Dedicated to Tomonori Kotokura, of Hiiro no Kakera 4, a.k.a. my fictional husband for over 7 years now and counting, and my smutty/cracky/romantic fanfiction about him and the other members of the OG Kifu gang (Shiki and Akifusa). Crossovers may also occur.
Has also become a blog for writing stuff in general. May also contain glimpses into my gaming habits and traces of oni activism (Momotaro is full of lies and Wood Omamori are a basic right).
late 20s | she/her | self-proclaimed brat | frequently horny for a fictional man
Link to My AO3 Works (most of them incomplete and unedited): https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueMiko/works
(Let me know if this link stops working, I think it's done that once or twice.)
General Warning, Blog Navigation (kind of), and Fanfiction Links
General Content Warning: Most of my writing, and this blog as a result, is NSFW. Sometimes I feel the adult content is prominent enough to warrant a Mature filter, but this isn’t always the case, and as for the tags (not hidden by the filter), well, all bets are off. (Generally I put the fandom and character tags first, so you’re less likely to run into mature tags if you don’t click the option to “See all”, but a few may slip through the cracks.)
I don’t always tag for specific kinks or taboo topics, so proceed with caution. All erotic content that I post or reblog is in written form, not visual, but I understand that still makes many people uncomfortable. If you are one of those people, you may want to reconsider reading further. Take care of yourself. <3
Fanfiction
Heed the tags for content warnings. If you come across something you think I should warn for that I haven’t, I deeply apologize; please let me know so I can add appropriate tags or warnings for others. Also, let me know if any of the links don’t work. Hope you enjoy :)
Aki After Tentacles (the forced gender-swap fic) (sex-swap? tits’n’vulvafication? one of those things, excuse my crudeness)
Blindfold-Bondage Threesome (unfinished)
Brat Game (Part One)
AO3 Fics
[Note: These fics came from my early days of writing about the Kifu gang— even the one I posted most recently— and I don’t think they’re very good for several reasons. If you decide to read them anyway, heed the tags.]
Role Reversal (Shiki and Tomo roleplay a scenario where Shiki is Tomo’s servant)
Taming of the Ox (Tomo x Aki— be warned that Tomonori is OOC and kind of a prick in this (more than I write him now)
Black and White and Red all Over (Shiki and Tomo play Go and it gets out of hand in a sexy way)
Truth or Dare: Summer Festival Edition (exactly what it says on the tin; even though I uploaded this one most recently, don’t be fooled, I wrote it ages ago, I just wanted to post something I wrote earlier to feel more productive as a writer, but now it’s out there and I’m not taking it down)
Headcanons, Brainstorming, Charts, and Notable Blorbo Question Responses that Got Out of Hand
The moment of blorbo-ization
Stranger: “My marriage is over. I told my wife about us.”
The answer is yes. Yes, this man is depressed.
(NSFW) Crying during/after sex
Meeting his own clone
(NSFW) Roles in bed
Abandoned puppy in basket
(NSFW) Deepthroating
(NSFW) Degradation kink
(NSFW) Do they swallow?
Guide to deciphering Tomonori’s moods based on how he’s acting toward Akifusa
Last-minute gifts
Tomonori for president 2028
Analysis (possibly biased) of how Tomonori would do in each game in Squid Game, which I have never watched but now know more about than I did before
(NSFW) Cock-gag-cock threesome scenario
What would happen if I tried to pat Tomonori's head?
Tomonori, my favorite morally gray vizier
"Bet you $20 you wouldn't kiss him"
Rolling around in a flower patch
Tomonori loves being seen as the villain
Cooking
"YOU KILLED SOMEONE?!?!?!"
Pokémon types (I'm most confident about Akifusa's)
Tomonori would rock that short skirt and long jacket though
If Tomonori had social media
You can draw whiskers on him but that's as far as he'll go (no, wait-- checks notes for the brat game fic-- he'll still punish you)
Shiki and Tomo did not have happy childhoods
Tramp stamps
(sorta NSFW) Wait, what do you mean I'm the only one?
”I want to think about my blorbo instead of whatever I should be doing” chart
OT3 Get to Know My Ship Template (Part 1, unsure if I’ll do Part 2)
Scarlet Fate character alignment charts
Wild West AU Idea (inspired by poll)
Brothel Fanfic Idea(s)
Lava cage BDSM?
Gushing post about my crossover modern college AU (Tomonori x Akifusa x Shinra from Enchanted in the Moonlight)
Gushing Parts 2 and 3 (comparison to Grendel) (bonus: cute screenshot of Akifusa being awkwardly candid)
Other Fan Stuff
The Three Stages of every Tomo x Aki NSFW scene I’ve ever written
I find this piece of Tomo x Shiki fan art really hot (I did not make it)
Tomonori’s canon and semi-canon punishments
Look at this man, he’s so pretty <3 (not the big red shirtless one, that's the Sword in god form)
Pouty Tomo! (not the first pouting man, that's someone from Squid Game)
Sixth Tomoversary post (2024)
“Many dumb fictional men”, including Akifusa
I could see Akifusa saying this (about love)
(NSFW) Furutsugu does not deserve happiness (I go crazy in the tags)
Fanfic research meme (and I vent in the tags)
Flustering Tomonori, intentionally and otherwise
Non-Fanfic (or Fanfic-Adjacent) Stuff
My mixed feelings about not proofreading my fics
Facing my judgmental 12-year-old self
Thoughts on various AO3 tags
(semi-NSFW) My thoughts on virgins writing smut (TLDR: go for it bby)
Half-serious proposal: music tempo words for speed of burn(s)
"Snock"
Describing myself in eleven images (well, "images") - scroll all the way down
Overanalyzing hypothetical fanfics about me based on three (or four) tags
Taking all 3 items
Tomonori helps me get my life in gear
Important MtG rules clarification
Good smut advice (well, sometimes) (depending on the scene and the vibe) (sometimes it’s better to just write “cock” and stop worrying over whether you’re overusing it)
Non-OT3 poly vs. OT3 (Shikitomofusa falls somewhere in the middle for me, but for convenience's sake I still use the term OT3)
Top/bottom vs. Dom/sub
Personal Makeshift Thesaurus (by personal I just mean I focus on words/areas I often need synonyms for; feel free to use)
Sex, Attraction, & Pleasure Metaphor Categories
Prepping to write another impromptu M/M sex scene without lube because Tomonori^2 got horny Akifusa just had to be a stupid sexy subby freak of a toy soldier in the shrine baths again
you might get a new exiting idea every day and start planning it, promising yourself “this is the one im going to finish” but still ending up abandoning it for another one by next week because it either stopped being exiting or you ran into an issue which convinced you its too difficult or just wrong
you can fix this by reflecting and using your revelations to choose the right project
what do you like? what do you like reading about? what do you like writing about? what do you know a lot about? what are you good at writing about?
accept that there may be ideas you like as concepts, maybe you’d like reading them but not writing it into a book yourself.
is there an idea/theme/anything you’ve had in mind for a long time and havent abandoned? why is that different? list things you’ve liked for a long time. doesnt even have to be writing related
there are many new exiting things to put your focus on for a week or maybe even month but if you truly want to be consistent, its time to look at what you’re able to be consistent about
at what point do you usually abandon projects? why? whats the furthest youve gotten? what got you there?
its really important to understand the reason behind abandoning your previous projects to do your best avoiding that in the future
whats your favourite part of the writing process? which one do you struggle with the most? which part do you simply dislike? is it possible that maybe you only like the idea of writing a book or having written a book? why do you want to be a writer
when choosing a project, consider how much you’d get to do the parts you like about writing and how much you’d have to face the parts you dont
what do you usually do when faced with a hardship during the writing process? what could you do better? if someone came to you and told you all of these problems, what advice would you give them? do you think you give up too easily? what makes you give up exactly (a feeling, a thought, a mindset, a trait, etc)? what would happen if you never changed any of this? would you even finish a book ever?
the writing process isnt easy. there isnt a single author that didnt go through writers block or a plot hole that seeemed impossible to solve at the time. this is why its inportant to have the right project that is worth fighting those hardships for while enjoying the journey
try to understand the difference between something not being right for you and something simply being difficult at the time
is this project you?
is this the project you’d like to be known for?
why this project? what does it mean to you? what do you like about it?
is this the project you see yourself writing about, every step of the way? it could be helpful to make a list of everything you’d need to do in order to finish this specific project—researching a specific topic needed for the worldbuilding, coming up with all the characters, etc
which parts of this book would you enjoy writing about? which parts would you not? is it worth it?
if you find that this project isnt right, revisit the first reflection list you made and choose some key elements you’d like to include in your books, be known for, and write about. revisit your book ideas and put together a book idea that includes these elements and do reflection on that one too
whenever you feel like giving up, ask why. is it because you no longer like the project or is it just difficult? why? maybe the problem is not the project but what it has become? try going back to the very start and core of the idea and seeing when it turned into what it has become? if this is true and you realise you dont like your project anymore, go back and change the entire thing. its totally okay and happens to writers all the time. this isnt wasted effort, this is you discovering yourself as a writer and what you want your project to be. its never too late to change up everything about your project.
to solve this, make a mindmap of every possible path your story could take. write down everything and choose 2-3 you like most. then write them all down separately and reflect on which one would be the best. list the pros and cons of each one. remember: reflection is so important in every step of the way
before giving up
lets say you found yourself stuck again. everything seems difficult and you want to give up. remember that you’ve come so far. remember that its okay. and remember how many times this has happened in the past. you’ll most likely run into this moment with every single project and multiple times at that.
do all of those same steps again. reflect. change it up.
what exactly is the problem and how could it be fixed? (yes, it can be fixed but you might be looking at the problem the wrong way. you need a fresh perspective)
if you still feel like giving up, tell yourself “i can give up if i still want to after this step”
let go of all pressure and think of whatever you’re stuck on. maybe its a plot hole, maybe you cant figure out what should happen next, maybe your characters arent working with you how you want them to. now, without any pressure (just let go, maybe take a break, meditate) just think of the stupidest solutions. think of this project as something that barely matters to you. like it belongs to your friend you’re giving advice to.
i was totally stuck on where i wanted my book to go because no matter what i chose, there was an impossible plot hole i had to solve. that was until i let go of all the pressure and a totally unexpected solution just found me. something id never have come up with if i kept on cracking my brains to the point of hating writing, myself as a writer, the project itself, and everything else for that matter. i took a break, i looked over what i had with a fresh perspective and the starting idea it all sparked from. i realised that i could just switch up some things that i never even thought i could change because they were part of the starting point of the idea. i did what i feared would ruin the entire idea but in reality, it saved the entire book.
remember youre not alone, there have been millions of authors feeling the same way you do now. and you can use that to your advantage. look for other peoples stories and advice. look at interviews of (your favourite) authors (or artists in general), look for tips, reflect on everything, learn through trial, error, and reflection
and if none of this works, try writing short stories or essays
Adding 4 copies of "...The Harder They Fall" to my short guy tribal deck for Fictional Hot Guy TCG (it's an equippable character ability that does extra damage to any opponents' characters based on how much taller they are)
Also in the deck:
2x Danger! Limbo (board-wipe for all but the shortest character on the field)
3x Escape through a Small Tunnel
4x Tomonori Kotokura (a no-brainer inclusion, arguably the lynchpin of the deck, main source of card advantage)
4x Akifusa Oki (Tomo can't be attacked as long as he's in play, and he provides a bonus to Tomo's attacks) (plus he's 5'6", which is still short enough to get some value from "...The Harder They Fall" in certain matchups)
2x Shinra (another 5'6" guy who has good stats for his cost and provides Electric damage; also has some synergy with Akifusa since Aki counts as an Oni once he flips to his Tokoyo-gami side)
If your first Blorbo and your current Blorbo met, would they get along?
Yes
No
My first Blorbo and my current Blorbo are the same character
Voting ended onAug 5
Every poll on this blog is about fictional characters only. This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds
This one’s tricky because they’d have to jump through quite a few hoops to get there (language barrier, bigger language barrier, species barrier, geographic barrier, time travel), but once all is accounted for: tentative yes? First blorbo’s characterization varied heavily depending on the season and episode of her show, and I can see a few of her habits annoying current blorbo greatly, but she’s also (generally) one of the more reasonable characters of her show (like Tomonori), and both characters are amiable enough overall and respectful enough of foreign cultures that I feel it would go okay. I don’t think they’d be besties by any means (they have no shared interests), but they’d get along. Maybe. At least long enough for a pleasant cup of tea / conversation.
…Okay, after thinking about it I’ve revised my answer. One or two pleasant conversations, but probably not an extended friendship.
…Then again, Tomonori gets along really well with people who are very different from him sometimes. Even ones he finds annoying. GODDAMMIT I KEEP FLIP-FLOPPING
In other news, I've been questioning whether I'm getting worse as a smut writer. (who am I kidding, that's not news, and it might be easily cured by a good night's sleep, but in this moment it feels very real)
I confess, part of the reason I started playing DCSS is because I saw a post about those Dungeon Crawler Carl books, the first of which I am struggling to get through because the story is fine (even mildly interesting at parts), but the writing makes me feel like I'm chewing through cardboard. It's not the worst-written piece of fiction in the world, but it's not a pleasant experience by any means. (Your mileage may vary.)
Anyway, skip forward a month or two after I got that book, and there's a discussion on the Discord server I'm on about roguelikes and how the term has evolved. (I am naturally participating in the discussion, like the nerd I am.) Afterward, I pull up a Wikipedia article for a list of roguelikes (they need to add Shadowed to that list, but it's decently long-- they even have Brogue!), because I remembered vaguely that there was one with soup in the name but couldn't recall what it was for the life of me.
It was DCSS. I discovered DCSS was free to download, did so, and began playing it.
It's fun so far. I haven't won yet, which is probably to be expected since I just started a week ago. My favorite species so far, of the ones I've played, are probably Deep Elf, Oni, and Kobold, but I haven't played most of them, or else I've only played them once or twice and died early. I keep trying to make Merfolk, and it keeps going poorly.
I confess, part of the reason I started playing DCSS is because I saw a post about those Dungeon Crawler Carl books, the first of which I am struggling to get through because the story is fine (even mildly interesting at parts), but the writing makes me feel like I'm chewing through cardboard. It's not the worst-written piece of fiction in the world, but it's not a pleasant experience by any means. (Your mileage may vary.)
Anyway, skip forward a month or two after I got that book, and there's a discussion on the Discord server I'm on about roguelikes and how the term has evolved. (I am naturally participating in the discussion, like the nerd I am.) Afterward, I pull up a Wikipedia article for a list of roguelikes (they need to add Shadowed to that list, but it's decently long-- they even have Brogue!), because I remembered vaguely that there was one with soup in the name but couldn't recall what it was for the life of me.
It was DCSS. I discovered DCSS was free to download, did so, and began playing it.
It's fun so far. I haven't won yet, which is probably to be expected since I just started a week ago. My favorite species so far, of the ones I've played, are probably Deep Elf, Oni, and Kobold, but I haven't played most of them, or else I've only played them once or twice and died early. I keep trying to make Merfolk, and it keeps going poorly.
(Don't be alarmed by the recent post. I haven't stopped writing smut; I just restarted about three times and then decided I needed a break for a few days. Today was my first day returning to the grind-- pun intended-- and I think it went okay.)
Something I've noticed about certain Rogue-likes** that I understand and appreciate but usually wind up flagrantly violating and having a great time: complexity or difficulty ratings for classes / species.
You know, how usually they'll have one basic "newbie-friendly" class that normally does a lot of damage and has a lot of HP, and that's usually its whole thing. Survivability. There's usually a note within the game (i.e. on the character creation screen) suggesting that new players should try this basic class a few times before dipping their toes into deeper (read: more fun) waters.
Or sometimes there'll be classes flagged for the opposite, "complicated and not recommended for beginners". (Those I generally treat with more respect, though it depends a little on how they're worded.)
Look. I appreciate game devs putting up signposts that roughly indicate to the player how complex or wacky they can probably expect a class to be. It shows that they care, and that's nice. But there's some buried spark of defiance in me that flares when I read the words "recommended for beginners" and makes me promptly want to do the opposite.
(Okay, it's not really that buried. I like being a contrarian sometimes. Often. Most of the time when I'm not dealing with someone face-to-face, in fact, which causes my confidence to shrivel.)
...also, I like when I get to be (a) a spellcasting rogue, (b) a frail bookworm (also usu. casting spells), or (c) an oni.
(Did you know you can be an oni in Dungeon Crawl Stone Soup? You can. I should have played this game much sooner. You can also be a kobold and come out of the womb backstabbing. Metaphorically.)
**Games that actually bear some semblance to Rogue. I'm experimenting with what I call them; "traditional roguelikes" just feels kinda cringe to me.
I think I've officially hit the burnout phase after five days of near-nonstop writing. Or maybe not. I spent an hour or two and 1000+ words today adding to my "mindbreak and dreams OOC porn" brainstorming doc (and eventually reaping the rewards), so maybe my brain just needed a break from the Tomonori^2 story in particular.
And the woman said, The serpent
beguiled me, and I did eat.
-- Genesis 3:13
Beguiled, my ass. I said no such thing.
You say I lost the gift of Paradise.
I couldn’t lose what I never had.
You say the serpent tempted me to eat.
You omit that he entered the Garden
on two legs and walked like a man.
And here’s what your story always ignores:
I had pure gold, rare perfume, precious stones,
but Adam hadn’t touched me all those years.
Perfection in the Garden didn’t mean that way.
Not having it and not wanting it
was God’s idea of perfection, not mine.
So when that serpent strolled up to the tree,
all upright and fine, he threw off the balance,
and I began to pray, Oh, let him be mine.
When he held out the apple, so round and lush,
when he stroked it to a keen red glow,
I didn’t fall to temptation -- I rose to it.
I ate that apple because I was hungry.
I wanted what lay outside of Paradise,
a world without the burden of perfection.
Now you call all sinful women my sisters.
I say, let them claim their own damn sins.
The apple may not be perfect, but it’s mine.
[It's been a hot minute since I shared any of this fic, and it's my current hyper-fixation with which I currently have no one to share, so I figured I might as well post the continuation into the void. Rating: still SFW, but with a few kisses. The second scene is also unfinished, and things will probably get steamy after that.
Link to the last posts where I shared the start of this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/waifuoftomonori/803466592392527872/next-scene-for-the-tomo-squared-fic-we-get-a?source=share]
Akifusa had just broken two hundred sword reps when Tomonori stepped through the doors of Toshi Temple and said, “I’ve changed my mind.”
“On what?”
“I want you to help me with a training routine.”
Akifusa’s jaw fell open. “Seriously?!” Just yesterday, Tomonori had compared working out with him to torture!
Tomonori shrugged. His eyebrows pinched, but he didn’t take it back. He was really entrusting Akifusa with this responsibility. He wanted to be training partners?
This was the best day of Akifusa's life! (Well, among the top ten, anyway.)
A wide, incredulous grin broke across his face. “I would be honored, Tomonori! On my name as Oki no Akifusa— no, on my sword, I swear I won’t let you down!”
“Don’t worry about that. My expectations are so abysmal, it would be nearly impossible to disappoint me, though I’m sure you could find a way. Anyway, here’s my proposed regimen.” Tomonori walked over, withdrawing a scroll from his kimono.
Something felt different about Tomonori today. There was his mysterious new interest in exercise, obviously, but besides that, his steps were quicker and smoother than usual; his eyes glittered, keen as his dual shortswords, with an unusual vivacity as he pressed the schedule into Akifusa’s hands.
Maybe he was just really excited to start training. It would be good for him. Akifusa always felt better after a good workout got his blood pumping, and Tomonori could definitely use the mood boost.
He shook it off and opened the scroll. “Uh, Tomonori?”
“Yes?”
“What do you mean by ‘finger exercises’, and why do you want to do so many of them?”
“Why do you think?” Tomonori asked. “I want faster fingers. I’ll leave the specific exercises up to you. This is your field of expertise, is it not?”
“Well, yes,” Akifusa admitted. “Sort of.” Finger exercises weren’t really part of Kifu’s standard military training routine.
“And my fingers have muscles that can be strengthened through exercise like any others?”
“I suppose. But— you want to spend a third of your training time working on getting faster fingers? Are you sure?”
“No. That’s why I wanted your advice.” Tomonori shot him an exasperated pout, but the strangely sharp gleam in his eye didn’t fade. “What do you recommend?”
This might be the first time he’d asked for Akifusa’s advice in (apparently) good faith in years. Akifusa felt vaguely dizzy.
“Are you just going to stand there and gawk, or do you have anything remotely useful to say?”
That sounded more like the Tomonori he knew. Akifusa quickly closed his gaping mouth and nodded. “Yes! I-I do! Well, maybe. I’ve never heard of finger exercises before, but what you’re saying makes sense. I bet we can come up with something. You’ll have the strongest, fastest fingers in all of Kifu!”
“My life’s dream,” Tomonori said dryly. “What about the rest?”
“Well, you're trying to do a lot of exercises in a pretty short chunk of time,” Akifusa said, scanning the parchment again. “You could break them up into a few different days, maybe. How did you get these numbers, anyway? And are you really going to time them to the quarter-minute?"
“Yes,” Tomonori said. “I estimated the times based on the relative importance of each."
It was kind of endearing that Tomonori wasn’t an expert in this one area, honestly. Akifusa cracked a grin. “It doesn’t really work like that, Tomonori. You won’t make much progress if you only do a thing for two minutes at a time, once a day."
Tomonori listened attentively as Akifusa shared every relevant tip he could think of, occasionally interrupting to ask a question, nodding for him to go on when he paused. It was a little weird how much he was listening. Nice for a change, but weird. He’d never shown any interest in working out beyond simple stretches before.
“Why do you suddenly care about this stuff, anyway?” Akifusa eventually asked.
“It’s not that I care, exactly.” Tomonori looked away, then sighed. “Shiki will be mad if I don’t tell you this, I suppose.”
“Tell me what?”
“I drank more of Kodonomae’s sake, and I’d like to test whether it enhances my physical training as it did yours. To a controlled degree.”
“What?!” This had to be a joke. It was a joke, right?
Tomonori grimaced. If it was a joke, he was really committing to it.
“But you seem fine! And you said you didn’t want to be a wall of muscle!”
“I don’t,” Tomonori said, brow furrowing. “That’s why I had hoped to limit my daily training time to half an hour, given how rapidly it affected your body over five days. But given your advice, I'll try to focus on the most important muscle groups—"
“That’s not the important part!” When Akifusa had talked to Tomonori yesterday, he’d seemed normal. Now… well, to be honest, the only change Akifusa noticed was this strange fixation on workout routines, but somehow that wasn’t much comfort. That was exactly how it had started for him. “Where’s the Princess? We need to do the ritual to get you back to normal right now!” He rushed to the weapon racks to put the bokken back.
“Shiki’s in our room, relaxing,” Tomonori said, exasperation lining his voice. “Calm down.”
Akifusa turned. He hadn’t budged from the center of the room. “But…”
“You can perform the ritual tomorrow, or the day after. We have all the supplies. Now that we know how it works, curing me should be simple.”
“You… don’t want to be cured right away?”
Tomonori shook his head. “I accomplished more paperwork last night than I normally would in a month, and I feel more energetic now than I have in a long time. I haven’t noticed any ill effects, have you?”
“No,” Akifusa admitted.
“Then I see no reason to end this experiment early. I’m paying attention to my physical and mental state. I’m not stupid. At the first hint of anything amiss, I’ll let Shiki know at once.” His tranquil expression didn’t waver, but neither did that familiar stubborn tilt of his jaw. Usually Tomonori was pretty reasonable, but when he'd set his mind on doing something, only one person stood a chance at talking him out of it.
“So… is the Princess okay with this?” Akifusa asked tentatively— and froze as two warm, brush-callused palms engulfed his cheeks, angling his face downward. Crimson irises dominated his vision. “T-Tomo—”
“Don’t worry about Shiki,” Tomonori said, squeezing him softly. “I wouldn’t go through with this if she had any serious objections. You know that.”
Wide-eyed, Akifusa nodded. Those blood-red pools drew closer, sucking him in.
“Besides, I don’t believe it’s your place to pry into our private relationship, Akifusa,” Tomonori said, mouth flickering. “In fact, it’s highly rude. You owe me an apology.” The smoky scent of incense tickled Akifusa’s nose, wrecking his thoughts.
“Apology not accepted. Do you seriously expect me to believe that without proof?” Tomonori clicked his tongue, slow and mocking, before his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. It shimmered, plush and tempting. “If you’re truly sorry, then quit apologizing and make it up to me, dimwit.” A final, meaningful squeeze was all the encouragement Akifusa needed.
He rested his hands on Tomonori’s shoulders and leaned in to steal a quick, nervous peck. Bangs feathered across his forehead.
“Is that the best you can do?” Tomonori murmured.
Akifusa hesitated. “It’s the middle of the day… Anyone could walk in and see—”
His protest was silenced by the warmth of Tomonori’s lips crashing against his, claiming him with unprecedented ferocity. The remains of his willpower dissolved on that deft, irresistible tongue. All he could do was gasp and cling to Tomonori’s shoulders, gripping hard enough to feel lean muscle tighten through several layers of kimono while Tomonori indulged him with gentle nibbles and languid licks, spiraling ever deeper until Akifusa’s lips helplessly supplied answers. Dizzily, he sank forward, surrendering all control— and Tomonori broke away with a ragged laugh, pressing a finger to his expectantly gaping lips.
“That’s how you apologize, Akifusa. Try to remember for next time.”
Every nerve in his body tingled with temptation, mouth still warm from the aftershocks. “O-okay,” he finally managed.
“Good boy. Don’t worry about the sake. I have everything under control. You trust me, don’t you, Akifusa?”
“Well, now that you’re asking, I’m not sure—” Tomonori raised his eyebrows, and Akifusa relented. “Yes. I trust you. But I’m—”
The finger returned to his lips. “That’s enough,” Tomonori said calmly. “Shut up, or I’ll silence you by force.”
Did he mean with another kiss or with murder? Better not to risk it. Akifusa swallowed the question and nodded.
Another pat on the cheek. “I’ll be back in the afternoon, with a revised training schedule for you to inspect. For once, your insights may actually prove useful.”
***
“Where do you think you’re going?” Tomonori asked mildly.
Shiki jumped, spinning toward his voice with scroll in hand. He studied her from the doorway, a smile tickling his lips. “You need to stop sneaking up on people,” she said, fighting to tame her madly pounding pulse.
“I apologize.” With a modest bow, he entered and turned to shut the door. She exhaled. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said over his shoulder, soft tenor rimmed with wry nonchalance. “Were you planning to slip away without giving me a chance to atone?”
She winced, replacing the rolled-up irrigation plans on his desk. She still wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him for seeking out more of that damned sake.
Then again, if the substance were truly that addictive, perhaps he hadn’t made the choice consciously, of his own free will. He still seemed much the same as usual— still fundamentally Tomonori, hard-working and quick-witted, devoted to her happiness— but how long would that last?
“Shiki.” His voice was soft, closer than before. She looked up. The mischief had vanished from his features, brows drawn tight— such a sweet, familiar expression it wrenched at her gut. He took her hand, fingers slotting into the gaps. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first.”
Tightness swelled in her throat; she swallowed hard, staring into those beautiful, tender crimson eyes. “I would have said no. Just to be clear.” She couldn’t bring herself to release him.
He squeezed once by way of reply, an encouraging gesture, giving her room to spill her thoughts into the silence.
“I love you, Tomonori. I don’t want to see you become something you’re not, just for the sake of an experiment. Especially not for that. We don’t know what the sake will do to you, physically or mentally, if you keep drinking it. You didn’t sleep last night— what if that continues? Everyone needs sleep. And all of the work you accomplished… it worries me.”
He frowned. “Was there anything I failed to account for in my plans?”
“No. The quality isn’t the point.” If anything, the lack of errors she found in his logic and calculations added to her unease. There was no trace of fatigue setting in as the night wore on, no dangling thoughts he forgot to carry to a conclusion. Even the poems evoked poignant images, succinct portraits of his love for her, as eloquent as they were heartfelt. Even now, his face bore no dark rings or unhealthy pallor.
Magic could achieve those results, but for a price. Often, it simply wasn’t worth it.
“I’m worried about you,” she said.
Tomonori stared at her, pupils contracting. His lips parted— only to close a moment later, curving in a rueful smile. “Thank you. It’s nice to be reminded that you care.”
She wanted to scream. Once again, he’d missed her message entirely. Was the sake finally degrading his powers of comprehension as it had Akifusa’s? Or was he deliberately sidestepping the issue, hoping to distract her and avoid accountability?
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, smile slipping. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your concerns.” Those sharp eyes darted over her expression as if tracking every flicker.
Her irritation subsided. Raising her eyebrows, she nodded at him to continue.
Tomonori sighed. His thumb traveled down the back of her hand and rubbed small, soothing circles as he spoke. “I noticed the same things. I’m worried, too. And then there’s the possibility that Furutsugu knew it would affect me this way and plans to exploit the situation somehow."
Silence hung. “But…?” she prompted.
His mouth twisted into an apologetic grimace. “For now, there doesn’t seem to be any downside. Even if Furutsugu is scheming something, I feel more capable than ever of figuring out his objective and putting a stop to it.
“Not to mention my increased focus, energy, perception, and productivity.” He ticked them off on the fingers of his free hand, face suddenly aglow. “Of course, we should watch carefully for any further changes. We can perform the ritual at the first hint of anything amiss, but—”
“Tomorrow, at the latest,” she cut in, firmly. His enthusiasm regarding the whole thing only cemented her resolve to end it swiftly.
She loved Tomonori. How could she not? Part of her delighted in listening to him ramble about the sake’s benefits, as animated as when he discussed his favorite poems or childhood memories— and occasionally during playful bickering sessions, despite his struggle to remain stern and composed as he scolded her. His excitement was infectious. But unlike tanka, nostalgia, or bedroom banter, drinking mysterious magical sake— brewed by a clan of warrior gods with apparently infinite tolerance, going by Kodonomae’s example— posed an active risk to Tomonori’s health. Usually he was more responsible than this.
He hesitated before nodding. “Very well. Tomorrow.” His gaze flitted aside. “Provided you haven’t changed your—”
“Tomonori.” She twisted his chin sharply back to her, halting him mid-sentence. “I’m not going to change my mind. This is serious. Tomorrow morning, the moment we finish breakfast, we’re doing the cleansing ritual— assuming you don’t come to your senses first and ask me to perform it before then.”
His eyebrows jumped. “Shiki…” A familiar gleam flashed in his eye; despite herself, her breath caught. “You’re awfully stubborn, all of a sudden.” In another context, it might have been a reprimand, but here it carried the ring of a veiled challenge. An invitation.
Her cheeks flared, but she persisted. “I’m stubborn because I love you. Tomorrow morning. Please, Tomonori.”
He hummed slightly, pretending to consider it, but those blood-red eyes danced as they scoured her features. Pinned by his focus, she grew acutely aware of every ragged breath scampering from her lips, the lingering prickle of a blush at her cheeks, the fact that she hadn’t stopped staring at him since she’d tugged his chin in her direction—
“If we wait until after dinner,” he murmured, cradling her cheek in one large palm, “we can take our time with the ritual. We won’t have to worry about cleaning up and rushing off to work after.” His fingernail grazed the corner of her lips, and she shivered. “We’ll have the full night to ourselves.”
She inhaled sharply. The scents of ink and incense poured into her lungs— the hypnotic blend that clung to Tomonori, normally subtle enough to evade notice until within kissing range. Today it seemed more potent than usual. Another symptom of the sake, or was she imagining things, senses heightened by a desire he could doubtless read all over her face?
He leaned closer. She started to do the same— and, at the last moment, realized his ploy and pulled back with her best attempt at a glare. “This isn’t up for negotiation. You can’t just bribe me with sex.”
“I intended nothing of the sort,” he replied, but a tiny smirk dashed across his face. “I was merely pointing out the advantage of delaying the ritual until later in the day.”
“Thank you for bringing it to my attention,” she said, voice dripping with mockery. “The answer is still no. And honestly, the more you argue against it, the more I’m inclined to believe the sake is already changing you. The Tomonori I know, the man I married, would listen to the people who cared about him. Especially when they were hurt by his actions.”
Tomonori’s eyes widened, garnet irises swallowed by black. She stared back defiantly. Several long, silent moments crept past.
“You’re right,” he finally said, brow knitting. “I’ve hurt you terribly. I’m sorry.” His voice was soft but sincere.
Shiki eyed him suspiciously. “And you’ll cooperate with the cleansing ritual tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” The response came immediately. He stroked her cheek, as delicately as if handling a long-forgotten manuscript unearthed from the depths of the archives. Her heart fluttered, but his expression remained pure. “I betrayed your trust. Yours, and Akifusa’s. I acted selfishly, with no regard for your feelings or our wedding vows.”
“Well, yes,” she said, shifting her weight. Where was this going? “But, Tomonori—”
His mouth contorted with sorrow. “I’m a monster. You deserve someone better.”
Shiki stared at him, speechless. She hadn’t heard him express those insecurities since before they destroyed the Sword.
She almost wished he would break into a smirk and reveal it was all a twisted joke, or else stumble and expose manipulative intentions. She would be furious with him, but rage seemed preferable to the tug of painful memories in the back of her skull— of old wounds carefully bandaged, both his and hers, scarred but still fresh enough to sting.
He didn’t say anything. Nothing in his demeanor indicated deception.
“Tomonori,” she said again, gently, as if approaching a timid cat. “That’s not true.”
His grimace deepened. “You don’t need to comfort me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you do.” Doubt clouded his gaze. Shiki sighed, combing his bangs with her fingers. “It’s true, you shouldn’t have drank more of that sake without consulting me first. But from everything Akifusa and Kodonomae have said, it’s highly addictive, and you weren’t responsible for that first sip. That was Furutsugu’s doing. You didn’t even swallow.”
“But if I had paid more attention to his movements, or insisted Kodonomae take proper security measures—”
She tugged lightly on a scarlet strand. “Stop looking for reasons to blame yourself. Yes, you made a mistake. Yes, I’m frustrated with how this conversation has gone. But I understand you’re not fully yourself at the moment, and even if you were, I would probably forgive you. It’s all right.”
“No,” he said, stepping back. “It’s not.” Abject misery carved deep creases into his features. “You should leave me and marry Akifusa. He deserves better, too.”
“What? No, Tomonori, I don’t want—”
“Go. Fall in love. Be happy together. I’ve failed you in every way imaginable— as a friend, as a retainer, as a husband and lover. Even now, I’m selfishly burdening you with—” He halted, and then forced the least convincing smile she had ever seen. “My apologies, Shiki. Please don’t worry on my behalf.”
Panic bloomed. “But—”
“I had a momentary slip of the tongue. Everything is absolutely fine.”
“Tomo—”
“I was just reciting a passage from a book I read recently. A bit overwrought, don’t you think?”
She needed to distract him. Striding forward, Shiki grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed her mouth against his. He froze. She slowed, teeth catching softly on his bottom lip, awaiting a response.
In one firm, deliberate movement, Tomonori folded his hands into her waist and pulled her flush against him, returning the kiss with equal zeal. A brush of his tongue left her trembling; his embrace tightened to steady her as he pushed deeper, breaching her lips. She welcomed him with a sigh. Their mouths melded perfectly, hot breath mingling amid electric friction. Her head spun with that intoxicating fragrance of smoke and scrolls— and reeled even faster when Tomonori tipped her back, emitting a pleased hum before diving between her lips with renewed vigor.
She panted by the time he withdrew, cool air rushing to replace the sealed heat of their kiss.
“I see your point,” Tomonori murmured, breath teasing her still-sensitive lips.
“What?” Dizzy, she opened her eyes.
He smirked. “Akifusa’s kisses could never satisfy you after you’ve grown accustomed to mine. I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I, Shiki?”
A scandalized laugh escaped her. “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“Trust me, as someone who’s kissed him plenty of times by now: it’s hardly a boast. Objectively, he’s terrible. Absolutely no patience or delicacy.” He helped her upright but kept both arms around her waist, squeezing her to him all the more snugly. Apparently, letting her go was nowhere on his agenda.
“And yet that hasn’t stopped you from kissing him,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I said he’s objectively bad. There are other factors at play. But enough about Akifusa,” he said, just as she opened her mouth to inquire into these other factors. “Why were you trying to sneak out when I returned?”
She’d hoped he’d forgotten about that. With a sigh, she opted for the truth. “I was going to the fields, with your plan for the improved irrigation system. Since that’s the one task you left for me today.”
Tomonori blinked. “I didn’t mean you had to handle it this morning.”
“I wanted to. It’s part of my job, Tomonori. Besides, I was bored.”
“I told you I would come back shortly, and I returned within the hour.” His brow wrinkled, as if he were genuinely struggling to grasp why she might take issue with his actions.
“That’s not the point.” How could she explain it in a way this version of Tomonori would understand without triggering another wave of depression? “I appreciate that you were trying to lighten my workload,” she began carefully, “and in theory I’m not opposed to taking the occasional day off, but I’ve done nothing to earn it this time. It would feel wrong, like I’m taking advantage of your hard work. Besides, I like helping people in the village.”
Tomonori was quiet for a moment. “I understand,” he said softly. She started to relax. “But with all due respect, Shiki, that attitude is precisely why you need this day off. Honestly, you should take more, whenever you can afford it. You don’t need to feel guilty at all.”
“But—”
“No objections. Your request is denied,” he said calmly, squeezing her waist and fueling a helpless blush. Again, the temptation to surrender swelled.
She clung to threads of dignity. “You can’t just deny my request, Tomonori. As Princess Tamayori, I command you not to interfere with my work today.”
“Any retainer of sufficient rank may refuse to follow Princess Tamayori’s orders if there is reason to believe that doing so would endanger the Princess herself.” His eyes gleamed, crimson and captivating; laughter bubbled to the surface of his tenor. “My apologies, Princess, but you’ve developed unhealthy working habits. This is for your own good.”
Shiki shivered, static sizzling down to her core. Why couldn’t his composed, deceptively courteous authority be a little less attractive for once? Tomonori’s lips quirked as he watched her, vexingly smug. She itched to kiss away the smirk, or more likely kiss it wider, kiss the laughs from his throat, kiss hunger into his stare until he needed her just as badly.
“Well,” she managed, heart thumping, “if you won’t let me work today, you might as well provide me with entertainment.”
“I fully intend to,” he assured her, smile broadening, and herded her back to their still-unrolled futon.
[Good news: I wrote more and want to share from where I left off. Bad news: I still haven't finished the scene, so take more quasi-edging. :P
NSFW warning, though. We're getting somewhere. (I promise. Just be patient.)]
They kissed as he undressed her, barely breaking for breath, stripping her to her kosode with practiced precision. Long fingers traced her figure through the silk, unhurried, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before she melted for him, and he was quite content to prolong the foreplay until she naturally reached that boiling point.
A hand cupped her breast, thumb delicately circling the tip. At her gasp, he withdrew his mouth but nothing else. “Someone’s sensitive today,” he murmured.
“You’re the one who’s acting different. Usually you’re not so… assertive in the morning.”
“Does it turn you on?” He cocked an eyebrow, undeterred in his attentions.
“I just want you back to normal,” she said, stalling— hoping he couldn’t feel how her nipple stiffened through the cloth with every patient stroke.
Tomonori clicked his tongue like a disappointed tutor, feeding her blush. “Dodging the question? You know better than that, Princess.” He squeezed her breast once in warning; she struggled to keep a straight face. “Tell me the truth.”
“No.” He didn’t need any impetus to rethink his promise to do the ritual tomorrow. She didn’t know if she had the heart to guilt him into it again.
“You’re not aroused, or you don’t want to tell me the truth?”
“Both.”
Tomonori’s breath hitched. Twin flames ignited in his eyes, lighting his expression as if she’d just presented him with a platter of his favorite tsukemono. Belatedly, she realized her mistake.
“Not that I don't—”
“No need to explain.” He coughed, wicked smile slipping into a nearly-passable affected pout. “If I’ve failed to excite you, that responsibility falls entirely on my shoulders. You know I take my duties as your husband seriously.”
Her pulse quickened, tight and frantic. “Tomonori, really—”
“Shiki.” He released her chest to squeeze her palm between both hands, crimson eyes smoldering like stars. “Your lack of arousal is unacceptable to me. I insist you allow me to remedy this state of affairs at once.”
Evidently, Tomonori under the influence of mind-altering magical liquor shared sober Tomonori’s love for her petty rebellions, intentional or not. But since her other option was to give up and admit just how thrilling she found his new saké-fueled aggression, she might as well have some fun with it.
“You can try,” she said. “I wouldn’t count on it, though. You’ve been a bit lacking in your husbandly duties of late.”
His mouth twitched. “All the more reason to perform them properly now. Sit down.”
“Make m—”
A brisk tug downward made her stumble, but she maintained her footing and smiled sweetly at him. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Perhaps,” he said, brow scrunching as he let go of her hand. “For now. Akifusa agreed to help me train, so that may not remain the case for long. But I suppose you win this round, Princess. Congratulations.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Yes. It’s a shame.” His tranquil smile didn’t falter. “I had so many fun ideas to try, but now we’ll simply have to stand here and do nothing. You clearly don’t want me to continue, so I won’t.”
“Whatever happened to taking your duties as my husband seriously?”
“A good marriage isn’t founded on making one’s partner behave a certain way when she doesn’t want to. I’m disappointed to hear you have no interest at all in my efforts to arouse you—”
“I said you could try.”
“No interest at all,” he repeated calmly, eyes sparkling. “But I’ll live. At least Akifusa appreciates me. In the meantime, I encourage you to find a nice, strong, tall man who can fulfill your need to be yanked down to your knees and thoroughly brutalized to your satisfaction. I’m afraid that without your cooperation, I just can’t provide that.”
“Maybe I will,” she said cautiously, testing the waters.
“By all means, Princess.” Tomonori clasped his hands in front of him, pleasant smile expanding. “Remember to put your clothes back on before you leave.”
Shiki hesitated. Did he have a backup plan if she ignored her cue?
He might. Or he might not— which meant his true backup plan was to rely on her growing impatient or guilty or just too horny to take it anymore and eventually slink back with apologies and kisses and pleas for attention, humbling herself at his feet, until he finally took pity on her.
It was an annoyingly effective tactic. Usually she caved within an hour.
“Help me get dressed,” she said. “It’s the least you can do, since you’re the one who stripped me in the first place.”
Tomonori bowed. “Of course, Shiki. I would be honored. Since you find me so terribly unexciting, I’m sure there won’t be any issues.”
“Not at all.” Her heart pounded a reckless dance as he knelt to gather her discarded clothing. “You’re right. When it comes to my tastes in men,” she dared, “the bigger the better.”
Tomonori paused, lifting his head. “Bigger and dumber?”
“Now that you mention it… yes.”
“I understand. In fact, I agree completely.” He smiled as he rose, the next layer of her juban folded over his arm. “There’s nothing quite like the thrill of toying with a giant, muscle-bound idiot until he forgets his own name. Sometimes I wish we could have kept Akifusa like that a little longer.” He stopped a few inches before her. “I’ll take your blush as a sign you agree.”
“Um. Yes.” She struggled mightily to banish the images of Tomonori taunting Doman in the capital, smirking serenely, entirely unruffled in the shadow of this irate bearded monk twice his size with biceps rivaling mountains, manipulating him like a puppet—
“Hold out your arms,” Tomonori said softly. “Since I’m too weak to move them myself.”
She obeyed automatically. The opportunity for resistance didn’t even occur to her until he murmured, “Good girl, Shiki,” and finished slipping on the sleeves, kindling an even hotter flush in her cheeks.
“That’s not exactly why I want a bigger man,” she said, somewhat desperate as he circled behind her. She needed to regain lost ground.
“No?” Tomonori wrapped the rope around her waist, tugging her back into his torso. His scent tickled her nose, briefly throwing off her train of thought. “Why do you want one?”
Shiki took a deep breath (and nearly lost focus again). “For the reasons you gave earlier. I want a man who’s strong enough to— to make me submit.”
“Of course. Forgive me for forgetting that physical strength is the only quality you can respect in a man.” He paused, grasping the ends of the knot he’d just tied; his voice softened, dangerously gentle. “Let me know if I’m pulling too tight.”
Her eyes widened. “Tomonori, please…”
He didn’t pull. Uncertainly, she trailed off— and squirmed when he leaned forward, warm breath skimming her earlobe.
“‘Please’ what, Shiki?” He tugged on the rope strands, light and playful.
Shiki snapped her mouth shut. Suddenly, she was boiling in her two layers of undergarments.
“Were you going to beg me to be gentle?” Tomonori pressed, unrelenting.
“No,” she lied.
“Of course not. That would be absurd.” A soft chuckle escaped him, puffing hot against her ear; she shivered. “After all, as we’ve established, I’m entirely too small, weak, and smart to fit your needs. Even if I pull as hard as I possibly can, you have nothing to fear.”
She hesitated. She trusted Tomonori unconditionally not to harm her, no matter what borderline threats he might make; Tomonori was ultimately kind, albeit with a taste for dark humor and a penchant for morbid remarks in certain moods. But could she trust this Tomonori not to get carried away?
His tone brightened. “I suppose I should tighten this knot. Three, two—”
“Please don’t pull too hard,” she blurted out, abandoning her pride. “Please, Tomonori? Please be gentle.”
A brief hush fell. The cord went slack, then slipped away. “Turn around,” he said quietly.
She complied. His lips parted as he studied her, garnet eyes softening like a sunrise blurred by morning mist. Tenderly, he cupped her face in long, brush-callused fingers— such a stark contrast from the roughness she’d anticipated mere moments ago, it sent a shockwave through her system. “I would never dream of hurting you,” he said, soft voice ringing with conviction. “You’re far too precious to me. Never doubt that.”
Shiki swallowed the lump that swelled in her throat, heart rate settling. “I know. I just thought, with the saké, maybe…”
He angled her head down to press warm lips against her brow. “Never.”
She nodded.
With a smile, he kissed her nose; mischief crept back into his features. “That said, you’re cute when you beg me for mercy. Were you truly that frightened?”
“I… forgot who I was talking to.”
“You called me by name,” he pointed out, squeezing her cheeks before bending in toward her neck.
“You can’t be the only ‘Tomonori’ in the world." It was a struggle not to squirm as his breath rippled against vulnerable skin.
“I’m not.” He dusted kisses light and fleeting as sakura petals along her jawline. “There’s a poet,” he murmured, words vibrating against her throat.
“Yes. I meant the poet.”
He paused, glancing up. “He died a hundred years ago. Try again, Princess.” Those supple lips curved before returning to their task.
“It’s very hard to think of other men when you kiss me like that.”
“Good.” His tongue lashed; she bit back a moan as he softened his approach, lapping at her jugular in smooth, persistent strokes. The aroma of parchment and sandalwood permeated the air, heavy enough to weaken her knees. She closed her eyes, swaying faintly.
Abruptly, he pulled away, exhaling against the spot his tongue had just ravished. “Is that gentle enough for you, Princess?”
Her eyes flew open. Tomonori stood back, smirking.
“You begged for me so sweetly, I couldn’t possibly refuse your request,” he said when she didn’t answer, still dazed by the loss of the slickness. “Or possibly for Ki no Tomonori, but since we share a first name and a love of poetry, I thought I would make an acceptable substitute until you master the art of necromancy.” His smile widened, lips glimmering ripe and wet from recent use.
Shiki was too stunned to laugh.
“My apologies for the interruption.” He leaned closer, draping his hands over her shoulders. Her eyes clung to his nearing mouth as if pulled by magnets, core pulsing with want. In the instant before they would kiss, he spun her around again. “I’ll finish tying you up nice and tight so you can find a beefy idiot to dominate you now.”
“No,” she blurted out, turning. “That’s not what I want.”
“No?” He tilted his head, the portrait of innocent curiosity spoiled only by the wicked gleam in his eye. “What do you want, Princess?”
Heat fanned across her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d surrendered this early in any of their games. As defeats went, this was humiliating. “You know what I want.”
“I’m afraid I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” Evidently, he wasn’t in a merciful mood, or perhaps that comment about wanting a bigger man to force her into submission had been one too many.
She sighed. “I want you. Obviously.”
He pursed his lips, corners twitching. “How is it obvious?”
“Well, you’re my husband.”
“And?” She must have grimaced, because he laughed: a discordantly light, boyish sound at odds with everything going on here. “I can’t let you off that easily, Princess. You know what you said. Our marital status was never in question.”
Her blush prickled deeper, scalding her ears. “I don’t prefer bigger men. Or taller ones.”
“Are you sure? You were quite insistent on that fact earlier. You don’t have to spare my ego, Shiki. It’s all right.”
Her heart jumped; she managed to steady her voice. “I’m sure. I want you, Tomonori.”
He stepped closer, crimson eyes locked keenly on hers, but his tone remained mild. “I’m not convinced. What was it you said, ‘the bigger the better when it comes to men’?”
“I lied. I’m sorry.”
“You lied? To your own husband?” Tomonori tsk’ed at her, shaking his head, but his mouth gave another telltale flicker.
“I know. I’m really sorry. You brought up the idea, and I… wanted to see what would happen if I played along.” She fought the impulse to bury her head in her hands. “How you’d prove me wrong, or maybe… punish me for lying?”
“Mm.” His shoulders twitched, plainly stifling laughter.
“You know I didn’t mean it, Tomonori,” she pushed when he didn’t elaborate. Her heart pounded like a runaway horse. “I love you just the way you are. I don’t see your height or size as downsides at all. In fact, I… I think you’re really sexy, this size.”
Face flaming, she broke off. There was something about being watched as she admitted it, observed calmly by those piercing blood-dagger eyes from mere steps away, under pressure to apologize and confess the truth.
“‘Sexy’?” he echoed, taking another tiny step closer. Their toes nearly touched. “Care to elaborate?”
“I love that when I turn to look at you, our eyes are immediately at the same level. You have beautiful eyes. I love looking into them.” Shiki took a deep breath and continued, trying not to breathe in too deeply for fear she’d swoon and never recover. “I love how our bodies fit together so perfectly. I love seeing you tease bigger men, or give them orders, and I love how they usually obey without a fight, because they know you’re right—”
“Strange. I thought intelligence was another turn-off for you.”
She shrank from his amused gaze. “No. I lied about that too.”
Tomonori nodded, smirk blooming before he composed his expression. “I suppose we’ll have to do something about this new habit of yours,” he said neutrally.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. But you will be.” He patted her shoulder, coaxing the embers in her cheeks to a wild inferno, before withdrawing with a chuckle. “Was everything you told me a lie?”
“Um. Until I said I wanted you, yes. Sorry.”
“You don’t think I’ve fallen behind in my ‘husbandly duties’?”
Biting her lip, she shook her head.
“Use your words,” he urged, mischief dancing in his eyes.
“No. You’ve been, um, satisfactory.”
“Only satisfactory?”
“Better.”
Her breath hitched when a finger slowly mapped the curve of her cheek, descending toward her mouth. “And it excites you when I’m aggressive?” he murmured.
Distantly, recollection tugged. Wasn’t that the question that had provoked her rebellion in the first place? His forwardness this morning seemed to stem, at least in part, from drinking that saké. The saké. He’d drank it without asking her—
Soft, reproving tongue-clicks snapped her focus back to Tomonori’s autumn-red eyes boring intently into hers, permitting no excuses. “Answer me, Princess. If you want me so badly, answer my questions— and honestly this time, please.”
“Of course I want you.”
“Then why are you hesitating?” He paused, sizing her up. “If aggression isn’t working for you, perhaps we should change tactics.” A slow, sneaky smile unfurled over his mouth. “Do you need more teasing, Shiki?”
Shivers coursed down her spine. She couldn't answer.
“I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, it would be my pleasure.” He traced the swell of her lower lip, inviting it to fall open, soft as a feather. “Nothing brings me more satisfaction than watching you crumble for me, however long that takes. If you’d like, we can pretend you never admitted to finding me attractive—”
“No. No more teasing. Please.” Her voice nearly cracked, raw and breathless.
“No?” He chuckled. “Why not? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Shiki winced. It wasn’t as if he could only act sexually assertive while under the saké’s spell. Maybe he wouldn’t even connect the two elements. “I like it when you’re aggressive, Tomonori,” she finally said.
“It turns you on?”
“Yes.”
“I see. So you lied to me about that as well.” Amusement coated each wry syllable.
“I’m sorry.”
“That brings your total up to four, Shiki. What am I going to do with you?”
Flushing, she dropped her gaze. Immediately, Tomonori nudged it back up, exposing her once again to the simmering heat of his stare. “I don’t think so. After all of your little fibs, you’re going to look me straight in the eyes from now on until I say otherwise.” His mouth twisted in a barely-concealed smirk as he tickled her under the chin. “Perhaps I can’t stop you from lying to me, but at least have the courtesy to look me in the face as you do it.”
Swallowing, she nodded. He retracted his finger and studied her for a moment.
“You want me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You think I’m sexy.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to be aggressive with you.”
“Yes.”
He hummed in mock contemplation. “I almost believe you, Shiki.”
“Almost?” What more could he possibly want to hear?
“There’s just one thing that bothers me.” Large hands wrapped around her waist, securing her at arm’s length while her heart thundered and thrashed. “You didn’t sit when I asked you.”
“Ordered me,” she said, almost automatically.
Tomonori furrowed his brow. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“You didn’t even say ‘please’. That’s not asking. You gave me an order.”
His lips quirked. “Are you implying that you would have listened if I’d worded it as a request?”
She hesitated.
“That’s what I thought. Why didn’t you listen?”
“I wanted you to make me,” she said quietly.
He rewarded her with a soft squeeze but kept her at a distance, red eyes relentlessly raking her face. “Which I then failed at. And you still refused to sit.” His calm demeanor didn’t fray, but an invisible current crackled between them as they held eye contact, raising the hairs on her arms.
“I… I’m sorry.” It was all she could think to say, speared by his attention like a fish.
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m not upset. Just be quiet and listen for a minute.” Another squeeze followed, playful but longer— laden with purpose, almost a threat.
She trembled harder but nodded.
“When you asked me to make you submit,” Tomonori said quietly, “I humored your request. I didn’t succeed, and I didn’t fully expect to, but I made an effort. First physically, and then with words. All I ask of you is the same basic respect.”
She hedged another nod.
“I’m not particularly strong, Shiki. I don’t have your skill in fighting. And physically, I can’t help holding back when it comes to you, because I could never forgive myself if I caused you more pain. I’m not ashamed of these traits. They’re simply true.”
“I know.”
The faintest wrinkle emerged in his brow, but his gaze didn’t waver. Nor did his tone, soothingly placid, as if explaining basic manners to a child. “If you’re going to ask things of me, I would advise you to consider my limitations. I am not a soldier. I don’t do heavy labor. My skills lie elsewhere. There’s only so much, physically, that I’m likely to achieve on my own, especially while you’re trying to resist me.
“That said, I’ll still attempt any reasonable request you make. Not only is it my duty, but I want to make you happy.” He squeezed her again, lightly. “Do you want me to make you happy, Shiki?” Her face warmed as she nodded. “And you’re sure you want me over any other man, including those who wouldn’t think twice about shoving you to your knees?” Another nod.
Tomonori smiled at last, pulling her forward into his chest with enough force to instantly cast doubt on his self-proclaimed physical helplessness. “Then you’ll need to learn to cooperate,” he said before kissing her sweetly.
When they separated, she started to sit, but he stopped her. “This needs to come off first,” he said, tugging on the sleeve of her still-untied outer juban. “Arms out.”
Shiki extended them, earning a warm smile as he peeled off the garment. He was making it very difficult to justify disobedience, saké or no saké.
“You’re unusually quiet,” he said, as if reading her mind. Startled, she met his eyes; he smiled innocently, stroking the veins of her inner wrist. “Don’t tell me you’re not entertained.”
“What if I did?”
“I’d have to mark down another penalty for lying.” Meaningfully, he tapped her fluttering pulse before loosening the sash of her kosode. She shivered as cool air seeped down the center of her chest.
“Is that supposed to discourage me?” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Sit down, Shiki.”
She complied, watching as he undressed. His hands moved at a leisurely pace, pausing whenever her gaze lingered on an area. She couldn’t help it. He was too beautiful not to admire: gracefully compact, with little hair to obscure his finely-etched lean muscle or silken, unblemished skin.
