Chapter Text
Takahashi Akira: that was the name of Keiji’s fianc é and soon-to-be-husband. Koutarou discovered this and much more after days of interrogating an unwilling Konoha. The chef had begrudgingly been sent in Keiji’s place to demand Koutarou leave after she continued to show up to the garden. Keiji had been refusing to see her since that day.
Back at home, Koutarou buried her face in the wool of the closest sheep and wailed, “He’s rich! ”
“And handsome,” Shoyo chirped unhelpfully.
Atsumu chimed in next, “And not cursed.”
“Both of you, shut up.” Per usual, Atsumu’s collective responded negatively to any reprimand from Kiyoomi, hissing wildly and letting some of the smaller snakes tangle with hers. Shoyo’s just wilted.
The sheep Koutarou was nuzzled up to bleated like it agreed with Kiyoomi.
Koutarou sank to the floor dramatically. When the sheep came with her, she propped her chin on its back.
The situation was entirely hopeless. Keiji’s parents had married her off to some duke a few towns over. Her parents knew Keiji’s dowry would be worth a pretty penny, but were unwilling to let just anyone marry her. Konoha, in his attempt to assuage Koutarou’s worries, insisted that they’d spent years handpicking the perfect husband. On one hand, Koutarou was relieved to hear they hadn’t rushed the search or treated Keiji like a burden to be rid of. On the other hand, he was fucking perfect??
With no small amount of discomfort, Konoha had told Koutarou anything and everything he knew. Takahashi was a prolific writer and academic, who, though several years older than them, had denied all marital offers over the years. Keiji’s parents’ was the first he’d ever accepted. He apparently had done so with much enthusiasm after their first meeting when Keiji beat him at a game of chess.
“Who wouldn’t?” Osamu said after Konoha finished.“ O’course he’d wanna marry her.” Koutarou just sobbed.
“ I wanna marry her!” It sounded petulant, like a child fighting over her favorite doll. Konoha chuckled uncomfortably.
“I don’t even think that’s legal, Koutarou-kun,” he’d mumbled under his breath as Koutarou’s snivels grew louder. A few snakes nipped him for that one.
-
Life without Keiji was hell. It felt like the sun had finally shone after a lifetime of rain, only to have it taken away from her and leave a thunderstorm in its wake. Koutarou quickly came to realize that for every second you spend with someone, there’s another thousand spent aching when you lose them. Koutarou would’ve done it all again, if it meant seeing Keiji’s face one more time.
Every morning was the same-- a routine she had once found comfort in, but could no longer: wake up; feed herself and the snakes; care for her sheep; and a new part-- cry.
Most often, she’d curl up beneath the old willow by her cabin for the final step. She’d sob until her head hurt and her lungs threatened to cave-- until her eyes burned and loud cries turned into pathetic hiccups. It was a futile balm for the gaping wound Keiji left behind.
Her collectives tried everything. Tough love, bribery, empathy-- everything -- but to no avail. Once Koutarou finished her work for the day, there was no moving her from the willow tree. Sometimes, they cried with her.
Her days dragged on like this for weeks.
“ Koutarou,” Kiyoomi said one morning, voice softer than usual. “ You’re going to rot away beneath this tree if something doesn’t change.”
“ Then let me rot.”
Kiyoomi wished she’d said nothing at all.
-
A black cloak landed on her face.
“ Jesus, Koutarou, you look worse than the town drunkard.”
She grunted an unfazed reply from where she floated in the shallow water. He was probably right.
Konoha had been visiting her weekly for reasons she didn’t care to understand. The company was nice, and maybe, just maybe, she could convince herself that Keiji sent him. Either way, he had a routine of his own, but it was mainly comprised of one main goal: make sure Koutarou wasn’t dead.
That particular morning, her collectives had tried to convince her to go for a swim, reminding her of how she used to love to wade in the pond during the hotter months. To their dismay, she took their advice and more. She laid in the water for hours, dead-floating. This was how Konoha found her. He pointedly looked away from her face, dropping her cloak on her immediately as a precaution before turning to her.
She got a peak of him through the thin fabric. He stood above her, face backlit by the glaring sun. Apparently her response wasn’t sufficient. He leaned over and tried to haul her up by her shoulders. Unfortunately, he was lifting an unwilling participant. Her limp arms flailed back in the water, splashing it all in his face. He grimaced, but managed to throw one of her arms over his shoulder.
As he lugged her out, the tears began again.
“I don’t understand, ” she blubbered over and over. She hung her head low as he toted her inside.
When he finally got her inside, he propped her up against a wall while he shuffled through her dresser drawers. Koutarou slid down to the floor, unwilling and unable to support herself. She continued her whining until a fresh pair of clothes hit her in the face.
“Get yourself together. I got some news for you and you’re making this harder than it already is.” The words were harsh, but his tone was soft, as if he were treading on fissured ground. It was then that Koutarou actually took a look at him.
He was dressed in an elegant, but unusual fashion for himself. His chef’s uniform looked more intricate than the kind he usually wore-- as if he were serving a special event.
Golden eyes widened.
“Konoha?” she croaked, looking up to him for reassurance beneath the thin fabric despite knowing he couldn’t see her.
He held a hand out, shaking his head.
“Kou,” he murmured sadly. “At least get yourself dried off first.” He turned around to give her some privacy.
With a new heaviness in the air, Koutarou obliged. Her snakes slurred and spat beneath the fabric as she once again ducked under her hood.
When she finished, she tapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t bother turning around.
“They finalized the dowry negotiations today,” he said, quietly. “A date has been set.”
A sinking sense of finality overcame her.
This was happening.
“When?” she whispered.
He sighed, shaking his head.
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
No.
“Yes. Please.”
When he finally responded, Koutarou’s heart shattered.
“Three days from now.”
-
ONE DAY UNTIL THE WEDDING DATE
“You need to let me in.”
“ No. Koutarou, go home. ”
“Not until you let me in.”
Konoha was guarding the shrouded entrance to Keiji’s garden with a resolve stronger than Koutarou thought him capable. He seemed completely unafraid of her now-- knowing she would never drop the hood. Her head remained ducked the entire conversation.
“I need to speak to Keiji,” she begged.
He groaned, gesticulating wildly to express his frustration.
“And obviously, ” he poked her forehead through the fabric. “Keiji doesn’t want to talk to you. She’s not even here right now!”
“Then why won’t you let me in?” she countered.
“Because Keiji has specifically asked me not to.”
It stung every time he said it-- but not enough for Koutarou to give up. She opened her mouth to argue when a familiar sound interrupted her.
“ Borkborkbork! ”
A fuzzy snout popped out from between Konoha’s knees. Tetsurou leapt out and knocked Koutarou to the ground, who was wholly unprepared to be tackled. When her cloak slipped up, she frantically pawed it back down, relieved to find Konoha had been smart enough to look away.
Rather than his usual vaguely-threatening behavior, Koutarou was met with an onslaught of affection from the dog. Two big paws held down her shoulders while he slobbered on her cheeks. She stared at him incredulously.
“Huh,” Konoha said after a minute, back still turned.“Didn’t expect that.”
Koutarou dumbly nodded her agreement.
“I guess he missed me,” she mumbled, scratching behind his ears when Tetsurou finally settled down.
Konoha sighed. He lifted his hand from beside him to his face. Koutarou heard his hand smack against his his face.
“He’s not the only one, you know… Keiji won’t say anything, but she’s been devastated these last few weeks.”
Guilt flooded her, quickly followed by frustration.
“Then why won’t you let me in?” She snapped. Tetsurou ‘woofed’ in her face at the aggression in her tone, but she ignored it. It was easier to be a bitch when she was staring at Konoha’s back rather than face.
Konoha scoffed. “I already told you— she’s not even here. She’s at—“ he caught himself before he could slip up, clearing his throat.
Koutarou scrambled into an upright position.
“She’s where ?”
There was a brief pause, until he shook his head.
“I— can’t. Have a goodnight, Koutarou.”
Koutarou sunk back down with defeat. Tetsurou jumped up to follow when Konoha began to walk back into the garden. The dog raced ahead, and for a moment, Konoha stopped again.
He spoke cautiously. “One of the taverns is throwing a celebration today. You should go check it out.” Then he disappeared beneath the hedge, leaving behind the sound of rustling leaves and Koutarou’s soaring heart.
She hiked the legs of her pants up and went running.
-
Koutarou was growing weary. Tavern after tavern, and no sign of Keiji. As the sun went down, so did her spirits.
The only good thing about the impending night was the promise of camouflage in the dark. A cloaked stranger with their head hung low was more inconspicuous as stalls shut down and the night life began.
Koutarou promised herself she’d search all night if it meant finding Keiji, but she still begged the gods for some mercy.
There was one last tavern in town, right on the opposite side of where she started. It was closest to Koutarou’s home— but farthest from Keiji’s. It seemed an unlikely choice.
As she approached the tiny dimly-lit building, chattering voices grew louder and louder. She lowered her gaze to the floor as the wooden door creaked open. Raucous laughter filled the night-time air and a few drunken buffoons stumbled their way past Koutarou.
“…beautiful lady for a mighty fine man.”
Koutarou’s head nearly shot up— but she kept her gaze low. She had one goal tonight, and it didn’t involve leaving anyone dead.
She slid past the door before it could shut. A strong shoulder slammed into her and she winced.
“Careful there, bar’s gettin’ a bit crowded.”
She grunted a dismissive response, hoping the guest would find it sufficient. He continued on past her without a reply and her shoulders sagged with relief.
Koutarou quickly began to scan the shoes of the tavern patrons. It wouldn’t necessarily help her find Keiji immediately— but it was a good way to rule people out.
The noise around her seemed to only amplify as she made her way further into the crowd. She brushed against numerous sweaty arms and broad backs until she finally caught the edge of a stool.
The bar.
She clung to the wooden countertop, trying her best to avoid bumping into those sitting in the stools. Most of the guests were focused in the center of the room, dancing away the night and drinking away their troubles, but there were a few stragglers to look out for.
“… Are you no longer excited?” She heard a man ask.
She froze at the sound of the responding voice.
“ What do you mean?”
“Keiji,” her snakes whispered in unison.
Koutarou began to move toward the fiancés. They were close— they had to be for her to hear them over the noise.
“ You seem down, my dear. Why so glum when we should be celebrating?”
In the few seconds it took her to reply, the rowdy cheering only grew louder. Whether or not she actually replied, the answer was lost to the surrounding party.
Koutarou picked up the speed— only to bump into a chair. She readied herself to stagger past when she noticed a lacy white hemline flitting across familiar ivory skin with every anxious twitch of a canvas sandal.
“Keiji,” she breathed.
She watched as the foot froze. There was a moment of silence, until the man’s voice from earlier spoke.
“Yes? Do you need something?”
Koutarou had been so intent on finding Keiji that she had no real plan for when she succeeded.
“Hello?” The man tried again after receiving no response. “Do you know this person, Keiji?”
Again, the two left him to stew in confusion, until finally—
“Koutarou?” Koutarou inhaled a deep gust of breath. “Is that you?”
The sound of Keiji’s sweet voice after so long nearly brought her to her knees. A spark reignited in her heart, sending a tidal wave of bravery coursing through her. With her eyes still low to the ground, she turned her body toward who she assumed to be Takahashi.
“I would like to challenge you to a duel.”
Takahashi laughed so hard his knees buckled. Koutarou watched his feet scramble to regain his balance from where he stood beside Keiji’s chair. His laughter was an ugly sound, like an animal wheezing where it lay dying. An unexpected hand clapped down on Kouarou’s shoulder and she recoiled from the touch. The hand only tightened.
“Darling, what reason would I ever have to duel a woman?”
Koutarou nearly snarled. She jerked her shoulder out of his grasp and took a step back. No matter how angry she was, she knew the cloak had to stay down.
“I said, I challenge you to a duel-- ah--” Koutarou hadn’t thought this out very well. She’d come unarmed. “--with our fists.”
“And I said-- why would I ever duel a woman? And one who won’t even look at me, hm?” He lowered his voice and murmured, “How do you know this woman?”
Keiji disregarded her fiance’s concern. Fingertips brushed Koutarou’s shoulder as Keiji sought her out, a kinder touch than before.
“Koutarou, please, go home.”
Koutarou stiffened when the hand was pried off of her.
“That’s enough. Who are you and what do you want?” The teasing tone from earlier had disappeared. All that was left was the bitterness and confusion he’d been hiding behind taunting words. “Look at me, fool.”
She puffed her chest, “It doesn’t matter who I am-- only what I want. I’m in love with Akaashi Keiji and I am here to challenge you for her hand.”
Keiji gasped while her fiancé huffed, enraged.
“ Koutarou!” Kiyoomi hissed in her ear. “ You’re going to get yourself executed!”
But Koutarou didn’t care. She wanted to scream her love from the highest peak of the Earth. Let them all know of her devotion for Keiji.
Fingers gripped her chin. Takahashi tried to force her face up to stare at him, but she fought against his strength.
“Stop,” Koutarou gritted through her teeth. “That hurts.”
Keiji, who was likely unsure of what was happening, still spoke in Koutarou’s defense.
“Takahashi-san, let her go. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about-- I don’t know who that is.”
“ Bullshit, ” he barked. “Stop lying to defend this pervert. You knew her name.”
Koutarou felt him shift away from her and was reminded of the frustration of being unaware. Unaware of his next move-- unaware of any looming threats. She relied solely on her other senses and a minute amount of her vision.
“You are to be my wife, Keiji, and I will not have someone besmirching our future together like this.”
In an instant, his grip on Koutarou’s shoulder was back. Before she could shrug it off, he placed a hand on the back of her head, slamming her face down against the bartop. All of a sudden, the noise in the tavern diminished to gasps and whispers.
Koutarou’s snakes went wild squirming beneath the cloak and Takahashi made a sound of disgust.
Takahashi leaned down to speak directly in her ear. “I don’t know what’s beneath that hood of yours, but how do you expect to land a hit on me if you can’t even see me?” he sneered.
Tears began to bead at Koutarou’s eyes as she struggled against his hands, but he had an unfortunately good lock on her. Her skin screamed in agony as he ground her face against the wood, digging splinters into her cheeks. She let out an embarrassing wail.
One second, he was forcing her down, the next, there was a loud ‘crack’ and Takahashi jerked back. He groaned in pain.
“Like that, ” Keiji snarled.
Koutarou’s hood fell off right as Keiji spun to face her.
“ Run. ”
Koutarou grabbed Keiji’s hand and bolted through the nearest door, leaving behind the screams and gasps.
When they finally reached her cabin, Koutarou tumbled to the floor, dragging Keiji down with her. She laid her head down on the dirt and let out a peel of laughter.
“I cannot believe you just did that!” Koutarou wheezed. “You really punched him!”
She grunted in surprise when a hand knocked her over the head.
“Ow!” she whined, dramatically. She scowled at Keiji beneath her lashes.
“I cannot believe that you thought coming there was a good idea.” Uh oh. “As well as saying all of that. ”
Koutarou’s smile was gone as soon as it came. Keiji looked pissed. She sat on the floor beside Koutarou, her lanky legs crossed beneath her now dirtied dress. Foggy blue eyes were unamused underneath a set of tightly pinched brows.
Koutarou’s shoulders went rigid.
Had she ruined everything? Was Keiji truly unhappy to see her?
Two gentle hands grabbed her injured cheeks, stroking the rash that had formed.
“You’re an idiot, Koutarou,” Keiji mumbled as she pulled her face closer, running her nose along her cheekbone. She pressed a kiss to the spot under her eye. “I love you too.”
Koutarou tackled Keiji with a smile that rivaled the sun.
-
SIX MONTHS POST WEDDING DATE
Koutarou grumbled at the feeling of sunlight in her eyes. She shifted, only to be reminded of the weight on top of her. Crusty eyelids cracked open.
On her chest lay her favorite sight; a naked Keiji with curls flying in every which direction. Koutarou hadn’t quite perfected her braids yet-- but she was working on it.
She hauled Keiji a bit closer, ignoring her protesting groan to kiss her face. She twirled her fingers in her hair, playing with the inky ringlets until Keiji roused.
“Hello, beautiful,” Koutarou breathed into the morning air. She laid kiss after kiss on her velvet-soft skin.
Keiji grumped back, per usual. She was about as much of a morning person as Koutarou expected any aristocrat to be.
Despite her attempts to be quiet, the other parts of their family began to arise.
“ Good morning, Keiji, ” chorused Osamu’s collective.
“Good morning, ‘Samu,” Keiji murmured. She paused, smoothing her hands along the collective’s back, before continuing.
“Your scales feel particularly sleek today. Has Koutarou gotten you new oils?”
Osamu spluttered at the compliment and Koutarou burst into hoarse chuckles.
Ever since Keiji had moved in, all of Koutarou’s family had taken to her quite well-- and when Konoha snuck Tetsurou over several days later, she quickly learned how lonely they’d all been before. Even with each other, there had always been a sense of longing between them-- like they knew something was missing.
Their bed had become unfortunately full though. With a head full of snakes, two grown adults, and a mass of fur-- they definitely were in need of a bigger one. Koutarou had been bugging Konoha for help for the last month, insisting that he could even have their old one-- be some sort of, live-in-chef or whatever. He’d been a dear friend to them since the start.
In the beginning, after everything had occurred at the tavern, there’d been a manhunt for the girl with the snakes. She’d been deemed a demon, who’d so wickedly captured the Akaashi daughter and soon-to-be-bride. Konoha had instructed them both to stay hidden in the forest. There’d be no need for them to go into the town, he’d insisted, he would bring them food.
There were so many rumors and local legends about the forest, that most dared not go near it. Inevitably, after several long months, the hunt for Keiji died down. She’d been presumed dead.
Koutarou wasn’t entirely sure what Takahashi had been saying for the story to morph into that, but she was almost grateful. Without a villain to take the fall, they’d have been searching for Keiji forever.
At first, Koutarou had been scared. Was this really what Keiji wanted-- a life of isolation? Did she even understand what she’d signed up for?
Keiji laughed in her face the first time she expressed these concerns. The second time, she taught her a lesson.
“ You think I don’t love you enough?” she’d murmured into her ear, her long fingers stroking the waistline of her pants. “That I’d rather be anywhere else, than here with you?” Keiji had made her cum until her body was wracking with shivers from aftershock.
With every new day, Keiji grew happier, as did Koutarou. They settled into a new routine. A comfortable, sweet one. The mornings were full of laughter and love, and their nights full of lust and devotion.
If this was what it was to live a life cursed, then Koutarou never wanted salvation.