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Of Blood and Old Magic

Vampire-cowboy!Toji & Choso x (fem) witch!reader

Synopsis: When three strangers come knocking at your door in search of a favor, it takes only one look to know exactly what they are. Vampires. Luckily for them, their nature doesn’t frighten you. Unluckily for them, a witch never works for free.

CW: Supernatural themes, violence, sacrificial imagery, witchcraft, spider bites, smut(f), spider venom-induced arousal, vampires drinking blood

Note: This story is adjacent to my Daughter of Faith, Son of the Night fanfic and takes place several years before the events of the main story. Pss to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy!

A hot gust of wind swept across the open land, sending tumbleweeds rolling lazily over the sandy ground. From a distance, Toji could see the dry wooden buildings slowly coming into view through the shimmering heat. Santa Josefina, they called it—a modest state most famously known for its agriculture. Corn, beans, chili peppers, cacao, and tobacco were grown and traded throughout the surrounding land, sustaining most of the people who called the place home. Yet, among a select few, Santa Josefina was known for something far more peculiar. A famous witch lived somewhere around here.

People said many things about her. That she could concoct remedies capable of curing nearly any illness, brew love potions strong enough to make even the coldest heart ache with devotion, ruin a man's life for the right price, and speak with spirits as easily as one might converse with an old friend. But perhaps the most impressive claim Toji had heard was that she could raise the dead with nothing more than a snap of her fingers. Of course, Toji suspected most of those stories had been exaggerated by drunken men with loose tongues and overactive imaginations. He'd lived long enough to know how quickly an unusual woman became something monstrous or divine once enough people began talking about her. Still, this witch was their last hope—the final option he and the others had left.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, Toji and Choso, they had made the grave mistake of robbing the wrong man, and whoever he was, he'd responded by sending a bounty hunter after them.

At first, they'd laughed. What threat could a hunter possibly pose to them? They had assumed the man would be weak and fragile like any other mortal, another fool convinced that a gun and enough courage could make him a match for three vampires. Then Toji had finally crossed paths with him, and for the first time in centuries, he'd felt a weakness unlike anything he'd experienced before.

It had been instantaneous. Every ounce of strength seemed to drain from his body, leaving his limbs heavy and his energy completely depleted. Even his senses had dulled. Had Sukuna not intervened and rescued him, Toji wasn't entirely convinced he would still be alive.

The hunter was crafty, too. Smarter than most and frustratingly evasive. Every time the vampires attempted to retaliate, he managed to escape, leaving little to no trace behind for them to follow. It was irritating enough to be hunted, but having a human repeatedly best three ancient beings made the situation considerably worse.

Whoever this man was, he was not stupid. He knew how to escape vampires. He knew how to protect himself from them and, somehow, how to weaken them at the same time. More importantly, he knew what Toji, Sukuna, and Choso were. They weren't mortal beings, and the hunter understood that. He knew they were night drinkers, and every encounter only made that increasingly obvious.

At first, Sukuna had merely been annoyed by the knowledge that someone was chasing after them. By the first encounter, then the second, and eventually the third, that annoyance had grown into outright fury. Each time, the hunter knew exactly what he needed to do to hurt them while receiving little to no damage in return. Toji and Choso had witnessed Sukuna angry plenty of times over the centuries, but the outburst that followed their third encounter had been unlike anything either of them had seen before. Sure, they had encountered people who knew what they were. They'd been chased before, hunted by those who considered their existence an abomination that needed to be destroyed, but none of them had ever been as good as this particular hunter. Which was why they were currently traveling north.

South America had been a marvel. A land rich in culture and history, with landscapes that seemed to change every few hundred miles they traveled. Toji and the others had already traveled across much of the world during their unnaturally long lives, but if there was one thing Toji would say made this place unique, it was the warmth of its people.

In most other places, strangers were met with locked doors and skeptical stares. People watched unfamiliar travelers from behind windows, whispered among themselves, and kept their distance until they knew whether the newcomers could be trusted. Here, however, people had welcomed them with open arms, treating the three vampires less like strangers and more like distant relatives who had finally returned home.

Toji had been genuinely baffled when they'd first arrived in one particular town, and the first person to greet them had been an old woman. She hadn't asked who they were, where they'd come from, or what business they had there. Instead, she'd simply walked straight to them, wrapped her arms around each of them, and planted kisses on both of their cheeks before insisting they come inside for a plate of food.

Her reasoning had been simple. They looked tired and malnourished. That alone had nearly made Toji laugh. What confused him even more, however, was Sukuna. He'd watched the man sit down and eat the woman's cooking without complaint. Sukuna hadn't threatened her, frightened her, or even attempted to bite her. He simply ate everything she placed before him, thanked the woman for her hospitality, and carried on once they were finished.

In all his two hundred and ninety years alive, Toji had never seen Sukuna walk away from a free meal like that.

The memory lingered in the back of his mind as they finally reached Santa Josefina. Toji's horse neighed softly when he dismounted, shifting beneath the afternoon heat as he gathered the reins and tied them securely to the hitching post.

"Alright." Sukuna finished tying up his own horse before turning to look at Choso and Toji. "You both know what to do. Just keep it low. We'll meet here in two hours."

With that, he turned and began walking away.

Toji sighed. The man owed his entire life to that pink hair bastard. Had it not been for him, Toji would've been left to rot in that ditch all those years ago. He knew that; he'd never forgotten it, but sometimes, he wished Sukuna wasn't quite as dismissive as he was.

Toji would never admit it aloud, but ever since that day, he'd come to see Sukuna as some kind of mentor—someone he could look up to, even if he made doing so increasingly difficult. So whenever Sukuna dismissed him and walked the other way without so much as another glance, it stung a little.

Over time, the feeling had become easier to ignore. The centuries had certainly given him plenty of practice. Yet every so often, some foolish part of him still wished the man wouldn't be so damn cold towards him. That perhaps, after all these years, Sukuna could finally stop looking at Toji as a nuisance trailing behind him and start seeing him as something closer to an equal.

Toji shook his head, pushing the thoughts away before they could sour his mood any further.

"Come, we have work to do."

Choso placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the saloon. If there was one place where they were likely to get answers about where this witch lived, it would be there. Men loved to talk, especially when they were drunk. Alcohol loosened tongues faster than threats ever could, and with the amount of rumors surrounding you, surely there had to be at least one person who knew something about where you lived.

Getting inside establishments like these was always effortless when there were so many people wandering in and out. All it took was a simple conversation: stroke someone's ego a little, tell them exactly what they wanted to hear—even if their intoxicated mind barely registered half the words being said—and subtly steer them towards offering an invitation inside.

The saloon doors swung open, releasing a burst of laughter and music before a man stumbled onto the porch. He caught himself against one of the wooden posts before he could fall, a bottle still clutched loosely in his hand.

Toji glanced at Choso. Choso already knew that look. Rolling his eyes, he followed Toji to the drunken man.

"Hell of a night?" Toji asked.

The stranger squinted at him, struggling for a moment to bring Toji's face into focus before breaking into a crooked grin. His voice came out low and raspy. "You could say that."

"Celebrating something?"

"Won three hands straight."

Toji gave an impressed whistle. "Three?"

The man's shoulders immediately straightened with pride. "Damn right."

"Must be pretty good."

"Best damn card player in this town."

Choso glanced at the saloon doors. "That true?"

The drunk turned to him, looking almost offended that his claim had been questioned. "Ask anybody in there."

Toji chuckled. "Hear that? Best card player in town."

"That's what I said."

"And here we were looking for somewhere worth stopping." Toji nodded at the swinging doors. "Any good in there?"

"Any good?" The man scoffed. "Best saloon for miles. Good whiskey, good cards, pretty women—" he paused long enough to take another swig from the bottle. "And you've got me."

"Can't argue with that." Toji grinned. "Shame we're strangers. Wouldn't want to intrude."

The drunk waved him off immediately. "Intrude? Hell, you're with me now."

Toji raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

"Course!" The man threw an arm to the entrance. "Come on in, boys. I'll show you how cards are played around here."

And that was all they needed. A man dumb enough to grant the request without ever stopping to question why two perfectly capable men required an invitation to enter a building instead of simply walking through the doors themselves.

There were many wonderful things about being a vampire. Immense strength and speed came with the condition, along with enhanced senses and a body remarkably difficult to kill. Aging stopped entirely, leaving them frozen at whatever age they'd been when they were turned. On rarer occasions, a fortunate vampire could even possess peculiar abilities such as hypnotism, though powers like those weren't common. They could only be inherited through the blood of one of the ancient lords, passed down to their spawn or acquired by drinking directly from one of them.

Unfortunately, most of those ancient vampires had become little more than legends. The last credible sighting of one of the old lords had been nearly eighty years ago.

Still, Toji supposed being an ordinary vampire was better than being an ordinary human.

The condition wasn't without its disadvantages, however. There was the constant hunger for blood, for one. Then came their sensitivity to sunlight. It wouldn't immediately kill them or reduce them to ash as some ridiculous stories claimed, but prolonged exposure could leave their skin painfully burned. Redness eventually gave way to blisters, peeling, and cracks along exposed flesh, and unlike ordinary wounds, injuries caused by sunlight healed nearly ten times slower.

That was why the three of them traveled during the day dressed in layers that would have been considered excessive even in cooler weather. Heavy coats, long sleeves, gloves, scarves, and wide-brimmed hats kept as much sunlight from touching their skin as possible. The strange looks they received from concerned civilians wondering why three men were dressed for winter in the blistering sun were considerably easier to tolerate than the agony of a severe burn.

For some peculiar reason, silver produced a similar reaction.

Then there were the fatal disadvantages. A wooden stake driven directly through the heart could kill them, as could decapitation. Not that the average mortal possessed any particular advantage in strength over a vampire that would make accomplishing either feat easy—assuming they even managed to discover that the person standing before them was a creature of the night—but Toji had heard enough stories of humans sacrificing themselves just to take a single vampire with them.

He'd even witnessed it himself. Five years ago while he, Sukuna and Choso had been traveling through Europe, they had attended one of the extravagant masquerade balls held in France. Somewhere during the festivities, another vampire's identity had been exposed. Toji still didn't know exactly how it had happened. One moment the man had been mingling among the masked guests, and the next, panic had erupted through the ballroom.

Someone had gotten close enough with a sword, and ridiculous as that sounded, one clean swing was all it took.

Toji had watched the vampire's head separate from his shoulders and strike the polished floor while his body collapsed moments afterwards.

As feeble as humans could seem compared to them, that night had taught all the vampires the same lesson. Never let your guard down.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Choso whispered, his eyes moving from face to face as they followed the drunken stranger farther into the saloon.

Toji nodded confidently as he walked behind him. "Just follow my lead."

A table covered in green felt stood in one corner of the saloon, surrounded by several wooden chairs and a small crowd of women and other patrons gathered around to watch the games. Somewhere in the background, a man hammered away at the piano, playing a lively melody that nearly disappeared with all the singing, laughter, and drunken banter filling the establishment. Glasses clinked against tables, boots scraped over the wooden floor, and every so often another burst of laughter rose above the rest.

"Hernández!" a slender man wearing a brown hat called when he spotted the man Toji and Choso had met earlier. He stood behind the gambling table with a deck of cards already in his hands. "¿Vienes a jugar otra vez?"

The bigger man sneered as he approached. "Claro." Hernández pulled out three empty chairs, taking one for himself before gesturing for Toji and Choso to occupy the other two. "Luis, estos son mis nuevos compañeros. Vienen a jugar unas partidas con nosotros," he explained with a low laugh.

"Excelente, justo vamos a comenzar." Luis glanced at the other men already waiting around the table.

One was an ordinary-looking fellow dressed in a worn brown vest over a dusty shirt. Another appeared slightly younger, his sleeves rolled carelessly to his elbows. Across from them sat an elderly man who immediately stood apart from the others. He was painfully thin and dressed almost entirely in white, with a long gray mustache drooping past either side of his mouth. His clothing was surprisingly clean compared to that of the other townsfolk, and unlike Hernández, he didn't appear particularly drunk.

Luis finished shuffling the cards and placed the deck on the green felt. "La entrada, señores."

Each gambler placed their bets onto the table. Hernández tossed his down without hesitation, followed by the other men and the old man in white. Choso did the same, watching as the coins joined the growing pile in the center. Toji glanced down at his own before looking towards Hernández.

"That's it?"

Hernández immediately laughed. "Tranquilo, amigo. Ya tendrás oportunidad de perder más."

The corner of Toji's mouth lifted. He tossed his bet onto the felt. "We'll see about that."

Luis gathered the deck again and allowed Hernández to cut it before beginning to deal. He moved around the table clockwise, placing one card facedown before each gambler before circling around again. One card became two, then three, until eventually five rested in front of every player. The men picked up their hands, keeping them carefully concealed from one another.

A barmaid approached carrying a bottle of whiskey and several small glasses. She moved around the table filling each one before Hernández convinced her to leave the bottle behind. Toji lifted his cards and fanned them lazily in one hand while bringing his drink to his lips with the other. His eyes, however, seemed far more interested in studying the men sitting around him than whatever Luis had dealt.

Hernández was terrible at hiding his excitement. The younger man kept chewing the inside of his cheek whenever he looked at his cards. Choso, unsurprisingly, gave absolutely nothing away. Then there was the old man. He held his cards close to his chest, his dark eyes moving slowly between the other players until eventually they landed on Toji.

Toji caught him staring.

The old man smiled.

Luis gestured to the first player. "Adelante."

The man in the brown vest tapped his fingers against the table. "Paso."

The younger man checked as well. Hernández, however, immediately pushed ten pesos forward. "Diez."

Choso looked down at his cards for another moment before matching him.

Toji barely glanced at his hand before reaching for his money. Twenty pesos landed against the green felt. "Twenty."

Hernández's eyebrows rose. "No pierdes tiempo, ¿eh?"

"Didn't come here to watch."

Across the table, the old man quietly counted out his money and slid it forward. "Voy."

The man in the brown vest immediately surrendered his cards. The younger gambler hesitated, looking between his hand and the growing pot before reluctantly matching the wager. Hernández refused to be frightened away from his own table and pushed forward enough money to match Toji as well.

Once the betting settled, Luis collected the discarded cards and began the draw. Hernández threw three cards facedown. "Tres."

Luis replaced them.

The younger gambler exchanged two, Choso exchanged two more, and the old man in white studied his hand for several seconds before sliding a single card towards Luis. "Una."

Luis replaced it before turning to look at Toji. "¿Cuántas?"

Toji looked at his cards. "None."

A few murmurs rose from the people watching behind them. Hernández narrowed his eyes suspiciously while the old man's smile faded slightly. Even Choso turned his head to Toji, studying him for a second longer than necessary. Toji simply took another drink.

The second round of betting began. Hernández threw another twenty forward. Choso matched him, but the younger gambler finally decided he'd had enough and folded. The old man raised the wager to fifty. Toji immediately matched it.

Choso studied the old man, then Toji, before laying his cards facedown.

Toji glanced sideways at him. "Giving up already?"

"I'm drinking."

"That's not what I asked."

Choso ignored him and reached for his whiskey.

Hernández stubbornly stayed in, but whatever confidence he'd possessed disappeared once the cards were revealed. He had two pair. The old man had three of a kind. Toji had a straight.

The crowd erupted around the table as Hernández slapped his palm against the table. "¡Hijo de la gran—!"

"Hey, hey." Luis cut him off with a laugh, clearly entertained by Hernández's loss. "Cálmese."

Toji laughed as Luis pushed the winnings towards him. "Thought you said you were the best player in town."

"I said one of the best."

"No, you didn't."

Another hand began, then another. Before long, the game settled into a steady rhythm. Luis gathered the cards, shuffled them, allowed the deck to be cut, dealt another five to each player, and collected the discards when they came. Coins and gambling chips moved back and forth across the table while the bottle of whiskey slowly emptied between them.

Time slipped away with it.

Hernández lost nearly everything he'd brought. The younger gambler returned for another hand only to lose again and finally abandon his chair entirely. The man in the brown vest attempted to win back some of what he'd lost earlier and instead left several pesos poorer. Choso won twice, lost another hand, and decided that watching Toji gamble recklessly was more entertaining than continuing himself.

He pushed his chair away from the table and stood.

"You leaving?" Toji asked.

"I'm drinking."

"You've been drinking."

"Then I'm drinking somewhere quieter."

Toji snorted as Choso took his glass and moved away from the table.

Shortly after, Hernández surrendered too, complaining loudly about his losses while continuing to drink besides Luis. The other gamblers gradually disappeared until only two men remained willing to keep putting their money on the table.

Toji and the old man dressed in white.

By then, the atmosphere surrounding the table had changed. What had begun as casual entertainment had attracted a considerably larger crowd. The laughter around them had quieted, and several patrons leaned closer whenever either man reached for their money.

The old man had been careful all evening. He never wagered more than necessary, never drank enough to cloud his judgment, and never allowed Toji's attempts at provoking him to influence his decisions. Whenever Toji raised recklessly, the man either followed when he believed he could win or folded without a trace of embarrassment. Toji had begun to like him.

Luis gathered the cards again and shuffled them. "¿Otra?"

The old man nodded.

Toji leaned back in his chair. "Deal."

They placed their antes down. Toji lifted his hand, and the old man did the same. Neither reacted. Luis gestured at the old man. "Adelante."

"Treinta."

Toji matched it. "Thirty."

Once the first round ended, Luis motioned for the draw. The old man exchanged two cards. Toji exchanged one. Luis placed their replacements before them and moved the discarded cards aside.

The old man picked up his two new cards. For the first time all evening, something changed in his otherwise stoic expression. It was small, barely noticeable beneath that long mustache, but Toji caught it.

A slow smile pulled at Toji's mouth.

The man's eyes immediately lifted. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're smiling."

"I do that."

The old man grunted and looked back at his cards. After another moment, he pushed fifty into the middle. "Cincuenta."

Toji looked at the wager, then at the pile of money he'd accumulated throughout the evening. Instead of counting out fifty, he began gathering all of it.

The old man watched; so did Luis. From several feet away, Choso lowered his glass.

Toji pushed the entire pile. Coins and chips scattered across the felt, some rolling before eventually falling flat against the table. The murmuring around them quieted almost immediately.

The old man's eyebrows rose.

"Everything," Toji said.

Hernández nearly choked on his drink. "¿Todo?"

Toji ignored him.

The old man's gaze dropped to the small fortune now sitting between them before slowly returning to Toji. "Eso no es una apuesta. Es una estupidez."

"Maybe." Toji rested his forearms against the edge of the table. "Let's make it interesting."

The old man narrowed his eyes.

"If you win, you take everything I've got sitting there."

A murmur passed through the crowd.

The old man looked at the money again. "And if you win?"

Toji smiled. "I want information."

Something shifted in the man's expression. His fingers stopped moving against the edges of his cards before continuing as though nothing had happened.

"What kind of information?"

"Someone we're looking for."

The old man stared at him.

Toji nodded towards the fortune between them. "You win, you walk out of here with everything I've made tonight. I win, you tell me what you know."

"And if I know nothing?"

"Then you've got nothing to worry about."

Behind them, Choso quietly set his glass down. The piano continued its lively melody from the other side of the saloon. People laughed and shouted around other tables; glasses continued clinking against the bar, yet the small crowd gathered around the gambling table had gone strangely silent.

The old man looked at his cards, then at the money. His tongue passed slowly across one of his teeth. "Trato hecho."

Toji grinned. "Good."

The old man pushed enough money to accept the wager.

Luis looked between them. "Entonces, señores."

The old man went first. He placed his cards one by one. There were three kings.

The spectators erupted. Someone behind him whistled while Hernández barked out a laugh and slapped the old man across the shoulder. For the first time all evening, the man's stern expression broke into genuine satisfaction.

"¡Tres reyes!" Hernández yelled.

The old man reached for the pot, but Toji caught his wrist.

"Not so fast."

The smile disappeared.

Slowly, Toji began placing his own cards onto the table. One, then another, followed by another until all five rested on the table. It was a flush.

For half a second, nobody spoke, then the crowd erupted all over again. The old man stared down at the cards. Toji didn't reach for the money. He didn't even glance at it. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his arms against the table as his eyes settled on the man across from him.

"Now."

The old man slowly looked up.

Toji's smile returned. "About that information."

The old man bit his lip before finally asking, "What is it you want to know?"

Toji raised the small glass that still held the last bit of his whiskey and finished it in one swallow before looking directly into the older man's eyes. "We're trying to locate someone."

"¿Un hombre?"

Toji shook his head.

"¿Una mujer?"

He nodded.

Around them, the saloon continued living as though nothing had happened. With the sun beginning to set outside, even more patrons started arriving after a long day's work. Additional musicians joined the man at the piano, filling out the lively tune with their instruments. A woman stood near them and began to sing, her soothing voice carrying across the establishment as couples gathered in the center of the floor to dance. Luis cleared the gambling table in preparation for another round while Hernández had somehow already made his way back to the bar.

The old man looked around at how crowded the establishment had become before glancing between Toji and Choso.

"Aquí no, mejor vamos afuera."

He pushed himself away from the table and began making his way to the front doors, with the two other men following close behind.

Outside, the street was considerably less crowded, though far from deserted. To the right of the saloon, two drunken fools sat slumped against the building, barely managing to bring their bottles to their mouths without spilling beer down themselves. Along the street, shopkeepers had begun closing their businesses for the day. A few more patrons slipped through the saloon doors behind them while others headed home before darkness fully settled. Across the street, a butcher pulled the shutters closed over his shop while farther down the road, a mother hurried her child along, telling him they needed to get home before the sun disappeared completely.

The man in white reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He struck a match, shielding the tiny flame from the evening breeze before bringing it to the end.

"¿Quieren?" he offered.

Toji refused.

The old man took a long drag before exhaling, smoke curling lazily around his face before thinning into the evening air.

"So," he began, "who's this person you're looking for?"

Toji briefly glanced at the people still making their way down the street. "You know of the woman with the black goat?"

The old man slowly lowered the cigarette from his lips. His eyes widened. He had expected Toji to ask about nearly anyone else. One of the women working inside the establishment, perhaps. A shopkeeper. A farmer's daughter. A seamstress. Hell, even one of the cantina girls. But never had he imagined the stranger would ask about that woman.

"La bruja?" he asked, almost as though he hoped he'd misheard him.

Toji simply nodded, as casually as if he'd asked where he could find a glass of water.

The old man clicked his tongue before bringing the cigarette back to his mouth. "What's your business with that woman, anyways?"

Toji clicked his tongue in return. "That's for me to know."

The man drew another breath from his cigarette before finally answering the question Toji had asked earlier. "I know of her. Why do you ask?"

"We need to find her."

The old man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took another drag, seemingly waiting for Toji to reveal his intentions without having to be asked.

Choso grunted at the man's prolonged silence before finally satisfying his curiosity. "We need her help. There's something she can do for us."

The old man finished his cigarette first, tossing the burning stub onto the ground before crushing it beneath the heel of his boot.

"Her services come at a high price," he finally said, "and I ain't just talking about money. People go to her when they're desperate. They ask for health, fortune, love... things that shouldn't be asked for lightly. She tells them the price, they agree, and once they get what they wanted, some reckon they can get clever and skip out on their end of the bargain."

He paused, running a thumb along the end of his long mustache.

"At first, everything seems to have worked out just fine. The sick get better. Money comes. A lover returns." his expression darkened slightly. "But a debt's still a debt, even when you decide to forget you owe it. And sooner or later, life comes to collect."

Choso stared at him. "We can pay her prices."

The old man hesitated. His eyes wandered elsewhere, avoiding those of the two men standing next to him. He bit the inside of his cheek as though debating whether giving them the information was worth whatever trouble might follow. He surrendered with a quiet sigh.

"At the far north of Santa Josefina, there's a ranch with a small settlement. They call it Serpent's Point." he pointed vaguely to the road leading out. "Keep going until the houses start thinning out. Hers is the last one."

Toji raised a brow. "How'll we know it?"

The old man gave a dry laugh. "You'll know."

He pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards the saloon steps, but before he could disappear inside, he turned back. "Would that be all?"

Toji nodded, and he tossed him the sack of coins he'd won during the game. The old man caught it instinctively, staring down at the unexpected weight in his hands with bewilderment before looking back at Toji.

"For your troubles."

The man weighed the sack once in his palm before tipping the brim of his hat. "Good luck with her."

From farther down the street, Toji and Choso spotted Sukuna approaching. His face was as serious as ever, his stride quick and purposeful enough that anyone unfamiliar with him might've assumed he was marching straight towards someone with every intention of punching them.

"Ready to go?" Sukuna asked once he reached them, looking first at Choso and then at Toji.

"Yeah."

Choso headed down the steps, Sukuna following after him and Toji bringing up the rear. The trio made their way to where their horses had been tied, each mounting their respective animal before setting off.

"Where are we headed?" Sukuna asked, taking off his poncho and laying it across his lap now that the sun had nearly disappeared beneath the horizon.

"Just follow me." Toji urged his horse forward until he was riding ahead of the other two. "I know the way."

The vampires spent the entire night traveling north to Serpent's Point. Just how far the settlement sat from that other town in Santa Josefina, none of them knew, but distance mattered considerably less when sleep was something their bodies rarely demanded. One of the few advantages of vampirism was being able to travel for days without stopping to rest. At most, they could go nearly two full weeks without sleep before exhaustion finally began settling into their bones.

By the time the darkness of night softened into the pale beginnings of morning, the landscape around them had changed considerably.

The land was much drier here than what they'd traveled through before. Yellow pasture that had once stretched endlessly alongside the road thinned until only scattered patches remained among the sandy earth. Every thirty feet or so, a stubborn shrub emerged from the otherwise barren ground. The few trees they passed were equally starved of color, their twisted branches dry and almost entirely stripped of leaves.

Serpent's Point eventually appeared through the early morning haze.

The ranch dominated the settlement, a sprawling wooden structure surrounded by corrals and stretches of fenced land. Beyond it sat only a handful of smaller homes scattered loosely across the dry earth, their walls made from sunbaked adobe and their roofs covered with clay tiles or bundles of dried grass. There couldn't have been more than a dozen or so people living there altogether. There were no proper streets, only worn paths created by years of boots, hooves, and wagon wheels passing over the same ground. At the center of the settlement stood a small stone fountain, water spilling steadily from its mouth despite the dryness surrounding it.

A mangy stray dog came bounding at them as they passed, barking excitedly at Choso's horse while its tail wagged hard enough to move its entire body. It followed them for several feet before apparently finding something more interesting and disappearing between two houses.

Chickens proved considerably less considerate. They wandered freely across the paths, pecking stubbornly at whatever they found in the dirt and refusing to move even when three enormous horses approached. Sukuna grunted every time he had to pull on the reins of his shire to keep the massive animal from trampling one of the birds beneath its hooves.

Toji looked around as they rode farther through the settlement, remembering the old man's instructions.

"Keep going until the houses start thinning out. Hers is the last one."

At the far edge of Serpent's Point stood another small adobe house. At first glance, it resembled the others—sunbaked earthen walls, a low roof covered in reddish clay tiles, and a simple wooden awning extending over the entrance; then Toji noticed the plants. Clay pots crowded the walls, overflowing with flowers in colors almost startling against the dry landscape. Herbs hung upside down in carefully tied bundles, their leaves shifting gently whenever a breeze passed through. Flowering vines had begun crawling along one side of the house and onto the roof, twisting themselves between the old tiles. Rosemary, rue, sage, aloe, and several medicinal plants grew wherever space allowed, alongside little clusters of chilies and a few young fruit trees planted near the house.

After miles of yellow grass, dry trees, and sandy earth, the abundance of green almost looked unnatural.

Besides the house stood a roughly built wooden pen shaded by a small covering of hay. Inside it was a black goat.

Toji pulled his horse to a stop. "Found her."

The other two halted. The three vampires dismounted, their boots disturbing small clouds of dust when they touched the ground.

The goat had been stretched comfortably across a bed of hay, lazily chewing on a mouthful of something when the sound of approaching horses caught its attention. Its head snapped upright. It stared at Choso, Toji, and lastly Sukuna.

The animal froze. For several seconds, he did nothing; then the goat screamed. The noise that tore from its throat was so startlingly human that anyone who hadn't been there to witness it might've assumed a grown man was being murdered behind the fence rather than a goat throwing a fit.

Toji looked at Sukuna. "Now look what you did. Your ugliness scared him."

"Shut up."

Sukuna's red eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but Toji had spent more than two centuries at his side. He knew the difference between Sukuna genuinely considering murder and Sukuna merely wanting him to stop talking; this was the latter, so naturally, Toji laughed.

A woman's voice suddenly came from inside the house. "¡Samuel, cállate ya!"

Samuel stopped screaming. The goat slowly turned his head at the house, looking almost personally offended by the reprimand. After several seconds of staring at the closed door, he circled his bed of hay once before settling back down and resuming his meal as though nothing had happened.

The front door opened moments later. A woman emerged wearing a long, deep-violet dress, one hand still resting against the wooden door. Her hair was disheveled from sleep, several strands falling messily around her face, and the exhaustion in her expression made it painfully obvious that three strangers and a screaming goat had dragged her out of bed far earlier than she would've preferred.

Your irritation faded slightly when you saw exactly who was standing outside. Three unfamiliar men. They looked terribly out of place in the rising morning sun. Not because of their horses, the guns strapped to their bodies, or even their unfamiliar faces. Travelers passed through these lands often enough that none of those things were particularly remarkable. It was the way they were dressed.

The heat had already driven most of the ranch hands down to loose shirts with their sleeves rolled to their elbows, yet these three had left scarcely an inch of themselves exposed.

The largest had a wide-brimmed hat that concealed most of his unusual pink hair. A heavy, dark poncho draped across his broad shoulders, falling well past his waist with pale geometric patterns woven throughout the thick fabric. Beneath it, you caught glimpses of dark trousers falling over worn boots and gloves covering both hands. The poncho concealed most of his body, though judging by the width of his shoulders, there was considerably more man hidden underneath than the fabric suggested.

The second was dressed somewhat lighter. A brown hat shaded his face and the peculiar scar running across the bridge of his nose, while brown hair brushed the collar of a loose cream shirt hidden by a patterned vest. Two leather belts rested around his waist, one supporting the revolver holstered against his hip. Brown trousers fell over equally worn boots. Compared to his companions, there was almost something ordinary about him. Almost. Despite the oppressive heat, his sleeves remained pulled all the way down to his wrists.

Then there was the third. He looked as though he'd dressed expecting trouble and would be disappointed if he didn't find any.

A long, dust-stained coat hung from his shoulders, its hem brushing against his boots. A dark scarf had been wrapped high around his neck, while the brim of his black hat left little more than his face exposed to the sunlight. Even from where you stood, you could make out the faint scar cutting across the corner of his lips. Ammunition crossed his chest in a leather bandolier, another belt sat low around his hips with a revolver resting comfortably against his side, and a rifle was slung across his back as casually as another man might carry a bedroll.

Three men. Three layers of clothing better suited for winter than the blistering heat outside.

Your gaze lingered at the gloves, the high collars, the scarves, the shadows deliberately cast over their faces by the wide brims of their hats. That was when you noticed the second man's wrist. His sleeve had shifted slightly while he'd climbed down from his horse, revealing a thin strip of exposed skin. Red. Not flushed from the heat, it was burned.

Your eyes returned to their faces.

Well… That explained quite a bit.

Samuel had apparently reached the same conclusion long before you had. The black goat had stopped chewing again and now stood perfectly still behind his fence, staring at the strangers through those peculiar horizontal pupils.

"Aren't you three something," you muttered.

They didn't respond.

You sighed. Men like these rarely traveled this far to exchange pleasantries, and you already had a fairly good idea why three strangers had gone through the trouble of finding your home.

"Well, out with it. What is it?"

The three men stared at you. Apparently, none of them had expected the witch they'd spent all night searching for to greet them with quite so little concern.

"Good morning to you too," the one with pink hair finally said, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and irritation.

The brown-haired man cleared his throat. "My name is Choso." he gestured to the armed man besides him. "This is Toji." then to the larger one. "And this is Ryomen."

You leaned against the doorframe. "Mhm. That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Straight to the point," Toji smirked. "Think I like her."

Choso ignored him, keeping his attention on you. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure why he had somehow become responsible for doing the talking. Toji was the one who'd heard about you. Toji was the one who'd suggested they find you. By all reasonable logic, he should've been the one having this conversation. Instead, Choso stood beneath the steadily warming sun, trying to explain why three strangers had appeared outside a witch's house at dawn.

A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. "We've heard you dabble in magic and such sorts. We were wondering if you're able to help us with some sort of... predicament we have."

"Predicament?" You raised an eyebrow.

"A problem."

"I know what predicament means."

Choso looked away in embarrassment and cleared his throat. "Right." he shifted uncomfortably, seemingly debating how exactly to phrase whatever came next. "You see, we have this hunter chasing after us."

"Bounty hunter?" You inspected your nails, already becoming considerably less interested in the conversation.

"Sort of..." his voice dropped towards the end. His eyes suddenly found everything surrounding you fascinating: your flowerpots, the ground, his boots, the hem of Ryomen's poncho, Samuel; anything except your face.

"You see... we're not exactly your average person." Another bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

You yawned and fanned a hand in front of your face. The morning was already becoming too warm for your liking, despite the simplicity of your dress.

"Spare me the details. I already know what you are."

Choso finally looked at you.

"You're night drinkers." You tilted your head. "Vampires."

Choso stood there awkwardly, seemingly forgetting how to move altogether. Toji's jaw dropped before a laugh burst out of him. Ryomen didn't laugh; he crossed his arms in his poncho and stared at you with narrowed red eyes, apparently trying to decide whether you were merely observant or an actual threat.

"How did you—"

"Please." You turned your back on them. "I could smell the trail of misery and death on you the moment you set foot here." You glanced over your shoulder, a small smirk forming at the corner of your mouth. "Besides, you think Samuel is stupid enough to scream at whoever knocks on my door?"

As though understanding he'd just been complimented, Samuel lifted his head proudly. Using one horn, he somehow nudged open the gate to his pen. The goat trotted towards the house, squeezed between the vampires without the slightest concern for his own safety, and stepped through the doorway.

"We'll talk inside. It's cooler." You followed Samuel before glancing back at the three men. "Come in. You're welcome inside. Enter. Whatever it is I need to say for the permission thing."

The three vampires exchanged looks and followed inside.

Your home was fairly small, but it provided everything a person needed. A modest kitchen occupied one side, its shelves crowded with jars, dried ingredients, and several additional herbs you kept growing indoors. A dining table stood near the center of the room. Two cushions occupied one corner near a window, while a doorway led to your bedroom. Another, smaller room had been dedicated entirely to your work.

You pulled three chairs away from the table and gestured for the men to sit. After retrieving three cups, you offered each of them water before taking the seat across from them.

Samuel immediately claimed the cushions.

"So." You scratched lazily at your head. "What is it you need from me?"

Instead of answering, Toji asked a question of his own. "How is it that you're not afraid of us?"

You clasped your hands on top of the table and rested your chin against them.

"Should I be?"

Toji took a moment to answer. "No."

"Then there's your answer."

He scoffed. "I mean, how are you so trusting of us? Normally, people don't feel this comfortable letting men they don’t know into their homes."

You reached for the water jug, filled yourself a cup, and emptied it in one drink. "You're not the first people—or supernatural beings—I've done business with. I've had men, women, other witches, werewolves, hell, even other vampires seek me out hoping to gain a favor."

Then you reached beneath the folds of your dress. When your hand emerged, a sharpened wooden stake rested comfortably between your fingers.

"And I'm not dumb enough to fully trust you either."

From his comfortable place on the cushions, Samuel fixed the three vampires with what could only be interpreted as a warning glare.

A gentle morning breeze slipped through the open window, lifting the curtains into soft waves before allowing them to settle again.

From your right came a scoff.

"Tch." Ryomen leaned back in his chair. "This is probably just a waste of time. She's most likely a phony."

Toji immediately drove an elbow into his side.

Samuel huffed heavily through his nose.

You let the insult pass, still holding the cup as you poured more water. "You don't believe in what I do?"

"I think it's beneath someone like me."

"I see."

You nodded once before extending your hand across the table towards him. "May I?"

Ryomen looked at your open palm. He didn't answer, but he didn't pull his hand away either. You took that as permission.

You turned his hand over. His palm was rougher than you'd expected, crossed with old scars and heavy calluses that should have disappeared long ago if everything you'd heard about his kind was true. Your thumb passed slowly over one of the deeper lines.

Nothing happened. For a moment, you almost wondered whether he'd been right, until your empty stomach clenched. Hunger. Your brows drew together. It wasn't the hunger belonging to the creature sitting across from you. This wasn't the craving for blood you'd expected to encounter from a vampire. It was older, much older.

There was a boy, bare feet against frozen earth.

You couldn't see his face clearly. Everything came too quickly to understand—the wooden buildings, distant mountains, clothing unlike anything you recognized. Snow clung to strands of pink hair. Blood covered small hands. A huge fire.

The boy disappeared. Bodies took his place. So many that you couldn't count them. And standing among them was a young man. The same face. Different eyes. Still hungry.

The vision lurched.

"If you're trying to impress me, witch, you'll have to do better than parlor tricks." his voice sounded distant.

"I'm not trying to impress you."

Another flash.

Years, or rather decades. Clothing changed before your eyes. Buildings rose, weathered, and disappeared. Men carried weapons unlike the ones before them. Horses crossed roads that hadn't existed in the previous vision. Battles came and went, unfamiliar banners rising only to eventually vanish. And through every fractured image stood the same man, standing before another. He had dark hair and broad shoulders. Something about him was familiar.

Your eyes snapped open long enough to find Toji sitting nearby. He had been watching, faint amusement still lingering across his face. It disappeared when he saw you staring.

You looked back down at Ryomen's palm.

The vision returned.

Toji was there. Blood soaked through his clothing as Ryomen held him. You couldn't tell what had happened before that moment or why he'd been left in such a state. Immortal fangs sank into mortal flesh. Darkness swallowed the dying man. For several seconds, there was nothing, until Toji slowly opened his eyes.

The image vanished before you could understand anything more.

Another replaced it.

More years. Another unfamiliar age. Another man. Long brown hair tied back from his face. A strange marking stretched across his nose. His features were softer than those of the other two.

Your gaze almost shifted to Choso.

The vision didn't give you enough time. It accelerated. There were now ships, oceans, languages you couldn't understand; cities rose around them and disappeared again. Deserts. Mountains. Snow. Jungles. Three figures moved through centuries while everything surrounding them aged, died, and was replaced.

Sometimes there were others.

Sometimes there were only the same three men.

Again and again and again.

The ocean returned. A ship cut through black water beneath an unfamiliar sky. Land appeared. Immense humid heat. Dense forests. Mountains stretching towards the clouds. Scorching deserts. Different countries blurred into different towns, different towns into different faces.

Your breathing slowed. Something was familiar now. You knew these landscapes. This continent. These lands. And the three men kept moving. North, always north.

Your thumb reached the bottom of his palm.

The towns vanished.

A bell rang; once, twice, three times. Sunlight poured through colored glass. Wooden pews appeared. Candles burned along an altar. A cross rose somewhere beyond them. And white, so much white. Fabric shifted gently around a woman's ankles.

You tried to look higher, but the vision wouldn't let you.

Her face remained beyond your reach, no matter how hard you tried to focus. You caught only fragments. A hand closing around a rosary. A Bible pressed against someone's chest. A man's voice carrying passionately through a congregation. And there stood a pink-haired devil. Watching. Observing everyone around him.

Your brows drew together. There was something different about him. You couldn't understand what.

The image shattered.

A horse galloped through darkness. Someone screamed. Men followed, maybe six or five of them. You couldn't tell. Their faces blurred whenever you tried to look directly at them, but you understood enough. They were hunting him. Not only him. Them.

Your fingers tightened around Ryomen's hand.

"What?" he demanded.

"There's blood."

Toji gave a quiet laugh. "Tell us something we don't know."

"His."

The humor disappeared.

Another flash tore through you. There was gunfire, screaming horses, fire devouring the darkness. The vampires fought. The hunters fought back. Bodies littered the ground around them. One of the hunters stepped apart from the others. You couldn't place what he was. A warrior, certainly. You understood that much the instant you saw him move. There was no hesitation in him, no wild desperation belonging to a frightened mortal trying to survive an encounter with something stronger than himself. And somehow, he knew exactly what Ryomen was; more importantly, he knew how to hurt him.

The vision became impossible to follow.

The stranger struck, and Ryomen staggered. For the first time in everything you'd witnessed—centuries of violence, hunger, war, and death—someone was forcing him backwards.

"Wait..." You gripped his hand harder.

He stared down at you. "What?"

You ignored him. There had to be more.

Your thumb traced the line again, desperately searching for whatever came afterwards, yet nothing came. You tried again, still nothing. No next century. No distant city. No unfamiliar clothing. No vampire walking unchanged through another age.

Your stomach twisted.

Something glinted through the darkness. A necklace burned against a bloodied palm. Older hands clasping colder ones, placing the beads into them.

The vision disappeared.

Your eyes opened.

Morning sunlight filled the little house again. Samuel wandered casually through the kitchen as though nothing had happened, while the three vampires stared directly at you, waiting.

Ryomen's hand was still inside yours. Only then did you realize you'd begun holding it with both hands. Slowly, you released him.

He looked down at his palm. "Well?"

You stared at him. How were you supposed to explain any of that? You had watched him live longer than kingdoms. You had seen the two men sitting nearby enter his existence centuries apart. You had watched all three of them cross oceans and continents while generations lived and died around them. And then you had watched his future simply… stop.

"I don't know."

Ryomen gave a humorless laugh. "Impressive."

"I'm serious."

You looked down at his palm again. "There was a woman."

His expression remained flat. "A woman?"

"She wore white."

"How terrifying."

You ignored him. "There was a church. A cross. Someone preaching." You frowned, attempting to arrange fragments that refused to fit together. "She was holding prayer beads. A rosary, I think."

Ryomen pulled his hand away. "And?"

"I don't know."

"You've said that."

"Because I don't."

Something about that answer seemed to irritate him more than any elaborate prophecy could have.

You watched as he pulled his glove back over his hand. "You've spent your entire existence hungry. It's why you take things. Whatever you want, whenever you want them, simply because you can."

His eyes lifted towards yours.

You thought again of the woman in white. The church. The rosary resting in his bloodied hand. The strange difference in him when he'd watched her.

"But someday, you're going to want something you can't simply take."

Silence settled around the table.

His eyes remained fixed on yours.

You remembered him being forced backwards. The blood. The future refusing to show you whether he ever stood again.

"I think that's going to frighten you more than anything else I've seen."

For once, Ryomen didn't immediately answer; then he scoffed. "Enough." he pushed himself to his feet and turned away.

Toji straightened in his chair. "That's it?"

"For me." Ryomen pulled his hat lower against the approaching sunlight. "You two can waste your time chasing charms and old stones if you want."

Choso frowned. "We're supposed to stay together."

"I'm going to take care of something." Ryomen reached for the door. "We'll meet again north when you're both done."

He opened it.

For some reason, part of you wanted to stop him. You didn't know why. Perhaps because you'd seen where the road north eventually led him. Perhaps because you'd seen it end. Or perhaps because somewhere within that fractured mess of his future, a woman dressed in white was waiting inside a church.

The door closed behind him. Choso took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his forehead before turning back. You tilted your head from side to side until the bones in your neck popped.

"So." You looked between the two remaining vampires. "Are you finally going to tell me what you're here for? I highly doubt you traveled all this way for a simple palm reading."

Toji clicked his tongue. "To make it short, we might've fallen into some bad business with someone who hired a bounty hunter after us. Thing is, this man has protections against us. We can't get near him."

You pouted. "And you can't just lose track of him?"

"In case you haven't noticed, sweetheart, we've tried." Toji leaned back in his chair. "Didn't work. That's why we came to you."

You stood and gathered the four empty cups from the table, carrying them to the sink to wash later. As you passed Samuel, you ran a hand through his dark fur.

"I have something that might help," you said. "But it'll cost you."

"We have money." Choso pulled out a sack of coins and placed it on the table.

"Money isn't a problem for me." You turned back to them. "You see, I have another client who wants me to perform... something for him." You hesitated over the explanation. "Problem is, I can't complete the process because I'm missing something."

A faint tearing noise came from somewhere nearby. You looked down. Samuel was chewing on a piece of cloth.

"Samuel."

You tugged it from his mouth. The goat resisted for a moment before surrendering it.

You sighed. "The thing I need is an ancient Aztec relic."

"Aztec relic?" Toji crossed his arms. "What kind of ritual are you performing?"

"What I do with my other clients is none of your business."

Toji chuckled and lifted both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Just curious."

"What do you need us for?" Choso asked.

"I need someone to find it. Or, at the very least, escort me there."

"Escort you there?"

"Yeah." You tossed the slobber-covered cloth somewhere Samuel couldn't reach it again. "It's in a jungle an hour or two away from here. I've never really had a reason to leave this town, so I didn't think much about buying myself a donkey or mule for transportation. Guess I was wrong."

Choso sighed and brought a hand to his hair, already looking exhausted by the arrangement. Toji, however, clasped his hands together and stood from his chair.

"Alright. When do we leave?"

You yawned, covering your mouth with one hand. "Just give me five minutes to get ready. I'll meet you out front."

Both vampires nodded. They returned their chairs to the table and headed to the front door to prepare for the journey.

Toji had nearly made it outside when Samuel's head suddenly lifted. The goat screamed. He barely had time to turn before Samuel charged. His horns slammed directly into Toji's backside.

"FUCK—!"

The vampire stumbled through the doorway with a pained wail, barely catching himself before falling onto the dirt outside. He slammed the door shut behind him while cursing the goat loud enough for half of Serpent's Point to hear.

Samuel stood proudly on the other side.

You stared at him. He stared back, apparently satisfied with his work. Samuel returned to his cushions.

And with that, the bargain had been struck—two vampires, one witch, a foul-tempered goat left behind, and an ancient relic waiting somewhere.

None of them knew it yet, but by the time they returned to Serpent’s Point, the arrangement would have become far more complicated than any of them intended.

Just as expected, the journey from Serpent's Point to Puerto de Sol took roughly two hours. It was the closest town to the stretch of jungle where the artifact was supposedly hidden, making it the safest place for the vampires to leave their horses to rest before continuing the remainder of the journey on foot.

Along the way, a kind elderly man had stopped Choso after noticing the revolvers strapped to his holster. He'd insisted that a gun would do him little good once they reached the jungle and offered him his machete instead. Choso had hesitated, reluctant to take something so useful from an old stranger, but the man had practically shoved the handle into his hand before sending them on their way.

Now, several miles into the jungle, Choso had to admit the old man had been right.

The vegetation seemed determined to swallow everyone whole. Thick vines hung from the trees in tangled curtains, broad leaves overlapped one another until they nearly blocked the path, and roots twisted across the damp earth like veins in skin. The air was considerably different from the dry heat you'd left behind in Serpent's Point. Here, it was wet and heavy, clinging to your skin and filling your lungs with the smell of muddy earth, moss, and vegetation.

Choso led the way, swinging the machete whenever the growth became too dense to push through. Each strike sent severed leaves and vines tumbling onto the forest floor.

You followed behind him, carefully stepping over the roots and stones scattered across the narrow path, while Toji remained close behind. His attention rarely stayed in one place for long. His eyes moved between the trees, the branches overhead, and the dense vegetation on either side, keeping watch for any wild animal foolish enough to attack—or anything worse.

Choso grunted as he swung at yet another thick plant, slicing through its broad leaves.

"So what's the deal with that knife anyway?" he asked over his shoulder. "What's so special about it?"

You carefully stepped over another mangled root threatening to catch in your shoe.

"It's a sacrificial artifact."

Choso swung the blade again.

"A sacrificial knife, huh?" he pushed through the opening he'd created. "You sure this knife of yours is here?"

"Yeah, there used to be a village somewhere around here. If I'm not mistaken, the sacrificial altar should be buried nearby."

"But why an Aztec sacrificial knife?" Toji asked. "Why not use any other blade?"

A shallow stream cut across your path. Before you could decide where best to step, Toji crossed first and turned around, offering a hand. You accepted it, allowing him to steady you as you carefully stepped from one exposed stone to another so the bottom of your dress wouldn't touch the water. Considering how much mud already stained the fabric, you doubted keeping it dry really mattered anymore.

"If you really must know, ritual objects absorb traces of repeated intention and spiritual energy." You released Toji's hand once you reached the other side. "A blade used ceremonially over and over for sacrifice would have centuries of blood, death, prayer, fear, and offerings attached to it. Not only would that make the work I'm doing for my customer more accurate, but it would also make the knife an incredibly powerful object for any witch to have."

You shrugged. "Plus, it's cool. Who wouldn't want a historical relic in their bedroom?"

Toji smiled and slowly began raising one hand. "Tch."

You smacked him across the chest before he could say whatever filthy comment had clearly entered his mind.

"It's different when you've experienced it."

One of his eyebrows rose. "Experienced what?"

"I saw you in my visions when I was reading Ryomen's palm earlier." you looked between him and Choso. "You're both really old."

"Are you calling us elderly men?" Toji teased.

"Archaic, more like." You grinned. "Probably walked around when the dinosaurs were still here. Bet you were the first cavemen."

Toji placed a hand dramatically against his chest. "Are you hearing this, Choso? The lady thinks we're old and frail."

"Those bones are minutes away from collapsing, grandpa."

"Grandpa." Toji chuckled under his breath. "But jokes aside, that part's true. We're both really old."

Your smile faded into genuine curiosity. "Where are you from? I saw the clothing, the buildings, pieces of how you lived, but I couldn't recognize any of it."

Neither answered immediately. Choso swung the machete through another vine, while Toji walked nearby, his attention fixed on the ground. The silence stretched long enough for you to wonder whether you'd crossed some invisible boundary.

Perhaps the question was too personal. They barely knew you, after all. You hadn't even known these men for twenty-four hours, and you were asking about lives that had ended years before your grandparents' grandparents had ever drawn breath.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Toji beat you to it.

"I'm from the Muromachi period. Choso here is from Edo, and Sukuna's from the Heian Era." he ducked beneath a low-hanging branch. "He's the oldest of us three."

"I'm guessing that's the other vampire with the pink hair? Ryomen?"

"Mhm."

You looked upwards when the leaves high above suddenly rustled. Something moved through the canopy, shaking several branches before disappearing deeper into the trees. A bird, perhaps. Maybe a monkey.

"What was it like?" you asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

Their footsteps slowed for only a few seconds before resuming.

The jungle continued living around you regardless of the sudden heaviness settling over the conversation. Everywhere you looked, there was something unfamiliar to catch your attention. Strange plants grew from the damp earth in peculiar shapes and patterns. A tiny blue frog covered in black spots croaked from atop a mossy rock before disappearing under a leaf. Monkeys leapt from branch to branch high above, shaking droplets of water loose from the canopy. Somewhere farther away came the low call of an animal you couldn't identify, almost lost in the endless chorus of birds and insects.

Toji clenched his fists briefly before releasing them. His mouth tightened, and then he let out a long breath. "I was poor and miserable. Used to be a farmer."

You stopped walking. "You?"

Toji raised a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

You resumed walking. "It's just hard picturing someone like you being patient enough to tend crops."

"Did it most of my life." Toji stepped over a fallen branch. "Rice, mostly. Barley when the season allowed it. Had a little house, worked the fields with everyone else. Fixed irrigation channels when they broke. Harvest came, everybody worked. Harvest ended, everybody drank."

That sounded remarkably ordinary. It was difficult reconciling the image with the man walking next to you now. Toji, covered in weapons and scars, had once spent his days knee-deep in fields, watching the seasons change and worrying about crops instead of bounty hunters and blood.

"Did you like it?"

"Wasn't bad."

You glanced at him again.

"Then people started fighting."

"Who?"

He shrugged. "Some lord. Then another lord. Then somebody who wanted what both of 'em had. After a while, nobody in the village gave a shit who was winning." his voice remained strangely casual, as though he were describing something he'd witnessed rather than something he'd lived through. "Soldiers needed food, so they took ours. Needed men, took those too. Different banners came through every few months." his jaw tightened. "Same result."

"And that's when you met Sukuna?"

The corner of Toji's mouth twitched. "Eventually."

You didn't press him. Instead, you continued forward, your attention eventually settling on Choso's back as he cleared the path ahead.

Perhaps sensing your stare—or simply feeling some sympathy for Toji after making him revisit a life he'd left behind—Choso decided to offer something of his own.

"Fisherman."

You blinked.

"My family had a boat."

"Your family?"

He nodded without turning around. "My father and brothers."

Something about the way he said the last word made you hesitate. "How many?"

"A lot."

Toji snorted. "Couldn't remember half their damn names."

"I remembered all of them."

The answer came so quickly and firmly that Toji immediately stopped talking.

You glanced between them before looking back at Choso. "Did you like it?"

His expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah," he pushed aside a broad leaf with the flat of the machete. "You learn the water after a while. When it's safe. When a storm's coming. Where the fish'll be depending on the season. Thought I'd spend my whole life there."

"What happened?"

For the first time since he'd started speaking, Choso stopped. His eyes briefly found Toji's.

"I died."

The simplicity of the answer wiped the curiosity from your face. Guilt settled uncomfortably in your stomach. You hadn't meant to drag either of them through painful memories merely because you'd been curious. Whatever Toji had endured, whatever had happened to Choso and the family he'd left behind, neither man owed you an explanation.

You were about to apologize when Toji caught the expression on your face and spared you the trouble.

"What about you?" he asked. "How'd you become a witch?"

Your head snapped at him, surprised by the question. Still, it was fair. They had just shared pieces of lives they'd lived hundreds of years ago with a woman they'd known for less than a day. The least you could do was offer something in return.

"My grandmother."

Your eyes drifted across the vegetation as memories from years before slowly returned.

"When I was younger, my mother died from an illness. I never knew who my father was, so my grandmother took care of me afterwards." You brought your hands together, pressing your left thumb absently into your right palm. "She never really liked the idea of me watching her perform her craft. Whenever customers came for business, she'd lock herself away with them. But me being me, I always found some way to snoop around and watch her secretly."

Toji chuckled.

"I don't know why, but it fascinated me. Watching her work. Watching people come to her desperate or frightened and then leave happy because she'd helped them." You carefully stepped around a patch of slick mud. "Eventually, my grandmother realized I wasn't going to back down, so she gave up trying to keep me away and started teaching me basic things. How to read cards. How to make healing concoctions. Blessings. That sort of thing."

Your smile softened.

"Years later, when she died, she left me an entire library filled with everything she'd collected about magic, potions, rituals, and the spirit world. That's how I became who I am today."

Toji and Choso briefly exchanged glances.

"Do you like it?" Choso asked. "Being a witch, I mean."

"For the most part." You shrugged. "I like helping people. I like watching them leave my house with a smile on their face."

You looked towards him knowingly. "But I'm guessing that's not what you're really asking. You're asking about the darker parts of it, aren't you?"

Choso huffed. "I was getting there."

You chuckled, though your expression turned more serious seconds later.

"It really depends on the request. Some people ask me to bring back a lover. Others want money or good fortune. Some want me to cause misfortune to a rival or eliminate them. I try to ask for their reasoning first. I don't particularly enjoy the idea of dooming someone who doesn't deserve it. Business is business, sure, but sometimes I reject the offer."

You rolled your eyes. "You'd be surprised how many cheating men come asking me to bring back the partner they lost. And when I can't or won't they ask me to curse them or their new lover instead."

Toji made an amused sound.

"Sometimes I think they're just looking for an easy way out rather than accepting that they fucked up." You shook your head. "And I don't like people trying to use my craft because they're too cowardly to deal with the consequences of their own choices."

"That's a reasonable excuse to reject an offer."

The conversation slowly faded as the jungle thickened. Through a break in the vegetation ahead, you saw darkness where there shouldn't have been any. A cave. Your pace immediately quickened. If your memory served you correctly—and if the books your grandmother had left behind were accurate—the artifact should be somewhere inside.

You slipped ahead of both vampires, taking the lead for the first time since entering the jungle.

Toji scanned the surrounding ground until he found a sturdy fallen branch. He tore a strip of fabric from an old piece of cloth, wrapped it tightly around one end, and lit the makeshift torch. Flame caught along the fabric, casting an amber glow across the cave entrance.

Inside, the air changed immediately. The jungle had been humid, but the cave was suffocatingly damp. Cool moisture clung to the stone walls, and somewhere deep within the darkness came the steady drip... drip... drip of water falling into a pool none of you could see. The smell of wet stone and dirt filled your nose as the sunlight behind weakened with every step.

If you'd been anybody else, perhaps you would've turned around before putting one foot inside, but places like this thrilled you.

Toji lifted the torch higher, sweeping its light across the jagged walls. "You're not scared?"

You shook your head. "Nah, not really. It's going to take a hell of a lot more than a dark cave to scare me. Especially after some of the things I've seen."

You continued deeper into the cave system. The passage narrowed before splitting in two. You were about to continue straight when something pulled at you; not physically, energetically. The sensation caught somewhere behind your ribs, strong enough to make you stop.

Toji nearly walked into you. "What?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you reached for his hand—the one holding the torch—and guided him to the passage on the right.

Light spilled across the chamber. Your eyes widened when the light revealed a carved stone table standing in the center. It was an altar. Behind it, skulls had been arranged along the stone wall. Some still wore remnants of elaborate headpieces, while others had been marked or painted with faded pigments. Several were cracked. Others were missing their lower jaws entirely. A few remained remarkably intact despite however many years they'd spent hidden inside the cave.

Excitement immediately overtook any sense of unease you should've felt. There was so much you could do with those skulls. Unfortunately, you'd brought only one small satchel with you, and it was barely large enough to hold the knife. Had you known all of this was here, you would've brought something considerably larger and taken everything it could carry. Perhaps you could convince Toji or Choso to bring you back another time.

From behind, Choso suddenly noticed something glinting near the altar as the torchlight passed over it.

"Hey." he crouched. "There's something over here."

Before you could stop him, he reached down and picked it up.

The knife was unmistakable.

Its broad handle had been carved into the likeness of some ancient creature, almost entirely covered with tiny pieces of turquoise fitted together into an intricate mosaic. Centuries had dulled the stones into uneven shades of blue and green, broken here and there by small pieces of shell and darker stone. Even with the grime of age, traces of its former beauty remained.

"Careful!" you lunged forward and snatched it from Choso's hands.

The blade was considerably less delicate. A thick length of black obsidian extended from the ornate handle, chipped along both edges until they narrowed into a wicked point. Its glasslike surface caught the torchlight wherever the stone had fractured, revealing overlapping ridges left behind by whoever had shaped it. It wasn't smooth like a steel knife. It looked raw, almost primitive beside the painstaking craftsmanship of its turquoise handle.

Beautiful as it was, there was nothing ornamental about it.

This was the blade you'd come for. A ceremonial knife that had once drawn blood and carved hearts from bodies upon the very altar before you.

Your eyes slowly traveled to the skulls decorating the chamber. Most likely, some of them had belonged to its victims.

A sharp hiss suddenly came from somewhere.

"Fuck."

You turned.

Toji slapped a hand against the side of his neck. When he pulled it away and opened his palm in the dim torchlight, something small moved against his skin. A spider. Its body was compact and brown, covered in short, coarse hairs mottled in uneven shades of brown and gray. Eight long legs stretched outwards, faint darker bands marking each one before they tapered towards blackened tips.

Toji simply stared at it until his mind seemed to catch up with what he was holding.

"FUCK!"

He flung the spider away, directly at Choso.

It landed against his forearm. Choso looked down. Unlike Toji, he didn't scream. He merely regarded the creature with bored irritation, watching as it adjusted itself against his sleeve. It sank its fangs into his exposed skin.

Choso's expression flattened further. With his other hand, he brushed the spider away. It hit the stone floor and immediately scurried to a narrow crack in the wall, disappearing before either vampire could retaliate.

"Didn't know you were afraid of spiders, Toji," Choso said.

"Shut up."

You barely registered their bickering. Your attention had already returned to the knife resting in your hands. It was perfect.

Even through the fabric wrapped around its handle, you could feel the weight surrounding it—not physical weight, but something old and dense, something that had accumulated over countless rituals until the object itself seemed saturated with history. There was so much one could do with this little thing.

Carefully, you wrapped it before slipping it into the satchel.

Toji and Choso's teasing had apparently escalated into something physical. By the time you turned around, the two vampires were hauling at one another like children.

You stepped between them and shoved them apart.

"Come on. Let's go back." You adjusted the satchel against your side. "We got what we came here for. Now we can take care of your business."

Neither of them gave the spider another thought. Perhaps they should have.

Throughout the journey back, you became increasingly aware of Toji shifting uncomfortably.

He'd offered to let you ride with him, giving you enough room to sit at the front of the saddle while he held the reins.

For the journey to the jungle, the arrangement had been comfortable enough. The three of you had spent most of the ride engaged in pointless chatter, occasionally teasing one another whenever the road grew too quiet. Now, on the way back to Serpent's Point, both vampires had become strangely silent.

At first, you assumed they were simply tired. Maybe they were still too stubborn to properly apologize after their ridiculous argument in the cave.

Toji shifted again and again. Each movement seemed more uncomfortable than the last.

The sun had begun sinking at the horizon, finally allowing the vampires to remove some of the layers they'd needed throughout the day. Toji loosened the fabric around his neck and pulled down some of the clothing that had protected his skin, sucking in a deep breath as cooler evening air finally reached him.

He removed his cowboy hat and began fanning himself with it. Sweat trickled down the side of his throat.

You frowned. "Are you alright?"

He continued fanning himself.

"Yeah..." Another breath. "Sure... totally fine."

You glanced back over your shoulder. He wasn't making even the slightest attempt to conceal the lie.

"What's wrong?"

Toji swallowed and shifted in the saddle again, flapping the hat harder against himself.

"I think when that spider bit me, it had some sort of effect on my body."

Your concern immediately sharpened. You leaned backwards, pressing one hand against his forehead before moving your fingers to his neck to check his pulse.

"What do you feel?"

"Not there."

Toji gently pushed your hand away.

Your brows knitted together. "Then what is it?"

"It's fine." he cleared his throat. "I got it handled."

Your shoulders tensed. Whatever amusement you'd initially found in his strange behavior disappeared.

"You're starting to make me worried."

"Really, sweetheart." Toji took another deep breath. "I got it handled. The sooner we get you back home, the sooner this is over."

"If you tell me what it is, I might have something at home that can help."

His mouth pulled into an awkward smile. "Trust me. No concoction of yours is gonna help with this."

You waited.

Toji looked away.

"It's sort of a..." he hesitated. "...manly issue."

You stared at him. "Manly issue?"

"Mhm."

You twisted around as much as the saddle allowed so you could properly inspect him. His brows were drawn together with discomfort, though his mouth still attempted that ridiculous reassuring smile.

It was strange. When you'd checked him, his temperature hadn't seemed abnormal, and his pulse had felt normal—or at least as normal as you imagined a vampire's pulse could be.

Your eyes traveled downwards to his face, his chest, his stomach, waist, and then lower.

Oh.

There was a very obvious tent forming inside his trousers.

Your head snapped forward so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. Heat flooded your cheeks. "That sort of man problem?!" you half yelled, half whispered.

"MHM."

"This happened after the spider bit you?" You risked a small glance over your shoulder.

"At least I think it did." Toji shifted again. "Only started feeling this way after we left that damned cave."

"Ay, ay, ay..." you pressed a hand against your forehead before dragging it through your hair. "The spider. What did it look like? What color was it?"

Toji adjusted the reins in his hands. "Small, robust brown thing. Face was kinda orange-red. Dark markings around its legs."

Your eyes widened.

Oh. Oh no.

The spider that had bitten him was a phoneutria—a Brazilian wandering spider. Its venom was notorious for producing an assortment of unpleasant symptoms in humans: intense pain and swelling around the bite, muscle spasms, nausea, sweating, changes in blood pressure, and blurred vision, and in rarer cases …priapism.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped again. That certainly explained the boner.

You slapped a hand against your forehead. "That was a phoneutria spider."

"A what spider?"

"Phoneutria. Brazilian wandering spider."

Toji's posture straightened. "Wait… you mean one of those banana spiders?"

"Not exactly. 'Banana spider' gets used for several different spiders. You're probably thinking of the big golden trichonephila that people sometimes call banana spiders. Phoneutria are called that sometimes too because they can be found around banana plants and have occasionally ended up in shipments."

Toji stared at the back of your head. You looked to the horizon, where the last remnants of daylight were beginning to fade as the moon slowly claimed the darkening sky.

"The wandering spider biting you is why you're currently having your..." You waved vaguely at his lap. "...manly problem."

Another thought occurred to you. The spider hadn't bitten only Toji.

"And I'm guessing it's the same case for your friend over there." you pointed at Choso.

Choso's shoulders stiffened.

Toji followed your gaze.

For several seconds, neither vampire said anything.

Toji groaned. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You'd spent the day trekking through a jungle with two centuries-old vampires to retrieve an ancient sacrificial knife from a cave filled with human skulls, only for the most immediate problem on the journey home to be a spider bite, leaving both immortal men with an extremely mortal inconvenience.

"Don't worry," you managed between laughs. "I might be able to prepare something for you when we get home."

Toji narrowed his eyes. "And if it doesn't work?"

You smiled. "Cold bath."

His expression immediately soured. "Don't even think about throwing a cold bucket at me."

That only made you laugh harder.

You turned forward again, still smiling as Toji muttered complaints and the horses continued along the road back to Serpent's Point.

For all the dangers you'd expected to encounter when agreeing to travel with two vampires, this certainly hadn't been one of them.

As soon as the three of you made it back home, you darted to the crafting room, already running through possible remedies in your head. There had to be something among your grandmother's old recipes that could counteract the venom or, at the very least, lessen its effects until it worked its way out of their systems.

You barely made it through the doorway when Toji caught you by the arm and pulled you back before you could disappear inside.

"Toji—"

"No."

Instead, he steered you in the opposite direction, straight to the bedroom.

Choso refused to follow. He insisted that he had the situation handled and could take care of himself, though the strained expression on his face and the stiffness of his movements suggested even he wasn't entirely convinced by his own words. Still, he remained stubborn, disappearing elsewhere in the house while the other man ushered you into the bedroom.

The moment the door shut, whatever restraint he'd maintained throughout the journey finally broke.

The vampire grabbed and tossed you onto the bed. Your back and ass landed against the soft cotton sheets, the mattress dipping under your weight as you scrambled backwards. Your legs caught against the edge, forcing your thighs farther apart.

Toji stopped. His eyes traveled between them. One hand had already disappeared inside his trousers, stroking himself through the discomfort he had endured for the past two hours. The humor he'd maintained during the ride was gone. His jaw was clenched, his breathing heavier than before, and every movement of his hand seemed to offer only temporary relief. Apparently, he'd reached his limit.

His shirt was the first thing to go, discarded somewhere on the floor without care. His belt followed with the metallic clatter of its buckle; lastly, his trousers and undergarments until they joined the growing pile besides the bed.

Toji climbed towards you. His hands closed around your thighs and dragged you down the mattress until your hips nearly reached its edge. There was no teasing buildup, no attempt at patience. He hooked one finger in your underwear and pulled the fabric aside before lowering his mouth between your legs.

His tongue dragged through your folds once, twice, three times. The slow strokes quickly fell into a rhythm before changing, the flat of his tongue circling around your clit and then flicking rapidly against the sensitive bud.

A moan escaped you.

Your eyes fell shut as one hand twisted into the sheets. The other immediately found his hair, gathering a fistful and pulling him closer.

Toji laughed. "And here I thought I was the one who needed taking care of."

He punctuated the words with a wet kiss against your outer lips.

Two fingers spread your labia apart before his attention dropped lower. His mouth latched onto your cunt, tongue pushing against the entrance with the desperation of a man who'd discovered water after wandering through a desert.

His breath washed hotly over your skin. The tip of his nose brushed against your clit every time he moved his head.

Another moan tore from you, higher than the last.

You felt his mouth curl into a smirk. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

He sucked once more before pressing another kiss against your swollen flesh and pulling away just long enough to reposition you. His hands hooked beneath your thighs, lifting your legs until one rested over each of his shoulders.

His mouth returned. His tongue dragged in one long stroke from your entrance all the way to your clit before focusing entirely on the bundle of nerves.

"Toji!"

Both hands buried themselves in his hair.

"I think I'm—"

He didn't let you finish. Instead, his tongue moved faster. Your legs began trembling against either side of his head, but his grip tightened around your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. Two fingers pushed inside you, curling before withdrawing and sinking back in.

Your eyes rolled back.

Toji shook his head from side to side, adding another layer of friction until the pressure building inside became unbearable.

Then it snapped.

Your body jolted as a sudden gush of water spilled from your core.

Toji pulled his mouth away, quickly moving one hand as the release continued, your thighs trembling around him until the sensation finally began to subside. When it stopped, embarrassment immediately replaced the pleasure. Heat flooded your cheeks. You fixed your attention on a single point along the ceiling, refusing to look anywhere near the man between your legs.

Toji chuckled.

The mattress shifted as he crawled over you until his face hovered only inches from yours.

"First time?"

You slowly nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes.

His chuckle was considerably softer this time.

He leaned down and kissed you before his mouth wandered to your neck. His lips dragged over the skin there, sucking gently until you felt the unmistakable scrape of fangs sinking in.

You gasped. One hand immediately reached for the back of his head as the sharp sting melted into something strangely pleasurable, curling your toes against the sheets. You trusted him enough to know he wouldn't drain you dry.

When Toji finally pulled away, blood stained the corner of his mouth, collecting along the scar carved through his lip.

"Hope you're not tired," he murmured with a grin. "Because I still need to be taken care of."

He straightened.

Your gaze dropped.

His cock was painfully hard, throbbing as precum gathered at the tip. Even the skin looked flushed, almost angry from the prolonged erection. From where you lay, you guessed he was around six inches, perhaps longer, though you had no idea whether this was how he normally looked or if the spider's venom had affected that too.

You pushed yourself upright, shifting onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs farther apart and giving him an unobstructed view of your glistening cunt. Looking back over your shoulder, you deliberately held his gaze, the gesture almost challenging.

Toji's grin widened. "Oh, you're on."

One knee sank into the mattress, then the second. His hands slid across your sacrum before curling around your hips and lower stomach. He pumped his cock three times, positioned himself behind you, and pushed inside.

The sensation stole the breath from your lungs.

Your legs instinctively spread farther, allowing him deeper as your fingers clenched around one of the pillows. From behind, Toji's hands tightened around your lower back, anchoring you against him as a jagged breath escaped his chest.

"Fuck—" you gasped into the pillow. "Just make sure to pull out before you come."

"Mhm."

Toji nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he began to move.

At first, his pace remained slow. He withdrew carefully before pushing back inside, forcing himself to maintain some semblance of control. Yet every time he pulled out, his cock throbbed harshly before disappearing between your walls again.

Your body clenched around him. His quiet huffs slowly became heavier breaths.

The restraint didn't last. His thrusts began accelerating, each one landing harder than the last until the slow rhythm deteriorated into a relentless pounding. The bed creaked, shifting slightly with every movement.

Your mouth fell open. Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips as your moans became increasingly difficult to contain.

"Toji..."

His palm cracked against your ass.

You jolted forward, eyes snapping open in surprise.

"Say my name again."

"Toji..."

"Louder."

Another smack landed against your ass, leaving the skin burning his palm.

"Toji!"

His pace accelerated. Every time his tip pressed deeply inside, your body tightened around him, pleasure gathering low in your stomach until your legs began to tremble.

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open.

Both of you froze.

Your heads turned towards the doorway.

Choso stood there. One hand remained buried inside his pants, his expression caught somewhere between humiliation, frustration, and outright physical misery.

For several seconds, nobody said anything, then your mouth curled into a smirk.

"Thought you said you had it handled."

His eyebrows furrowed. "I need you."

Your eyes narrowed playfully as you looked at him through your lashes.

"Close the door and come here." You tapped the mattress.

Choso hesitated only briefly before nodding.

The door clicked shut behind him. His shirt came off first, followed quickly by the pants and underwear in one hurried motion. He climbed onto the bed, though once he reached you, uncertainty finally seemed to catch up with him.

You gestured for him to lie down in front of you.

Choso obeyed. You spread his legs and lowered yourself towards him, taking his cock into your mouth. A low sound escaped his throat. Your tongue circled his length before tracing around the head, one hand wrapping around what your mouth couldn't comfortably take while the other gently massaged his balls.

Behind you, Toji went still. You couldn't see his expression, but Choso could.

Toji's face twisted into a snarl. His hands tightened around your hips, and he slammed back into you.

You tore your mouth away from Choso with a gasp. The sudden thrust forced your entire body forward, your hand remaining wrapped around Choso's cock while you attempted to catch your breath.

You glanced back. Toji looked considerably less amused than before.

A smile tugged at your mouth.

You licked across Choso's tip before taking him back between your lips. Toji responded by thrusting harder, meaner.

The brown-haired vampire released a low moan. One hand rose to your face, caressing your cheek while he watched you through half-lidded eyes.

The rhythm grew increasingly frantic. He continued pounding until Toji lost his balance. His back hit the mattress, and he dragged you down with him, which in turn pulled Choso.

The new position left Toji beneath you.

His hands closed firmly around your ass as he forced you down against every upward thrust of his hips, meeting your movements with his own. Whatever control he'd possessed earlier had disappeared completely. His rhythm became erratic, driven by the venom and the need for release rather than any deliberate pace.

The pressure inside you began coiling again. Your walls clenched tighter around him with every thrust. At the same time, your hand moved faster around Choso's dick, slick with your saliva as you took him deeper. Your lips traveled farther down his length until his head pressed near the back of your throat and your nose nearly brushed against the dark hair at his base.

Choso clenched a fist full of your hairs.

Toji's hips snapped upwards.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Warmth suddenly filled the inside your mouth and womb.

Your entire body stiffened.

Toji had come inside despite the warning.

The realization barely had time to register before your own orgasm overwhelmed it. Your walls fluttered and clenched tightly around him as another wave of pleasure tore through.

Your hand remained wrapped around Choso, thumb resting lightly against his tip as the last of his release spilled on your face.

For minutes, none of you moved. Whatever strength remained between the three of you disappeared.

Everyone collapsed on the bedsheets. Toji landed to the right, Choso on the left, and you in the middle.

Your breathing slowly began to settle as your thighs closed, feeling Toji's release slowly slipping between them. You'd explicitly told the bastard to pull out. He hadn't. Ordinarily, you would've had considerably more to say about that, but right now you were far too exhausted to care. That would be a problem for later.

You rolled towards Toji and nuzzled against his chest, breathing in his scent as your body finally began relaxing. One hand reached to the other side until your fingertips found Choso's face, gently tracing along his cheek. He caught your hand, bringing your wrist closer to his lips where he left a kiss before sinking his fangs into the skin, just as the other vampire had done before.

You inhaled sharply. His mouth closed over the small wounds, drinking slowly rather than greedily. When he was done, he licked the small puncture wounds and left yet another kiss.

As the hours passed, the room fell quiet.

The spider venom, the exhausting journey, the jungle, and everything that had happened since dawn finally caught up with everyone. Tangled together beneath the sheets, surrounded by discarded clothing and the lingering evidence of what had just happened, the three of you succumbed to exhaustion.

Surprisingly, you woke before everyone.

For a few moments, you remained still, blinking the sleep from your eyes as morning light slipped through the curtains and painted pale streaks across the bedroom floor.

The room looked different from what it had been the previous evening. Clothes lay scattered everywhere, the sheets were hopelessly tangled around three bodies, and the air still carried the faint remnants of sweat, blood, and everything else you had absolutely no intention of thinking too deeply about this early in the morning.

Toji slept heavily, one arm thrown carelessly across the space you'd occupied, while Choso lay on your other side, considerably more composed even in sleep despite his hair having fallen messily across his face sometime during the night.

You stared at them for a moment, still finding the situation somewhat difficult to comprehend.

Two ancient vampires were sleeping peacefully in your bed when, only yesterday morning, you hadn't even known they existed. Somehow, within the span of a single day, you'd allowed them into your home, traveled through a jungle with them in search of an ancient sacrificial artifact, learned fragments of the human lives they'd left behind centuries ago, treated the unfortunate consequences of a venomous spider bite in a rather unconventional manner, and ended the night tangled between each other.

The thought became stranger the longer you considered it, so you carefully slipped out from between their bodies before your mind could dwell on it any further.

After retrieving a clean dress from the drawer, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen yourself up for the day. Warm water soothed the lingering soreness from yesterday's journey as you washed your hair, scrubbed the sweat and grime from your skin, and thoroughly rinsed your mouth before getting dressed. It wasn't until you caught sight of yourself in the mirror that you remembered the two puncture wounds Toji had left on your neck.

"Shit," you muttered, leaning closer to inspect them.

The marks were small but unmistakable, two dark punctures surrounded by bruised skin. You carefully dabbed ointment over them before adjusting the neckline of your dress in a poor attempt to conceal the evidence. Hopefully, nobody became curious enough to ask about them. Explaining that vampires existed was already a conversation you had no interest in having. Explaining that you'd slept with two of them was considerably worse. Lying seemed like the most reasonable option, though what exactly you would claim had bitten you was a problem for your future self.

When you walked into the kitchen, Samuel was already awake. The black goat sat squarely in the middle of the floor, his horizontal pupils following you as you crossed the room. You stopped when you noticed him staring. Samuel stared back. Slowly, almost deliberately, the goat tilted his head before giving it a small shake, and there was something so profoundly judgmental about his expression that you immediately knew what he was thinking.

"Don't look at me like that. Have you seen them? Anyone would've done the same.”

Samuel lowered his head and shook it again.

Your mouth dropped open. "Oh, fuck you too."

The goat turned away as though he wanted nothing more to do with the conversation. Apparently, even your own pet had standards.

Still muttering beneath your breath, you crouched near the stove and prepared the fire. Once the flame caught, you placed a cast-iron pan over it and cracked several eggs against its edge, listening to them sizzle when they hit the hot surface.

You prepared more than usual, leaving enough behind for both Toji and Choso. They didn't necessarily need ordinary food, particularly after having fed yesterday, but it still felt appropriate to leave them breakfast. Besides, you'd already learned that vampires were perfectly capable of eating normal food. Whether their bodies actually gained anything from it was another matter entirely.

"Good morning."

You glanced over your shoulder to find Choso standing at the entrance to the kitchen, yawning as he rubbed the sleep from one eye. Apparently, modesty hadn't returned to him because he'd gathered a bundle of his discarded clothing and was using it to cover himself.

"Morning. Left you both breakfast by the stove." You gestured to the food before pointing at another door. "Bathroom's there if you need it."

Choso looked at the pan and then back at you. "You didn't have to."

"I know."

Something about the simplicity of the answer made him pause. A small smile touched his mouth before he nodded. "Thanks."

You gathered several jars from the kitchen shelves and tucked them beneath one arm. "I'll be in my workroom. I'm going to start preparing that counterspell for your bounty hunter."

You made your way down the short hallway and opened the final door, only for Samuel to immediately trot past your legs and enter first. You looked back at Choso. "Do not disturb us. We have work to do."

Choso laughed quietly as the door closed.

The workroom was considerably more cluttered than the rest of the house. Shelves covered nearly every wall, packed with glass bottles, dried plants, candles, bundles of herbs, bones, stones, powders, oils, and books inherited from your grandmother. Some were so old their leather bindings had begun cracking apart at the spine, while others contained generations of handwritten notes squeezed into every available margin. At the center of the room stood a heavy wooden table permanently stained by years of your work, its surface covered in scratches, wax, and discoloration from concoctions you had long since forgotten.

You placed the jars upon the table before reaching for the satchel. The atmosphere in the room seemed to change the moment you removed the knife. Even beneath its wrappings, you could feel it. Yesterday, excitement had prevented you from properly appreciating the spiritual weight attached to the artifact, but here, surrounded by the tools of your craft and far removed from the cave where it had rested for centuries, its presence was considerably easier to distinguish.

Carefully, you unfolded the cloth. Turquoise caught the morning light first, followed by the dark gleam of obsidian. Samuel immediately took several steps backwards.

"Yeah," you murmured, staring at the blade. "I know."

The knife was old, though not merely in years. It was old in the way certain objects became after witnessing too much. Blood had touched that blade countless times. Prayers had been spoken over it, people had feared it, worshipped around it, and died because of it. Whatever remained of those moments had soaked itself so deeply into the stone that even centuries of abandonment hadn't been enough to erase them. That lingering energy was precisely why your other client wanted it and why you had gone through so much trouble to retrieve it.

Still, studying something so heavily saturated with ritual energy gave you an idea of how to approach the vampires' problem.

Their hunter had somehow learned how to weaken them, but more importantly, he'd learned how to protect himself. If his defenses were spiritual rather than physical, simply placing another protection over them might not be enough. Two opposing forces could interfere with one another, perhaps even make matters worse. You needed something subtler, something that wouldn't overpower the hunter's protection but would instead allow the vampires to slip beneath it unnoticed.

You returned the knife carefully to its wrappings and pulled a book from the shelf.

"Let's see what the old woman knew."

Samuel sneezed.

"Don't disrespect your great-grandmother."

The goat stared at you.

You had barely opened the book when a heavy knock suddenly struck the front door.

You froze, your fingers resting against the yellowed page while Samuel's ears immediately lifted. Another knock followed, considerably harder than the first. It wasn't the polite tapping of a neighbor coming to borrow something. Three heavy blows rattled the wood in its frame hard enough for you to hear them clearly from the workroom.

From elsewhere in the house came the unmistakable sound of Choso swearing.

"Expecting someone?" he called.

"No."

Another knock rattled the door.

A familiar voice came from outside. "Toji. Choso."

You recognized it immediately, and so did Samuel. The goat's ears flattened against his head.

"Oh."

Apparently, the other one had returned.

By the time you stepped into the kitchen, Choso had hurriedly pulled on his trousers and was struggling to button his shirt while walking. Toji emerged from the bedroom seconds later, looking considerably less concerned, his hair an absolute disaster and his pants sitting low around his hips.

The knocking came again, followed by an increasingly irritated, "Open the damn door."

Toji rubbed a hand over his face. "He's gonna be pissed."

Choso glared at him. "You think?"

"You two were supposed to meet him somewhere?"

Choso stopped buttoning his shirt long enough to look at you. "Last night."

You winced. "Oh."

Toji merely shrugged. "Got distracted."

Choso stared at him. "You could've phrased that differently."

"Why? That's what happened."

Another violent knock shook the door, and this time Samuel screamed back at it.

"Would somebody open this fucking door?"

You sighed and pushed past both vampires. "Move."

The moment you pulled the door open, Ryomen stood on the other side looking absolutely furious. Dust covered the lower half of his clothing, suggesting he'd been traveling for some time, and whatever patience he'd possessed when the three of them separated yesterday had clearly disappeared somewhere along the road.

His red eyes moved immediately past you, first settling on Choso and then Toji before returning to you. His gaze traveled downwards, briefly noticing that your hair was still damp from your bath before catching on the two puncture wounds decorating your neck.

Sukuna slowly looked at Toji again.

Toji smiled. "Morning."

His expression went completely blank. Choso closed his eyes as though preparing himself for whatever came next, while you pressed your lips together. Samuel, possessing no such restraint, screamed again.

Sukuna's attention shifted towards the goat. Samuel lowered his head, scraping one hoof against the floor, and for one glorious second you genuinely believed your goat intended to charge at him.

You quickly grabbed him by one horn before he could attempt it. "No." Samuel fought against your hold. "Absolutely not."

Sukuna stared at the scene before him as though traveling alone for the remainder of eternity had suddenly become an incredibly appealing possibility. He returned his attention to his companions. "You missed the meeting point."

"Yeah." Toji scratched his stomach. "About that—"

"I waited."

"We got delayed."

Ryomen's eyes flicked to the puncture wounds on your neck again. "So I see."

Toji's grin widened while Choso looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him.

You finally released Samuel once the goat stopped attempting to murder your guest. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm almost done with your protection spell. If these two hadn't gotten themselves bitten by a venomous spider, I would've started yesterday."

He slowly turned to them. "A what?"

"Long story," Choso muttered.

Toji slapped him on the shoulder. "Very long."

Sukuna's stare moved between the two men, then to the hallway behind them, before returning to the marks on your neck. You could practically watch the pieces connect inside his head. His face twisted with disgust.

"Animals."

Toji laughed. "Jealous?"

"I'd rather have a priest exorcise me."

You stepped aside and opened the door wider. "Are you coming inside, or are you going to stand there insulting everyone all morning?"

His eyes fell to the threshold, but he did not attempt to cross it. Instead, his gaze returned to you, and for the briefest moment you wondered whether he remembered yesterday—the woman dressed in white, his blood, and the strange future you'd claimed was waiting somewhere ahead of him.

"No."

You raised an eyebrow. "Still don't believe me?"

"I don't believe in nonsense."

"You came to a witch for supernatural protection."

His jaw tightened. "Finish whatever you're doing for them. We leave afterwards." he turned to his horse.

"Ryomen."

He stopped.

You weren't entirely sure why you'd called after him. Perhaps some part of you wanted another look at him after everything you'd witnessed in his palm.

You leaned against the doorframe. "If you ever find yourself standing inside a church, try not to be an asshole."

Sukuna slowly glanced over his shoulder, his expression flattening. "Go to hell."

"Eventually."

He continued to his horse without another word. You watched him for another moment before stepping back and closing the door. Toji was still laughing, Choso had finally managed to finish buttoning his shirt, and Samuel looked deeply disappointed that nobody had allowed him to commit murder before breakfast.

"Alright." You pointed at the stove. "Eat. Then leave me alone until I'm finished with your spell."

Toji immediately reached for a plate. "What about afterwards?"

You gave him a look.

His grin returned. "Just asking."

You shook your head and headed back to the workroom, Samuel trotting faithfully behind.

For now, you had a counterspell to finish, an ancient sacrificial knife to study, and two vampires who had brought considerably more trouble into your home than their business was probably worth.

Whatever waited for them farther north was no longer your concern.

Several weeks had passed since Sukuna, Toji and Choso had made their way to Whiskey Falls after the massacre they had left behind in Sourwater.

After years of traveling, drifting from place to place in search of somewhere they could finally call home, Naobito had offered them exactly that: a place in the town he governed, where he promised them safety and protection so long as their true nature remained a secret.

Whiskey Falls wasn't particularly remarkable compared to any of the other towns they had traveled to. There were ranches, cattle, a saloon that served decent enough liquor, and a church whose bell rang so frequently Sukuna had considered tearing the damned thing from its tower himself.

He leaned against one of the wooden railings from the saloon's second-floor balcony, a cigar burning slowly between his fingers as the evening settled over. Toji and Choso were somewhere inside, their voices occasionally becoming distinguishable among the laughter and music spilling through, but Sukuna had abandoned them nearly twenty minutes ago. He'd told himself he wanted some air, but that excuse became considerably less convincing when his attention drifted across the street for what must have been the tenth time.

She was still there, biting her lip as she stood outside one of the establishments, her attention fixed on a small note in her hands rather than the blond Zenin brat talking to her. Naoya had positioned himself far too close for Sukuna’s liking, one shoulder resting casually against the wall besides her as he spoke. Whatever he said eventually pulled her attention away from the note, earning him a small, polite smile.

Sukuna's jaw tightened.

That annoying bastard.

Naoya had been circling her for weeks now. He had noticed almost immediately, though he'd never bothered asking why the knowledge irritated him so much. Whenever church service ended, Naoya somehow happened to be nearby. Whenever she needed something carried home, suddenly he was available. Flowers occasionally appeared in her hands, and Sukuna didn't need anyone to tell him where they'd come from.

It was pathetic. If a man wanted a woman, he should simply… His thoughts stopped. Simply what? Take her?

The answer had come naturally enough that he almost laughed. That was how things had always worked. If Sukuna wanted something, he took it. Land, money, blood, lives—it made little difference. Humanity invented rules because humans lacked the strength to live without them. He had abandoned such restrictions centuries ago.

Yet his gaze returned to her.

Naoya said something else. This time she laughed. Not the polite little smile from before, an actual laugh.

Sukuna's fingers tightened around the cigar.

"Careful."

Toji's voice came from behind him.

Sukuna didn't turn.

Toji stepped onto the porch with a beer bottle in one hand and followed his stare across the street. It took him approximately two seconds to understand. A knowing smile appeared.

"Ah."

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were going to."

Toji took a drink. "Was gonna ask why you've spent the last twenty minutes glaring at Naobito's boy like you're trying to set him on fire with your mind."

"I'm not."

"Riiight…"

Sukuna finally looked at him.

Toji raised his free hand in surrender, though the amusement never left his face. "None of my business."

"It isn't."

"Mhm."

Sukuna turned away.

Across the street, Naoya offered her his arm.

Something ugly twisted inside Sukuna's chest.

The Zenin boy was speaking again. Sukuna couldn't make out the words from this distance—not with the noise coming from the saloon—but whatever he'd asked caused her to hesitate and shake her head. Naoya smiled anyways. He reached for the parcel beneath her arm, apparently offering to carry it, and after another moment of hesitation, she surrendered it.

Sukuna's expression darkened.

"Why don't you just kill him? You've killed men for less." Toji shrugged.

He had. For far less.

The vampire looked across the street again. It would be easy. Naoya was human; he was dumb. Sukuna could cross the street, drag him into an alley, snap his neck, and return before the idiot even understood what was happening. By tomorrow morning, Naoya would no longer be a problem.

The thought should have satisfied him. Instead, something stopped him. Not morality. Certainly not concern for Naoya. Her.

Sukuna imagined her expression when she discovered what he'd done. The fear. The disgust. Perhaps hatred.

His mouth twisted.

Why the fuck should that matter?

He continued watching as the two began walking away together. The man watched them disappear down the road. Something about the sight unsettled him in a way violence never had. He didn't simply want Naoya gone. That was the problem.

If another man wanted something Sukuna possessed, eliminating him would normally be enough. There would be no competition afterwards, nothing standing between him and whatever he'd decided belonged to him. But she didn't belong to him, and killing every man who looked at her wouldn't change that.

His expression hardened. Worse, Sukuna found himself wanting something he couldn't properly name. He wanted her to look for him when she entered a room. He wanted that laugh Naoya had pulled from her moments ago directed at him instead. He wanted her to approach him without fear, to sit besides him without being commanded, to seek his company because somehow his presence had become preferable to everyone else's. He wanted…

Sukuna's thoughts stopped.

A memory struck him with such suddenness that his body went still.

He remembered that house years before, the one with the flowers hanging from the walls and a stupid goat screaming somewhere nearby. Your fingers tracing the lines of his palms. The warnings you had given him.

"You've spent your entire existence hungry."

His stomach turned.

"So you take things. Whatever you want, whenever you want them, simply because you can."

He remembered scoffing at her. He remembered thinking the entire performance pathetic.

At the far end of the street, the woman and Naoya passed beneath the shadow cast by the church. Her father's church.

For the first time in years, your words returned with perfect clarity.

"But someday, you're going to want something you can't simply take."

He could take her. Of course he could. He could walk across Whiskey Falls tonight, pull her from her father's home, throw the girl over his horse, and disappear before anyone in town possessed the sense to stop him. He could kill Naoya. Kill anyone else foolish enough to pursue her. He could keep her besides him for the next hundred years if that was what he wanted. He could turn the woman into a vampire, make her his spawn just as he'd done with Toji and Choso centuries ago.

But he couldn't force her to reach for him.

Couldn't command her to laugh for him the way she had for another man. Couldn't threaten her into trusting him. Couldn't force affection into existence simply because he'd decided he wanted it.

For perhaps the first time in his existence, possession would not be enough. He wanted to be chosen.

Sukuna's face hardened immediately, almost as though the realization itself had insulted him. "Son of a bitch."

Toji raised an eyebrow. "Naoya?"

"No."

Thousands of miles down south, in a little house at the edge of Serpent's Point, lived a witch Sukuna suddenly despised considerably more than he had five minutes ago.

Toji studied him for another second. Realization slowly spread across his face.

"Oh." his mouth curled upwards. "She was right."

Dividers by: @\strangergraphics

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