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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 : 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
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Ask me when I was younger if I would've made a deal with the devil and my answer would've been a flat-out yes.
Because to me, the devil wasn't a figure of evil but a figure that could make wishes come true.
And I desperately needed some wishes to come true.
I wished for Mother to go back to the way she was before Father's death. I wished the entirety of Japan didn't see the Ichigo family as murderers, and I wished every night before I went to sleep to wake up in another body.
What I didn't know then is the fine print that comes along with every wish coming true. Three little words, you never really notice until you wish you had known earlier.
Three little words that mean more than you can even imagine
You owe me.
There are no such things as miracles. You'd be a fool not to expect or receive any payment.
Roll the dice and see what you must give up for the chance of temporary respite. endless adoration, your vow to carry out a will, your firstborn, your soul...
It's been three days since my encounter with Trismegistus.
Three days since I've spoken to Ruki or anyone for that matter. For three days I've been trying to differentiate what is real and what is not— And it's been three days since I have felt the venom of the Medusa snake wrought in my body.
I've been cured and cursed.
I should be ecstatic, and for what it's worth, a small part of me is grateful to be rid of the last few weeks of my life— the stone, the last remnant of a journey cursed from the beginning.
However, a larger part of me is fearful of the uncertainties I left our agreement to.
"I will collect your payment later."
Trismegistus spoke it, commanded it, while I lay helpless under a dreary soporific state to which he poured the draught down my throat. I remember it was dark, as most things were there, but a second of realization dawned before I woke up coughing and sputtering in Ruki's room muttering incoherencies and curses.
I have been cured, yes, but in the most odious thaumaturgy I have ever seen.
My father...
Hung like a necklace, paraded next to dead animals— a collection of Trismegistus' prized jewels.
His skin so rotted and dull that I wonder if ever light had been behind those eyes and blood flowing through those veins. I wished I could have been there when there was life ebbing through him, just so I could have another image to burn into my memory instead of that one.
I gather my face in my palms and shake my head. No, that was not him. It was just a trick to see me crack and falter. He is dead and buried... hopefully.
Why won't his tomb close?
And more importantly, why would Trismegistus have him? I know Ruki said it is older than time, and it could also be the surveyor of time, but how could it know that my father's body would look like that? Or have dressed in that exact fashion the day he was murdered?
The more I try to answer those questions myself, the more I get roped into conspiracies and suspicions, leading to even more questions. Is this my payment for the antidote- a maddening torrent of what if's and but why's.
Mother went empty with these questions and didn't even get anything for it.
I've holed myself up in a spare room, linen covering the mirror on the vanity, and a chair held in between the handle of the door. Despite my precautions, I haven't been interrupted in the slightest.
To whom I'm blocking out, I couldn't be sure. I've been living in slips of consciousness and can't remember why I did what I did when I came back here. Was it to block one of the Mukamis from entering? Was it a crude way to stop Trsismegistus from coming back? Was it to simply stop me from leaving?
I fear what that pharmakeia I had consumed would do to me further. Had I traded one toxin for another? Now that I had one of Trismegistus' concoctions flowing through my body, would that give him the right to control my body?
I huffed in my divet in the bed I've been nurturing for my self-given exile. I thought I had learned. I thought I had made all the egregious mistakes for a lifetime before I went into this.
The past year of my life has been lined up like dominoes. As harrowing and tireless, it did bring direction— forward. I was lined up to fall right into Karlheinzs' hands.
Now is there anything left for me to do?
We have the bullet, we have the gun, I have allies, and now I have a fighting chance again— so is now the time?
For the grand Coup d'état, the final exodus, the wicked happily ever after?
But there is a piece missing. A sum that is less than its parts.
How can I, the girl who would have jumped from the train at any given moment to further our plan, not feel prepared now?
Was Krone not ready to marry? Was Cordelia not ready to give up her girlhood? Was Menae not ready to leave the Founders to seek out Karlheinz?
I still feel there are some ghosts to reconcile. I have to be clear with myself and see through the apparent reality of taking up a blade to Karlheinz. I will be in his territory, I will be in his domain- his realm, and I will be with the people he may know to exploit the best.
I know there is no happy ending without sacrifice for us. But if it just takes one slip- one falter, one ember to start the fire that ends his rule then so be it.
I've given some thought as to what it will look like. A few daydreams here and there, a few nightmares teaching me definitely what not to do.
We will go when his powers are the weakest— a new moon. This will weaken him, but unfortunately, also weaken many of the members that will be coming along as well. I suspect he will know we are coming so we will not hide or come quietly. By that time, hopefully, I will have a better grasp on magic and specifically, whatever archaic magic could possibly scratch him.
That would be as far as I've put thought into it, and it could all be changed in an instant. I believe that adapting to whatever is awaiting us would be better than following an intricate plan that could turn brittle and crumble away in a matter of seconds.
But that would be in the future. How far? I'm not sure yet.
Outside, the earth began blooming with life. Every flower petal, every fig on every tree, every deer marking its way through the bushels— brought forth with such color and ferocity that nature could never be called complacent.
It was my favorite time- Spring.
I wanted to leave and see where my frost-ridden footsteps would take me. Over a grove, between crossroads, standing ankle-deep in warm freshwater. Breathe in the crisp morning air and let it breathe back life into me.
I rose quietly like the moon under the harsh rays of the sun and slipped off the linen covering the mirror. Daylight reflected off of its surface and I squinted at the new mirrorball.
I leaned in closer and touched my fingers to my face, the cold pads of my thumbs tracing the violets under my eyes and then circling up to the reds of my eyelids. I could count the veins on my eyelids, rivers of sapphire, amethyst, and emeralds branching, twisting, and colliding.
I dressed in a loose blush-colored tunic, and boots that would withstand any dew collected on the grass and sharp objects of paths unknown. I brushed the knots out of my hair and secured it in a braid. I glanced at the mirror again. Better. Could maybe even pass for a human now.
My steps to the door feel awkward, stumbling like a baby calf. I touch the cedar of the chair before moving it out of place. I wait. No invisible spirit comes bursting through the precipice so I pull the handle and I am off into the labyrinth.
I've spent the least amount of time in the Mukami manor, and all the doors appear the same. It's like when you start in a new school and wonder how you're ever going to familiarize yourself with the twists and turns. But soon you know which parts are the loudest, which parts are not being watched by many, and where you can best hideaway.
Their hallways are still riddles to me, and I follow only a faint trail of light and a citrus aroma to a place more lively.
"Hey!" Kou greets, surprised. "You're alive!"
He's behind a counter of marble, the color of obsidian, while Azusa sits quietly at a stool in front. There is a glass of something tinged with a hue of red in front of him. Not opaque, just barely tinting something that is already sparkling.
Azusa makes no move to reach for it, nor does it seem to have been touched at all. I sit next to him, looking forward, all too aware of him staring directly into me.
"Here..." he gestured, moving the glass over to me. "Have some. You must be... thirsty."
I hold the glass in my hands, cold to the touch, and fizzing at the brim. It smelled of citrus and sweet herbs. It looked safe enough, but you can never be too sure.
"Is there..." I can't help but make the connection between the vampires in the room and the drink being colored with the faintest shade of red. "Blood in this?"
"Well, there can only be blood in it if we had some to mix in." He eyes me, his smile full of mischief. "Oh, come on. Don't look at me like that. You know I'm teasing."
I look away feeling his presence ever more prominently. "Of course." It's been a while since I have spilled my blood for them to drink. I can't even remember the last time. Part of me shudders with the thought that now that I am not doomed anymore to turn to stone, they will take it as an invitation to start drinking from me again.
They aren't like the Sakamakis so they don't need to drink blood. They could survive off of the same organic substances that keep humans alive. But, then again, what a life to live without the finer aspects of it?
Azusa nudges me with his shoulder. "Would you... like to add some of... mine?" The corners of his mouth lift up into a smile before lifting up his bandaged arm to his face. "Justin... Christina... Melissa... There's plenty to go around."
"I— I'm good, thanks."
"Hmm..." he sighs, "maybe later then." He went back to tracing the end of his finger across the gold rim of an empty plate.
Azusa was hard for me to read. It wasn't like Kou who always had some emotion on his face, whether or not it was the emotion he was truly feeling was another question. But Azusa was unreadable. It wasn't that he was suffering from ennui as he found a great deal of joy from pain but whatever he felt was only expressed by a slight fraction. Anger, grief, happiness- you only got a slight taste of it, a brief warning, which made it all the more confusing.
I took in the room, illuminated by the skylight above and windows all around. It wasn't a big room, but there was a small lounge area and plants adding color and greenery to the room. It was airy in here... and fresh. Something I hadn't expected.
Kou stood behind a bottle of what I could presume was sparkling water, grapefruits, raspberries, and green cuts of herbs.
"These are from Yuma's garden." He said sprinkling basil on another nearly finished glass. "Now that it's spring he's hardly going to be in until supper. He said he will make apricot jam from the haul this season." He turned to Azusa. "You like that jam, right?"
Azusa nodded, and my heart began to warm slightly.
"It makes sense he'll be out," I added. "Who wouldn't want to be outside in fair weather like this?"
"Me," Azusa replied. "It's sticky... but I like when the bees sting me and die."
Kou tilted his head back and laughed. Bright as bells and clear as a melody. "That's Azusa for you."
The corners of my lips turned up as I joined him. "So what have you been doing?"
"Oh, you know... just here and there." He glances at the clock. "We usually have tea at this time but since the weather has been getting warmer I've decided on trying an iced drink. Normally, though, I'm not home for this. I've taken a lighter schedule for my idol work this season."
My eyebrows pinched at the thought. I had always thought he loved his idol life. Gave him a chance to be adored. "Why is that?"
"I can't explain the feeling, but I feel like something is coming." Something destitute swirled in his eyes. "Something I have to be ready for."
His sudden change of mood had me concerned. But just as quickly as he was pulled under by his emotions, he climbed back up the precipice. "But it's just a hunch!"
I slowly nodded my head. "Right..."
He quickly pivoted the question back onto me. "What have you been doing, Sayaka-chan?"
I paused and looked up at him.
What have I been doing? Sulking? Forgetting? Remembering?
"Ruminating." The word chose itself before I could think of it.
"On?"
"Things."
He gave me a look. "And do those 'things' have anything to do with Trismegistus?"
I gulp to hear that name again from someone else's lips. Paranoia wraps its cold hand around my bones as I shudder to think it could possibly bring it back.
"You shouldn't say that name."
"Why?" He brings the flat of the knife down to the herbs.
"...It does not suit you."
He sprinkles the crushed greens into the finished cup and meets my eyes. "How interesting."
My curiosity peaks at how he would know that name. "How do you know the name?"
He scoffs, "Half the idol industry is in contract with something like Trismegistus. Perhaps most encountered a lower-level demon, but the best idols were rumored to work with a 'devil'. I thought they were all idiots for doing so. I never contacted anything but something with the name Trismegistus came to me in my dreams and asked if I wanted to work with him—"
I jumped up. "You said no, right?!" Goosebumps cover my skin and panic seizes my mind.
He shoots me a weird look. "Yeah, of course. I said they were idiots, didn't I?"
I relax my shoulders and fall back into the stool. "That's a relief."
"Besides," he winks. "I don't need any devil juice to be the best."
A hand comes to thread through the ends of my hair as Azusa carefully looks over the faded blue ends.
I take my attention off of Kou and onto him as he pinches strands between his fingers and rubs over them many times.
Is he counting my split ends?
His voice comes out drawled, sleepy, remote. "Your hair... it's lighter."
"Yes. I haven't had the time to color it again."
I considered adding neither the physical nor mental energy to the sentence but decided against it.
"It was bright blue when you first came," Kou added. "Matched you well then. Looked a lot like the taffy they used to sell at the stand near the orphanage. Right, Azusa? Salty and sweet."
I sat a little straighter. Orphanage? Leona— Kou's mother mentioned that he would be at an orphanage, but I didn't know Azusa was also there. I'd never given much thought to Azusa's past, but if he had ended up at an orphanage... it wouldn't have been the best.
"And now?" I asked, intrigued. "Am I as dull as my hair now?"
"Not dull..." Azusa said. "Vintage. Like... an old love poem."
Kou let out a hum of agreement. "You suit it."
He twirled another strand before pushing it behind my shoulder. His cold fingers brush against my skin and I notice it all too much.
"Mmh. I should try and make that taffy again." Kou recounted fondly. "We could only buy it initially with the money that we found off of the street. Once I tried to steal some pieces for us, but the seller caught me and lashed my hands until they were bleeding." He wore a cheeky smile, harshly contrasting the events of the story. "Though he never remembered to take the taffy back. Ruki said it was foolish to risk doing that, but he ate his piece anyway."
Ruki was at the orphanage? The thought of Ruki— his elitist somewhat pompous nature made it hard to believe he was once there. And the picture on his desk. Was that not his mother and father?
"My hands were so stiff from the wounds I couldn't even unwrap the taffy. Yuma did for me, and the second it went into my mouth I knew it was all worth it."
"You... were crying," Azusa recalled, looking down. "It was... worth it?"
"It wasn't sad tears, well it wasn't happy tears either. It was just... tears."
So all four of them were at the orphanage. From the sound of this experience, they were still humans. Orphaned humans. Kids. Just trying to survive.
That begs the question of when they met Karlheinz and were turned into vampires. The Mukamis always had a different view of Karlheinz. To the Sakamaki's, he was nothing but a deadbeat dad to most. To the Tsukinamis, he was the reason their founder race dwindled down to only Carla and Shin now. But, to the Mukami's, he must have been their savior.
To have been orphaned itself would have been an egregious battle, but to have to face it somewhere in the 19th century when living conditions for the lower class were already abysmally low must have been terrible.
And then to have a figure that was closer than god and more than willing to show off their power and wealth makes you an offer of eternal life... Well, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same.
While I can surmise that his intentions of taking them under his wing and giving them a new life weren't because of his particularly generous nature, the Mukamis wouldn't see it that way.
I think the greatest barrier between Karlheinz and me is the Mukamis now.
They are still loyal to him so if Karlheinz asks them to stand with him... Will I have to fight them as well?
My chest tightened at the thought.
"Can I ask you something, Kou?"
"You... just did," Azusa remarked.
I took a deep breath in. I've been through worse. It's just a question.
"You know I'm going against Karlheinz, right? Like the getting turned to stone things was a hamartia to get a weapon that could kill him."
A shadow rolls over his face and then fades away. He places down the knife and grips the countertop, knuckles turning white.
"I do know." He says, quietly.
"And you're not going to stop me?"
"Can I stop you?" He asked, earnestly. "If I told you to lay down your weapons, and stay here with us and be happy, would you?"
I slowly shake my head.
"Then I don't think it's possible. Sometimes you have to choose the most painful path to your goal. And along the way, your mindset warps to such a degree that the brief respites of pain, where you don't feel the ebb of something burning, stinging or bleeding you think you're doing it wrong." He looks over at Azusa who is deep in thought.
"All of us here have chosen the painful path. And that path led us together, it has led us to him, and it has led us here." His gaze softens. "with you."
He starts again. "So if you mean to ask if we are here to stop you. Then no, we aren't. If you are asking if we are here to help you, then... It's up to Ruki. Our loyalties lie with each other, but it's also with Karlheinz."
"We... would've... died without him."
I nod, the tips of my ears turning red. I hate Karlheinz. I could write a whole scholarly journal article on how much I hate Karlheinz and get it peer-reviewed by Yui. But it's frustrating to think he did a good thing keeping the four of them together. I guess in his choosing who dies in this world, he also chooses who lives.
The Mukamis deserved to live. My father didn't.
"Ruki?" I sipped on the contents of the cup, savoring the tanginess of grapefruit mixed with fresh basil and mint. "Where is he?"
The room fell into silence as the atmosphere began to thicken.
"He... hasn't left his room."
I pause and set the drink down. I look at Kou. "What do you mean?"
"Whatever you guys faced in there had Ruki shaken up as well. We all heard the sound of glass breaking in his room and rushed over there. You were gone, and he mumbled something before closing his door." He splits through a grapefruit, coral-red juice running down his hands. "And he hasn't come out since."
I think about that night and the brief shock that erupted on his face before I can't remember anymore. The night is coming back in flashes but I can't forget that face.
"Normally, Ruki would be outside. Possibly with Yuma, but never to dig into the Earth and tend to its elements. He liked to go out with a journal and document the new plants he would discover. Possibly take back a sample and study it in solitude. Quite the botanist."
"But... we haven't seen him." Azusa finishes, quite sullenly.
"Have you tried to talk to him?"
"Yes, many times," Kou said. "Yuma was actually about to break down the door, but I convinced him that he just needed some time to think over things. Ruki thinks about things more deeply than the rest of us, always needing to find out the 'why's' and 'hows' of every situation."
"Like... you," Azusa added.
"We thought that if you came around before Ruki, maybe you could try and talk to him. The only people who know what went on that night are you and Ruki."
"Of course."
My heels turn and I leave the room and go back into the hallways that seemed to have gotten darker. Sweat prickles at my forehead as I rush to go back to where I remember he took me. If something burrows underneath Ruki's skin like this, then how thorned would it be?
My feet brought me quickly to where I needed to go, and I knocked on the door. Once, twice, then thrice for good measure.
No one answered.
Is he not here?
I tested the handle, and it only budged a hair.
Someone locked this door. He is here.
"Ruki. I heard about what happened, and I— I was there but I can't remember much of what happened before I met Trismegistus."
I waited to see if he would reply but he didn't. I suppose I didn't ask anything for him to reply. So, I continued.
"Could you tell me what happened? I know the image I painted on my palm must have displeased you—"
In an instant, the door unlocked and I was pulled in until it was promptly shut and locked again.
I didn't have time to feel the effects of vertigo or a startle from the change in position. Worry sluiced over me as I took in his appearance and the state of his room.
Entire shelves of books were toppled over, the workings of a frantic man- a displeased man— a scorned man lashed out over these four walls. His desk was in a state of disarray, and upon closer inspection, on the map, I had seen, where the country Deutschland was laid a black ink circle on one of the towns.
Er ist hier.
Pillows laying at the bottom of walls, carnations limp and dried next to a shattered glass vase, his portrait of his family rip to shreds—
"Ruki..." I let out a breath of a thousand different worries. "What is wrong?"
He ran a hand through his hair. He's turned away from me.
God, what am I doing? Ruki is a no-nonsense person. No beating around the bushes. Just go straight for the throat.
I forced my voice to be louder. "Ruki what was the problem with the picture I drew and Tris-"
His hand clamped over my mouth as I was centimeters away from his face. His grey-blue eyes met my own.
"I'm going to speak and you are going to listen." He commands. "And you will speak only when I ask you to. Understand?"
I nod and he lets go.
"The portrait that you painted on your palm," he starts. "Does it remind you of anyone?"
I shut my eyes and try to remember what it looked like. It was red... the lines were fuzzy... and— and I can't focus on anything beyond the grainy borders. "I can't remember." I sighed in frustration. "I can only remember the color."
"Karlheinz. You drew Karlheinz."
My eyes bulged as the clandestine form came back to life. The long tendrils of hair, pointed teeth, eyes that knew exactly where you were going...
A hand came to cover my mouth. It can't be...
"At first I thought you just equated Karlheinz to the devil and decided to draw him, but deep down I knew that wasn't the case. It was like you were possessed by something to draw that image. It was the same obsession that I saw my father display when he would write in his diary after working with Trismegistus."
"Your father worked with—"
"What did I say about speaking?"
I bit my lip containing my onslaught of questions as he continued.
"I was only a boy when I broke into my father's study to read the diary. It was when I was human. It was dark. Too dark for me to be roaming the halls, but I was careful then. I knew which steps creaked, and what places under the wooden hallways were dented and echoed differently. I knew everything about that house.
I wasn't a particularly curious boy. I could've just spent my days making the servants' lives hell and trying to get an ounce of attention from my parents. And those days my parents were busier than ever. My father was climbing the social ladder, leaving less and less time to spend with his family and Mother..." His jaw clenched. "Was busy with other matters."
He breathed in. "Anyways, as time progressed, my father became more and more out of touch with reality and I would hear him utter the name "Trismegistsus." Over and over in his sleep. I don't know if he was chanting it or cursing it. I wanted to know more about this Trismegistus and why he was causing this rift in my family."
"But when I entered his study, I was—" he pauses and then recollects himself. "The air in that room was thick as lead, it smelled of acid and mildew— and if miasma had to be anywhere in that world it would've been there. Something evil, something beyond evil, was lurking in that room."
The lump in my throat feels even tighter as his memories match my own.
"I spent so much time frozen in my steps, unable to go forward or back until I heard my father lighting a cigarette from the bottom of the stairs. Then, I fled and told myself never to go anywhere near that room again. It was only after I had become a vampire that I had the courage to try and research the name. Only bits and pieces were scattered throughout literature, most sources chalking the name up to an ancient devil, one that not even Lucifer would try and best."
He turns to face me. "I don't think it was a mistake you were led to draw Karlheinz. I need to read that diary. I need to know the connection between my father, Trismegistus, and Karlheinz. My father went insane obsessing over that diary, my mother sought out another family because of that diary— my whole childhood was torn to pieces because of that diary."
I slowly nodded my head. Trismegistus being one of Karlheinz's alter egos was starting to become more plausible by the second. Carla did say that if Karlheinz intended for me to be poisoned then he would intend to cure me of it later on. And that would explain—
I gasped as tears gathered in my eyes. "My father," I whispered. "Trismegistus had my father's corpse."
Ruki took me in before his hand came to rest on the top of my back from what I could presume was a somewhat comforting gesture. "If Trismegistus is Karlheinz then he would have my father's corpse as well." He scoffed, and grit his teeth.
"Oh, Ruki..." I quickly blinked back my tears before wondering what a betrayal this must've been for him. His savior Karlheinz is now becoming the reason that his family fell apart in the first place...
I hesitate before bringing my hands up and holding the bottom of his face. He flinches slightly then softens, treachery still swirling in his eyes. My thumbs stroke over cold skin. "Is the diary still in your childhood home?"
"I would presume so," he replies. "The house was boarded up and abandoned sometime after the war. Unless there have been any rogue thieves, everything should still be there." He shut his eyes and sighed. "I can't imagine why anyone would go in there willingly."
I smile and give him a slight pat before letting go. "Then it's settled. We'll go."
He scrunches his face. "I was going to go alone, but since you've communicated directly with Trismegistus maybe it would be a good idea for you to come along also."
He looks at me again, a split second of worry covering his features. "On second thought, you don't need to go if you don't want to. It's enough that you've faced him once. You should rest."
I wiggled my eyebrows, teasing him. "And miss the opportunity to see all your cute baby portraits?"
"I see I've made a mistake."
He turns to the side, his gaze landing on a photo of him, Kou, Azusa, and Yuma. Yuma has his arm outstretched taking the photo, Kou is throwing a peace sign and smiling, Ruki is statuesque as ever, and Azusa doesn't seem to know what to do with himself as per usual.
"Don't tell anyone else about this," he says, corners of his mouth tilting down. "We should let sleeping dogs lie until we're sure. Even then, I don't know how I'm going to tell them."
He brings up the palms of his hands, inspecting them before flipping them over and inhaling sharply. "I feel deceitful even suspecting Karlheinz being Trismegistus. But... If it is him, I don't think I can ever go back to thinking about him the same way."
"You... won't follow him anymore?"
"I'm—" He thinks for a second before responding. "He gave me and the rest of us a second chance at life. He gave us a purpose to live. None of us could've said that before we met him. But the reason why I was left orphaned on the streets was because of my father and his relationship with Trismegistus, I just know it."
"And now you just feel like a pawn in his game, don't you?"
He looks at me, startled. As he goes to fire back a retaliation, I can see the cogs in his eyes turning, and his face morphing until it becomes something between dutiful and confused. "You shouldn't say that about him."
I can't help my frustration at the situation as this was a lesson I had learned hard and long ago. "I'm sorry you have to learn now that Karlheinz isn't the greatest person, far from it, but you shouldn't feel the need to side with him if he's the one who ruined your family and got you into this situation in the first place."
He places his head in his palms. "You don't understand."
"Are you afraid your brothers won't side with you on this?"
He sighs. "I am not afraid."
"Because they will!" I shout. "And I will too! And practically everyone else on this Earth has been wronged by Karlheinz."
"This is not about that," he hisses and grabs my forearms, pulling me close to his face. His eyes bore down at me before dipping his head into the nook of my neck, fangs brushing against the skin of my neck
I try and steady my breathing knowing that this has to be just a threat. Ruki can't possibly be in the mood to drink blood from me now. Right?
He presses an open-mouthed kiss to my jugular, and I tense. I try to wait this out by concentrating on the door in front of me, but my body hasn't felt this familiar, primal fear in a while.
Do I run? Scream? Let him bite me?
"Have you ever heard of the saying not to bite the hand that feeds you?"
"Yes," I hoarsely let out a reply, my voice wavering in volume. I breathe deeply, reminding myself over and over again that Ruki will not bite me.
Ruki lingers by my neck before trailing up to my ear. "You have no idea what you're getting into, Sayaka."
"Then tell me," I whisper back. "Tell me why I shouldn't."
"It's not that you shouldn't," he revealed, glancing down at my lips before meeting my eyes. "It's just that after his checkmate..." He goes to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"The game still continues on, my dear."