The night deepened. The oil in the lamp was nearly spent, the flame shrinking, growing dimmer.
The temperature in the room dropped. The early autumn night breeze crept through the cracks in the door, carrying a chill.
Kikyō still sat on the tatami, her fingers unconsciously tracing the bowstring.
She was thinking.
About what Shinji had said. About the lord. About Hiraikotsu. About challenging human authority as a demon.
Crazy.
Very crazy.
But…
She thought of the villages she'd passed through over the years.
The people harmed by demons.
And the people harmed by other people.
Demons ate people, one by one.
People harmed people, ruining them, destroying their families.
She was a shrine maiden. Her duty was to slay Yokai.
But over the years, she'd come to understand something.
How many of the world's Yokai were born that way?
Starving corpses everywhere, breeding resentment.
Cruel human hearts, allowing Yokai to run rampant.
The root of Yokai was in people.
In those who did evil.
" Kikyō."
Shinji's voice broke through her thoughts.
She looked up.
The grey-clad demon warrior had already risen and was walking toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Outside." Shinji didn't look back. "You rest. I'll keep watch."
"Stop."
Kikyō's voice was soft, but carried an undeniable authority.
Shinji paused.
He turned back, looking at Kikyō with slight surprise.
"What's wrong?"
Kikyō stood.
Her white robes and red hakama swayed gently in the dim light.
She walked toward him.
One step. Two.
Until she stood right in front of Shinji.
Less than a foot apart.
"You just said you dared because I was here." Her voice was so soft it was almost drowned by the wind outside. "Now you're running away?"
Shinji froze.
He looked at her cool face, at those dark, deep eyes.
The light was too dim. He couldn't read her expression.
But he could feel it,
She didn't want him to leave.
He started to speak.
But a hand had already caught his wrist.
Cool. Yet carrying a warmth that was somehow reassuring.
"The tatami is big enough for two," Kikyō said. "I told you."
Shinji let her pull him back. As a demon warrior, his strength far exceeded an ordinary human's, but right now, he didn't resist.
"Sit."
Kikyō released his wrist and sat down first on the tatami.
Shinji glanced at her, said nothing, and sat down beside her.
The tatami really wasn't that big.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder, they were almost touching.
A subtle tension hung in the air.
Silence.
Another long silence.
"Lie down." Kikyō's voice came from beside him.
He turned to look at her.
She had already lain down on her side, her back to him.
The back of her white robes clung to her spine, tracing the slender but strong line of her back.
Her legs, beneath the red hakama, were slightly curled. The fabric stretched taut over her hips, outlining a full, rounded curve.
The obi cinched her slender waist, clearly separating the curves of her upper and lower body.
Shinji's Adam's apple bobbed.
"I'm a demon warrior," he said. "I don't need sleep."
"Then close your eyes and rest." Kikyō's voice was muffled, like she was speaking into a pillow. "You consumed a lot of demonic energy. You need to recover."
Shinji opened his mouth to say something.
But in the end, he didn't.
He slowly lay down.
With his back to Kikyō.
Their backs were almost touching.
Through the thin fabric, he could feel the warmth of her body.
It was warm.
Warm enough that even he, a demon warrior who didn't need to breathe, found it comfortable.
The oil lamp went out completely.
The room fell into darkness.
Only a sliver of moonlight from outside the window silhouetted their two prone figures.
Shinji closed his eyes.
He'd thought he wouldn't sleep.
After all, a demon warrior's body didn't require it.
But maybe it was the exhaustion from tonight, or maybe it was the warmth behind him relaxing him too much.
His consciousness slowly faded.
…
Pale dawn light.
Thin morning rays filtered through the cracks in the old window, spilling onto the tatami.
Shinji woke.
Or rather, his consciousness returned.
But he didn't open his eyes immediately.
Because he sensed something was wrong.
In his arms.
Something was there.
Warm. Soft. Carrying a faint, pleasant scent.
He opened his eyes.
What he saw was darkness.
Hair.
Long, black hair, spread across his chest, a few strands brushing his cheek.
Following the hair downward
A sleeping face.
Relaxed brows. Slightly trembling lashes. Lips parted just a little. Even breathing.
Kikyō.
At some point, she'd turned over. Her whole body was curled against him.
The collar of her white robes had loosened in sleep, revealing the pale line of her neck and the faint shadow of her collarbone beneath.
Her face was pressed against his chest, her breath softly warming the spot over his heart.
Those hands, usually only used to hold a bow, now rested at his waist, like she was holding onto something.
Lower
Her red hakama's obi had come completely undone, the silk fabric bunching messily around her narrow waist, riding up to expose the smooth expanse of her hips and the tops of her thighs.
One of her legs lay across his, her thigh pressed against his side. Through the thin layer of fabric, he could feel its soft but firm warmth.
Her other leg was slightly curled, her knee resting against his lower abdomen.
Shinji's Adam's apple bobbed again.
He forced his gaze upward.
Don't look down.
Can't look down.
But...
[Shikon Jewel · Pure Spirit: Affection +2]
[Current Affection: 49 (Trust)]
[It sends you a message: 'She's sleeping peacefully.']
['More peacefully than ever before.']
Shinji looked at the prompt on his panel.
He let out a breath.
Well.
At least this jewel wasn't reading the chaotic thoughts running through his head.
He didn't move.
He just stayed like that.
Feeling the warm weight in his arms.
Outside, the roosters crowed louder.
The sunlight grew brighter.
Kikyō's eyelashes fluttered.
She was waking up.
Shinji instinctively wanted to let go, to release her.
But in the next second, he felt the hand on his waist suddenly tighten.
Her fingers curled into his clothes, like she was holding onto something she didn't want to let go.
Then, her eyes opened.
Her dark eyes still held a trace of sleepiness. A little dazed. A little confused.
She lifted her head.
Their eyes met.
Their faces were inches apart.
Close enough to see the curve of each other's lashes.
Close enough that their breath mingled.
Silence.
Dead silence.
It lasted for maybe three heartbeats.
Then the tips of Kikyō's ears turned red.
Visibly, the flush spread from her earlobes down her neck.
"…"
"…"
"Morning." Shinji spoke first, breaking the silence.
Kikyō didn't answer.
She just quickly released her grip on his waist, turned over, and sat up.
Fast. Smooth.
With her back to him.
Shinji could see her ears, red as if they might bleed.
"Let's go." Her voice had returned to its usual cool composure, like nothing had happened. "Time to get to work."
Shinji sat up too.
He looked at her straight-backed figure, his expression calm and natural.
"Okay," he said.
"Let's go."