The title unfamiliar. The words reluctant. Kunikuzushi bit his ear again, tearing through the cartilage. The sound was deafening. Kazuha whimpered, his body sensitive after what had just happened.

 

“You were only doing what I asked of you, have you already forgotten?” Kunikuzushi asked. Kazuha could practically hear the grin. Kazuha could hardly remember a word Kunikuzushi had said after wrapping his hand around Kazuha’s cock. He was embarrassed. He was angry at himself. And at the same time, he hadn’t felt this good in days. Angry tears burned at the corner of his eyes. He blinked it away as he felt Kunikuzushi dry his body off.

 

Kazuha wanted this to be the end of it. He couldn’t stand this kind of mental torment any longer. But Kunikuzushi pulled his pants off instead. Kazuha knew what that meant. He’d had his fun. Kunikuzushi was about to have his. He probably deserved it too after what he just did. He clenched down as a cold finger pushed past that rim of muscles. It was uncomfortable. It was always uncomfortable. But it was… better?

 

The friction wasn’t as painful as it used to be. Kunikuzushi wasn’t as violent as he tended to be. He was almost gentle. His free hand caressed Kazuha’s hips as he added another finger. Kazuha’s climax must have made him insane because unlike how he used to feel, it didn’t feel too bad. Not his body at least. His mind was spinning. The tears of anger were still clinging to the corner of his eyes, now threatening to fall. His cock was hardening again, mocking Kazuha who tried to be indifferent. Kunikuzushi wasn’t supposed to feel good.

 

Kazuha reluctantly allowed his body to adjust to Kunikuzushi’s presence. The slow stretch wasn’t bad. It didn’t make him want to die. At least not from pain. When Kunikuzushi removed his fingers, Kazuha almost wished he hadn’t. The thought alone was enough to make Kazuha sick. Or perhaps it was the new scent Kazuha hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t help but feel like that scent was the courtesy of why he wasn’t in as much pain as he usually was. His asshole didn’t feel raw and violated. Instead, he felt slick. Almost like when Kunikuzushi came inside him, and he could feel the liquid on his skin. Whatever it was allowed the god’s cock to slide inside him with an ease that Kazuha had never expected to experience.

 

Kunikuzushi moved his hips slowly. It was a rhythm that allowed Kazuha to adjust, the stretch pleasant. Kazuha clenched his jaw, stopping himself from moving his hips in rhythm with the other. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to. His body begging for Kunikuzushi to reach deeper, as if there was an itch inside of him. Kunikuzushi adjusted his grip of Kazuha’s hips and then — a moan slipped past Kazuha’s lips.

 

Blood rushed to Kazuha’s face, heating his skin. His ears were burning. He wasn’t sure what had happened. Kunikuzushi had slowed his thrusting, almost stopping. Kazuha knew the god had heard it. He wanted to hear him, but Kazuha’s sudden outburst must have taken them both by surprise. Kazuha was ashamed. He didn’t want Kunikuzushi to know that Kazuha had enjoyed what he did to him.

 

The god chuckled, telling him how obedience suited Kazuha. Then he thrust hard inside him, once more hitting that spot that had made Kazuha lose his control. The abuse was vicious, but it wasn’t violent. It left Kazuha in a state of bliss, one he couldn’t deny no matter how he wished to. He found himself arching his back into it, forcing Kunikuzushi deeper inside him. His deep breaths had turned into sweet moans, driving the other on. He was pathetic. The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks as he clenched around the other’s cock.

 

Kazuha couldn’t see but Kunikuzushi was still the man above him. The one who hurt him beyond repair was now abusing him so lovingly that Kazuha hardly knew up from down in the darkness. But he wanted it. Kazuha came as Kunikuzushi spilled his load inside him. It was still disgusting. Kazuha’s own actions were disgusting.

 

Kunikuzushi untied him and removed the blindfold before sending Kazuha away. Kazuha avoided his gaze and escaped as quickly as he could. He needed to wash off. He needed to wash everything off. Not just the god’s semen between his legs. The sweat. Kazuha’s shoulder was drenched in blood. No, it was the emotion he’d felt during the whole situation. He wanted to wash all of it off. Dunk his head in cold water and not emerge until the feeling inside his chest was gone. Until the idea that he’d actually felt good when Kunikuzushi fucked him was long gone.

 

Kazuha scrubbed hard, but the feeling remained. His motion became stagnant, his ability to run the cloth over his skin slack. He was trembling. Kazuha leaned on his palms, gaze on the wooden boards. Tears flooded his eyes, quickly falling to the wet floor. There was no stopping the tears. They kept coming.

 

Eventually, Kazuha screamed.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha didn’t tell the physician about what happened that night. He came to her office with only his ear to be patched up. He needed stitches, and although it hurt, Kazuha didn’t flinch as she worked. He’d entered, clean and in an unusually good shape, however, it was impossible to hide the fact that he had cried.

 

Kazuha was out of it, not answering when spoken to. His gaze was always on the floor. Eventually, she stopped trying. Whatever he was hiding was for him to keep. Her silence gave him too much time to think. It didn’t take long for silent tears to crawl down his cheeks again. Kazuha let it happen.

 

The next day, Kazuha stayed in bed. He wouldn’t get up unless he was forced to. He was disgusted by what he’d done. Before becoming Kunikuzushi’s whore, Kazuha had only been intimate with one other. A woman a few years younger than himself. She was a lot like him. They both grew up in similar status, and although no one knew, a union between the two would not have been seen as unwanted. They’d been young and sex had been exciting. It happened once or twice, but that was all it was. Kazuha wouldn’t go so far as to say he loved the girl. What was important was that sex was supposed to feel good. Even between two men, if done right, it was supposed to feel good.

 

Kazuha knew that was true. He wasn’t supposed to feel appalled by himself. But he did. It took him a whole day to come to terms with the fact that feeling good in the act didn’t have to mean that he felt good under him. What had happened had nothing to do with Kunikuzushi. It was just another way for him to torture Kazuha. If he wasn’t breaking Kazuha’s body, he tried his mind. Kazuha wouldn’t let it happen. Kazuha was more determined than ever.

 

No one called for him. The day after that was quiet too. That was the first time he took a walk by himself. Without meaning to, he learnt how far his guards allowed him to walk. It wasn’t far. Every time he stepped out of line, someone would clear their throat behind him, and Kazuha didn’t need more reprimanding than that. He got the hint.

 

Like a dog, a voice in his head said. Had the god made him obedient already? Kazuha shook the thought away, visibly shaking his head. No. That wasn’t true. He knew that much.

 

Kazuha eventually ended up by the pond in the inner palace garden. Koi were swimming in the water, and Kazuha allowed himself to watch them quietly, getting lost in their aimless movement. Just, around and round. Almost like himself.

 

He met Kunikuzushi that day. He wanted to small talk. Kazuha did not. It did however remind Kazuha of all the things he no longer had. More importantly, he wondered where it had all gone wrong.

 

The Kaedehara clan had been declining for a long time. Kazuha had grown up knowing it might as well die with him. Their art was no longer needed. Hadn’t been for a long while. Not as their god slowly secluded herself. None in the Raiden Gokaden was needed anymore. A lot of the other clans acclimated to how the world changed, but the Kaedehara’s had trouble adjusting. Making swords was maybe the only thing they were good for. Kazuha wasn’t. He was made to wield the sword, no matter what his father made him believe.

 

His mother had been the one to patch him up as a kid. Bandaging his reddened knuckles and blistered palms. She would tell him he was strong. He was their future. Their beloved son, no matter what his father said. Kazuha believed her. He believed in them as a clan of samurai. There was a girl who liked him. He could be their clan’s future. Kazuha was sure of himself. Maybe that was why his father hated him. Why he gambled all their money away. They drowned in debt, and although Kazuha knew there would be a long way to restore their honour as samurai, he had faith that they could.

 

Then strangers reached for him in the night. Blindfolded and gagged him. Swept his life from underneath him as easily as pulling on a rug. Maybe he’d never known what happened if it wasn’t for his father’s voice. Kazuha had heard the price for his life, and it left a sour taste on his tongue. When Kazuha’s eyes were finally unveiled, it was to the heavy red smoke of the pleasure house. Hearing the transaction for himself and then coming face to face with his buyer was a sting that hurt more than any physical abuse ever had. He hadn’t cried then. Maybe he didn’t believe it. It was a nightmare, and eventually, he would wake up. Or he couldn’t fathom it yet.

 

The bitter truth was that it was true. Kazuha’s life had been valued in mora. A sum that could be named and paid. His mother had said Kazuha was the most important thing in her life. He was her entire world. What was the weight of the world in gold? Kazuha didn’t know, but he did know it was more than what he was sold for. He’d heard her tears that night. She was there too. It was only the thoughts of his mother that truly broke him. His entire life, she’d been there for him, but as he was taken from their home in the middle of the night, she did nothing but cry?

 

Kazuha blinked away the tears that threatened to suffocate him. He’d always been strong. He wasn’t prone to tears, but never before had he been tested like this.

 

Kazuha wasn’t sure what he’d expected after his and the god’s conversation in the garden. Calling it a conversation was perhaps over exaggerating, but it led to something. Kazuha was given paper and something to write with. Kazuha didn’t care if it was supposed to be a gesture of goodwill or making him feel indebted to the god, but Kazuha now had something of his own.

 

With it, he wrote what he felt. How being taken from his home was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him. The endless rape couldn’t measure up. That was pain and humiliation. In being kidnapped from his home and sold by the people who were supposed to love him, Kazuha’s heart was torn from his chest.

 

If Kunikuzushi ever wanted to install that sort of pain, he’d have to rip Kazuha’s chest open and take his heart in his own hands. Crushing it would do everyone a favour. Kazuha wrote of the pain of being claimed against your will. About how he was passed between hands as easily as coins, and now he was no better than a dog with a cruel owner. Kazuha was nothing.

 

He wrote of the smell of what had once been home. About blisters and hard training. He even wrote about the girl that he never loved and never would, but their friendship was precious to him. He wrote of his mother’s smile and her strong arms. She was a smith. Not Kaedehara by birth but taught the Isshin art by Kazuha’s father. She was a prodigy. She was the creator of Kazuha’s sword which was long gone. Still his, but no longer by his side.

 

As night came, Kazuha burned them all. They were for no one’s eyes but his own, just like how the details of his life were for him to know and no one else.

 

He hadn’t really told Kunikuzushi anything about himself that day in the garden, but he knew the god had noticed Kazuha’s confidence as he asked if Kazuha was any good as a swordsman. Perhaps with a sword, Kazuha would feel more like himself. For now, a brush and ink would have to do.

 

Kazuha enjoyed his newfound freedom. When Kunikuzushi wasn’t calling for him at night, the palace walls felt more like walls and less like the bars of his cage. He didn’t like it here, far from, since every night brought a fear of intimacy. But it was better. Kazuha wasn’t even sure if he feared pain or pleasure anymore.

 

When Kazuha was finally called for, all Kunikuzushi wanted was company. It had Kazuha standing like a fool by his door, unsure what to do before Kunikuzushi gestured for him to have a seat. He hadn’t brought his materials that day, but Kunikuzushi offered some paper he had lying around instead. Kazuha hated his kindness just like he hated how his body shivered at the memory of the last time the god fucked him. He hated watching him in all his beautiful glory.

 

Half god, he reminded himself. He was strong, but in terms of divinity, the man wasn’t whole. To Kazuha, that implied there had to be a loophole somewhere. He was half man. Somewhere, there had to be a way to end his life. Kazuha wouldn’t be free until the god was dead. It was Kazuha, or him. The physician had said as much the first time they met. She was also the one who told him the god was immortal, crushing all hope his venerable little heart had carried.

 

“There must be something,” Kazuha had tried as he visited the woman five days after she stitched his ear up. He’d spent the last two days in Kunikuzushi’s company, trying to understand why he chose to have Kazuha around if he wasn’t going to fuck him. Not that he wanted to, but Kazuha couldn’t focus in his presence. Every poem was like dragging stones against glass. What was Kazuha doing there if he wasn’t even allowed to speak? It fuelled the fire in his chest. The feeling that he could boss Kazuha around without it being in an intimate setting only shrank the walls keeping Kazuha trapped. Kazuha hadn’t forgotten his promise.

 

“No,” she responded as she removed the tape she’d put in place to keep his stitches from tearing. “No matter what you think you know of him, you’re wrong. You think he breaths?”

 

“He does,” Kazuha responded, raising an eyebrow. He knew he did. He’d felt him breathe against his skin. He had heard him slightly out of breath as he fucked Kazuha for hours.

 

“It’s an act. He doesn’t breathe. He’s learnt to move and behave human, but he doesn’t have to. Why do you think he’s called the heartless god?”

 

“Because he’s a piece of shit?” Kazuha responded, feeling a tug in his chest as he remembered the tender treatment they had last shared. That didn’t matter now. Kazuha was not going to be fooled by the sweet touch of a creature as foul as death itself.

 

“Funny,” she commented before continuing. “The man is hollow inside. There is nothing beating inside his chest. He doesn’t have a heart you can stab, no blood flow to stop. I’m not even sure you could tear him to bits without him slowly coming back together.”

 

Kazuha hated the sound of that. “Have you tried stabbing him?”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” she responded, putting another tape in place. “Besides, I haven’t had to. There have been plenty of assassins doing it for me. He drinks poison without any consequence, and he shrugs any attack with a blade off as nothing.”

 

“Does he bleed?”

 

The woman stopped what she was doing, giving Kazuha a stern look. She didn’t answer. Kazuha took that as a yes, and why would an immortal being bleed? Kazuha kept questioning it as he watched Kunikuzushi work the following day. Kazuha was going crazy. The more time they spent together in silence, the louder Kazuha’s thoughts raced. Kunikuzushi was getting too comfortable in Kazuha’s presence. He had sworn to kill him, and Kazuha was far from tamed. Kunikuzushi must know that.

 

Still they sat there.

 

Kazuha was busy watching Kunikuzushi work when the god suddenly laid the letter opener by his side. A rather long but slender blade. Kazuha still remembered the pain as it tore into the flesh of his hand. Looking down at the still healing wound, Kazuha felt his anger rise again. It would be so easy to take it. He wanted to see for himself if the god could bleed. If he were to fail, Kunikuzushi would kill him. That way it would be over.

 

Kazuha weighed his options. Hope that Kunikuzushi would fuck him as gently as he did last and not thrive in hurting Kazuha for fun, or take his chances right now? Kazuha was dying either way. Now or tomorrow, did it matter?

 

Kazuha had gotten up before his mind had registered what was going on. His legs moved on their own. He had gained some sort of trust by playing the role of an obedient pet. But Kazuha was far from tamed. Far from a loyal lapdog. It wasn’t beneath Kazuha to play pretend a little while longer to get what he wanted.

 

Although hesitant, Kazuha got down on his knees, leaning his head against Kunikuzushi’s thigh. Just like a good dog who wanted attention would. Kazuha contemplated saying something, but it didn’t take long for Kunikuzushi to put his brush down and instead touch Kazuha’s hair. It was a gentle caress, one Kazuha leaned into.

 

“What’s wrong? Do you miss my touch?” He asked, chuckling. Kazuha withheld a shiver. He didn’t miss a thing. The only thing he longed for was freedom.

 

Kunikuzushi got up, turning his back on Kazuha as he proposed they would take a bath together. Kazuha hesitated, not sure getting naked together was the ideal way of going about this. A part of him was hoping he’d be able to kill him right here. But Kunikuzushi wasn’t giving him a choice, so as quietly as possible, Kazuha took the little blade when the god wasn’t looking, and made his way to the lord’s private bath.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha might not be tamed, but a part of him was scared to step out of bounds. The part of him that didn’t like pain. Standing by the warm water, Kazuha felt like he was about to do something he shouldn’t. And it wasn’t trying to kill the man that worried him. It was warm water.

 

Kazuha swallowed hard and slipped out of his clothes. Hiding the blade along his wrist, Kazuha took one step into the water. Then another one.

 

After weeks of cold water, Kazuha had forgotten the feeling of warm water against his skin. He couldn’t help but sink into it, allow it to envelop him slowly. He wanted to cry due to the water’s gentle embrace. It soothed his bruises and warmed his sore muscles. All of the abuse washing away, evaporating in its warmth.

 

Kazuha sat down by the edge, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He knew what he needed to do, and now, knife hidden beneath the surface, he was more sure than ever. He wanted this. Compared to what he’d felt as Kunikuzushi touched him last, Kazuha wanted this with both mind and soul. His body was an instrument with one single goal in mind.

 

The sliding door opened and shut, and there he was again. Kunikuzushi walked over to the edge of the water, untying his robe before casually dropping it to his feet. Kazuha tore his gaze away then. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He’d seen the other just about fully naked before, and still he chose to look away? What was he, a teenager? Not to mention, they were fucking. Kunikuzushi saw Kazuha all the time. Only reason Kazuha hadn’t seen the other fully nude was due to the position he usually found himself in.

 

Kunikuzushi took a seat opposite Kazuha, quick to close his eyes and lean his head back. His hair was in a low arrangement, secured with an ornate hairpin keeping it in place. The god was, in every way, no matter how Kazuha tried to deny it, the most gorgeous man Kazuha had ever laid eyes on.

 

His fair, almost porcelain skin was free of scars and signs of age. His ink coloured hair framed his face and all his perfect angles. The sharp angle of his jaw was blade like. The red lining his eyes made him look dangerously beautiful. In this moment, Kazuha was sure he was the most beautiful he’d ever seen him. He, with his generally stoic face was now relaxed, his mouth slightly ajar. His chest moved as he breathed slowly. According to the physician, it was all an act. A convincing one.

 

Kazuha watched his neck and upper chest closely. If he cut his neck, would he still breathe? Kazuha shook that thought away. He had to go straight for the heart. If there was a heart. Kazuha was about to find out.

 

Kunikuzushi raised his head, that soft blue meeting Kazuha’s eyes. His hand came out of the water, slender fingers beckoning him to come closer. Kazuha moved without question, sliding through the water, closer to his prey. He didn’t waste a second, not allowing Kunikuzushi a chance to touch him. He slashed at Kunikuzushi’s throat, hoping to distract him, then he lunged for his heart.

 

The knife was only inches from Kunikuzushi’s chest, the blade caught in the god’s grip. But there it was. Suspended.

 

Kazuha was done for.

 

His heart dropped, fear taking over him. He thought he’d get closer. He’d barely even nicked Kunikuzushi’s neck and the knife was nowhere near his heart. Kazuha wasn’t strong enough, not quick enough. He could hardly focus as the knife was carefully taken from his grip. Kazuha wasn’t putting up any resistance.

 

Kazuha could feel his face drain of blood as Kunikuzushi spoke of the blade, plunging into the earth outside the bath. Kazuha wanted him to hold it. To drive it straight through Kazuha’s heart and kill him quickly.

 

Kazuha should have known Kunikuzushi wouldn’t kill him quick. He’d make him suffer first. Kazuha was practically shaking as Kunikuzushi pulled him close, holding him almost like a lover would.

 

“I knew you hadn’t folded for me just yet,” Kunikuzushi said as a cold smile crept over his features.

 

Kazuha had got it all wrong. Kunikuzushi had probably waited for him to do something. He wasn’t giving Kazuha freedom because he deserved it. The god had stalked him out to see what Kazuha would do, and judging by his reaction, Kazuha had done exactly what the god thought he would.

 

“You might have enjoyed our previous night together, but I know you hated how it made you feel. You hated that I did that to you,” Kunikuzushi forced their bodies together. Kazuha felt cold and stiff against a body supposedly hollow. Yet, he radiated warmth. Still Kazuha could feel the lord’s hard cock against him.

 

Kunikuzushi had seen right through Kazuha that night. Kazuha hadn’t seen a thing.

 

Kunikuzushi caressed his cheek. He did it so convincingly that Kazuha feared he would forgive him. The look in his eyes was one of adoration. Kazuha was his prized obsession, his to care for or ruin as he saw fit.

 

A new fear began festering inside Kazuha. The god was insane. He wouldn’t kill Kazuha yet, but he would punish him. Kazuha’s transgression had no doubt angered him, but he wouldn’t give Kazuha up yet.

 

“You thought that by playing the part I wished for you, I’d let my guard down. You just had to stay on my good side and wait for an opportunity, is that it?”

 

Yes.

 

Kazuha lowered his gaze. This cold anger tasted familiar. It was similar to his father’s. Kunikuzushi’s tone was mocking, although gentle. But he was angry, and Kazuha, although in fear, felt himself shrink in shame. Like a child caught doing what they shouldn’t.

 

Kazuha closed his eyes as Kunikuzushi’s hand continued to caress his skin. He didn’t want to see. He tried to breathe and shut him out. Just like he had done those nights in his cell.

 

Then Kunikuzushi spoke again. His voice was cold as ice.

 

Then came the sound.

 

A wave of nausea washed over Kazuha, and he quickly bit his lip not to scream. All that escaped him was a weak whimper.

 

He watched in horror as Kunikuzushi effortlessly snapped Kazuha’s ring finger in two. The snapping sound echoing in Kazuha’s skull. Then came the third finger.

 

Kazuha bit down so hard he could taste blood. He refused to make a sound. But it was impossible. He wanted to slam his head into the stones lining the bath hoping it would make the pain stop.

 

As his thumb had its bone snapped like a twig, Kazuha could hardly tell up from down. He couldn’t feel his fingers, and at the same time, he wanted to scream out in pain. His blood pulsed, his vision spotting before his eyes.

 

Kunikuzushi grabbed Kazuha’s chin, forcing him to raise his head. Had Kazuha had enough?

 

Hardly.

 

Kazuha spat in his face. Blood and saliva ran down his perfect cheek. Kazuha wanted to punch him. Break that porcelain skin and watch it fall to pieces. Kazuha didn’t have time to imagine the god’s broken shards before his head was forcefully hit against the stones. It made Kazuha’s head spin, his gaze blurry. Things were getting dark around him. A deep shade of red covered one of his eyes, blinding him.

 

Kazuha hardly understood what had happened to him before a sharp pain stabbed his back. He tried to make it stop, but he wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t differentiate why he was in pain. He felt like Kunikuzushi was carving his skin off his back. Or exposing his spine. A stark white as his bones and ribs decorated his open flesh like the hands of an embrace.

 

The pain almost made Kazuha numb, no longer sure if he was awake or dreaming. He was suffering a nightmare. He needed it to stop.

 

Whatever happened to him, Kazuha couldn’t tell. He was drowning in agony. The pain made his head ache. There was a rhythm to his pain. A painful, splitting rhythm that Kazuha recognised all too well.

 

When Kunikuzushi slipped out of him, Kazuha practically crumbled in on himself. All he could see was red.

 

All he could feel was pain.

 

Kazuha would be better off dead.

 

At least he knew Kunikuzushi bled red.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha quickly ran down the hall. He ran as quick as his legs could carry him, which wasn’t very fast.

 

He passed a light slipping through a sliding door ajar. Curiosity had him sliding it up further.

 

His father was there. He was working at his desk. He didn’t acknowledge Kazuha’s presence, but the boy was still mesmerised by the way his father’s hands worked and how his eyes scanned every line he read.

 

Two arms encircled his waist, and Kazuha was swept off his feet. He giggled hysterically as his mother imitated the growls and snarls of a yokai wanting to eat him. Kazuha had decided the rules of the game, but he hadn’t thought she’d catch him that quickly.

 

Both still laughing, his mother put him down, and Kazuha raised his hands in surrender.

 

“You’re too fast, Mom!” He declared, a wide smile on his face still. He took her hands in his little ones and looked her in the eyes. “You are a slow Yokai.”

 

Kazuha contemplated his words, his brows furrowed deep before speaking. “You have to catch me again,” he decided after a long contemplation, searching for a reason for his early capture.

 

His mother laughed, clutching his hands. “I thought I ate you?”

 

Kazuha shook his head, making up a story about how he wasn’t very tasty, so she spat him out. She let it slide. He was just a kid.

 

With a kind smile, she gave him a light push. “I’ll give you ten seconds!”

 

It was enough to get the boy running again.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha woke slowly. The bedding was familiar. The scent clean. A wet cloth dabbed at his forehead. He closed his eyes, the tears still latching to his eyelashes falling down his face.

 

“You talk in your sleep.”

 

Kazuha had nothing to answer her. He hadn’t said a word, not even as he was carried to her office. He was hardly conscious when he was laid, naked and wet, on her exam table. He had a vague memory of her cursing and moving around.

 

There had been a lot of blood. There was still blood on the floor beneath him. A mix of water and worthless blood.

 

Kazuha tried moving, but the physician was quick to stop him. “Don’t move.” Her hands hindered him from moving to lie on his back. He remembered the pain.

 

“What has he done to me?” Kazuha asked, his voice hardly audible. He glanced at the woman, her mouth pressed into a tight line. Then she shook her head, pushing Kazuha down again to take care of his back.

 

Kazuha obliged quietly, choosing to let her work and for him to continue to live in oblivion. He could tell from the way she moved that whatever had happened was limited to the area between his shoulder blades. Kazuha knew Kunikuzushi was obsessed with Kazuha’s beauty. He probably hadn’t peeled his skin off. Kunikuzushi often fucked him from behind, and Kazuha doubted he wanted to see Kazuha’s flayed back when he did.

 

The physician helped Kazuha sit up while she bandaged his torso. Kazuha kept his gaze down, his bangs hiding his face. He was so tired. A part still burned bright in his chest because he should have understood Kunikuzushi wouldn’t let him die. He was, for a change, furious with himself. He was an idiot, too quick to jump at his chance for freedom. Just like he had when he tried to escape. He lacked the patience to play the long game.

 

And now, Kazuha didn’t have the energy to fight. Every time he did, the god laughed in his face, quelling whatever fire Kazuha still nurtured. Tears burned his eyes again, silently dripping down the white sheet he was currently using as cover.

 

“What did you do?” The woman asked, as she once more sat down in her usual chair and Kazuha had lain down again. This time, facing her.

 

“I met Kunikuzushi in the hall earlier. I don’t know how to explain it, he looked like his usual self, but… he was angry.” She tilted her head. “I thought you were dead. Almost hoped that you were. Then there you were, more fucked up than you’ve ever been, so Kazuha, what — did you do?”

 

“I tried to kill him,” Kazuha admitted quietly. She sighed, but she didn’t scold him. She’s already done that several times before. Kazuha didn’t listen, and he didn’t learn.

 

“So, you weren’t the loyal pet he hoped for, were you?”

 

Kazuha cringed. He didn’t like those words out of her mouth. He wasn’t a pet. Especially not one grovelling at the feet of a god.

 

“I’m no one’s dog,” he said, but his voice came out no louder than a whisper. Lacking conviction. Just a faint breath passing between his lips, more a desperate plea than a statement.

 

The woman straightened her back and put a hand on Kazuha’s shoulder, then she spoke the words that made Kazuha fall to his knees to beg the god for forgiveness once they met. To fight the urge to shy away from Kunikuzushi’s hands although he only touched his hair and back. A back that stung like fire under his touch.

 

“You are now.”

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha was given time to rest. He spent all that time outside, not being able to stand either the physician’s office or his own cramped room. He couldn’t breathe, his back itchy as the cut skin slowly mended itself. He needed to feel cool air.

 

Sometimes he could hear the god walk by. It was a distinctive sound Kazuha had learnt to recognise. His steps were barely audible, but still Kazuha could feel every step like booming thunder. It made his body freeze in place, gaze forward. Then he’d breathe slowly until the storm passed. Kunikuzushi didn’t claim him. He never got near.

 

And ever so slowly, Kazuha began to relax. He allowed the physician to sit with him. They didn’t speak, not at first. She spoke, but Kazuha didn’t answer. He had nothing to say. But slowly, he began commenting on her words, answering her questions. He knew he had her to thank for his days of rest. She claimed to have given the god a handful. Kazuha didn’t doubt that she had. He, although reluctantly, listened to her. Somewhat at least.

 

“Has he always been this cruel?” He asked one day.

 

She gave him a bittersweet smile. “Not always. I heard that once he was a fair ruler. Caring even. But time takes its toll. He’s several hundred years old, life must get boring. Humans must slowly and surely become dull, don’t you think?”

 

“So, you torture them?”

 

“I think you can thank being his favourite for that.”

 

His favourite. Kazuha wanted to laugh. In the face of his misery, Kazuha could do nothing but laugh. If humans became boring, did that mean Kazuha was the exception to that rule? Like a new exotic flower. Kunikuzushi wasn’t shy to show his adornment of Kazuha. Regrettably, he wasn’t gentle with his belongings. He wasn’t kind. He wasn’t anything but cruel. The marking on his back itched. Healing was a painful process. It had been seven days.

 

“I’ve told you before. He might be cruel now, but he isn’t cruel to me. Me and his advisor have always been by his side. We’ve always been treated fairly.”

 

“Is her family also one to have been here forever?” Kazuha asked, hating the words. Knowing whole families were caught in this hell, suffering throughout generations.

 

“You could say that. We have it in common, I suppose. It’s good to have a friend, especially a female, to survive with in a place like this.”

 

Kazuha turned his head to look at her. She wore a gentle smile. She valued that friendship. Maybe even more than she let on. Kazuha chose not to ask. He wasn’t the one to comment on what others did in the shadows, nor who they spent their time with.

 

“It’s good that you have a friend like that,” Kazuha said, ignoring the possible implication and how she’d claimed Kunikuzushi able to show kindness. Kazuha knew that already. Kunikuzushi was as fair as she’d claimed to be. As gentle as Kazuha deserved. And Kazuha was his. How Kunikuzushi treated him depended on Kazuha.

 

“You have friends too. You’re not alone.”

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

That night, Kazuha’s rest was over. Kazuha was scared for what would happen once he stepped through those doors leading into the lord’s bedroom, but once he entered, he was met with gentle words and careful touches. Kunikuzushi tied him up, but it was a kind gesture. A soft one, leaving him incapable of using his arms, but not tied down. He had never been covered in so many ropes, and yet he had more opportunity to move than ever before. He wasn’t tied to the bed, nor did the rope cut into his skin.

 

Kazuha knew he was used for sex and would be this night as well, so when his pants fell to the floor, he didn’t question nor fight it. His situation was the same. They were the same. Kazuha was Kunikuzushi’s pet. He wouldn’t do anything to stop it.

 

What he hadn’t counted on was coming face to face with the double-edged sword that was his own pleasure. Something Kunikuzushi used against him in a way that was both humiliating and gentle. He was grateful for the careful treatment and not being forced on his back but towering above Kunikuzushi was a new experience. Looking into his indigo eyes left Kazuha terrified. The lord’s gaze was on him, watching his every move. He was mistrusting and he deserved to be.

 

But Kazuha didn’t mind being on top. He could determine the pace and make sure he was comfortable enough. At least until Kunikuzushi grabbed his hips and showed once more who was in control. Kazuha hated how he couldn’t force himself not to enjoy it. When Kunikuzushi took care of him, Kazuha took pleasure in the sex. It didn’t matter that he continued to tease and control Kazuha’s stimulation. It was a pain he could suffer.

 

When Kunikuzushi sat up, forcing the two to breathe the same air, Kazuha found it harder to keep his composure. Even after reaching their climax and biting back spiteful comments, Kazuha struggled to face Kunikuzushi. He kept his gaze turned away, feeling the other’s breath on his skin.

 

Kunikuzushi caressed his lower back, his lips so close Kazuha thought he’d kiss his skin. But then his teeth found their mark, biting down hard after saying he wished to be worshipped.

 

As the others teeth sank into his skin, he briefly wondered if the heartless god was lonely.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha was rarely left alone again. Wherever the lord went, Kazuha was brought with. Even to those meetings Kazuha knew Kunikuzushi loathed. Kazuha hated them too. Next to Kunikuzushi, revealing clothing and a hand wrapped in bandages, Kazuha looked just like the lord’s plaything. One he could show off.

 

At least that was what he believed. It took only a day or two for Kunikuzushi to order him to stay in the garden while he settled the affairs and meetings alone. That became Kazuha’s only refuge.

 

Kunikuzushi offered him help with anything. Someone to write for him. Servants to clothe and bathe him. His meals to be served in the lord’s room. Kazuha could only deny the first but continued to show his disdain whenever possible.

 

He never shunned the servants who helped him. They were in no better position than he was, simply doing what was ordered. They did not talk. If the women spoke to each other, Kazuha hardly listened.

 

He didn’t speak to anyone besides the physician, and their conversations were mostly about the weather. Or she talked about the palace gossip. Neither was interested, but it kept them somewhat entertained. Some funny detail could make Kazuha laugh, which he allowed himself. A brief reprieve.

 

Kazuha had almost gotten used to the still life. Then came a knock on his door and a voice telling him he was wanted. Kazuha swallowed, knowing what awaited him. It was impressive that he’d gotten this much time to heal at all.

 

Kazuha thought about dying. He felt like a sick patient who had accepted that they would slowly dwindle and die. One could let disease win or take an easy way out. Kazuha had thought of what the physician told him many times. Playing along. Take medicine, slow the pace of poison in his body. Lessen the pain.

 

It took everything he had to look Kunikuzushi in the eyes and defy him again. Only for a second as the words refused to leave his throat. He paid for that. The pain around his neck was enough to force the words out.

 

“I want to touch you.”

 

“Don’t just use me, let me pleasure you.”

 

“Let me prove that I can be good for you.”

 

It was all a desperate attempt to survive another night. All in the name of survival.

 

Kunikuzushi had looked at him like he would kill Kazuha should he open his mouth again. Then his brows didn’t frown as deeply, instead his mouth opened to reprimand Kazuha. Then he just stood there. Looking at Kazuha as if he had grown a second head. Like he didn’t know what to do. Even as he touched Kazuha’s face, he looked shocked in a way Kazuha had never seen.

 

Kazuha’s stomach dropped, knowing these momentary seconds were precious. Maybe he’d kill Kazuha now. His grip around Kazuha’s neck still lingered on his skin. The god’s strength was terrifying. It would be so easy for the god to break the bones in Kazuha’s neck. Kazuha wanted to close his eyes, but fear kept them open.

 

The hand on his cheek tilted Kazuha’s head, and as the god leaned forward, Kazuha could already see those sharp teeth aiming to rip his throat out. Tear into his skin and leave them both coated in red. Kazuha’s ripped carotid artery slowly letting his life pour out beneath the god’s feet. Then it would be over.

 

But soft lips were placed on his own. Cold but soft, kissing Kazuha gently. Slow and careful, like a kiss was a foreign experience. Not an inexperienced one. Kazuha swallowed his fear, studying himself with every movement of their lips. When the god’s tongue slipped inside his mouth, he allowed himself to surrender fully. Embrace the role he’d chosen to play. Be his. Be good. Pleasure him.

 

Everything that followed passed in a blur. Kazuha allowed the god to lead. With his hands free he didn’t object to a single command, always trying to please the other by feigning confidence, relying on what little knowledge about sex he had, and by following orders. Kunikuzushi in turn, held him gently and treated him kindly. His kisses were cold, but Kazuha quickly felt his body and mind succumb to pleasure within his god’s hands.

 

While his body burned it was easy to play the part. Kunikuzushi’s hands on his body had him asking for more despite hardly being able to kiss him back. Kazuha couldn’t even hold his moans in, and when the lord finally pushed inside him, Kazuha gripped the sheets hard in pure bliss.

 

He felt so good he hardly had time to be ashamed. He’d felt this way beneath the god before but this time he allowed himself to enjoy it. Like the feeling of Kunikuzushi’s cock sliding in and out of him. Almost begging him to fuck him harder.

 

When Kunikuzushi told him to call him by his name, Kazuha almost didn’t hear it. He was so close, too close to focus, and yet, he allowed the god’s real name to spill from his lips. He said it again and again. It was all he could do as the pressure kept building up inside him.

 

He hardly knew what words left his mouth. Swear word. Praise. His name. Kunikuzushi fucked him so good it hardly mattered. When Kazuha reached his climax for a third time, he hardly knew up from down until Kunikuzushi kissed him again.

 

Kazuha knew one thing, being a good whore for him would save him for now. It didn’t quell the fire. On the contrary, his burning skin again lit the fire within him.

 

He might be the one on his back with his legs spread wide, making the god believe he was in control, but Kunikuzushi couldn’t see what Kazuha could see. What Kazuha did to him. How he yearned to touch him. How his need to ravage him made him allow Kazuha to touch his skin. The god put his tongue in the mouth of a dog.

 

Kazuha smiled.

 

Look at you.

 

He hated him. Feared him. But for now, Kazuha would do what he could. Play along. Play the long game. After what they’d just done, Kazuha thought himself ready for anything. That proved wrong when the god led him to his private bath. Just stepping through the door was a challenge.

 

That was when the god kissed his lips and whispered comforting words into his ear. Kazuha had always been good with people. He knew if they meant him harm. Almost like the air around them gave it away. In the bath that night, Kazuha felt no hostility from Kunikuzushi at all. None of his usual horrifying aura to be seen.

 

Kazuha dared to close his eyes in the other’s company. He dared relax and allow the warm water to soothe his skin. To wash away what he’d done.

 

Kazuha opened his eyes to watch Kunikuzushi. Just for a second, he allowed himself to adore him. His divine beauty. The slender but strong hands that more often than not had brought Kazuha nothing but pain.

 

He closed his eyes again, remembering the gentleness of his voice and touch as those hands broke Kazuha’s bones one at a time. The same gentle touch had lingered on his skin tonight. The same sweet caress now slid across the wet skin on his legs.

 

And still Kazuha felt no fear. Not right now. Not as Kunikuzushi ordered him to sink down on his length once more. Not as the god washed his skin and asked about old scars.

 

Kazuha answered his questions only lying once. The god didn’t notice. Kazuha loved his mother. No matter how things had become, Kazuha could never truly hate his mother. Their relationship was in no way strained.

 

The lord had mocked him so many times for being sold by his parents but when he asked, he almost came across as caring. Kazuha guessed he must have seen it wrong. There was no way the other man didn’t find the joke as funny as he always had.

 

Kazuha’s suffering was his opium.

 

Kazuha didn’t allow himself to think otherwise. To live he needed to be ready for anything.

 

Kunikuzushi looked like a man. Bled like a man. Fucked like a man.

 

He held Kazuha as a lover would. Whispered sweet nothings in Kazuha’s ear, just like a lover would.

 

Kazuha allowed himself to be held. Forced himself to accept that this cage of limbs was his home. A cold chest to be his pillow.

 

Kunikuzushi was no man. Kazuha, in his hands, were little more than a bird. They weren’t lovers.

 

Still, Kazuha sank in deep blue silk, pulling the god along to the bottom, allowing both to drown.

 

Kunikuzushi looked differently at him now. His bored or superior look had changed. He looked at Kazuha like they were acquainted in terms and conversation, now naked, breath heavy. There was curiosity in both.

 

While Kunikuzushi searched for Kazuha, Kazuha sought a way out. Ways to get closer. Close enough to crawl inside his skin and breathe his red blood in.

 

Could he die? Could he breathe? Kazuha was deep in thought, not having written a word on the papers ahead of him when Kunikuzushi sighed once more.

 

He wore a light frown, hand leaning against his temple. Kazuha had learnt to recognise the signs of the god’s mood.

 

Kazuha pushed his chair back before sliding down the floor.

 

“Kaedehara.”

 

A warning. Perhaps.

 

“Mhm.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Kazuha had crawled beneath the table and under Kunikuzushi’s workspace. The god didn’t question him until he was under the desk.

 

Kazuha let his hands slide up Kunikuzushi’s thighs, withholding an answer. His fingers found the end of the knot keeping Kunikuzushi’s pants in place and tugged at the end, allowing it to unravel.

 

“You seem distressed.”

 

“And you think you are enough to change my mood?”

 

Kazuha furrowed his brows in contemplation. Did he think he was enough? A voice in him cowered, but another spoke louder.

 

He can’t keep his hands off you. He wants you to want him. He might sound annoyed, but he’s pleased. He’s hard just seeing you kneel down there.

 

So Kazuha withheld an answer, peeling the layers of clothing aside. Kunikuzushi was hard. Kazuha wanted to laugh. Like this shit would be difficult. Like the god could take big but pine for him after just one touch?

 

Kazuha didn’t laugh. His miserable state was beyond tears or laughter.

 

It just was.

 

So, he lightly licked the tip before taking it into his mouth. Just briefly. Then he moved on to using his tongue, running it playfully down the erect length. Kunikuzushi didn’t make a sound, no doubt challenging Kazuha, who continued his teasing. Not until his free hand found its way into Kazuha’s hair did he know he’d played around enough. This was the silent order to put the cock in his mouth before Kunikuzushi would force him, so Kazuha complied.

 

He could hear Kunikuzushi put the pen down. The fingers in his hair gently caressed his scalp as Kazuha continued to suck his cock. He was so focused on breathing that the sudden knock on the door startled him enough to pull off.

 

Almost.

 

The hand in his hair held him locked in position. If anything, pushing him further down, allowing the god’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

 

“Stay.”

 

Kazuha breathed out his nose, trying not to think about how he couldn’t satisfy his lungs. How Kunikuzushi ordered the one behind the door to enter and knowing what they were up to wasn’t covered by the desk.

 

Not even a little bit.

 

Kazuha didn’t move as the door opened and a voice he didn’t recognise began to speak. Kazuha couldn’t hear any words. He couldn’t think of anything except Kunikuzushi in his mouth. His fingers dug into the god’s thighs.

 

The hand in his hair began massaging the back of his head as he spoke to the one who’d entered the room. It allowed Kazuha to raise his head somewhat, only to be pushed down again. But he didn’t hold Kazuha in place again. He wanted him to move.

 

Kazuha wasn’t sure what was worse, being seen warming the god’s cock in his mouth or actually sucking him off.

 

Not that it mattered.

 

The guest left, and as the doors closed, Kunikuzushi sighed in deep relief. “Oh, aren’t you obedient…”

 

And without a choice, Kazuha reminded himself as Kunikuzushi moved his hips in tandem to Kazuha’s rhythm. Kazuha let him chase his high, moaning his name.

 

After reaching his climax, Kunikuzushi released him, and Kazuha wasn’t quick to fall back on his ass, panting hard.

 

Kunikuzushi laughed, covering his mouth. “Don’t look so glum Kaedehara, this was your own idea.”

 

Hardly, but Kazuha bit back the words.

 

Kunikuzushi bit his lip as he studied Kazuha on the floor, contemplating. “Come up here.”

 

Kazuha followed orders, getting himself off the floor and instead standing in front of the other.

 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Take your pants off.”

 

Not reacting quickly enough, Kunikuzushi reached for his waist, their lips crashing together. Kazuha had barely caught his breath before Kunikuzushi had undone his pants and hoisted him up on the desk. The god had no patience.

 

Kunikuzushi kissed him like a hungry animal. His hands caressed his body, one hand caressing his ass before pushing a finger inside him.

 

Kazuha gasped into the kiss, his hips flush against the desk while his back arched over papers and ink.

 

“I want you to moan my name,” Kunikuzushi ordered, no louder than a whisper, as his fingers stroked Kazuha’s insides. He shivered, biting back a moan instead of following his master’s command. He should obey, for his own sake, but Kazuha was beginning to learn with every passing day what kind of resistance he could put up. What would keep the god — who wanted him defiant — entertained? 

 

Kunikuzushi laughed, his lips kissing Kazuha’s skin. His teeth gracing him as that low laugh made Kazuha’s chest flutter. He hated that feeling. Especially now, locked in place between the desk cutting into his skin and the demon above him.

 

“I don’t want to hear a word from you unless it’s when you moan my name…” Kunikuzushi purred, pushing one of Kazuha’s thighs flat against the desk. The loss of Kunikuzushi’s fingers was soon exchanged for his cock entering him slowly. Kazuha’s other leg was pressed against his chest as the god pushed the two closer with every inch he buried inside him.

 

Kazuha let his head fall over the edge of the desk, tears of pleasure running down into his hair. A quiet moan passed his lips. He couldn’t help it.

 

“That’s it,” Kunikuzushi encouraged. “Let them hear the affection of your worship.”

 

Kazuha wasn’t listening. Kunikuzushi had begun moving and Kazuha’s mind was choosing to push the god’s praise out and focus on the pleasure of the act. He’d learnt to enjoy his torment. Kunikuzushi’s hand caressed his bare stomach, travelling up his clothed chest before settling around Kazuha’s throat. He squeezed lightly, a pressure reminding Kazuha that this was all they were. The god and a body to fuck.

 

Kunikuzushi pulled Kazuha up, sliding out of him only long enough for him to turn Kazuha around and push him face down against the desk. Then he was inside of him again, thrusting harder and faster than in their previous position. Kazuha gripped the edge of the table hard as the rhythmic motion had him sliding helplessly over notes and documents. His own neglected cock rubbed against the desk, making Kazuha ache for release. Kunikuzushi forced one of Kazuha’s knees up on the desk, allowing him to fuck him deep and hard.

 

Kazuha swore as this new angle allowed Kunikuzushi to find his sweet spot, making Kazuha dizzy from the sweet abuse. Kazuha came with a loud cry, cum coating his stomach as well as the papers that had been the cause of all this.

 

Kazuha got no chance to catch his breath as the god continued to fuck him relentlessly. He didn’t know how much longer it lasted. Kazuha had lost track of the minutes passing, overstimulated and tired, he couldn’t keep up. Eventually it did end, Kunikuzushi forcing Kazuha’s head down as he came inside him. They both stayed quiet, panting hard, Kunikuzushi remaining lodged inside him.

 

The hand pushing his head down relaxed, stroking his hair. Kazuha found it calming. Almost like how his mother had comforted him once.

 

Then the lord’s soft cock slid out of him, and cum quickly started to flow out of his ass. “Tsk.” Kunikuzushi caught the fluid, stroking Kazuha’s inner thigh and up his ass again. “I wish it wouldn’t do that. I’d prefer if you keep it.”

 

“I thought you liked that I can’t get pregnant,” Kazuha countered, glancing over his shoulder. The god still held Kazuha bent over the desk, knee pushed on the tabletop, ass fully exposed. Kunikuzushi grinned. “I don’t care about that. I’m a god, the least you can do is keep my seed, don’t you think?”

 

Half-god, Kazuha thought, not answering. He couldn’t get pregnant so what use was the god’s divine cum in his ass?

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha no longer felt his blood run cold when the god approached. Kazuha spent most of his time by his side anyway, so time apart was temporary and short. It was a space of time in which Kazuha had time to himself, waiting for the god’s return.

 

Kazuha didn’t hate it. Being alone was almost worse. When he was alone, he could once more think of his family. The things he’d lost. Fish. What use was staring at fish, he wondered as he watched the koi make another loop around the pond.

 

Round and around. One end of the pond to the other. Round and around. His own room and the lord’s chambers. Round he went, between a space of air to breathe and the cold cage that was his god’s embrace.

 

But Kunikuzushi wasn’t as cold anymore. Not as cruel. He touched him almost lovingly. His grip was hard but did not hurt. His bites gentle and his hands kind. The lines between whore and lover had blurred in a way Kazuha could not and did not want to wrap his head around.

 

He didn’t like how he, he of all people, could miss the intimacy. If Kunikuzushi were busy with his duties, Kazuha couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He wasn’t happy, but nor did his heart cry restlessly.

 

Instead it made loops. It sank in his stomach when the god left him for days. It beat violently during sex. When their eyes met or lips collided, it beat so hard Kazuha was afraid it would burst out his chest. He hated it. He missed the quiet.

 

At least he thought he did.

 

Kazuha’s habits were few. He wanted to write, but his broken hand wouldn’t let him. He’d spent restless hours at the physician’s office but even that was sparse. He had no reason to go when Kunikuzushi didn’t beat him black and blue and draped in red as the sun set.

 

Kazuha didn’t like how placid he’d become. How he’d gone from pretending to not knowing what was pretend and not. Kunikuzushi still called him a whore, but lately, his name was more common. Kazuha didn’t hesitate to say the god’s name. He didn’t have to pretend to feel good as the god used him. It was shared intimacy.

 

It wasn’t what Kazuha wanted. If even the slightest chance at freedom were within Kazuha’s grasp, he’d take it.

 

During a routine check-up at the physician’s office, Kazuha had little to say. He wanted to ask her about the lord, but feared how it would come out. Nor did he have anything foul to say about him. When she asked if he had been well, Kazuha said he was okay. When asked about injuries, he said he had none. When she asked if anything had changed, Kazuha didn’t answer.

 

“I still want him dead. Nothing has changed,” he said instead after the silence between them grew too heavy. When the words left his mouth, he didn’t recognise the taste. Empty. It made Kazuha sick.

 

“Well, you’re in good health. Still not the weight you came here with when you were undoubtedly a bit healthier than now, but you are recovering. Your hand is healing fine too.”

 

“And my back?”

 

“All good. It will scar, of course. The wound was deep.”

 

Just thinking about the sign between his shoulders and the empty taste of his words was enough to make Kazuha want to throw up. This whole room had been his sanctuary, and every word and curse he’d spoken and every drop of blood spilled here had been his conviction. A promise. Now it was all bland.

 

He should rejoice. He had finally found the safety she’d asked him to find. Play along and it will be better. Could he live like this? Locked up here with no purpose except being content?

 

Like a dog.

 

Kazuha caught the tear that slipped past his defences and down his cheek. Then he gave her as kind a smile as he could muster.

 

“That’s good.”

 

I’m better. I’m healing.

 

She said nothing, her eyes drowning in concern. Pity. She’d been angry with him for throwing his life away to one of pain. Now she truly pitied him. Perhaps he’d been better off dead. Did she regret telling him to smile through it?

 

Kazuha stayed away from there if he could. He spent time alone. He watched the guards come and go. He learnt their names, not that it mattered because they didn’t speak. Not to him at least.

 

He learnt the names of his servants too. They still helped him a lot more than when he arrived, since his hand was still unusable. They were all kind. They kept to themselves. It took weeks for them to dare talk to him as if he were human. Just like how the physician’s office had been a safe space, so were the times when others helped Kazuha wash off or clean his hair. He didn’t encourage them to speak to him, but he entertained their curiosity if they spoke to him.

 

They wanted to ask about Kunikuzushi, he could tell. However, they rarely did. He supposed gossiping about your employer had never done anything good in a place like this. Kazuha knew what was worth answering and what wasn’t. After a while, he noticed he mostly debunked rumours about the god, which he wasn’t sure was either bad or good.

 

After that visit to the physician, his will to talk lessened. His head was full of contradictions he couldn’t understand. Even when he looked at Kunikuzushi did he find himself conflicted.

 

What was his heart trying to tell him? What did he want?

 

Not this.

 

He found himself wondering if it could have been different. The god wasn’t a complete monster, compared to what Kazuha had grown used to. There was a softer side to him that Kazuha had begun to fear almost more than the man who was more demon than a god. One was predictable. The other was not.

 

If Kunikuzushi had been nothing but a wanderer. Would he still have been cruel? Would they have gotten along? Would Kazuha’s heart have beat for him too?

 

Kazuha hated all of it, allowing the god to fuck him senseless to forget it.

 

As they lay together after coming down from their high, the god held him so softly that cool skin almost felt warm. The embrace welcoming, not caging him.

 

“If I set you free right now, where would you go?”

 

“I’d get on the first ship that would take me. Then I’d leave these islands, not looking back.”

 

Kazuha meant it. Freedom was his goal. From his old life. From this. If he never got out of here, Kazuha would remain until he died. He’d live out his days in comfort until Kunikuzushi didn’t want him anymore. Maybe the first signs of ageing would turn the god away. Then he wouldn’t have to be here forever at least. There could be an early end to it.

 

Maybe.

 

But Kazuha wanted to leave. He could feel it in his heart. And Kazuha would leave and go far. He’d get off these islands never to look back. There would be nothing for him here besides despair and ruin. The first boat that would take him would do. Kazuha doubted there was anything he wouldn’t do to get a single ticket out of here.

 

Kunikuzushi did not comment on Kazuha’s answer. The arm holding Kazuha close hugged him tighter. Kazuha wondered if it was an unconscious act or if the god was trying to tell him that the human would go nowhere. Kunikuzushi wouldn’t set him free, and nor would Kazuha be able to escape. Not from him.

 

As the god traced the lines between Kazuha’s shoulder blades, Kazuha knew. The comforting embrace was still, nothing but a cage.

 

That night, Kunikuzushi asked him to stay. To sleep in his bed. Kazuha didn’t believe his ears. Why would he do that? Was this some new way of trying to get under Kazuha’s skin?

 

But the god threw the covers over them both, holding Kazuha close.

 

How was Kazuha supposed to sleep like this? His heart beat violently in his ears. Kunikuzushi must have noticed, but even if he did, he didn’t seem to care. His hand continued to draw comforting patterns across Kazuha’s arm, and slowly but surely, Kazuha dared to relax.

 

What was this? What sort of whore brought comfort like this for a man who sought no comfort?

 

He supposed he wasn’t allowed to complain. The bed was softer than his own and the material of the covers was kind against his skin. The silk fell over them like a wave.

 

Kazuha turned to face the god. The god had closed his eyes. He was awake, but his relaxed features showed he meant for them to stay like this throughout the night. No tricks. No deceiving.

 

Kazuha swallowed. Above anything else, Kazuha knew one thing. Kunikuzushi would never have thrown the covers over them both if he did not trust Kazuha. Sex was one thing, but the once vicious and rabid creature he believed Kazuha to be was now sharing his bed.

 

Kazuha hardly knew himself if that was a wise decision or not.

 

Watching him in the pale moonlight, Kunikuzushi was more beautiful than ever. It was unfair.

 

Kazuha put his head to rest against Kunikuzushi’s chest. Had he not known better, he’d believe he could hear a faint beat beneath his ear.

 

Alas, the only one with a beating heart was himself.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha never slept in his own bed after that night. Kunikuzushi wanted him close, and Kazuha didn’t object. Being close to the god made him feel okay.

 

But not good.

 

Whatever was going on inside his head and chest was not getting better. Distance wasn’t an option, Kunikuzushi would not let him. And getting closer had shown to be a dangerous game.

 

Sliding down beneath his covers without having fucked was an oddity Kazuha could not explain. But the bed had claimed him. The covers swallowed him. He wasn’t a stranger to sleeping with the god anymore.

 

The season was ending, and the weather had become unstable. Cold. Kazuha remembered the physician had told him the god could influence the weather, and the ever-pouring rain seemed to have something to do with the god’s current mood.

 

He looked serene, a bit troubled but not enough to cause the skies to open.

His duties had begun troubling him. His mother’s envoys, who were to arrive that day, were a subject preferably avoided. The god had never spoken about his mother. He had no obligation to do so, but Kazuha had still noticed the sour tone that crept into his voice when she became the topic of his conversation. A difficult relation with a parent was something they had in common.

 

Kunikuzushi had spent a good amount of time at his desk, burning letters as he went. He didn’t usually do that.

 

A lot had been different the past week. Knowing about the envoys, Kunikuzushi had worked twice as hard. He hadn’t bothered with Kazuha more than the embrace in which he held him as night came. Kazuha didn’t mind. He’d been keeping the god company. He’d listened to his sighs. Held his gaze if it ever raised from his desk.

 

Only minutes from having to leave, Kazuha felt sorry for the god. He didn’t want to admit it, but a familiar sadness was in his eyes, and Kazuha couldn’t stand to watch it. The look of someone having something to prove. Someone who’d never been good enough in the eyes of someone meant to love you.

 

Kazuha offered him his hand. A small comfort Kazuha wasn’t sure would be appreciated in the least, but the god’s fingers intertwined with his and Kazuha had to look away. It was dark in the lord’s chambers, but Kazuha knew the god would see his blush anyway.

 

What the fuck was going on?

 

He couldn’t remain within the god’s gaze, should he only look up. Kazuha quickly got up, freeing his hand, only to put them to use, brushing through the god’s hair. He had a meeting to attend. He couldn’t go there like he’d just rolled out of bed. That was the lie Kazuha chose to tell himself in order to try to calm down. His face was uncomfortably warm.

 

Kazuha took his time, running his fingers across Kunikuzushi’s scalp, hoping it would calm him somewhat, before gathering the silky hair into a high ponytail. Then he added the metallic decorative piece, sticking the pin through to keep it in place.

 

The pin had lingered in his grip for only a second. It was a weapon. If he so willed it. But the urge to kill wasn’t there. The flame in his chest lay dormant. At least for now. He wanted him dead. He truly did want him dead. But not tonight.

 

As Kazuha pushed the needle through, he knew he was lying. At least tonight.

 

“You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?” the god asked, once again making Kazuha’s heart flutter.

 

“If that’s what you wish,” he responded, trying to sound indifferent. He feared his voice only came out quieter than usual. The god didn’t say anything else. He quickly got up and walked towards the door. He looked back once and then never again, his frame disappearing through the door.

 

Kazuha breathed out loudly when he was alone. The heavy feeling of the needle in his hands now burned like fire. Only the soothing memory of Kunikuzushi’s hair lessened the pain.

 

The god was so beautiful Kazuha feared his eyes would bleed. His voice was calm. With every day, the god gave him less reason to resent him. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Kazuha had sworn to kill a god. He couldn’t waver now. Kunikuzushi couldn’t hold him and whisper comforting words and think Kazuha would just bend over for him.

 

More or less. Kazuha did bend over for him willingly now, but that was beyond the point he reminded himself.

 

Kazuha wasn’t supposed to reach for his hand. The god wasn’t supposed to take it. Their hands should never entwine. Maybe Kunikuzushi had been right in tying Kazuha up.

 

Maybe Kazuha could one day escape from here without killing him.

 

Kazuha fell asleep pondering this, but the second he felt Kunikuzushi’s hand on him, he woke. Kunikuzushi was always there now when Kazuha woke. He smiled, not understanding why.

 

It wasn’t late but Kunikuzushi proposed they should sleep. Kazuha undressed, and in nothing but his skin did he slide down beneath the covers, waiting for Kunikuzushi to join him. It was so easy to live in his own skin now. He dropped his armour willingly. He allowed hands on him that he’d always wished to cut off.

 

Kazuha’s willingness scared him. Kazuha hardly knew how tired he’d become because he wasn’t awake to notice Kunikuzushi join him. The safety he’d found in that bed was horrifying. But Kazuha had forgotten his fear. He wasn’t afraid to drown anymore. He welcomed it, allowing himself to sink.

 

Kunikuzushi would meet him there. 

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha opened his eyes, his hands moving before he hardly knew why. He caught the stranger’s wrist, catching the knife as she dropped it, and slashed her throat. It had only been seconds.

 

A movement caught his attention, and even before assessing if the other intruder was armed or any danger to him, he’d launched the knife in his hand into her throat.

 

Kazuha’s heart beat firmly within his chest. Adrenaline pumped. His breathing hard without moving.

 

Blood ran down his face. Kazuha hadn’t noticed until now. His body was covered in it. In his lap lay the dead woman.

 

The sound of metal against he floor brought Kazuha’s attention back to reality. The chamber was coming back into view. The red blood more vibrant now.

 

There was a dead woman on him.

 

Disgusted, Kazuha threw her off the bed. Her blood had dyed the ocean blue covers a deep red, soaking through, dampening his still covered body.

 

Kazuha looked over to see Kunikuzushi. His arm bled heavily. A small dent also covered his chest. It had only pierced his skin on the surface. His arm was pierced through.

 

Someone had tried to kill him. Not Kazuha. He couldn’t be sure he hadn’t been next, but the main target was the god by his side.

 

And once again he’d protected a chest that was supposedly empty.

 

Why do you do that?

 

Kazuha’s eyes went wide in surprise. He’d acted so fast. Too fast to truly know what had been going on. He’d killed on instinct. For Kunikuzushi’s life. He’d known that all along. He’d seen the knife sink into the other’s arm and the woman trying to get the better of him.

 

But Kazuha had stopped them. If he hadn’t, he could potentially have been a free man now.

 

Instead here he was, coated in a stranger’s blood, looking at the one holding Kazuha caged, knowing he was the one saving him. And all he did was look back at Kazuha with worry. Like Kazuha was the one whose arm had been impaled.

 

You’re mine.

 

When Kunikuzushi reached over to wipe the blood from his cheek, Kazuha didn’t blink. The god leaned closer, and Kazuha could feel his tongue caress Kazuha’s neck, licking the blood all the way up his lips. Then he kissed him. Kazuha parted his lips, tasting the blood of a stranger on his tongue.

 

You’re mine.

 

The thought repeated itself like a mantra as Kunikuzushi lay him down, kissing him deeply. The blood was sticky on their naked bodies, but Kazuha didn’t mind. He needed Kunikuzushi to fuck him in all this blood. Like the bed finally showed its true form, and they were where they belonged.

 

When Kunikuzushi’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, Kazuha wondered if he’d gone mad. He moved his hips in tandem to his rhythm, he clawed his nails into his bare back. He wanted to choke on the god’s tongue. He wanted to come undone, his body joining the red carnage of the bed. He wanted the god to tear him apart right here and rid him of the sins he would commit in his name.

 

He was so close. So close. He couldn’t even kiss the god properly any more. Just breathe his air. Taste his lips.

 

Then Kunikuzushi stopped, claiming that would be his punishment for whatever he deemed fair. Kazuha would accept it. Although he’d rather been fucked properly in this recreation of hell.

 

Kazuha showered alone. Kunikuzushi didn’t join him, and Kazuha didn’t require assistance. His broken hand hurt like hell. Adrenaline had made him not feel the pain as he, out of habit, used it to kill.

 

And all Kazuha could think of was how Kunikuzushi had looked at him like that. When their eyes met, Kunikuzushi had looked at him with such worry in his eyes that Kazuha’s mind went blank for a few seconds.

 

He touched himself. His good hand running up and down his length just like the god had done only minutes earlier. How rude of him to keep Kazuha hanging after he killed for him.

 

Kazuha bucked his hips into his hand. He’d gone insane, hadn’t he? Allowing his heart to yearn for a god like Kunikuzushi? But they were both going crazy. Kunikuzushi, supposedly immortal, why would he guard his chest? Why did he allow Kazuha to sleep in his bed?

 

Kazuha reached his climax, hiding his face in his aching hand.

 

He wasn’t sure what was right anymore.  

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

“So, you really thought that not telling me about this was a good idea? I swear to the archons, you are such an idiot.”

 

Kazuha leaned his head against his healthy hand as the physician unwrapped his bandaged one.

 

“I forgot about it,” he said, trying to play it off. The pain had returned during the night and unable to hide it from Kunikuzushi, whose eyes once more had filled with something foreign, had been sent to the office first thing in the morning.

 

“You said he healed slower than usual yesterday,” Kazuha pointed out. Her actions slowed for a second but then resumed with their previous vigour.

 

“It’s nothing unusual.”

 

Kazuha pondered her response, assuming she’d experienced fluctuation like this before. She sighed deep, asking him what he was getting at.

 

“I think he’s alive. More so than we think.”

 

“He is alive, you if anyone would know.”

 

“You know what I mean. He has a heart. A functioning one. Why else work so hard to protect it?”

 

Kazuha expected her to disagree and remind him of how the god was in fact immortal. Any attempt on his life would be in vain. But she continued working quietly.

 

“I might, and this is only speculation, but I might have felt something resembling a heartbeat last night.”

 

Kazuha bit his lip, not knowing what this information was worth to himself.

 

“Do you think I could kill him?”

 

“Do you want to?” She looked back up at him with a stern gaze. Kazuha turned his away.

 

“Kazuha, do you want him dead, it’s an easy question.”

 

Kazuha closed his eyes as he responded with how he didn’t know anymore. “He makes me feel like I’m losing my sanity. He doesn’t hurt me. He’s almost nothing but kind, and yeah, it makes me doubt everything. My chest hurts. I find myself wishing he wasn’t this.”

 

Kazuha bit his lip. He was spilling out truths he didn’t even know he could word anymore.

 

“Yesterday, as I killed those women, I once more felt what I thought I lost when he carved that sign into my skin, but when I looked at him, and I faced those indigo eyes filled with worry, the flame in my chest burned out. Just like that.”

 

He looked back at the woman who’d stopped working on his hand. “But I don’t know if I can live like this.”

 

“For a while there, I thought you’d given up on your freedom.”

 

Kazuha knew he hadn’t. He’d told Kunikuzushi the truth when he told him he’d leave these islands if he could. There was nothing for him here. Even if there was something between them, maybe not a feeling as simply described as love, Kazuha did not want it.

 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t recognise myself anymore. I don’t like the way my heart weighs.”

 

Kazuha wasn’t sure if anything he said made any sense. He thought of yesterday, with Kunikuzushi’s hand in his. His heart was playing tricks on him. His ability to forgive chose to try and understand Kunikuzushi, and that wasn’t right.

 

“Does it make a difference, thinking you could kill him but no longer wanting to?”

 

“Who said I don’t want to?” he asked, knowing fully well he’d stated neither yes nor no. She didn’t respond.

 

He left with a threat hanging over him that if he was reckless again, she would not patch him up.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kunikuzushi had become restless. Kazuha couldn’t tell if it was the attempt on his life or something else, but his company seemed to do the opposite of help, so Kazuha tried allowing him space.

 

Thinking back on last time he’d visited the physician and been unable to put his feelings into words, maybe they both needed space. Kazuha was torn. His heart wanting something, he barely knew what. His mind knew better, but at the same time, he was left with no option. There was nothing he could do. His life wasn’t in his hands, and his faith was held in the hands of a god who’d now given them nothing but rain for weeks.

 

Kazuha couldn’t help him. Not this time.

 

It left him restless. Not knowing what to do, he walked the halls while waiting for Kunikuzushi to return from another meeting drawing on for longer than anyone wanted. Kazuha looked out the garden and the pond where he usually sat. He hadn’t been in the garden in a long time due to the rain.

 

Kazuha stopped his pacing.

 

The fish could be seen even from here. Their tails cut through the surface only to go under again. Kazuha was used to the motion and the greenery adorning the mirror of water, but today, even as rain split the surface, something wasn’t right.

 

Kazuha stepped out onto the grass, walking up to the pond. He sank to his knees, wanting to reach into the water, but as his fingers were about to touch the surface to lift the still body of a koi, Kazuha stopped. The dead fish lay belly up, unmoving. Kazuha couldn’t bring himself to remove it, his hands clenching repeatedly. Then they returned to his side.

 

Kazuha was soaked from head to toe. The remaining koi swam with little care for the dead fish.

 

A sickening dread lay against Kazuha’s skin, sticking to his body, weighing him down just like his wet clothes.

 

What difference was there between this one dead fish and himself?

 

Only one.

 

Kazuha still lived.

 

But Kazuha also swam round and around in a pond. He was swimming endlessly. Nothing new happened. He was content with swimming. Wasn’t he?

 

Where they?

 

Were the dead fish content? Did it smile back at him, pretending that swimming endlessly was the life it expected to live?

 

It was simply dead. Kazuha couldn’t take his eyes off it. If he died, everyone here would continue to swim as if he had never been here. He was comfortable and taken care of now, but for how long?

 

Kazuha’s chest sank, threatening to cave in and crush his rib cage. He didn’t want this. Whatever he felt about Kunikuzushi couldn’t compare to the fact that he needed to get out of here.

 

He didn’t know when he’d begun crying. It all mixed with the rain.

 

Are you in pain too, he asked the rain. Were they both searching for comfort where it could not be found?

 

“It’s dead.”

 

The nonchalance in his voice made Kazuha’s stomach tighten. Of course, the god didn’t care for one dead fish. It was only one of many.

 

Kazuha was only another human in the eyes of a god.

 

So Kazuha would not let the god walk away. Not without promising to have the fish taken care of. It was stupid. A waste of divine time even. But he would not let the god leave the matter be.

 

That he questioned Kazuha’s behaviour when they were alone again came as no surprise. When Kazuha didn’t respond, Kunikuzushi did. And when he held Kazuha’s chin so tenderly and told him he would kill him, Kazuha dared not evade his gaze. He couldn’t control his heart, and neither could he talk back because the god only spoke the truth.

 

If Kazuha remained here, he’d do nothing but age, and then Kunikuzushi would kill him himself. And the god was right, Kazuha would let him. So, when the god kissed him, Kazuha reciprocated the gesture.

 

When they fell on the bed, Kazuha welcomed Kunikuzushi’s hungry advances. When he touched him like this, desperately and lovingly, Kazuha could not believe Kunikuzushi didn’t crave Kazuha in the same way Kazuha craved him. It was desperate. Starved.

 

Kazuha could feel the gods hard on against his own. They were both liars.

 

Kunikuzushi’s hand found his throat, and Kazuha relished in his grip. Kazuha wanted the god to fuck him hard enough to forget it all. Just for tonight. He was used to the god’s hands adorning his neck. He almost preferred it that way.

 

Like a leash.

 

That brought Kazuha back to his senses just in time to feel Kunikuzushi squeeze his neck hard. Harder than usual. Hard enough to break. Kazuha couldn’t breathe.

 

His hands fought frenetically but found no grip. The god’s strength was overwhelming and although Kazuha could feel the fabric of his sleeves, he could no longer see him. It was getting dark. Spots danced in Kazuha’s vision.

 

Then everything stopped. Kazuha rolled to his side, coughing violently trying to satisfy his burning lungs. His whole chest threatened to cave in. It hurt so much.

 

When it finally stopped, Kazuha fell back on his back, watching the god crawl over him. Kazuha didn’t dare move. Even as the god in a whisper begged for forgiveness, Kazuha didn’t move.

 

Was he trying to kill him? Did he want to prove that he could? Kazuha couldn’t understand. Still, he wrapped his arms around the god for comfort.

 

He didn’t want to die in a pond.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha had barely seen Kunikuzushi move. He’d been by his side, an unusual position for him to be in, accompanying the lord in the throne room while he worked. The next second, the seat beside him was empty, and in front of the throne he was, blood coating the floor beneath his feet. The woman who spoke just now lay decapitated in red.

 

Kazuha’s mouth hung open in shock. Surprise seemed to settle on everyone’s faces as reality caught up to everyone present. And then the wailing began. Loud, piercing.

 

The god’s gaze found the crying boy, and although he took a step towards him before impaling his body with the sword in his hands, Kazuha got no chance to stop him. An objection had left his lips in tandem with many others, but the sounds reached deaf ears.

 

The boy’s eyes went blank.

 

Quiet tears fell down Kazuha’s face as he held the gaze of the dead boy impaled in the stone floor. The god’s robes falling to the floor woke Kazuha from his trans. The double tap against his thigh was all Kazuha needed to know he should follow him.

 

Kazuha’s legs were shaking as he tried to rise. He kept his gaze on the floor, trying his best not to turn his head and watch the carnage on the floor. That was easier said than done as he crossed the stone floor, his road blocked by a growing pool of blood. Kazuha stared at it, unable to move. This was innocent blood.

 

Kazuha hadn’t even blinked. That’s how fast Kunikuzushi had moved, drawn his sword and beheaded a woman. In the next breath, he killed a child no older than five winters.

 

Rolling thunder reminded Kazuha who was waiting for him, and he quickly made his way around the blood. Kazuha caught up as soon as he could, keeping his head bowed. The truth of what just happened was sinking in. It had gone too fast and the realisation of the power gap between the two was more evident than ever before.

 

Kazuha knew he was just human. He was weak compared to the god in front of him. He could die in the blink of an eye. He was that fragile.

 

Kunikuzushi wasn’t. He could get cut and bleed, but he could not die.

 

When they entered the chamber again, the god fell on the bed with a deep sigh. When he ordered Kazuha to join him, he did so without a second of delay. Any misstep now and Kazuha might be the one taking the god’s quiet rage upon himself. 

 

He lay with his back against the god, allowing him to capture him in his embrace. A kiss against his neck had him holding back a shaky breath. He couldn’t stop crying. Fear had caught him and now held him hard.

 

Kunikuzushi didn’t like it when he cried. It was one of the things he liked punishing him for. So, when the god urged him to turn around, Kazuha fought it. It was a futile fight against someone strong enough to plant a sword in stone, so when they came face to face, Kazuha closed his eyes hard, waiting for whatever would come his way.

 

Kunikuzushi’s tongue ran up Kazuha’s cheek, capturing his tears. Kazuha opened his eyes in surprise. The indigo he met was calm as the sea on a windless day. He gave Kazuha a reassuring smile, stroking his hair. Instantly, Kazuha relaxed.

 

Kunikuzushi kissed his lips. Hesitantly, Kazuha kissed him back. It was soft and gentle. Unusual for them who always kissed with a burning hunger.

 

“I lost my temper.”

 

Kunikuzushi’s lips touched his as he spoke, Kazuha feeling every word. The god wasn’t apologising. It was a simple statement. His way of describing what had happened in the throne room.

 

Kazuha would call it something else. Execution. Unjust. Cruel.

 

Kunikuzushi’s hands found Kazuha’s waist, pulling him closer, forcing their groins together. With slow motions he rolled his hips against Kazuha’s while he kissed his neck. Kazuha raised his gaze, trying to close his mind off to the sensation of the other grinding against his body and his cool lips against his skin. But the slow rhythm had Kazuha’s mind swimming, his cock already reacting to the god’s advancements. The kisses made his skin tingle.

 

The position he’d found himself in made him burn.

 

Kunikuzushi turned him around again, now pressing himself against Kazuha’s ass, his hands pulling Kazuha close, one hand on his chest while the other tilted his head back.

 

His hand on Kazuha’s neck didn’t scare him.

 

The hand on his chest lowered slowly. Over his clothed chest, down his bare stomach until it reached his pants. There it slowed. Contemplated. Kazuha pushed his ass back to meet the god’s tender thrusts.

 

His tears still dried. The fear slowly morphed into lust in a way Kazuha could only describe as detestable. He was crazy for searching for that friction between his clothed ass and the god’s hard cock.

 

The hand on his stomach slipped inside the hem of his pants and Kazuha gasped at the cold fingers touching his genitals. In his hand, Kazuha quickly became fully erect, the god fondling his balls before stroking him slowly to the rhythm of their hips. They were both clothed, both breathing hard. Kunikuzushi’s breath against his neck had his hair stand on end.

 

With the god’s cock rubbing between his ass cheeks and his hand jerking him off, Kazuha was caught in the middle of a fight he could not win. Low whines escaped his lips. He was losing his mind. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t know what to do with his body except accept the tension building up inside him.

 

“Kunikuzushi…—” he breathed, his hand finding the god’s jaw and neck, sliding his fingers into his hair where he held on. The god laughed. The movement of his hand sped up.

 

Kazuha could do nothing but push himself closer to his god, moaning his name. When he was sure he could not take any more, the hand on his cock stilled. Kunikuzushi touched his tip, his finger smearing the precum, making Kazuha whine at the loss.

 

“Tell me you want me.”

 

Kazuha bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to want him. There was blood on his hands. Blood on his body. Scars that would never heal and wounds that would never scar.

 

“Kazuha. Tell me you want me. Tell me that no matter what happens, you’ll want me.”

 

Kazuha sobbed. At the loss of the bliss he’d found himself drowning in but now denied. But also because Kazuha would rather kill himself than admit he wanted Kunikuzushi. He couldn’t want him. It was insane.

 

But Kazuha’s body screamed for him. The god had scared him tonight, but was Kazuha truly scared of him? Did he care about this cage he was in? Kazuha didn’t know. He didn’t know.

 

He turned his head as well as he could, catching the god’s lips with his own. There was a desperation to how they lingered that Kazuha couldn’t deny.

 

“I — I want you…”

 

The words burned on his tongue. Kazuha wasn’t sure if he spoke the truth or if he was lying. He didn’t know anything anymore.

 

That was enough for Kunikuzushi, who tore Kazuha’s pants off, ripping seams in the process. Kazuha had barely caught his breath before one of Kunikuzushi’s fingers was knuckle deep inside him. He could still feel the god’s clothed cock between his cheeks, the dry humping continuing now with the lord’s finger to tease for what was to come.

 

Kazuha pushed his hips back to urge him on. They had no oils to ease the friction, and Kazuha suspected the slick feeling against his skin was Kunikuzushi’s spit. It wasn’t as effective, but it helped. The god fucked him often enough for Kazuha’s body to be used to the stretch by now, but the pain reminded itself as Kunikuzushi pushed another finger inside him.

 

“ngh… ah!” Pain and pleasure held him on a knives edge. The burning feeling of the intrusion forgotten as Kunikuzushi curled his fingers in a rolling emotion, caressing every part of his velvet walls. He wanted the process to move on. He wanted to feel Kunikuzushi inside him. He wanted his hard cock to stop teasing his lower back and instead bury itself deep inside him. He wanted him to hurt him.

 

Kazuha didn’t like pain, and he wasn’t asking for the god to treat him like he once did. No, Kazuha needed him to fuck him so good he’d regret this for the rest of his life. He was going to enjoy the feeling of this cruel divinity inside him. Live with the knowledge that he had come to crave the touch of a creature that saw no worth in human life and killed as easily as Kazuha could blink.

 

“Are you alright, Kaedehara?” A kiss on his neck. His shoulder. The scar on his back.

 

Kazuha closed his eyes hard, tears overflowing. The god wasn’t supposed to ask if he was alright. Kazuha couldn’t allow himself to believe the god actually cared. Kunikuzushi couldn’t care. His chest was empty.

 

“Just… fuck me,” he breathed, his lust evident. The god’s fingers remained lodged inside him, continued to caress and tease.

 

Kunikuzushi reached further, his knuckles hard against his skin. Bruising. He felt so good, but Kazuha didn’t want to get lost in it. Noticing he fought back, Kunikuzushi slid his fingers in and out of him again, this time faster. Harder.

 

It was painfully good. Kazuha shook his head, trying to deny the fact that if Kunikuzushi continued to tease him like this, Kazuha would surely cum.

 

He’d done it before.

 

Before Kazuha thought he’d start losing all control of his body once more, toes curling, Kunikuzushi stopped. Kazuha sighed in agony. His body was on fire and Kunikuzushi denied him the pleasure to burn out.  

 

Where usually Kunikuzushi would give him little time to prepare before moving further, the god was taking his time. Kazuha squirmed in his grip, hoping it would urge him on. Kazuha was trying to hide his shame in pleasure, but that also entailed that he wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

 

He wanted to forget today. He wanted his body to stop shaking. He wanted to feel as close to okay as he could.

 

Kunikuzushi took Kazuha by the knee, raising his leg towards his chest before pushing inside him finally. He took it slow, allowing Kazuha to adjust. It wasn’t foreign for the god to give him more time to catch his breath before ravaging him, but this was different. Kunikuzushi was careful with him like killing that woman and her child had reminded him of just how fragile Kazuha’s mortal body was.

 

It was awful. Kazuha didn’t deserve this gentle treatment and nor did he want it. He was drowning in guilt. Tears still forced their way down his face in what seemed to be an endless stream.

 

Worst of all was that this was what Kazuha wanted. A part of him wanted Kunikuzushi to hold him gently, ask if he was okay and then fuck him hard and slow. The part of him that couldn’t be trusted. The part that wanted them to be someone else somewhere else. So when Kunikuzushi finally moved, deep and slow, Kazuha’s body trembled in pleasure. He didn’t want this, he tried convincing himself at the same time as his body denied him the ability to break away. Instead, he hid his face in Kunikuzushi’s arm, trying to hide his pleasure filled sobs.

 

He felt so good. So painfully good, but the tears kept coming. His heart kept sinking, no matter how hard it beat. Nothing about this was fine.

 

Kazuha bit back a plea for them to stop. Kunikuzushi wouldn’t care. Kazuha wasn’t sure if fucking him now was his only way to comfort Kazuha after what had just transpired. The god knew Kazuha had been scared, and what had once been cause for punishment was now comforted in the only way the god understood. Perhaps this too was a punishment in its own right.

 

So Kazuha suffered through it. The pain in his chest. And the pleasure. He savoured it all. When Kazuha finally came, his gaze was clouded in red. He could almost smell the blood.

 

They remained pressed together. Kazuha needed to catch his breath. The crying had subsided. But only just barely.

 

He felt awful.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Something had changed. Not just in Kazuha. Kunikuzushi was not himself. Whatever had happened in the throne room was only the beginning. He was distant. He didn’t wish for Kazuha’s company.

 

At first, he thought he’d repelled the god with how poorly he’d received his kindness last they had sex. But that wasn’t it. There was something else, and while Kazuha couldn’t tell what, he feared for his life.

 

Even when the god marked him for life and broke all his fingers, Kazuha could see himself one day leaving. For a while, he even accepted the situation he was in and could almost find himself staying. If only a while. But not forever. He would not die a prisoner.

 

Then came the rain.

 

Kazuha could feel it on the wind that something was wrong, but not even that could wake him from his daze. Then the fish died. Kunikuzushi’s hands around his neck. The carnage he’d witnessed in the throne room.

 

Who was Kunikuzushi?

 

Kazuha thought he’d know after the first night together. The first week of his imprisonment, he’d only confirmed he was right. The god was nothing but a creature who’d crawled out of hell.

 

Then the layers fell apart. Suddenly, the god showed another side. A kinder one. One Kazuha didn’t hate but could not love. And when Kunikuzushi came under stress from his mother, Kazuha saw himself in those indigo eyes. It was a disturbing thought.

 

Kazuha had kept away. Avoided his usual spots. His notebook was still hidden in his room because although his fingers had healed nicely over the last months, they weren’t fully healed. And Kazuha had nothing to write about. He didn’t recognise the man he’d become. If he was even a man anymore.

 

There was no Kaedehara clan to talk about. He was a shadow of his name.

 

More spectre than human.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Kazuha looked up. The physician was in his line of sight. He hadn’t been walking anywhere specific, so how was he now on her doorstep?

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t — I mean, I —“ Kazuha took a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

 

“Come in,” she urged, gesturing for Kazuha to take a seat.

 

Kazuha shook his head. “No, really, I should be—“

 

“Sit down.”

 

Her tone left no room to argue. Hesitating for a second, he then took his usual spot on the examination table.

 

The woman sat down in her own chair, making no remark or a try to examine him. She just stared at him. Kazuha didn’t like it. He lowered his gaze to the floor, his hands fidgeting restlessly. He wished he hadn’t walked here.

 

“You look unwell. Is the sex bad?”

 

Kazuha winced. He hated her tone. Like they were friends, and she was asking questions about his marriage. It was nothing like that.

 

“Because you don’t hate him anymore, do you?”

 

“Because I can’t kill him! Okay? I don’t care if he’s only half a god, I’m only human.” Kazuha had raised his gaze at his little outburst, but just as fast as his words died out, so did Kazuha’s head hang again.

 

“I can’t do a thing. I’m not even brave enough to try to deny him anymore.”

 

“But it’s different now, isn’t it? This rain isn’t normal. This thunder never stops.”

 

“I don’t want him near me.” That was the most honest Kazuha had been in days. Weeks. It was easy to “fall” for the god, to try and convince himself that this cage could be his home.

 

But it was a cage. The one stroking his hair and holding him at night was just a disguise. Behind it was a devil. A viscous creature in hiding.

 

“More than ever, I want my freedom. I want to be free of him.” Kazuha studied his hands. They were trembling.

 

“I wanted to think maybe I could escape without killing him, but I can’t do that to myself. Not to anyone. How is the man I was, supposed to forgive the man I’ve become? It’s true I genuinely believe he’s not rotten from his core and out, but he’s vile.”

 

Kazuha pressed the palm of his hand against the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t cry. “But I can’t do it. It’s as you said; he’s immortal. He’s stronger and faster than me. I stand no chance.”

 

The chair groaned as the physician shifted in her seat. “I’ve been thinking about your theory about him having weak points.”

 

Kazuha raised his head, listening intently.

 

“And all I can think of is that his weak point is you.”

 

“Me?”

 

She nodded. “Ever since you’ve looked happier, the less effective his healing has been. I’ve never seen him recover this slowly before. I visited him this morning.”

 

“Something is different. I’ve played my part so well I’ve even fooled myself, but now I feel… unsafe. As if he’s waiting for something. He’s looking more like the man I met at the brothel and less like…”

 

Kazuha wouldn’t finish that thought. Less like what? Someone he could trust? He’d never been able to trust Kunikuzushi. Not really.

 

“You think playing the part won’t save you anymore?”

 

Kazuha shook his head. He knew it wouldn’t.

 

“And I’m afraid that if his weak point is me, then it’s because he’s let me in. Maybe even too close for his comfort.”

 

“You are allowed to touch him. Maybe he’s started to feel vulnerable? With the attack and all?”

 

Kazuha bit his lip. Maybe. Maybe not. Kunikuzushi was anything but weak. But he was proud.

 

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

 

“So what will you do?”

 

Kazuha swallowed hard. There was a lump in his throat. It refused to go away. “I’ll play my part.”

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha continued to hide. Playing the part had become a challenge, Kazuha couldn’t say why. When he passed the threshold to the chambers, his body trembled. When the god spoke his name, Kazuha almost covered. If they spent time together, Kazuha did not speak, he hardly moved.

 

The air around the god was suffocating. It was almost like Kazuha could touch the waves around them. Light. Sound. Intent.

 

And Kunikuzushi burned with rage.

 

He didn’t show it. His face was almost entirely neutral. He would not sneer nor frown. But sometimes his brows would furrow. Those eyes could pierce armour.

 

The physician continued to visit him, now worried about his state. He wasn’t ill, but he was slipping, as she put it. According to her, something was very wrong.

 

One evening, a guard knocked on her door, asking if she’d seen Kaedehara around. The lord was asking for him. Kazuha had hidden as she opened the slide door to explain she hadn’t seen the boy since midday.

 

“It’s your job to keep an eye on him, not me.”

 

Kazuha hadn’t escaped Kunikuzushi like that ever before. He’d always shown up, no matter the pain he’d been forced to endure.

 

When Kunikuzushi asked him about it later, Kazuha said he’d been meditating in the garden. He hadn’t meant to hide from anyone. Kunikuzushi dropped the subject. He looked almost solemn. Kazuha almost felt regret.

 

A few days later, Kazuha could not help it. The god looked unwell. Tired. Lost. He was at the end of his bed, gaze on the floor. His eyes were empty. Although hesitant, Kazuha touched him. It was only a hand in his hair meant to bring comfort. He was still here. No matter how scared it made him. To stay alive, Kazuha would stay close to him.

 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” He asked, touching Kazuha’s face. Kazuha nodded. It didn’t matter if he lied. In a way, Kazuha feared that belonging to Kunikuzushi was true. Kazuha was his.

 

When the god opened his mouth once more, Kazuha caught a glimpse of what troubled him. Kazuha did. Kazuha who made and unmade him was slowly driving the god mad. Kunikuzushi told him words any lover would kill to hear, but then his words turned sour.

 

Survival instincts made Kazuha shy away, but it wasn’t enough. Not fast enough. Not strong enough. A hand around his neck and wrist stopped his attempt to escape, and in the next second, Kazuha found himself on the bed, the god towering above him. Caging him once more.

 

Kazuha had looked at the god without fear once. There had been a time when he fought tooth and nail only to stop Kunikuzushi from touching him. He hadn’t cared that the god might kill him.

 

“I’ve become too soft.”

 

No.

 

“Too lenient on you.”

 

Kazuha shook his head. That wasn’t true. They didn’t need to go back. Kazuha would do better. He could change. He could play his part.

 

The time to fight was over. He struggled, but all Kazuha could really do was plead and beg when the god tied his hands to the bed frame. He could only cry as the god urged him on his stomach and tore his pants off.

 

He screamed as Kunikuzushi forced himself on him. Kazuha was being torn apart. Cleaved in two.

 

And he could do nothing about it.

 

Kazuha lost count of how many times the god came inside him. Cum ran between his legs. It poured out of him as he was fucked hard over and over and over and over. Kazuha’s pleas were left unheard. His cries unsoothed.

 

When Kunikuzushi finally pulled out and Kazuha once more scrambled to protect himself, he didn’t pull Kazuha back. He was free to curl in on himself. He wasn’t safe, but what could he do? His ass hurt. His skin burned. His eyes stung. His throat was raw.

 

His heart was torn out, leaving his chest open and bleeding.

 

When released, Kazuha struggled to get up. Struggled to walk. To make matters worse, the god pulled him back. Then he kissed him.

 

Kazuha got so stunned by the action that he almost fell to his knees. He was hurt and bruised, but Kazuha would still,

 

Play.

 

His.

 

Part.

 

So he kissed the god back.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha spent a long time washing off. He more or less just sat in the water. The rain washed over him. Kazuha hadn’t been sure he’d come to the god’s private bath, but his body wanted warm water.

 

Secondly, what would the god do to him that he hadn’t already done? Kill him?

 

Kazuha would welcome it.

 

Freedom was too far away. Maybe even impossible. And what use was there? Kazuha had done what he thought the god wanted. Had he done it too well? You’re the most precious thing to my heart, he’d said. Then he raped him again. Tied him up like an animal and had his way with him. Was Kazuha being punished for becoming too precious to him? Was Kazuha being punished for playing his part too well?

 

Then what the fuck was he supposed to do? If this was what he could expect every time Kunikuzushi’s mind was against him, what was he to do?

 

And Kunikuzushi was unwell. How could he speak such kindness and conclude that violence was the only answer? Kunikuzushi was a god of chaos and destruction. He was death walking on two feet. A storm incarnated.

 

Kunikuzushi had licked Kazuha’s wound, then he tore them open. Kazuha looked down at his wrists. He’d forgotten the image of the red and bloodied skin. He’d forgotten the sting of washing the open wounds. His hands were shaking. Kazuha was crying again. He’s done a lot of that lately. How much sadness could he carry until he broke down? Was it before or after Kunikuzushi tore him apart?

 

Kazuha didn’t have answers to his questions. Kazuha wasn’t sure anyone did. It didn’t stop him from stumbling into the physician’s office. He hadn’t sustained any damage that demanded urgent care. Yes, he was bleeding and his body beaten black and blue, but it would heal. What Kazuha needed, was a friend.

 

He didn’t want to talk. All there was to say was written on his body and his silence. She treated him, not asking. They’d both known something was wrong. Perhaps they both knew it would end like this.

 

Kazuha didn’t dare linger for too long and made his way back to Kunikuzushi as soon as he was patched up. He hesitated with his hand on the door. Why was he back there? Kunikuzushi hadn’t ordered him to return, but at the same time, he never had. Ever since he told Kazuha to sleep with him, Kazuha had. Tonight, he’d much rather hide in his room, but judging from the tender kiss forced on his lips, Kunikuzushi wanted him back. It was the only confidence he could bear as he stepped inside.

 

The god complained about him being slow before gesturing for Kazuha to join him. Kazuha did so, but he kept his distance. Kunikuzushi didn’t try to pull him close.

 

Sleeping in the bed he’d but an hour ago been tied to and raped in, Kazuha wanted to throw up. What had he been thinking all those nights? That something was different? That this bed wasn’t the trap Kazuha had fallen into during his first night here? He wanted to hit himself, but his strength was failing. Despite it, he could not sleep.

 

The new bedding was itchy on his sore skin. The smell of blood from his wrists still fresh in his nose. He lay awake, head spinning. After hours passed, Kazuha quietly left the god’s chambers. He couldn’t sleep next to him.

 

In his own bed he could breathe. It was a narrow space, but it was his. Knowing he was safe there, Kazuha slept.

 

Kazuha was awakened by the rain. At least he thought so until another knock echoed through the space. Kunikuzushi was asking for him. Rubbing his eye, he stepped out. Still dark. Still quiet. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours.

 

Kunikuzushi ordered him to sleep in his chambers. He’d get his rest as long as it was there. Kazuha was too tired to hide his feelings. He didn’t want to sleep here. He didn’t want to be close to him.

 

So Kazuha took his position on the edge of the bed once more. It didn’t take long for Kunikuzushi to order him closer, so Kazuha put his head in the god’s lap. He was too tired to fight, and with the god’s hand in his hair, Kazuha quickly drifted off again.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kazuha didn’t talk to anyone. It was like his voice had gone along with everything. His will. That fire in his heart.

 

Kazuha simply played his part. Nothing more. Nothing less.

 

Except for when Kunikuzushi would reach for him. Kazuha had shied away then. The first time after he’d taken Kazuha by force, Kazuha had done what he could to protect himself, which wasn’t a lot. Kunikuzushi had forced himself on him again. The next time the god reached for him, Kazuha reacted the same. Cause why wouldn’t he? He could follow every order flawlessly except the one that meant he had to give his body away. That pain was too much. For every part of him.

 

Kunikuzushi didn’t bother with him then. He’d let Kazuha go, angry that Kazuha couldn’t even say something. He objected, but not with his voice, and when Kunikuzushi questioned him, Kazuha’s lips remained sealed.

 

What was there to say? Kunikuzushi felt no regret for what they had become. Even if he came crawling back, begging for Kazuha’s forgiveness, Kazuha wouldn’t know what to say. They couldn’t go back. And back to where?

 

There was no saving this, and when Kunikuzushi wouldn’t even bother to fight Kazuha for his body, how long would it last? Kazuha’s life hung by a thread, and Kazuha’s grip on his end was quickly loosening.

 

Was he even trying to stay alive?

 

“I won’t survive much longer.”

 

The rain poured without end outside the open window, the air humid and heavy. Too thick to satisfy Kazuha’s lungs.

 

The physician had little to say. These were the first words Kazuha had spoken in a week, and although she’d spoken plenty, scolded and soothed without a response, she now remained silent. They both knew it was inevitable. She could not comfort him now. She could tell him to run, but Kazuha was in no shape to run. He’d lost weight again. His eyes had lost their shine.

 

He was little more than a husk.

 

“Would you do it?” Kazuha asked, snivelling. He’d hardly acknowledge that he’d begun crying again. He hadn’t cried since the god raped him last. Now it happened again, like only a few words opened his empty heart and allowed him to feel. If only for a little.

 

Maybe it should be pity, but all Kazuha could feel was sadness. How he’d ended up like this. Why he had. Where were his parents? He missed his mother.

 

Kazuha would die a pathetic death at the hands of a god.

 

The physician tipped her head side to side. It was a difficult question to answer. “If I were you, I’d kill myself.”

 

Kazuha laughed. He couldn’t hold it in. Maybe he should kill himself. There was just a small issue he couldn’t deny when it came to ending his own life.

 

Kazuha couldn’t die without trying. He had to kill Kunikuzushi. Or he could die trying. There was no in between. All or nothing was all Kazuha had.

 

Where was his rage? Was he supposed to go out like this? Kazuha cleared his throat. “I must try to kill him. If I can’t, I’ll either turn my blade upon myself, or he will tear me apart.”

 

There was no solution in which Kunikuzushi would allow him to walk away twice. If Kazuha tried — and failed — to kill the god again, Kazuha would not be forgiven. Kunikuzushi wasn’t a forgiving god.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Kunikuzushi didn’t call for Kazuha. Not his body, or his company. It was enough for Kazuha to reflect. Fill his shell with something. Anything.

 

And there was something. The thread of will was something Kazuha could grasp. He wanted to live. He wanted to taste freedom again. If only for a second, Kazuha wanted freedom. And although he might fail — the seconds before he’d plunge a blade into the chest of a god, Kazuha would be free.

 

Just for a second.

 

That was all he needed.

 

Kazuha waited. The days went by, and then, a guard came for him on Kunikuzushi’s behalf. He was summoned. No matter what happened, this was the end.

 

He stepped into clouded darkness. The god was on the bed, gaze towards the ceiling, hair cascading over purple silk. Like this, he was as gorgeous as he could be. Gorgeous in a way Kazuha would never admit aloud.

 

“Light the candles, will you?”

 

The heavy clouds outside blackened out the skies. If Kazuha didn’t know every inch of the chamber by heart, he might have stumbled on his way to the desk. Lighting a match, Kazuha worked in silence. As the room slowly lit, Kazuha found what he’d sought.

 

The blade.

 

The blade that was stabbed straight through his hand. The blade that had carved into his flesh and left a scar he’d bear forever. Everything began with this knife meant for letters. Now Kazuha would end their story with it.

 

Quietly, gaze on his god, and with the other hand still lighting candles, Kazuha slowly picked up the knife. Without a sound. Without any hint that something was wrong. Even with a knife in his hand, Kazuha’s heart did not blaze. He was armed, his armour complete, but for what use was this weapon in his hand? Slay a god?

 

It was a laughable stab at life.

 

Kazuha hid the knife in his sleeve as he climbed on the bed to lie by the god’s side. Their bodies didn’t fit. The hand in his hair was a comfort Kazuha imagined was someone else’s. The touch was light and calming, like his mother’s. He had a knife. Kunikuzushi was his equal. Kazuha could kill him.

 

He’d be okay.

 

“You’re behaving well.” The god’s voice filled the emptiness beside them. It was a statement, but there was surprise in his words. Like a question.

 

“In the end, I’m just your property. Your loyal street dog,” Kazuha responded. The first words he’d spoken to the god in days. Kazuha wasn’t sure why these were the words that finally escaped him when his pleas and tears ran dry.

 

But this was all there was. All to be. The truth. Whatever had been in Kazuha’s grasp for only a little while had been nothing but a fantasy. Kazuha was awake now. Real. He could see. He could hear.

 

He knew what he had to do.

 

Kazuha’s hand, shaky but determined, slid inside Kunikuzushi’s already half undone robe. His chest was cool beneath his hand. He didn’t dare press down too hard to feel if his chest was empty. The beating beneath his palm was his own heart pumping warm blood out his fingertips. Because Kazuha was alive. At least a few more minutes. Real blood. A real heart.

 

Human.

 

What are you, he wondered, not asking aloud. Kazuha would never know. Perhaps not even the god knew.

 

Kunikuzushi turned his head to look at Kazuha in wonder. Like Kazuha’s careful advance was something he’d never expect to see again. Kazuha supposed it wasn’t. Not unless he was playing his part one more time. And he was. If there had ever been a performance worthy of applause, Kazuha was about to attempt it.

 

When the lord asked him to undress, Kazuha did as he was told. Careful not to reveal the blade beneath his wrist, Kazuha smiled. He could tell it took the god’s breath away. Because after all, Kunikuzushi had always been the one who couldn’t resist the human.

 

Kazuha wouldn’t have been here today if Kunikuzushi could. He craved Kazuha. He wanted to see and feel him, and if he wasn’t allowed to, he was no better than a child with a tantrum.

 

Kazuha’s gentle smile, enchanting a god had allowed him to remove his shirt, blade now hidden in a bundle of fabric just within reach. His pants were laid on top. He was naked with nothing to hide.

 

Kunikuzushi was beautifully starving. The way he looked at Kazuha was one of adoration and not predatory. It was the way Kazuha had hoped the god would always watch him. That hadn’t been the case, Kazuha had learnt as much now, but until then Kazuha had enjoyed that indigo upon his skin. Truth was that no one had ever worshipped Kazuha like Kunikuzushi did. But the violence was a part of him. Death a part of his divinity.

 

Now, as Kunikuzushi pulled Kazuha into a kiss, Kazuha hoped the god could taste it. The bittersweet taste of pain. Their tongues danced, his hands on the god’s bare, pale skin beneath his palm were gentle and kind.

 

This is goodbye, he thought as his hand gripped the knife and his lips trailed down the god’s jaw and onto his neck.

 

Then he bit down. It was only a playful bite, not too hard. It had the god hissing beneath him, but he did not push him off nor tell him to stop. So Kazuha bit down again, harder this time.

 

Because Kunikuzushi had got one thing wrong about Kazuha.

 

He’d never been a dog.

 

Kazuha jabbed the letter opener into the god’s soft neck. The blade went straight through, just like Kazuha had seen blades do through his human looking skin before. Kazuha kissed the skin, coating his lips in red.

 

Strained breathing filled Kazuha’s ear, and he sat up straight, watching the god beneath him as he pulled the blade out of his neck.

 

Before Kunikuzushi could do anything else, Kazuha plunged the knife down into that pale chest. It pushed through easily. Kazuha tore it out and plunged it down again. Then again. And again.

 

Kazuha brought the blade down over and over, that divine skin splitting open slowly, becoming a red, torn mess.

 

Kunikuzushi didn’t stop him. When he tried to speak, blood was all that escaped his lips. Kazuha got it on his face.

 

Kunikuzushi was suffering and he couldn’t make it stop. His chest was caved in, drowning Kazuha’s arm in blood. Still, he held on. The blade tore through divine tissue, not stopping.

 

Kunikuzushi’s furrowed brows slowly evened out as realisation dawned. His body was cold. Colder than what was normal. The hole in his neck making him violently cough blood did not close.

 

Kazuha stopped. The knife stilled.

 

He didn’t want the god to understand his pain. He didn’t want him to cry from the pain. And he didn’t. But he was in pain. The gurgling sounds emanating from his throat told Kazuha as much. His breathing came in strained burst of blood, and the hardly recognisable chest, heaved out of rhythm. Bits of skin and flesh flashed red in the candlelight.

 

Kazuha studied the carnage beneath his naked body. He’d torn the god apart. Broken the shell surrounding a heart that had begun to beat.

 

Why had it done that?

 

Kazuha swallowed hard, watching the god’s breath grow weak.

 

There were things he wished to say. He wanted to tell him it would always be like this. Ever since he first had touched Kazuha, had this fate been his.

 

And Kazuha wanted to tell him he didn’t want this. That once there had been a time when Kazuha didn’t want this. He was tired of blood. Tired of pain. He was so tired.

 

In the end, there was nothing worth saying now. The knife was lodged in the god’s heart. He sat there in silence, even as the god stopped breathing. His chest stopped rising and falling. His skin didn’t heal. There were only those empty indigo eyes locked upon the ceiling.

 

Kazuha slid off the bed, reaching for his clothes.

 

They were drenched in blood. Kazuha still put them on.

It was as cold as being held by the god once more.

 

Before leaving the chamber, Kazuha took the knife and tore out the god’s heart. It wasn’t hard.

 

Then he crushed it in his hand.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

No one stopped Kazuha as he walked out of the room. He was painted in blood from head to toe.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Kazuha was hunched, holding onto his arm and abdomen. He couldn’t count how many times he’d left those doors, bleeding and in pain, when no one had spoken a word. But this time was different.

 

“I’ll be okay…” he breathed, only now noticing he was out of breath. “I’ll visit the physician, and it will be alright…”

 

“You don’t look alright —”

 

“He’s not in a good mood tonight. I wouldn’t bother him.”

 

Lying came easily. One guard’s nervous gaze fell on the doors behind them before nodding.

 

“When do you suspect the servants can… ehm… switch the beddings?”

 

“Don’t he usually tell you when?” Kazuha asked, hugging his arm closer. The guard nodded, getting the hint that Kazuha needed to leave.

 

“Yes of course. We’ll wait for him to notify us.”

 

Kazuha walked on, not commenting on the guard’s words. Kazuha had known the answer to his own question. No one dared disturb the lord and therefore waited for him to order them. Although it helped Kazuha, who was still in his cage, it wasn’t a foolproof plan.

 

Any time now, someone could come for him now when his cage was wide open. But Kazuha wouldn’t let that happen. He dove into his room to get a new set of clothing, no matter how revealing, then he ran to the showers. No one saw him. No one could stop him.

 

Where Kazuha would usually spend a long time, he now washed off quickly. Just enough to get rid of the blood. There was no time to lose. He tied his hair back and got into his new clothes. The dark fabric made it feel like Kazuha was still chained down.

 

But the god was dead. He couldn’t hold Kazuha back anymore.

 

All that time loitering about by himself hadn’t been for nothing. Compared to last time, Kazhua knew the guards’ schedules. There were no surprises. No one standing where they shouldn’t. It almost felt like walking straight out.

 

Eventually he stood face to face with the wall he hadn’t been able to reach last time. Now here it was. Tall but with a surface easy to climb. At least it would have been then. Kazuha looked down at his still-healing hand. It was almost back to shape. But not yet, and if the physician had been waiting for him on the other side, she’d scold him for what he was about to do.

 

Kazuha reached out, touching the cold stone. He was back. This time none could stop him. So with the cover of darkness, Kazuha climbed. No alarms rang. No one called out. It was a slow climb, but eventually Kazuha was over.

 

He was outside.

 

Kazuha ran. Where he did not know. He’d escaped, and for the first time in months, Kazuha laughed.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

As the sun rose, Kazuha sneaked into the first clothing shop available. If he sneaked around in clothes as revealing as his, someone would surely report him as a runaway whore sooner or later.

 

Not to mention, Kazuha couldn’t be fully free until he was out of the bonds the god had placed him in. The coin he’d nicked from Kunikuzushi’s study was enough to buy him a short-sleeved kimono, shorts and shoes. He would have preferred longer pants to cover up his legs, but a pair of red stockings made do. He was too skinny, but he looked more alive than he’d been in months.

 

“Do you wish to keep these?” the assistant asked, to which Kazuha was quick to shake his head.

 

“Burn them.”

 

With that, he moved out. Still feeling exposed, Kazuha bought a straw hat at another shop. Beneath its shade, Kazuha almost felt safe. No one could see his face, and his red streak was covered up. No one could recognise his face, and his lineage was hidden.

 

Had they found Kunikuzushi yet? Kazuha knew he’d be at risk if they had, but a part of him wished they had. Leaving him there was… the right thing to do. But Kazuha’s heart stung at the thought. Kunikuzushi was the only one of his kind. He’d been alone all his life, watching everyone come and go around him. Kazuha couldn’t justify the god’s actions, but he could understand. Kazuha had stayed with him until he died. That was the last kindness for the god left in Kazuha’s heart.

 

Kazuha wished he’d been able to meet the physician again. He never learnt her name. Maybe it was just as well. Maybe with the god gone, she too could gain her freedom. He owed her. If not for keeping him in one piece, but for keeping him upright. She was always there, and Kazuha would forever be indebted to her.

 

Not that the debt to her would ever be paid. Kazuha was on his way to the harbour, and once he was on board, he’d never return.

 

A sudden glimpse of red caught Kazuha’s eye.

 

An antique shop was to his right. The man in the shop called out prices and information about his wares, but it was all just noise. Kazuha’s gaze had landed on a sword. A beautifully crafted piece in red, blade hidden in its scabbard.

 

“Good morning, young man! Anything catching your eye?”

 

“This sword,” Kazuha pointed to the red blade, “where did you get it?”

 

  “You got a good eye! This —” the man plucked the katana from its stand and pulled the blade out —“it is one of the last blades made by the Kaedehara clan. I’m not sure of its creator, but this one is rumoured to have been the sword of the last son of the clan, this one was sold off, as well as every other asset owned by the clan as they succumbed to ruin.”

 

Kazuha tilted his head, eyeing his sword in the stranger’s hands. What are you doing here, he wanted to ask it. Did you follow me?

 

“Ruin?” he asked, tearing his eyes from the red blade.

 

“Oh yes! Not more than a few months back the clan met its end with the death of the current head. It’s rumoured they were in deep debt so badly they sold off their only son!”

 

Kazuha grimaced, trying to ignore the stab of the man’s words in his side. “They’re all dead?”

 

“Well, I don’t know about the son, but it’s safe to assume they are all dead. Assassinated by the men they owed money, I’ve heard. Not even the servants were spared apparently, and now another clan has taken up the estate.”

 

Kazuha’s gaze fell to the ground. He had never planned to go back to his home. They had turned him away and shown they didn’t love him like he did his parents. But this was a hard blow. Kazuha was alone. There would never come a chance for him to meet his parents again if he’d ever wished for it.

 

He was no longer the only son.

 

He was the only one. The last Kaedehara.

 

He should leave this name here. Let it rest with a god that spoke it more beautifully than anyone else. Perhaps. He doubted there would come a time when he could carry it proudly again.

 

“How much do you want for it?”

 

The vendor looked Kazuha up and down, scrutinizingly.

 

“I don’t mean to be blunt, young sir, but it’s a valuable piece. It was owned by the last Kaedehara and could be worth more than a fortune in a few years.

 

Kazuha refrained from laughing. Kazuha wasn’t sold off for a fortune. Not even Kunikuzushi bought him for a sum that could be explained as more than trifling. But Kazuha’s sword, a weapon valued because it was his, was worth a fortune. It was laughable.

 

“Would something owned by lord Kunikuzushi equal its value?”

 

The seller laughed like it was the best joke he’d heard in years. “Something owned by the lord? Oh, you’re a funny one!” The laughing continued, and Kazuha waited it out, only giving the man a polite smile.

 

“Something like that would be priceless because it doesn’t exist in hands like ours.”

 

Hesitantly, Kazuha reached into his sleeve and removed the letter opener he’d kept on him since his escape. “Take a look at this.”

 

With a raised brow, the man accepted the knife, his small eyes studying it hard. As he did, his confident smile faltered. “It’s got his emblem. How did you come by this?” he asked. Kazuha was glad the man was one who could recognise the real deal when in his hands.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kazuha explained, wiping his cheek. The god’s blood had been washed off, but the weight of it remained. 

 

“Is it enough to buy the sword?”

 

“It’s enough to buy the whole shop.”

 

“I’m only interested in the sword,” Kazuha assured, and the man handed it over without further ado. Kazuha stared at it. It was heavier than he remembered. A painful reminder of what had become of him. Nonetheless, it was his.

 

Kazuha quickly fastened the weapon to his hip. He was a new man in a new skin and new clothing. New scars. But with a sword on his person again, it wasn’t frightening him any longer. He had his sword. He could show his fangs once more.

 

”With a treasure like this, why would you exchange it?” The man asked as Kazuha turned to leave.

 

”Because it’s mine,” Kazuha said with a kind smile before walking on. The man called after him, but Kazuha disappeared amongst the bustling morning visitors. The man didn’t call his name, too confused by Kazuha’s words to comprehend their meaning.

 

Kazuha raised his eyes to watch the water spread out in front of him. Just a few more steps and he’d be out of here. Instead, he’d be out there, heading into the unknown.

 

“So, were you really sold off then?”

 

Kazuha’s hand instinctively reached for his sword, head whipping to the side. A woman to his right was quick to raise her hands, making Kazuha hesitant to draw the sword.

 

The first thing he noticed was how tall she was. Her sleeveless red outfit showed off a muscular build. She had raised her hands, but Kazuha did not doubt that she could put up a fight, and with the shape Kazuha was in, anyone could probably do a number on him.

 

His hand remained on the sword hilt.

 

“It’s none of my business, of course, but people talk, you know? You can’t fault me for being curious.” The woman flashed a kind smile and Kazuha relaxed somewhat. He’d be ready for anything, but he’d let go of the idea that she was trying to hurt him.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, ignoring her inquiry. “How did you recognise me?”

 

“Name’s Beidou, but most call me captain.” The woman winked with her one remaining eye. “And I didn’t. I overheard your conversation with the antique dealer.”

 

“And you believe me?”

 

“I don’t think anyone would claim to be the last Kaedehara if they weren’t. It’s bad reputation, kid.”

 

Kazuha snorted. He supposed that much was true.

 

“Look, I just want to get off these islands and never look back.”

 

The woman pushed off from the building she’d leaned back against and walked up to him. She looked down, studying him. Then she cracked a smile.

 

“How do you feel about piracy?”

 

Kazuha released his sword. There had been a time when he probably would have frowned upon piracy. The import of illegal goods was a subject often brought up before their clan’s downfall. He supposed it was a national problem. But did Kazuha care? He’d told the god he’d leave on the first ship that would take him.

 

So Kazuha nodded, and the smile that had been wide and bright filled with a warmth Kazuha hadn’t seen in months. It made his eyes sting, but Kazuha wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t property with no free will. He would fight to reclaim himself, one day at a time.

 

Beidou extended a hand, “Welcome to the crew then, Kaedehara.”

 

“Just Kazuha is fine,” he responded, taking her hand.

 

And not long after, the Alcor left the shores. The borders were closing just like Kunikuzushi had told him they would but that didn’t matter. The Alcor would not return for a long time. Not until opportunity would present itself.

 

On deck, Kazuha stood alone, watching the sea ahead of him. The wind made his hair whip around his face and salt water splashed his bare skin with every gust. The sky was clear. The ship sailed calmly on the light breeze.

 

He couldn’t wait to see stars. To see another land. To wander as he pleased. To learn and meet new people.

 

Kazuha closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

 

He was finally free.

 

─── ⋅ ⋅ ───

 

Notes:

This goes out to a young lad with a dream! The rest of you who wanted Kazuha's pov from Dog got lucky <3

The song that inspired this is called Baby I'm the wolf by Ha Vay, and you should give it a listen!

Writing for you guys, and for this silly little ship, is truly so much fun, so as always, thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. I really enjoy reading your thoughts <3

If you are curious about updates for future fics or what not, you can find me on X as @P1mp1m1 ^^

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of To be Both the Animal and God