Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-𝗢𝗡𝗘-

❝【𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ An admirer? ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓛—iving a double life to most people was something that was not considered ideal. It was tedious and mentally draining to put on a facade. But for [Y/n] it was a lifestyle that she had no other choice but to embrace. It was the only lifestyle that she had known, and for a very long time at that. 

But maybe the term 'double life' was a bit of a stretch. It's not like the woman had two separate identities. She simply would....pick and choose who to share her career choices with. It's not like everyone welcomed murderers with open arms.

She'd hope not at-least.

So there the woman sat, at the bar, by herself, titling the ice in her empty cup around. It was a weekday so not that many people were drinking, except for the regulars. But that was good. It left her alone with her thoughts.

Karma Akabane..

She'd been thinking about the man for weeks now.

Someone wanted to kill him?

She could understand why, of course. The man was a piece of shit. But what she couldn't understand was how she'd pull it off. Her client was anonymous, and didn't give much reason as to why they wanted him dead. Not like she'd care. It was quite a hefty price on that head of his. She could probably retire afterwards.

The woman pushed her empty glass to the side before crossing her arms on the counter and resting her head on them. She'd get him. There was no doubt about it, nor was there any need for her to burden herself with the fear of failure. 

No one could survive a bullet to the head. That was the bottom line.

As [Y/n] started to doze off at the bar, there was a tap to her shoulder that alerted her once more.

"Problem?" She didn't bother looking up to see who it was.

"You drank yourself into a frenzy?" The empty stool beside her was now occupied with a snickering man.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

[Y/n] raised her head from the counter to properly assess the man. 

She had no idea who he was. "Sorry," she apologized for her lack of courtesy, "But who are you?" She followed her apology with even more discourtesy.

"An admirer?" He smiled at her.

"An admirer.." She repeated—not that impressed with his answer.

"What? I can't admire you?" He picked up on her passiveness.

"You can." She wouldn't pass up the opportunity. "On one condition though."

"Yeah?" He liked where this was going, "And what's that?"

"You've got to buy me another drink."

He was hoping she'd say that. "Something strong?"

"Very." 

[Y/n] and the man were the only two people at the bar table, and for some reason he was buying her drink after drink. Which she wasn't refusing. He noticed that she was a bit out of it though, so he figured it was time to call it quits.

"You're pretty wasted." He pointed out the obvious.

'I seem fine to me.' [Y/n] begged to differ.

"I'd feel really guilty if I left you here like this." He continued.

'Would you?' It was a rhetorical question.

"Let's go back to my place?"

'I'll pass.' [Y/n] refused and tried not to doze off again but the man must not have heard her because he helped her up and started leading her to his car anyways.

In reality, it was not the fact that he hadn't heard her. It was the simple fact that she had been responding to him in her head that entire time. She must've been more drunk than she thought. Either that or too exhausted to form a response.

The man; whose name she had yet to learn, helped her into the passenger's seat of his car and buckled her in. He seemed to be on edge now that he was away from peering eyes and no longer had to put on a facade.

He flashed the woman a black look and then disappeared over to the opposite end of the car; joining her on the inside.

"Asesina..." the man hummed to himself as he buckled his seatbelt.

[Y/n] had no idea who that was, nor did she have any idea why he was calling her it.

He took notice of this. "Murderer." He gave the woman a gander.

She wasn't responding. Which he figured she wouldn't. "No reaction?" She didn't seem fazed. "That's fine." It wasn't his job to make her feel guilty.

In fact, his job was already completed. "Go to sleep." With those final words to her he started the car and pulled off.

[Y/n] didn't really pay her kidnapper too much mind. She decided to put off worrying because she was extremely worn out and the man did not appear to have any immediate plans to hurt her. So it was safe for the time being. Because of that, she figured she should take a quick nap to regain her senses.

The woman drowsed away into sleep without a care in the world. It seemed like she held no angst for her current predicament.

How long she was sleeping for was not certain. She did however feel the car come to a stop. It was parked in front of some kind of warehouse in an unfamiliar part of town.

"Fun's over. Time to-"

"Who sent you?" The woman spoke and it startled the man.

"You can talk now?" That was not something that had been expected of her. Fortunately for her though, it would serve as no hiccup in this whole ordeal.

"Yeah. It's a basic life skill." For someone who was just taken hostage by enemy forces she seemed to have no hold on her words. "Now who sent you?"

"A good friend of yours." Was all he gave away.

"Good friend, my ass." [Y/n] assessed herself. She wasn't tied up or anything like that so her first natural instinct was to make a run for it. "You're doing a really shitty job at this whole capture thing ." She must say.

"I was told to bring you here, that's it." He felt no need to go the extra mile and constrain her. It's not like she knew where she was to begin with. Or like she had any chance of successfully escaping.

Seeing that the man had no interest in restricting her, she slowly sat herself up. Her body had this light feeling of static sizzling against the surface, but it was nothing she couldn't ignore. [Y/n] tried lifting up her hand, but it proved troublesome. It took a while for her neurons to understand what was supposed to be taking place and adapting. But once they did, she gave her hand a small shake and reached for the door's handle.

"You can't walk." 

"Don't care." She opened the door anyways.

Just as she did, the people in the car behind her stepped out of their vehicles.

[Y/n] had no idea that there were people parked behind them. She was still in a slight state of delirium. "Fuck." She sighed. It was a sigh of defeat. The woman was outnumbered and in no position to fight off this many men.

She turned her head to the man in the driver's seat, and he gave her a shrug. "Business is business right?" Karma was a bitch.

She opened her mouth to say something to him, but from the opposite end of the car there was a sharp pressure to her neck, and then a burning sensation and some kind of antidote being pushed into her. The men who she had previously disregarded had impaled her with a needle to the neck.

"Have a good one..." those were the final words left with her before she blacked out.

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗢-

❝【𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Insect bite... ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓦—ith an intense dismay, [Y/n] jolted upwards. Her body was coated in a thin layer of sweat and her breathing was quick and hard. 

She looked around fearfully only to be met with the familiar and comforting walls of her bedroom. It made her calm down significantly.

She was home.

Shakily, the woman got out of bed. She had no recollection of what happened the previous day. The only thing that hinted to what could have happened was the bitter aftertaste of alcohol on her tongue. She must have overdone it.

[Y/n] continued to gander at her surroundings. The woman felt uneasy. It was unlike her to wake up in a cold sweat. She could feel within herself that there was some major significance behind it. But for the life of her she could not remember it.

With shaking hands she felt herself, trying to locate any strange bruises or something that might have been out of the ordinary. But nothing came up.

She was fine.

Everything was okay.

[Y/n] continued to calm herself. "Just a nightmare..." she spoke aloud to herself. It was a habit of hers; talking herself through things. She felt that proclaiming things to herself made her believe them more. So basically...she lied to herself a lot.

It made no sense to her piecing together how she got home or what happened to previous day. She had already decided that she had gotten drunk and returned on foot. It was the most logical solution and it was also the most obvious one. After all, it wasn't the first time she had done it. So why should she be so on edge over such a trivial issue?

Overthinking was a killer, and she had no space in her clouded mind for any unnecessary stress. Due to all these factors the woman pushed the issue aside.

'Water..' She could really use some. Her throat was extremely dry and both her head and neck was killing her. Probably because of the position she had slept in.

[Y/n] traveled towards her kitchen which was a pretty decent walk away given her condition. Once there, she opened her fridge. There was none.

She had ran out a few days prior and forgot to restock on it.

Just when she was about to close the fridge and get some water from the sink, she saw a single bottle of water on the door of the fridge.

Thinking nothing of it, she picked it up and unscrewed the cap. It came off quite easily.

She drank all of it and she couldn't tell whether it was all the alcohol she had drank, or if it was the water itself, but there was a small aftertaste.

Must've been a sign that she should probably brush her teeth for the morning. A sign in which she heeded.

On her way to the bathroom, she passed a mirror in the hall. She took a quick look at herself and continued walking pass.

Then she stopped. Something had settled in. With heavy steps she walked backwards, heading to the mirror once more.

On her neck; there was a light mark. She stepped forth with the hope of getting a better view and tilted her neck to the side. She then traced her finger over the mark. It stung to the touch.

"Insect bite.." [Y/n] was quite annoyed. She'd definitely have to do something about these new underlying pests.

With a small yawn, [Y/n] continued her journey to the bathroom. 

"Something freaky's going on."

╭       ╮

❦

╰       ╯

Days had long passed since [Y/n] discovered that strange 'insect bite' on her neck and ever since then, her condition had rapidly been growing worse.

Getting up from the toilet, [Y/n] wiped her mouth and headed over to the sink to brush her teeth. The smell of vomit still lingered.

This was no mere coincidence. She knew it. 'That man' had something to do with her condition.

At night she'd have strange dreams. Dreams of what happened to her that day. She couldn't piece together much. But she had gained enough insight to hold him entirely responsible.

The woman's body was brittle, and her mind was weak. She was burning up, and even the simple notion of thinking caused her great agony.

[Y/n] needed help. She fought valiantly to feel better on her own, but she could no longer sit in misery and bare. Medicines, teas, creams, plants, hell, she even tried crystals. None of it worked. If anything, they might've made her condition worst.

With shuddering hands she picked up her phone. The bright light from the screen set fire to her eyesight.

If her and that man ever crossed paths again, she'd kill him. She was serious. She'd stab him, again and again to her endless satisfaction. It was personal—this was personal. The condition he had left her in was infuriating. 

Unfortunately for her, or, fortunately for him, all of that would have to wait. She had to see the doctor.

Despite her shabby appearance, she grabbed both her phone and wallet to set off to the doctor's office. Enough was enough. This mysterious sickness obviously wasn't going away on its own, and this is where she would draw the line.

Now clearly she was in no position to be driving, so that was out of the question. [Y/n] had called an Uber who would pick her up and take her to the closest hospital because she was confident she couldn't manage further.

With her mind errant, and her body frail, she entered the backseat to the vehicle parked in front of her home.

"To the nearest hospital?" A masculine voice spoke.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah.." her voice came out soft and strained.

"Alright." The man asked no further questions and drove off.

He checked his rear-view mirror to assess the woman's condition. She was in bad shape, an even worst state than what he was told to expect. "Hang in there until we make it." He seemed worried. "Don't go to sleep until we get there, alright?" He relayed to her the same instructions given to him.

The drive to the hospital was a hassle, [Y/n] had to stop herself from falling asleep multiple times, and everything just seemed a thousand times louder than usual. But she held on strong.

The driver arrived at their destination, in record breaking time too. But [Y/n] had no idea where they were, or even how they got there. The journey was just one big blur to her.

"Thanks..." she tried getting herself out of the car but it was futile. The driver ended up helping her and escorting her to the front door of the facility, to which she thanked him again.

[Y/n] entered the establishment silently. It was completely empty. The only person there was the man at the front desk. Which was weird. 

"You're here.." It was although he was expecting her.

"My name..." she tried composing herself to at least form a coherent sentence. "[F/n], [L/n]...." She was growing dizzy.

"There's a doctor right down that hall," he pointed her in the direction. "You can go see him now," and with that, she was off. No further questions asked—she was in no condition to.

[Y/n] hadn't been to many hospitals in her life, but she was almost positive that it was unusual for her to be served this quickly. The hospital was even empty when she arrived. When is a hospital ever empty? Never; that's when.

Something...was off. Yet again, everything felt off to her. Sickness can do that to a person.

The doctor led her into his office and motioned for her to sit down on one of those patient beds. She made every effort to respond to the inquiries he started asking as they came. But the questions seemed to have no end.

Everything started moving in slow motion, like time had stopped. [Y/n]'s eyes were getting heavy, and her head felt fuzzy.

"Are you on any possible medication that could be..."

Nothing he was saying made sense anymore...She had been trying for so long but it was no longer possible for her to hold on to her small plane of consciousness. [Y/n] allowed herself to zone out.

"[L/n]...?" the doctor tried to snap her out of it. 

But it was too late. Everything had already gone black.

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘-

❝【𝓜𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓻】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Your fiancée came 

to visit! ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓖—aining consciousness was beginning to feel like a chore to the woman since she was in and out of it so much. She could feel the harsh lights descending on her; waiting for her to open her eyes, and with a feeling of defeat she eventually did.

Eventually, as her retina adapted to the hospital lights, it was able to make sense of all the hazy figures and deliver accurate images to her brain.

[Y/n] was in a hospital room—completely alone. She tried sitting upright to further assess what might've been taking place, but it was then that she noticed all the little plastic tubes connected to her arms and the massive heart monitor.

She couldn't get up either. Her brain desperately wanted to, but her body was not responding. It lied there limply.

Whatever the hell she was diagnosed with must've been one hell of a disease.

As she basked in her own dismay, there was a staticky noise emitted from above. A woman started speaking to her. Probably the first woman she'd come into contact with all week.

"Good morning, you should be awake by now," her voice was slightly muffled.

"I have good news for you," she cooed in that nurse voice of hers. [Y/n] was sure it was some attempt to make her feel better about the whole ordeal, but it only annoyed her. "Your fiancée came to visit!"

[Y/n] rolled her eyes at the intercom and was about to go back to sleep. But then the information really processed. Her fiancé came to visit?

She had no fiancé...

"He'll be with you shortly," and with that, the static went away.

[Y/n] had done a lot of things in her lifetime even though it had barely started, but getting engaged had never been one of them.

Where the hell was she in the first place, and what the hell is wrong with her?! 

[Y/n] immediately became aware of approaching footsteps due to the steady embark and the quiet clacking sound each of the steps produced against the tile..

The sounds got louder and louder until they abruptly ceased. She couldn't see pass the closed door of the room. That indicated that either someone was waiting outside or that they had fully passed her.

A few seconds of silence followed, and she grew relieved. Nobody was-

"There you are," an oh so familiar figure revealed themself. The moment the woman recognized him, he could see the fear in her eyes.

A fairly tall man shared the space with her. His hair was combed back, and his mocking mercury eyes were tormenting her.

Akabane—Karma Akabane.

"I brought you a little something since you're, you know, dying and all." He placed a giant brown teddy bear, almost the same height as an elementary school child on the desk beside [Y/n], along with a beautiful big bouquet of flowers; her favorite kind.

He then took a chair from the corner, and dragged it to the side of the bed where [Y/n] was. He said nothing to her, he simply sat and observed her state.

The heart rate monitor began to pick up speed, and Akabane took notice of this. He found it irksome. "Cut that out." His tune was grim. 

[Y/n] inhaled deeply as she worked to calm herself. Now, her demise seemed nearly certain. The least she could do was delay the situation as much as possible.

Once her heartbeat had slowed down Karma began speaking again. "I heard you were looking for me." There was humor in his voice, infact, he had scoffed while relaying the phrase. Karma was looking down on her. Could you blame him? I mean, just look at the state she was in.

"Well..." He lounged back, "Here I am." He brought himself to her so she wouldn't need to search. Well....he brought her to him so she wouldn't have to search.

[Y/n] gave no response. In fact, she was avoiding looking at the man altogether.

"Are you not happy to see me?" The humor in his voice told her that he already knew the answer to that question.

"Come on beautiful..." He grinned. "Talk to me?"

'....'

Reaching out, Akabane grasped [Y/n] by the face. "When I'm speaking to you, look at me." Her heart rate accelerated as he contacted her.

Karma realized that he was coming off too strongly, so he let go. "I'm sorry.." He softened his voice. "I'm sorry." He'd switch his approach.

The monitor slowed down gradually.

"You must be hungry?" Akabane knew she hadn't eaten for a while. He rose from his chair and moved towards the entrance. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He doubt she could.

Once he had left, [Y/n] was finally able to breath. She was confused to the upmost degree. She made a mistake. She had failed to notice important clues along the road, and as a result of her negligence, she gave the man the advantage. She played right into Akabane's hands.

His tedious way of assassination, she overlooked it. She created rationales. She excused all the signs as natural phenomenons. But none of this was natural. All of this was the result of precise planning. This was all his doing.

Karma came back with a snack plate loaded with a variety of items. "The doctor said you're not supposed to be eating all of this but don't tell anyone, alright?" he bargained.

When Akabane looked away from [Y/n] to arrange the snacks in the order he wished to feed her, [Y/n] turned to face him. He had taken off his surgical mask, revealing his face, and she used the opportunity to silently study his facial features.

She must've gotten carried away because after what seemed like only a brief period of time, she noticed that his lip had changed form and that he was smirking. They then locked eyes as he turned to face her. "Done staring?"

Embarrassed that she had been caught, she looked away again.

Karma let her be. "Pudding first?" He gave her a chance to refuse.

She ignored him completely in hopes that he would just go away.

Akabane interpreted her lack of response as a yes and opened the container of pudding. "Open wide," he scooped some up with the plastic spoon.

[Y/n] shook her head no. Akabane was not to be trusted, especially around food.

He took the spoon, and put it in his mouth instead. Swallowing the pudding to show her that there was in fact nothing wrong with it.

"If i wanted to kill you, I would've done it already." It had been a week and some change since he had started toying with her.

The man went in closer, putting a spoonful of pudding into her mouth. He waited for [Y/n] to swallow so he could give her more, but she spit it back out on his face. "Fuck you." 

Out of anger he reached over, grabbing the girl by her throat. "I'll fucking kill-"

Soon after becoming aware of what he was doing, he released her. "Ah fuck." She made him lose his composure. "Look at what you did..." He dismissed it with a laugh.

"So you can now talk now?" All along, she had purposefully been ignoring him. "Eat your pudding [L/n]," he got a paper towel to wipe his face.

"No." She spat.

Karma grabbed a hold of [Y/n]'s jaw with one hand, forcing it open, and put a spoonful of pudding in with the next. "Swallow," he commanded.

[Y/n] looked up at him, not bothering to hide the fact that she was seething with anger and murderous intent. 

"Swallow, it, [L/n]," her mouth was still full and Karma hadn't plan on asking a third time.

She shook her head no and he tightened his grip. "Don't do this to me." He wasn't in the mood to be doing this. "Swallow it." He spoke one final time and loosened his hold, allowing her to swallow.

[Y/n] succumbed to defeat and swallowed. 

Karma sighed with relief and then took a seat again. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Chapter Text

-𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥-

❝【𝓢𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Stop speaking in

riddles. ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

"𝓨—eah," Karma was on the phone engaging vigorously in conversation while [Y/n] lied there motionless. "No, I'm actually kind of busy right now." He declined their offer. "Yeah," He laughed. "Definitely."

[Y/n] glared at the man from her bed and he flashed her a smile before returning to his conversation.

"My wife's getting upset.." He gave the person on the other end of the line a heads-up before grinning even wider at [Y/n]. "Yeah, I've got to call you back." Karma was trying to ease his way out of the conversation. "Yeah..." 

When the conversation was ready to conclude, something seemed to catch Karma off guard. "What?" He was shocked. "You didn't know I had a wife?" He chuckled.

Never in her life has the woman encountered a liar with such precision.

When [Y/n] and Akabane exchanged glances, he could tell she wasn't too impressed with him. "I'm just messing with you man." He came clean to his friend. "I don't have a wife."

Good. It turns out even Akabane could feel guilty for misleading others.

"Yet." He added on and then turned his back to [Y/n] so that she could stop glaring at him. "She's my fiancé."

Or not. He had absolutely no moral compass.

"Listen, I can't keep talking right now. But we can catch up this weekend." Karma had some business to attend to. "Of course I'll be in Paris."

Paris?

"Rue Du Nord, 3:00pm, Central European Time."

[Y/n] listened with interest. Being unable to assassinate Akabane due to her lack of knowledge of his whereabouts was her toughest challenge. The man was practically a ghost. But now, circumstances had shifted. He revealed himself. It was almost as though he wanted her to come kill him.

It put the woman on edge.

"See ya." Karma hung up the phone and then inserted it into his back pocket. "Alright..." he turned around to face [Y/n] once more. "Where were we?"

"...."

Although [Y/n] was positive that Akabane's visitation period had long since expired, he was still there. The man was harping on [Y/n] about his ideologies and whatever else sprang to his mind.

There was clearly something he was dying to get off his chest, and enough was enough. "If you're not gonna kill me then why are you here?" The girl finally snapped at him.

This caught Karma off guard at first, but in truth, he was waiting for her to inquire. He had no issues whatsoever in providing the girl with the answers she so sorely wanted.

Akabane sat beside her and began to speak. "I did all of this simply to have a peaceful conversation with you. Is that too much to ask for?"

Why yes. It was too much to ask for. Especially when he was asking in conditions like these.

[Y/n] was appalled. Akabane could have approached the situation in a myriad of various ways. But giving her a ticket straight to the E.R?! For what? A conversation?! Not to mention that he was the only one fucking talking.

"According to what I've heard, you've been seeking me out for quite the minute." He reclined. It supported his claim that he was superior to her. How did she find herself in a predicament like this to begin with? Because of simple slip ups, that's how.

Slip ups that he'd never make.

It was a collection of her petty mistakes that allowed Akabane to easily locate her whereabouts.

"Don't get me wrong, it's really admirable that you'd go so far just for me, but you're doing a very shitty job on your part." Akabane broke it down for the woman.

"You'll never kill me at this rate," A deep sigh followed. "And that's no fun."

He didn't give [Y/n] a chance to reply or react before he continued speaking. "So when you start feeling better, which is very soon. Come find me." He was finally getting to the good part.

The virus that Karma had exposed [Y/n] was at its pinnacle and would soon subside. The dosage was no where near lethal. He had no plans in harming the woman in any way, shape or form (except emotionally of course). 

The virus was designed with the sole intent of immobilizing her. His initial design may have deviated somewhat, owing to mutations generated outside of his control, but they were merely a small inconvenience and not a fatal fault in his preparations. She'd suffer no long term damages and bounce back from it in no time.

Come find him? "That's easier said than done." [Y/n] scoffed at what she had believed to be his attempt of mocking her. She had been searching for him this entire time and just look at how that turned out for her.

"You're a smart cookie [Y/n]," Karma said with a smile. "You'll figure something out." He was sure of it. In fact, he was absolutely positive. He was positive because he would make things easy for her. Painstakingly easy.

That wasn't the only thing that [Y/n] was left to figure out on her own. "Why are you doing all of this?" She stared at him blankly and then her face furrowed. "Do you have a death wish?"

Akabane kept his gaze fixed. He had to be careful how he transmitted information to her since it might jeopardize his objectives. "I don't have a death wish in particular, but there is something else that I wish for." He hummed. "As for why I'm doing all this? Our current agendas may now be different, but the path to our destination will be the same." 

There were many distinct meanings to what he said, but [Y/n] was unable to discern any of them. which he was aware she was unable to do at the moment. But eventually, she would start to put everything together.

[Y/n] turned on her side opposite the man. His presence was only bringing her great misfortune. "Stop speaking in riddles." Her head was hurting. "And go away." Akabane had made a great mistake in sparing [Y/n]'s life because when the tables finally turned she would not be as sympathetic towards him. 

The woman was able to move her body, which caught Akabane's attention. He however, did not bring it up. It appeared as though her body was swiftly retaliating in response to his malady. Which meant that it was indeed time for him to take his leave.

He dragged his chair back into the corner he first got it. Glancing at the girl with a hint of amusement as he slipped a small piece of paper along side the flowers he had previously bought for her. 

"We'll see meet again soon," He left. "Be ready.."

Chapter Text

-𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘-

❝【𝓜𝓻. 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓻】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Close your eyes . 

it's rude to watch a 

lady change ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

'𝓞—ur current agendas may now be different, but the path to our destination will be the same.' [Y/n] scribbled down the words on a piece of paper so that she wouldn't forget them. They held some significant meaning; she knew it for a fact. She just had to figure out what.

Karma was a tricky man. In fact, he was a lot of things. But one thing he wasn't- Well...he was a liar. But not in the case of her dispatchment. 

True to his word she did start to feel better soon. Very soon. Soon as in the next day. The doctor ran some tests, checked her state, then shortly after she was released. Just like that. No further examinations.

It was quite bizzare.

Though Akabane seemed to have no interest in getting rid of her for the time being, [Y/n] did not retaliate those feelings. The woman had motive. Strong ones.

He had made a mockery of her. 

Just leave it up to Karma Akabane to send someone to their death bed and show up with gifts the next day.

She despised the man whole heartedly. He could have killed her. The chance was there. Right in front of him, waiting for him to reach out and grasp it. Yet, he didn't.

To say she was humiliated would be an understatement. She was humiliated that she couldn't find him. Humiliated that she allowed herself to be hijacked. Humiliated that she didn't question what had happened even when she could feel something was wrong. Humiliated that she walked right into the man's hands. And most of all she was humiliated that she was dispatched to do it all over again.

She was the man's laughing stock. Him and all those other men that were apart of it. The woman felt helpless. She was a pawn in Akabane's hand.

She couldn't accept that. 

No...

She refused to.

'Come find me.'

'You'll figure something out.'

Karma was forcing [Y/n] to indulge in his made up game of cat and mouse. He knew nothing in the world could piss her off more. He was rebelling against her conventional means of assassination because they differed from his idiosyncratic ones.

Karma wanted [Y/n] to do away with the sniper. He wanted her to come at him with everything she had. He wanted the woman to get down and dirty. If she had intended to kill him, then she would have to do so in the most grandest way. He wanted the woman to conquer up something not even he could think of. Not some fucking bullet to the head from a mile away. Who was he? John F. Kennedy?

But [Y/n] refused to give him that. She'd take his life with a bullet to the head. She refused to change course. To switch procedure, to her, would mean to turn her back on everything she stood for.

[Y/n] stepped foot out of the vehicle that she had been dropped off in. In front of her stood her home. A place that no longer felt safe since it's whereabouts was made known to the demurral.

She looked around the area, trying to scout anything that might've been out of the ordinary, but nothing seemed out of place. Yet again, nothing to her ever did.

With her hands full she walked forth.

The door was just barely out of reach when she set all her things down on the porch to reach into her pocket for the house keys.

After completing this task [Y/n] unlocked the door, picked up her things from their resting place and walked inside.

She kicked off her shoes and put them to the side as she tried to find a place to put the flowers she had been given.

The smart thing to do would have been to leave them at the hospital but sadly they didn't not grant her that luxury.

"Fucking Karma.." [Y/n] threw the stuffed animal down on her couch and made her way to the kitchen to strip the flowers from their current container to transfer into a vase.

If it weren't for the fact that they were her favorite arrangement, she would have thrown the fuckers away.

[Y/n] set foot to the decorational vase next to her staircase that was sitting pretty on a small table. Carefully she picked it up with both hands and then returned to the kitchen.

She then filled the vase up with water from her sink. [Y/n] had no other vases in her home except this one. Which was purely used for decoration.

She had received it at an auction. It was her life's worth and yet here she was...using it to keep flowers alive. Not just any flowers though. Flowers from Akabane.

Her favorite flowers though...

Once the vase was filled enough, she removed the flowers from their paper wrapping and transferred them into the vase.

God it really pained the woman to do this. But the flowers were too nice to let wither away.

As for the bear? She had no use for it.

[Y/n] returned to the couch to pick up the stuffed animal and then proceeded to travel up the stairs, dragging the big bear up along with her. She didn't bother being gentle in the slightest.

Once in her room, [Y/n] set the bear down on the center of her bed. It took up quite a lot of space but she didn't really mind.

[Y/n] glanced at the bear briefly and scoffed before carrying on with her previous antics. Karma had garnished the bear to favor him. And although she walked away in an attempt of ignoring it, she found herself returning to the same spot to evaluate her gift further.

She stood there, her eyes focused on the animal. A deep silence had enveloped the room. Something wasn't right...

[Y/n] crawled on top of the bed, creeping until she was face to face with the plaything. The staring continued. The woman peered at the creature with deep peculiarity. But then she stopped.

She pushed the bear backwards a bit, and then laughed. The laugh wasn't one of humour. It was more of a scoff, but she disguised it well. "There you go." She spoke aloud. "You were crooked..." She explained, putting an end to any underlying suspicion.

The woman got off the bed and left the bear there. "Your father is quite the conniving man, wouldn't you agree Mr. Bear?" The woman was engaging in one sided conversation with the stuffed animal. If it wasn't confirmed before then it was definitely confirmed now.

She had lost her mind.

"Yes, he is quite the character." She didn't bother waiting for an answer because she wasn't getting any. "But I will admit, you're quite the beautiful gift." She further admired the animal on her bed. This time with admiration at its design and the details that had been put into creating it.

Someone had hand-stitched it themself. She could tell. It wasn't just something that he had bought for her from a nearby store. He created it. It was personal, and there was definitely lots of thought put into its creation because as much as she had despised the man, she couldn't bring herself to hate it one bit. It was a work of art.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to give him something in return." [Y/n] didn't see the harm in it.

Before she could get to that however, she had to go take care of a few things. The scent of the sick hospital air still traveled with her and it disturbed her greatly.

"Close your eyes," She began undressing. "It's rude to watch a lady change."

[Y/n] stripped into just her underwear and discarded her dirty clothes into the hamper. Her under garments weren't matching and her once covered body was now exposed; almost entirely in its glory.

After making herself more comfortable, [Y/n] traveled over to her drawer to find something to clothe herself in following her shower.

Once her clothes were secured, the woman somehow disappeared from eyes view.

Her whereabouts were unknown until she returned from the direction of what was assumed to be the closet.

She didn't return empty-handed either.

In the woman's hand was a long wooden box. That she was smiling heavily at.

With a proud grin, she took the heavy  rectangular container over to Mr. Bear. Placing the box in front of him with a loud thump. She sat down and crossed her legs.

"Guess what's in the box." She pressed. 

Silence.

"Well since you're dying to know. I'll show you." The most sinister look crossed [Y/n]'s face.

The box had a series of locks and codes that were required to open it. It took her a minute, but eventually she was able to bypass the security systems put in place.

Slowly afterwards, she turned the casing over in the animal's direction so he could get a better view as the box's lid rose up on its own.

Inside was the Lobaev Arms SVLK-14S. Her new toy.

It was a Russian weapon to be exact. 

Some claimed it to be the most desirable sniper rifle all around. A game changer to the world of assassination. Well, she'd just have to find out for herself. The woman had yet to give the gadget a go.

With this, she should be able to catch Karma from a distance of nearly two miles.

When [Y/n] first heard of the mechanism, she was dying to get her hands on it. By any means necessary. Whether it be legal or not.

The stories of what it could do were almost too astonishing to be real. 

This weapon was made piece by piece with precision just like that of a high-end car or a new model phone. This gun was meant for someone skilled in their craft, someone who had a fine eye for weaponry. 

In other words...it was meant for her.

"At a speed of nine hundred meters per second, this thing fires four hundred and eight inch Cheyenne Tactical rounds from the barrel. That's almost triple the speed of sound." [Y/n]'s eyes sat on her lap, focused on the contents of the box as she spoke.

She was positive her little buddy caught all of that. But just to make herself clear, she'd crystallize things for him. "Such a bullet can pierce a metal rail that is 3 centimeters thick."

[Y/n] raised her eyes from the box and gazed at the beady and inanimate ones that for some reason seemed to be peering right back at her. "Bones aren't made of metal..."

No helmet or bullet-proof vest would help the man.

"You were right Akabane," She hummed to herself, no longer looking at the bear. "I will find you."

Chapter Text

-𝗦𝗜𝗫-

❝【𝓘 𝓢𝓹𝔂...】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ It's starting...❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

'𝓣—hat's odd..' Karma thought to himself as he swayed back and forth in his rolling chair.

Either the woman was extremely delusional or she had seen through his antics. He wasn't entirely sure.

At first it was all shits and giggles, he was enjoying the nice view of [Y/n]'s tits as she sat down in the front of him and observed the bear.

But then like two seconds later she was threatening him with a 3.2 million yen sniper rifle that she got from fucking Russia. 

He couldn't fathom how things had escalated so quickly. Neither could he properly interpret what she had said before she left to head in the shower.

[Y/n] called out to him directly. She acknowledged the fact that he was right and that she would indeed find him. But she had broken off eye contact so she could have just been speaking aloud to herself in reference to him. She might have not known that the bear was tinkered with.

Either way, Karma didn't let it bother him. So what if she knew? Nothing would change.

"Arisu!" Karma called out to his subordinate, taking his eye off of his 'work' for the time being.

"On my way sir," A feminine voice called out in response.

Arisu entered the room and Karma span around to great her with a smile. "Look," He pointed at his monitor.

Arisu followed his finger and was met with nothing but an empty room on the screen. "..?" Her confusion was visible.

"It's starting." Akabane elaborated. "Do you remember everything I told you?"

"About that woman?" Arisu picked her gaze up from the monitor and leered forward towards to the wall behind it.

Karma followed her gaze and nodded. "Yeah.." On the wall were hundreds of different pictures of [Y/n].

Most were mundane photos that ranged from her grocery shopping to walking the sidewalk or attending any other public place. While others were a bit more personal, like pictures taken from the outside of her bedroom window and the inside of the bar she regularly attended. Some were taken close up in crowded areas while others were far away with just her.

It was a bit....disturbing. "I remember." 

"What do you think will become of all this?" Karma was curious as to what the woman thought.

"I'm not sure sir.." But she was positive it couldn't have been anything good.

Her answer didn't provide Akabane with much insight. "Alright then." He had no further need for her. "You're dismissed." 

Karma had contacted her to let her know that their plans were underway. From this point forward, they would part ways. Arisu had her own tasks at hand. Akabane on the otherhand? He had a number of side quests to complete before he could join her again.

Arisu nodded and made her way to the door. But she was stopped.

"One more thing..."

"Yes?" She turned around.

"Don't fuck this up." There was no room for mistakes, whether they be minor ones or not.

"I never do." She left and Akabane scoffed to himself as she walked off. That was quite a ballsy statement.

Karma turned back around to his monitor, and just like before, [Y/n]'s room was empty. It had been like that for half an hour now. The man was growing concerned.

He sat there impatiently watching the screen that was connected to the camera in his companion's eye, waiting eagerly for something to happen, anything.

[Y/n] was taking forever to get her ass out the shower. What the fuck was she doing in there anyways? Playing with herself? 

If so, she could've done that in her room. He wouldn't have mind watching.

Was that weird?

Probably. He didn't care.

Karma got up from his seat. The man was fed up of watching for the day. He would just have to save the rest of the footage to his flash drive and speed through it all later.

Well, that was the big idea until someone decided to make an appearance.

It was [Y/n]. She wasn't wearing anything except a towel as she entered the room.

Karma stood there, he gave his computer screen a glance, and then he drew his attention back towards the exit. He wasn't sure whether he should still leave or not.

With a harsh mental sigh, the man sat back down. This better had been good.

[Y/n] entered his frame some more and he tilted his head to observe. The towel didn't really seem to be that secure.

It slipped a little and Akabane slouched back into his chair. Things were beginning to get interesting for the man.

[Y/n] pulled the towel back up and then continued searching around.

It seemed as though she had misplaced her clothes.

Lucky him.

[Y/n] kept rummaging around the place and the more she did, the more her towel would slack and slide.

It was going to fall eventually. Karma's intuition was almost never wrong.

Now the question was; would he be a pervert and watch, or would he be a man and grant her some privacy?

You'd think the answer would be easy right?

Correct. The answer was quite a simple one. Hopefully both God and [Y/n] would forgive him though.

With prying eyes the man observed her every move. [Y/n] was growing frustrated.

Karma knew that she had taken her clothes into the bathroom with her to change. But it seemed as though she'd forgotten. What a dunce.

[Y/n] was hunched over her bedroom drawer. She was trying to search behind it to see if her clothes had somehow fell but she found nothing.

The woman swung herself back upright and as soon as she did, her towel fell all the way down to her ankles. Leaving her backside fully exposed to the man's curious gaze.

"Called it," Karma smiled to himself. It was quite the nice view of her rear. It wasn't much—the view that is—but it was something. Something he could definitely get behind. Both literally and figuratively.

Karma paused the live footage footage and zoomed in. He then dragged his chair forward and pulled his face closer to the screen. Then he squinted. 

The camera quality was pretty good. Akabane could see some of the faint lines on [Y/n]'s ass cheek.

The man was impressed. Well, that was before the severity of his actions dawned on him. He had surpassed the average creep and moved onto new, undiscovered levels of perversion. 

Slowly, Karma inched away from the screen. Though he had established some distance, it still wasn't enough. Due to that fact, the man powered off his monitor.

He then sat there in silence. The man was trying to process where along in his schemes had he deviated. A few minutes ago he was gathering information like he was supposed to, and now, he was....

Well, he was not gathering information. Not the right kind of information at least.

Karma snapped himself out of it. There was an important task at hand and he couldn't allow himself to fall victim to lust. Not right now atleast.

He turned his monitor back on and once again [Y/n] was gone. She was most likely retracing her steps. That was fine. He could wait.

About five minutes went by and it felt like a few seconds to Akabane since he was so caught up in his own thoughts. But seeing the woman's silhouette waltz past was enough to bring him back to focus.

[Y/n] was fully dressed. She was in a onesie that was a bit too large for her. It covered her frame entirely with some left over fabric. Karma scoffed at the woman's attire. 

God had provided the woman with quite the physical charm. If she hadn't been so poker-faced she could've gotten quite far in the industry. Seduction wouldn't have been hard for someone of her caliber at all. In fact, it would be the most effective method of assassination for her. Karma didn't doubt his thesis one bit.

Yet, [Y/n] refused. She kept her body hidden away from all peering eyes like some kind of weirdo. She'd dress up in all these weird and modest fashion pieces like she was somebody's grandma. It was annoying. 

It was bothersome because Karma seemed to be...captivated by it for some odd and cynical reason? If he had to give an explanation as to why, he wouldn't be able to.

The only reasoning that might have been plausible was the fact that people were often drawn to things they didn't fully understand; and boy was [Y/n] a conundrum.

That posed as no problem though. Akabane had a knack for riddles. There had yet to be one he couldn't solve.

From the underside of her bed, [Y/n] pulled out a large suitcase. She was beginning to pack for an upcoming trip. A trip that Akabane had purposely tipped her off about.

A trip to Paris.

A wide grin of satisfaction plastered straight across the man's face. It seems his hints did not go unnoticed. 

"Atta' girl."

Chapter Text

-𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓸𝓯𝓯】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ I'm just the

 pilot.❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓣—he airport was a revolting place to be in. The loud noises, the sickly airport air, and worst of all the clusters of people. The thought of waiting in an environment like that for hours on end just to hop on a filthy plane and get squished in with a hundred other people sent a shiver up [Y/n]'s spine.

It was an excessive amount of sensory saturation. Which is why [Y/n] had made the personal decision to fly private. It would combat all of her previous problems, and it was also much more efficient and stress free.

Or so she thought.

Unfortunately for the woman, things weren't exactly going according to plan today. Everything that could possibly go wrong, did.

[Y/n] was running an hour late because she couldn't get her car to start. On top of that she had overslept, and her housekeeper wasn't in town this week so she had to find someone else to look after her home in her absence. Which only made her waste more time.

That wasn't even the worst of it. Her pilot had called her during the Uber ride to the runway to cancel their flight. He blamed it on some urgent family matters and didn't elaborate any further.

She was pissed. 

All this preparation for her trip just for it to go terribly wrong in every single way. [Y/n] was praying to the gods that everything would work out somehow, someway. It just had to.

It was too late to call in backup, she needed to be in Paris by this afternoon and she didn't want to be one of those people who'd up and make a big fuss. But this was definitely something to up and make a big fuss about!

The woman on the phone was trying her dire best to accommodate [Y/n] with some public flying options but that wouldn't do. Smuggling weapons through a public plane was basically impossible. 

The private options were much more straightforward. They had no care for what kind of luggage was going onboard as long as they were paid for.

If [Y/n]'s weaponry got caught on a public plane, she'd be lucky to even get a life sentence.

"Can you come into the airport?" The lady would have to work something out with [Y/n] in person.

"Alright," She hung up the phone. [Y/n] was just pulling up to the airport. Her Uber came to a stop and she quickly got out of the vehicle to unload her things. 

"Thank you so much!" The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out some cash. She didn't even bother checking how much before she handed it to the man. "Have a good day!" She was having trouble carrying all of her things.

The driver was taken aback after receiving the huge wad of cash. "You too ma'am!" He was about to drive off until he noticed her visibly struggling to carry her things, so instead, he got out of the car to help.

"I've got it." He took both bags away from her.

"Thank you." [Y/n] really did appreciate the gesture.

The both of them walked into the airport together and the man assisted [Y/n] in taking her luggage over to a lady at an empty desk since that seemed to be where she was heading.

Once that was all taken care of, the man took his leave. 

"Good morning." [Y/n] greeted the lady. 

"You're miss [L/n]?" The woman wanted clarification.

"Yes."

There hadn't been much flying options but the woman was still trying to assist. "The next plane is leaving in about three hours. You can buy a ticket and-"

"I'll pass." [Y/n] was not flying public, nor did she have three hours to spare. "Is that all?" If so then this was a complete waste of time.

"Well..." There was another option. "There's a pilot here." She knew all of the flying arrangements for the day. "He's going to the same place you are."

"Really?" That was a start. "Where is he?"

"Here." A voice came from behind her. He had heard their entire conversation.

[Y/n] turned around to evaluate this mystery pilot. But when she locked eyes on him she was taken aback by his appearance. She was met with a tall and intimidating looking man. His hair was platinum blond and he was covered in tattoos.

"Woah.." She mumbled to herself. "You're a pilot?" She would have never guessed.

"That, i am." He had a French accent. It made [Y/n] feel a bit more safe around him. Especially since....you know. He looked like that.

"Where are you heading?" She knew the receptionist told her that they were going to the same place but she needed clarification.

"France."

[Y/n] looked the man over one more time and the woman was quite blunt with her gaze. "Can I tag along?" She was out of options here.

"Hmm..." He was skeptical of the woman's appearance. "What do they call you?" 

Her name? "[F/n] [L/n]."

"Ah, Ms. [L/n]." His demeanor towards her seemed to change just slightly. Not in a positive light either. "Taking you won't oppose as a problem." [Y/n] smiled. "However.." [Y/n] stopped smiling. "I have a second passenger aboard with me." He couldn't fail to mention that.

"A second passenger?"

"The owner of the aircraft." He specified further. "I'm just the pilot."

"Should I be asking him then?" She was confused.

"No." There was no need for that. "He's very..." He seemed to be searching for the correct word to use. "Open-minded, yes." That was the word.

"So you're going to take me then?" She was uncertain.

"I am. So long as you don't mind him."

It wasn't a problem at all. "I guess we have a deal then." She reached her hand out to shake his.

"Follow me." He helped her with some of her baggage. [Y/n] gave the receptionist a nod and with that final gesture, she was off.

This wasn't the way she had originally envisioned her trip going but she was glad it had somehow worked out for her anyways.

"Thank you once again." She relayed her gratitude to the man.

"Don't thank me just yet." He wasn't the one responsible for her flying arrangement.

[Y/n] laughed in response and continued following him.

They carried on with their journey to the outskirts of the runway and made a sudden stop. [Y/n] was confused as to why this was. All she could see in the front of her were large commercial aircrafts. None of them were suitable for private expeditions.

"That is the one." The man was referring to a white plane that had both black and red stripes intertwining on either sides of the wings, trailing to the body of the aircraft.

They both walked closer to the aircraft and to appreciate the scope of everything, [Y/n] lifted her head higher. For a second she froze. She couldn't afford this, and by a wide margin at that.

"You mean that one?" She pointed to the flying-craft just to be certain. "Like...the big one right there?" Surely this was one of the commercial airplanes and the real aircraft was just somewhere behind it. She looked around but saw nothing else.

"The one directly in front of us? Yes." He thought that would be a given. Apparently not though.

"All of this for three people?" It was absurd!

"Two people." He corrected. 

Slowly a flight of stairs came down, and the man titled his head to the side signaling for [Y/n] to get on board.

"Sir...I don't have the money to pay you guys for this." She came clean. Yes she technically did have the money. But spending it on a fucking airplane? Come on. She'd rather swim to Paris.

"It's his aircraft. You don't need to pay me." He had been paid in advance and he was only getting payed for his skills so he couldn't have cared any less about how many people there were on board.

With that being said [Y/n] went up the stairs and into the aircraft. The man following suite behind.

Since the aircraft was so high off the ground, there were quite a few steps to climb, so she was especially relieved to be free of the weight of her luggage.

Once inside she was even more distraught. It looked more overpriced on the inside than it did out. 

Eggshell cushioned walls, and a matching white carpet. Soft cushions on all the seatings, and hints of golden decor. A bookshelf, a fruit bowl on one of the little tables, shit, it even had a flatscreen. 

By the looks of it, there were even more divisions in the back. Whoever took the time out to make such a foolish purchase such as this, ought to be ashamed of themselves.

The stairs [Y/n] had previously climbed to get on the aircraft hauled back up and all the other exits were closed off. 

She was accustomed to never asking questions because of her line of work, but this was all just too much. Who in their right mind would offer to fly a stranger to Paris? And in such grand style too.

Yet again...who in their right mind would accept? There had to have been some kind of catch. Right?

Since all aircraft landing at the port must pass through security and other procedures, [Y/n] felt it was reasonably safe. However, something still seemed amiss. Perhaps she had been too naive.

"You can take a seat. We're leaving now." The pilot began making his way over to the front of the aircraft where the flight deck was.

Curiousity began to get the best of [Y/n] and she called after him before he got the chance to leave. "This other person you kept speaking of. Where is he?" [Y/n] wanted to speak to him.

The pilot didn't bother turning around. Instead, he continued making his way upfront. His job here was done, and it was a good thing he was getting paid extra for it all.

[Y/n] was ticked off by his rudeness and she called out to him again. "Is he in here?" She questioned incase he hadn't heard her the first time.

The pilot was out of eyesight. But for some reason the woman was still hearing footsteps. They were coming from behind her, and odd enough, they were familiar.

They had this distinct pattern to them. A pattern in which she had recalled hearing before. 

As everything began to slowly piece together the woman's heart picked up pace. She had a good clue as to just who her mystery Samaritan might be.

The footsteps came to a hault and the person in question watched as the woman hesitantly turned around so that her eyes could meet with his.

The man was quite amused.

"Where else would I be [Y/n]?" Akabane grinned.

Chapter Text

-𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧-

❝【𝓚𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Cut me ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

[Y—/n] had gotten a good look at the man and it was definitely him. She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen but this was definitely not on the index. [Y/n] turned around in the other direction to flee. Karma however, grabbed ahold of the woman's wrist and turned her back to him.

"And just where are you running off to?" He smiled down at her.

[Y/n] looked up at the man. She was certainly not smiling with him. Just when she thought her shitty day was getting better, this happened. "I'm starting to think you have a really serious fucking problem Akabane." The woman had lost her cool. 

"Starting to think?" Karma was intrigued with the woman's choice of words. Matter of fact, her words brought him great satisfaction. "So up until now, it was never evident to you that I might possess a serious problem?" This was something that the woman was just now discovering?

[Y/n] gave the man a fierce gaze. She was rummaging around in the recesses of her thoughts for the right words to express what she was thinking, but to no avail.

Karma took notice of this, "For some reason, I get the feeling that you aren't too happy to see me." His smile dwindled. "Is that true?"

[Y/n]'s facial expression gave Karma all the answers he needed. "Guess so." It's not like he expected her to be happy about any of this to begin with. "Come. Let's go talk about it in the back. Our footing is about to change." Karma directed with no further explanation.

Unfortunately for the man, [Y/n] was not good at taking orders or being reasoned with. "Don't tell me what to-" irritated with her incompetence, Karma let go of his hold on [Y/n] and the aircraft lifted, causing [Y/n] to lose her balance. 

Before she allowed herself to topple over, she grasped onto Akabane for support, nearly taking him down with her. Fortunately for them both, he was able to endure the turbulence.

With a tinge of amusement, Karma cast a downward glance towards [Y/n]. She seemed much more desirable while she was clinging to him for dear life. "Come sit down." He instructed once more, seeing that she had probably learned from her previous mistakes.

When [Y/n] glared at him, he only responded with that characteristic grin of his. She hadn't let go of him yet. "Or do you really love clasping onto me that much?"

"Piss off." He was giving her a hard time. When [Y/n] was able to retain her standing, she'd let go. But in the meantime, she couldn't budge an inch. [Y/n] had no idea what the hell was in Karma's diet or why he was able to withstand all the friction, but she couldn't.

"Alright..," Akabane was quite the short-of-patience guy so he picked the woman up and tossed her over his shoulder, "Let's go." He began making his way to the back of the aircraft. The man was well over six feet tall so [Y/n] was hovering quite the distance. She made minimum effort of opposing in fear of being dropped. But she did resist to some extent.

Once inside the new compartment, Karma threw [Y/n] down onto one of the sofas. He didn't really care whether or not she got hurt to be frank. If a sofa was able to inflict damage onto her then the damage was well deserved.

Akabane sat on the sofa opposite to hers and kicked his feet up on the table. "Get up." He spoke to her harshly.

[Y/n] sat up at once and Akabane adjusted his posture as she did so. The perturbed woman locked eyes on him and he waited in silence for her to be the first to say something, but she remained mute. He raised his eyebrow at her and in turn she only mocked him. 

"You don't have anything to say to me?" Karma thought his guest would have been much more...vocal than what she currently was.

"No." Sure she could sit there and shout profanities at Akabane left right and center, matter of fact, she could curse him like a dog. But what purpose would that serve? [Y/n] could blame no one else but herself for the position she had yet again, been put into.

Akabane was sort of impressed by how quickly the woman accepted her defeat. "So you have no questions then? None at all?" This was sort of anticlimactic for him. He didn't go through all of this just to get such a gloomy response.

"No."

Karma looked at the woman and then chuckled. He could tell that she was unhinged by his reaction. "Okay." He put his feet down from the table and stood up.

"Except one." [Y/n] stopped the man from what she had assumed to be his departure.

"Ask me." He looked down at her from his standpoint.

"Our current agendas may now be different, but the path to our destination will be the same." She repeated the phrase from their first encounter. 

"That's not a question [Y/n]." He wasn't following.

"The path to our destination will be the same." She pointed out that part in particular.

Karma was quiet. He wanted to see if she had properly interpreted what he had told her.

"From the beginning it was a set up." She wasn't shocked. 

"Once again," Karma spoke in an uninterested manner, "That isn't a question [Y/n]."

"I'm getting there." She wasn't done. "Sit down." Karma sat down and the woman began to recall further.

"You never planned on meeting in Paris." She locked eyes with him. Karma said nothing in response, he just maintained the contact. "It was always going to be here."

"Your question." He urged her to get to the point.

"You're one theatrical son of a bitch. You conquer up all these elaborate schemes to attain things that have no real value. Your concept of thinking is fucked up. You're a neurotic bastard. You don't want to kill me, but I'm sure there's something much worst in store for me." The woman went on a rant. 

"Anything else you'd like to add onto that?" Karma inquired, unmoved by all she had said.

"Yeah. You're a misogynistic prick." [Y/n] took a piss at him. "So tell me Akabane. What do you really think of me?" That was her question to him.

"As a human or as a 'rival'?" He put special emphasis on the word rival.

"Both. But particularly the last." The way he said the word wasn't sitting well with her.

Akabane broke eyecontact and slouched back in his seat, not bothering to say a word. 

"Answer me." [Y/n] demanded of him.

"Answer you?" Akabane was irritated somewhat. 

Neither of them spoke after Karma did. [Y/n] could feel a sort of tension in the room, and she wasn't sure how Akabane would behave if she pressed further. He was an unpredictable man.

"Let me rebuttal that." Akabane gave her a petty glance. "Who do you think you are?"

"Me?" [Y/n] wouldn't let the man intimidate her. "I think that I'm quite the-"

"No." That wasn't what he meant. "You're in no position to be demanding anything from me." It was comical. "Who exactly do you think you are [Y/n]?" The woman's tune was not that of one who understood their position, nor their current circumstance.

"But since you want to know so badly, I'll tell you what I think of you." He had no problem in doing so. "You're below me." That is what he thought.

"Below you?" [Y/n] all but laughed.

"We are not equals. You're careless and naive. Gullible and easily manipulated. You lack real talent and you're unfit for such a warped career. With the exception of having perfect aim, you lack any noteworthy qualifications. I believe you wasted your life. You're not like the rest of us. It would do you well to find another calling." He gave the woman his honest opinion. "That is what I think of you."

"Another calling?" That was whimsical. "Like what?"

Akabane's facial expression shifted ever so slightly. "A mother maybe." It was a poor attempt at being funny.

"You think I'm weak. Don't you?" She went back to his previous statement.

"Both mentally and physically." He agreed.

"I'm not like the rest of you?" She scoffed. How stupid. "You're right. I'm better." What could a bunch of incompetent men do that she couldn't?

"Yeah?" Akabane reached into his pocket.

"Yeah." The woman monitored his movements carefully.

"Stand up." Karma instructed as he got up himself.

Stand up? "For what?" [Y/n] did as told, still keeping her gaze glued to his hands.

From his pocket the man pulled out a small and confined, piece of steel. He tossed it over to [Y/n] and luckily she caught it.

It was a pocket knife. In one swift motion the woman managed to free the blade from its compartment. She glanced down at the apparatus in confusion, and then back at the man.

"Cut me." Akabane instructed. "If you can, that is." 

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

Immediately [Y/n] took her stance. 

Karma began to back away ever so slowly. He managed to put a large amount of distance between the two of them and [Y/n] took notice of this.

"Going somewhere?"

"Nah, not really. No." Karma stepped to the side, turning his body perpendicular as he waited for the woman to make her first move.

[Y/n] charged at the man, knife in hand, but she was evaded. Akabane had managed to step out of her way. She then turned to face him again. She lunged at him but he grabbed ahold of her arm as she moved towards him.

Akabane use both of his hands to take ahold of [Y/n]'s arm and with a strong tug, Karma was able to use [Y/n]'s own momentum to throw her onto the ground, all while making sure to keep the knife pointed away from him.

From the ground [Y/n] stared up at the man. It all happened so fast. She wasn't able to pinpoint just where she went wrong.

Before she was able to say anything to him, there was a hand reaching down for her. She grabbed ahold of it and Karma helped her back up. "Again." He instructed.

There was no time to ask questions. With an upward motion she took the knife and plunged it towards him, trying to land an attack from beneath. 

With the blade of his hand Karma chopped into [Y/n]'s arm before she was able to land anything. It was done so forcefully that it pushed the woman's arm backwards. From there he grabbed ahold of it and pointed the knife away from himself. 

That was the last thing her body could process happening before it was slammed into a nearby hard surface. Karma had her pinned against a wall? And he kept applying pressure to her arm until she eventually couldn't bring herself to grip onto the knife any longer.

It fell from her hand, onto the ground, and was then kicked away by Karma into some unknown direction.

"Fucking hell." The woman seethed.

"Are you done?" He queried.

"No." [Y/n] hissed and Akabane let go of her in turn. He walked away to go retrieve his knife. "Again." He tossed it over to the woman, and she caught it with the hand that Karma had not previously bruised.

Karma once again waited for the woman to aimlessly charge him, but she didn't. She stood there, as if she was for the first time actually thinking. "You sure catch on quick." Karma commended.

"All I have to do is cut you..." she reiterated the instructions.

"Yeah."

"With this knife?"

"Yes."

"By any means necessary?" She pondered.

Akabane grinned ever so slightly. "By any means necessary." The woman had yet to realize his true intentions. He was slowly breaking her out of old habits. Her passionless means of assassination. He'd change them.

"I'm going to throw it at you." [Y/n] spoke blankly.

"Huh?" That caught Akabane completely offguard. "Why would you tell-"

Just as promised, before Akabane could even complete his sentence, there was a knife gliding full force towards him.

Only because of the fact that she had told him prior, he was able to dodge it to the slightest degree. 

"You've got to be kidding me." The man turned around to investigate the direction in which the knife was thrown, his back completely turned to the woman.

"Where'd you throw it?" He turned back around to question her, but she was gone. "Ohh shit." It didn't take longer than a second for the man to realize he really fucked up.

Now his back was fully facing the direction in which the knife went, he no longer had any interest in its whereabouts. His only interest was where [Y/n] could have disappeared to. Karma had fucked up greatly. He let his guard down.

It hadn't been that long, she couldn't have went far.

Akabane had some idea of what the woman was trying to pull off, and he was undeniably impressed. But because he knew what she was trying to pull, that meant it would never happen. Well, atleast not in the way she wanted it to. She'd have to compromise her plans midway.

"Attacking from behind?" He acknowledged just seconds before the cold and metallic feeling of his blade was blessed tightly against his neck.

Karma clicked his tongue. "How cowardly."

"Any means necessary..." She reminded.

[Y/n] felt the man's throat contract just a little. He was grinning. "What ever happened to your conventional means...?" He also reminded. "Have you forsaken them?" The man provoked, and it worked because [Y/n] froze a bit.

"N-no." She hadn't. "I'm not going to kill you like this." She just needed to cut him and that would prove her point right? That she wasn't some weak and helpless little girl. That she was just as suited for this industry as any other man right? 

That was the reason she had done all of this.

[Y/n]'s guard had completed dropped, just as Akabane anticipated. "Sorry killer, this isn't anything personal." With a free hand, he clasped onto the one that was holding a knife to his neck, and gripped onto it tightly, making sure that his attacker was unable to make any sudden movements.

With just brute strength alone he was able to overpower her and get the knife away from any vital parts of his body. He turned his body around to face her, and with one swift motion of his foot, he swooped it beneath hers and was able to offset her footing.

The woman fell backwards, and Karma traveled along side her, placing his knee inbetween both her legs and pinning the hand holding the weapon above her head. She was completely immobilized.

"Careless and naive." He smiled down and the woman below him. 

[Y/n] said nothing in response. She just harshly returned his gaze.

Karma granted the woman another chance with the words, "I'll tell you what. If you can find a way to swap our positioning I might consider you to be someone I shouldn't take lightly."

[Y/n] turned her head to the side, breaking their gaze completely. 

"You're stronger than me." Karma spoke. "That's what you're thinking right?" She couldn't overpower and pin him.

"Strength doesn't come from physical capacity. It comes from indomitable will." Karma declared. "So show me...What are you willing to do to emerge victorious in the end [Y/n]?" 

[Y/n] picked her gaze up, and looked at the man. She gave his question some thought and ultimately felt a bit defeated. There was only one thing she could think of doing that would successfully get her out of this situation.

Karma hadn't pinned her other hand, so it was free to wander wherever it pleased.

The moment [Y/n] lifted her hand, Akabane's eyes swiftly followed. He could have easily fastened it back down, but he decided to let it go because he was a little interested in what the woman had in mind.

The hand came dangerously close to his face, and Karma braced himself for impact because he was almost positive the woman had intended on hitting him. But she didn't. Instead, she firmly grasped onto his throat. 

"An attempt at strangulation?" He chuckled. How pitiful. 

But [Y/n] wasn't strangling him at all. Karma looked down at the woman in confusion, but her expression was impenetrable.

Her hand left his throat, and traveled down to his collar. From there she grabbed ahold of his tie and tugged him down towards her.

Akabane wasn't sure how he felt right now. But one thing was for certain. [Y/n] had successfully evaded his mind from whatever was previously going on. "What's happening right now..?" He questioned. 

They were dangerously close.

[Y/n] cupped his face and Akabane allowed himself to be pulled in. She kissed him. But he still refused to let his guard completely down. This was far too strange.

The man trusted his intuition and pulled away.

He monitored the woman for a reaction and she seemed saddened by his refusal. "I must've gotten the wrong impre-" [Y/n] began to apologize for her previous antics but Akabane leaned back in and silenced the woman.

So what if she was taunting him? This was pretty exciting.

Chapter Text

-𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗘-

❝【𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 & 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  [Y/n]... ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙮 ↲ ✗

A—kabane was on top of the woman still pinning her hand, and still limiting her range of motion. All the while kissing her.

[Y/n] took her free hand and kind of pushed him back a bit. She was trying to free up some space so that she could sit up. But Karma only grinned.

He had caught on already. This was [Y/n]'s attempt at changing their positions, and it was a darn good one at that. 

He wouldn't let her pull it off. Not this easily. If this was the method she had chosen then she'd have to try a bit harder than that. None of this softcore stuff was enough to distract him from what was originally taking place.

[Y/n] was trying to get him to drop his defenses. From there she'd try to get on top of him and switch their current standings. That was her goal. 

All he had to do was focus on keeping her beneath him.

He thought it would be an easy feat. That was until [Y/n] let go of her grip on the knife so that he would free her other hand. 

Karma knew [Y/n] couldn't overpower him even with both hands and she no longer had the hazard that he was keeping such a keen eye on, so he let her be.

With both of her hands being free, [Y/n] tugged at the man's dress shirt, but it was caught in his pants. She couldn't get it loose.

Akabane completely dropped his guard. He sat up to unbuckle his belt, taking his gaze away from the woman and in turn freeing his shirt. [Y/n] smiled at him in response when he finally did look at her.

"Come here." She pulled him back down with one hand by his tie and began undoing his shirt from the bottom, up.  Akabane couldn't see what was going on below him, but he didn't need to.

"Why are you smiling?" Karma smiled back down at her.

"Because you're just as naive as I am." She hummed, still unbuttoning his shirt.

"What do you mean?" He chuckled.

"Don't you feel that?" She examined before dragging her hand gently up his stomach to trace over the center line of his abdomen. No. It wasn't her hand. There was a cold and sharp feeling.

"What?" There was a slight itch coming from his abdomen, and then it began to burn. Karma hissed before putting his hand down to his stomach. When he brought it back up to examine, there was blood. Not an excessive amount, but he was still bleeding nonetheless. 

Akabane looked around and he no longer saw the knife. The man was so focused on their positioning being switched that he completely forgot about the fact that she might've still been set on cutting him.

"You cut me?" He queried.

"Clearly." 

Akabane got off of the woman and stood up to further assess himself. He peered down at his stomach, and thankfully he had only received a small scratch. Well, at-least, that's what he considered it to be. 

"What?" [Y/n] sat upright now that the man's weight was finally off of her. "Didn't think that I could pull it off?" She felt great pride in her achievement.

Karma gazed down at the woman. His expression wasn't one of anger, nor confusion. He was just looking. "You've got to be kidding." Was all he said before he began fixing himself.

"What?" She wasn't following.

"All that for a scratch?" Karma had fixed his pants but when it came to buttoning his shirt back up, he took it off completely. "Was it worth it?" He questioned.

[Y/n]'s eyes locked onto his chest. "Hmm.." she tilted her head to the side. "I think so, yeah." It wasn't much, but it was definitely something.

It was the first blemish she was able to create.

"I think you just wanted an excuse to makeout." That was some pretty serious tongue action. "Could've just asked." He would have agreed. Probably..

[Y/n] laughed. "Was it enough to answer your question?"

"My question? Which one." He got many answers from her previous performance.

"My willingness." She answered.

"Your willingness to sleep with me?" He taunted. "Definitely did."

"My willingness to win Akabane." The woman glared.

"Oh. Yeah...." He completely forgot about that. "Welp." Karma slung his shirt across his shoulder and walked off. "Something just came up." He would be leaving now.

"Stay here." He instructed. "And don't come looking for me."

"You're joking right." He couldn't have seriously been planning on leaving her unattended. 

"Wish I was." He continued walking off. "But I'm not."

[Y/n] got up and tried following him, "You're insane."

Akabane stopped walking. "I'm going to my room to do things. By myself." He hoped that she'd get the hint. "Stay out here on the couch and don't try any bullshit until I get back." He'd come back to continue where they left off once he was done with his business. 

Karma couldn't think properly with all these uncalculated variables that were brought into play.

Akabane left the girl in the lounge room, both unsettled and confused. What purpose was she supposed to serve if he wasn't going to kill her and most importantly why wasn't he killing her?

Many questions were left unanswered, but now was not the time to let all of these thoughts weigh down on her. She was alone on Akabane's property. It was in her best interest to make the most of such a rare occasion.

The woman allowed a few minutes to pass by and after she felt that her counterpart was settled in, she made her move.

Not being able to fight her curiosity, the woman walked in the same direction that Karma had disappeared off too. The aircraft was excessively large. So much so, that she believed it's owner must have been pulling money out of his asshole when making the purchase.

Akabane was only a single person. An aircraft of this caliber was unnecessary. The only logical explanation for having it would be if it was his place of residence, and she didn't doubt that theory one bit. It made perfect sense for Akabane to live on an airplane.

It would also explain why he was so hard to locate all this time.

As [Y/n] walked further down the space she dragged her hand along the walls. Her fingers didn't collect much dust. That meant that there must've been someone else on board at some point. A maid perhaps, or another sort of cleaning service had previously been provided.

How did she know? Easy, it couldn't have been Akabane cleaning up after himself. Men didn't pay attention to such petty details.

As she ventured out, there was a small desk in her path. On the desk was a little black box. Naturally she picked it up to inspect it. On the inside was a costly looking piece of jewelry.

So she was right. Another woman was here. It would be wrong of [Y/n] to leave such a valuable item just knocking about. With that in mind, she did what any other woman would do.

She slipped the ring into her pocket for safe keeping.

[Y/n] placed the empty box back onto the table and kept moving. Perhaps she'd find some more souvenirs along the way.

There were no other valuable finds as she wandered, but there was however a room. She grabbed hold on the handle and turned it, and to her surprise it opened.

The theme of the room was quite different from the rest of the airplane's interior. The colors were dark and obscure, unlike the neutrals used all throughout.

With a flick of the light switch, [Y/n] tried to illuminate the room. Unfortunately that didn't work out to well. The room was still quite dim. Not like it mattered much. The only things inside were a monitor, a desk and a chair.

Welcoming herself inside, [Y/n] sat down in the chair and made herself comfortable. The place felt so sombre.

Paying no mind to anything else, she turned the monitor on. It had no passcode, nor any other security systems so it unlocked completely, exposing the last viewed screen.

The woman looked at the screen, and it took a few seconds for everything to register. Once everything had clicked inside her head she leaned back a bit, still not bothering to take her eyes off of what she was viewing.

"..."

It was a recording of her empty bedroom. 

She knew it. 

With not a second more to spare the woman got up. She knew it. She wasn't a hundred percent sure, but she always had a feeling. Now she didn't feel stupid for threatening that stuffed bear.

How else could he have known where she'd be today? This was all too coincidental. He'd been watching her the entire time.

[Y/n] left the room in search for Akabane. She had a few things that she would have liked to say to him.

Finding him would be a bit of a challenge since she didn't know which room he was in, but if it came down to it she would venture every single one until she found him. A foolproof plan if anyone asked her.

Once she reached the corridor there were these sounds coming from further down the hallway. The noise was something she couldn't quite distinguish just yet and because of this, [Y/n] decided to follow it. Her and Akabane were the only two people on the plane so it must've been him.

The closer she got to the source, the more comprehensible the noises became. They were groans.

The man was in pain. It appears that [Y/n] wounded him more severely than she had anticipated. But earlier, he handled it so well. She wouldn't have suspected a thing if she hadn't heard for herself.

Wanting to gather more intel she followed the noise closer.

[Y/n] came face to face with the door that she presumed to be his room. Well, it was where all the sounds were coming from. She distinctly remember Akabane telling her not to come looking for him but that only made her want to find him more. He should've known better.

"[Y/n]..." She heard him call out from the other end of the door. 

Annoyed that she had already been found out, [Y/n] opened the door and invited herself in.

"How'd you know I was-" The woman's train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt while looking at the scene before her.

Karma was on the edge of the bed with one hand grasping onto his sheets and the other wrapped around his.....well, yeah, eagerly guiding it up and down his shaft.

"Oh my God!" She turned around. "Sorry!"

Akabane was somewhat annoyed with the woman's inability to follow simple instructions. He specifically told her not to come looking for him.

"I didn't know you were busy doing..this." She explained.

Any reasonable person would feel humiliated they were caught and stop. They'd make up some excuse for what they were doing, or even apologize for getting walked in on. But no. Not Akabane. He just kept going. [Y/n] knew this because she heard his groans continue.

He wasn't going to stop now. The fact that she was in the room made things a little awkward, but who cares? He was going to finish.

"You might as well turn back around." Akabane spoke. She'd already seen everything anyways. What sense did that make? 

It was confirmed. Akabane was absolutely out of his mind. "Turn around??" He could hear within the woman's voice that she was ticked off. [Y/n] turned to look the man in his eyes, trying her best to ignore anything below it. "Are you fucking cra-" It didn't work out for her. She caught a glimpse of it.

Karma grinned. [Y/n] tried to pick her gaze back up to maintain eye contact like nothing happened, but it was a bit too late for that.

"Care to help me out?" If she wasn't going to leave then she might as well lend a helping hand—or two. "You caused it you know." He was referring to his erection.

"Go fuck yourself." It was a definite no.

He figured. 

Akabane didn't take the refusal personal, infact, he went back to what he was doing. Completely ignoring her presence.

With a slow and steadfast motion, he continued guiding his right hand up and down his shaft. He was in no rush.

The man had no shame. Even though [Y/n] was right in front of him he continued pleasuring himself.

In order to intensify his ecstasy, he ran his thumb over the slit of his tip and pressed it down. He then clenched the sheets even more, stifling any sounds that may have otherwise come out.

Despite his efforts to hide it, Akabane was nonetheless acutely aware of the woman's observation. He didn't want to make too many noises, which is why he was stifling them. Otherwise, he'd be embarrassed.

He started stroking with expectation of ejaculating. While doing so he touched the frenulum of his penis very lightly, which made it twitch in response.

The woman was weirded out by it; the fact that it moved on it own.

"Pervert." Karma had to take his time speaking because his breathing was labored and he didn't want to lose concentration. However, he still felt the need to let her know that he was aware of the fact that she had not yet turned away from the sinful actions taking place below eye level.

"I'm the pervert?"

Hearing her voice gave him some ideas.

Instead of avoiding eye-contact like he was previously doing, he picked his head up and looked at the woman instead. They locked eyes for a brief second before [Y/n] got overwhelmed and looked away.

She didn't want him, to watch her, watch him.

That didn't matter to Karms. He was still looking at her. Infact, subconsciously the man found himself going faster.

He was jerking off to her?

The man stop suppressing his groans in hopes of gaining the woman's attention. He wanted her to look at him. "F-fuck..." he hissed under his breath.

It worked. He did gain the woman's attention. [Y/n] knew she shouldn't be looking, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

The sound of his hands slapping up and down his dick filled the room. That and the awkward silence on her end.

Being observed by [Y/n] didn't make Akabane feel uncomfortable. And he didn't give a damn about how any of this made her feel. It could have been avoided if she minded her business like he told her to.

A light chill traveled the throughout the man's body, and he felt his scrotum tighten. "Shit.." He tossed his head back. Akabane found his pace was gradually slowing down in an attempt to draw out the inevitable.

With a drawn out groan, Karma's breathing grew shaky and it didn't take long for him to finish. His semen shot upwards, and when it came down it was a tacky mess. It went on his chest, the sheets, the carpet, everywhere. It was pure disarray.

Karma smiled to himself. He was proud. But then the look on [Y/n]'s face snapped him back to reality and the second hand embarrassment almost got a second to seep in. But he refused to embrace it.

"What are you looking at?" He grinned. "Show's over." Akabane leaned back onto his bed.

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓚𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓪, 𝓘'𝓶 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  I'll get you all 

warmed up ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

S—he froze. It was well within her desire to walk out and leave the room after having seen all she did but the woman was simply frozen.

She's supposed to be an assassin for godsake. She's seen worst. Much worst. Brains, blood, and the sight of life leaving someone's eyes were all casual. Yet a man masterbating was enough to put her in a state of shock.

[Y/n] was alone in the lounge area of the plane rethinking everything that had gotten her to this current moment.

From an outside perspective it may have seemed like she was simply stupid. But from her point of view things never seemed to instantly click.

This was different. Her whole career up until now had been a walk in a park. She had lived a normal life up until all this. She was a world class executioner yes. One of the best in the business sure. But that was because of the simple fact that she always got the job done. Nothing more was required of her than to simply take a shot.

That's all.

All of these other unnecessary things had never been required of her. 

Akabane was bringing a new range of confusion into her life. Was this all an elaborate attempt to force her into becoming better? Into becoming someone he deemed worthy enough to oppose him?

Or was the man simply just bullshitting her and doing everything for shits, giggles and the sake of it?

[Y/n] didn't know what the fuck she was feeling.

Why didn't he have the decency to stop? He just...kept going. He looked at her. Dead in the eyes. He called her fucking name. She knew he was sick but not to that extent.

Dark had fallen and she still couldn't get her mind off of it. She hadn't seen the man since. 

It was engraved in her mind. Every-time she closed her eyes all she could see was Karma...hand-fucking himself.

[Y/n] started to feel that tingly shivering feeling once more and rubbed her hands up and down her thighs.

No, it wasn't because of the reasons you might think. She was simply cold. The woman had been freezing for the past three hours and was far too uncomfortable to go peering around for a blanket. She'd even layered up but to no avail.

The cold was quite frankly unbearable. She wasn't sure how the temperature had dropped so drastically. This was absolute torture.

[Y/n] refused to let pride kill her. If she wanted a blanket then she'd simply have to go get one. What would Karma do about it? Surely not kill her? In fact, he would probably do anything but that.

Pushing her pride to the side [Y/n] got up and made her way to his room. She vividly remembered the whereabouts so she was there in no time.

It was quiet inside, and the door was closed. [Y/n] had learned her lesson from the previous incident this morning. She felt the need to knock. But yet again why should Akabane deserve the privileges of respect or privacy?

She opened the door and invited herself inside. If he was doing something he shouldn't be doing then it wouldn't matter. She's seen all he has to offer.

The room was dark so she began searching around for a light switch. [Y/n] flicked the light on and she saw movement from the bed.

The sheets were a darker colour than she remembered, he must've changed them.

Akabane had pulled the covers over his face to shield his eyes from the light. "Can I help you?" He was annoyed and tired.

"It's fucking freezing," the woman complained.

"So you came to beg to get in bed with me?" He finished her sentence for her with even more annoyance. Akabane was well aware of the change in temperature. "I'm flattered but I'll pass."

"Where do you keep the blankets?" Once she got one she'd be out of his hair.

"Up my ass." He dismissed her.

"Stop being an asshole and tell me," she wasn't going to let him run over her. "I can't hold out any longer." The cold was making her extremely uncomfortable.

"What the hell does that have to do with me again?" He mumbled from beneath the comfort of his own covers.

"You're the owner of this aircraft. It has everything to do with you," She'd make him interested. 

Akabane was really starting to regret bringing [Y/n] with him. With a groan of the utmost annoyance he removed the covers from his face and sat upright. "Well shit." The blankets were right there so she could've just taken one and leave, no need to wake him up.

Karma was well-rested so he got up out of his bed. It was then that he got a good look at the woman. She had changed into her pajamas. He broke into a fit of laughter. "Jesus Christ, [Y/n]." Her clothes always gave him a good laugh. "You look like...you." It was an insult.

She paid him no mind and made her way over to his bed. Since he wouldn't give her any blankets she'd take his instead. His blankets were big and fluffy. They also smelled of detergent so that must've meant they were clean.

"Make yourself comfortable." He didn't care. "Hope you and my kids get along nicely." He joked and [Y/n] put the blankets right back where she got them from. 

"I should've snuck in and killed you while you were sleeping," She began to regret her approach.

"You're saying that to me like I was the one that stopped you." Could've, should've, didn't.  "But if it makes you feel better I left the door unlocked for you to."

Akabane watched as the sharp-mouthed girl opened her mouth to rebuttal but close it afterwards with nothing to say in response.

"That's a first," The man was quite amused. She always had something to say to him in response. "Welp, I'm hungry. Let's go." The man left the room. Whether or not the woman followed was completely up to her.

She did.

"You're awfully obedient all the sudden." He was sensing a pattern here. "I'll tell you what..." he grinned ever so slightly, "After we're done eating, I'll get you all warmed up. Deal?" 

Something about the way he said it didn't really sit right with her.

Chapter Text

-𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓢𝓴𝓮𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓼𝓶】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Bring your aggressive 

ass back here ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

A—s Karma led [Y/n] into the dining area of the plane, the tension crackled in the air like static electricity—thick with animosity and some other unregistered feelings.

Her motive was getting lost. They were growing far too casual. She shouldn't have been allowing herself to grow so familiar with the man. But yet what could she do? She was backed into a corner here.

With a mocking smirk, Karma gestured towards the table and chairs, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Welcome to my humble abode," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Is this is where you entertain your guests," [Y/n] remarked, her voice dripping with disdain as she took a seat, reluctantly.

Karma flashed a smug grin, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Something like that." He replied.

As Karma rummaged through cabinets and drawers, [Y/n] couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The thought of Karma preparing a meal for her didn't sit right at all. 

She'd have to keep an extremely keen eye on him.

"So, what's on the menu today? Poison, perhaps?" [Y/n] quipped, unable to resist the urge to provoke Akabane. "Or are you going to drug me?"

"Yup." He answered with the utmost seriousness and the woman's face went pale. "Nah I'm just messing with you." He laughed it off, "I save the poison for special occasions."

[Y/n] watched Akabane like a hawk. Her gaze never left his form for one singular second as he began his culinary charade. 

Despite the woman's disdain for the man before her, she couldn't deny the curiosity that gnawed at her insides.

With exaggerated flair, Karma rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients with a flourish. His movements were deliberate, each motion was a carefully choreographed performance meant to captivate his audience of one.

"So, little miss assassin," Karma's voice cut through the silence, his eyes glinting with mischief as he caught [Y/n]'s gaze, "Care to join me in my culinary escapades?"

[Y/n] bristled at the suggestion and her lips curled up into a scowl. "I'll pass," she replied curtly.

Undeterred, Karma continued his theatrics, chopping and sautéing with practiced ease. He moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance and each action he made was a calculated display of his culinary prowess.

As [Y/n] watched, her guard remained firmly in place. Her senses were on high alert for any signs of deception. But Karma seemed to revel in the attention, his movements becoming more exaggerated with each passing moment.

Finally, Karma turned around, holding a plate with a dish that looked suspiciously normal. "Bon appétit, my love," he said with a smile, setting the plate down in front of [Y/n].

"I'm not your love." [Y/n] said straight faced as she picked up the spoon. Her stomach churned with apprehension. The woman couldn't help but wonder what fresh hell Karma had served this food from.

"Here," She pushed the plate back over to him. "You eat some first." She was playing it safe, even though she was quite positive he'd done nothing to it.

"I'm allergic." Karma counteracted.

"No you're not." Akabane wasn't allergic to anything.

"How would you know?" He raised an eyebrow at the woman.

"Because you made the food dip-shit." If he was allergic then he couldn't have done so. He would have had an allergic reaction.

She got him.

"That's true." He gave in and sat down on the chair beside her.

"Feed me," he got comfortable and opened his mouth.

[Y/n] took the plastic spoon and slowly brought it to his mouth, and then shoved it down his throat causing the man to gag. 

He grabbed her wrist tightly to stop her from throat fucking him with the spoon. 

"What the fuck!?" he was still choking.

"Oops." She mocked.

He snatched the spoon from the woman. "Give me this shit," he also took the food from her.

"You've lost eating privileges." He'd eat it all himself and she'd just have to starve tonight.

[Y/n] watched in disbelief as Karma greedily consumed the meal. It was then that she realized that maybe she shouldn't have done that. The feeling of hunger desperately began to gnaw away at the woman's stomach. She was left to suffer the consequences of her own defiance.

But just as [Y/n] resigned herself to a night of hunger, Karma's demeanor shifted. He extended the plate towards [Y/n], a silent challenge hanging in the air.

Realization dawned on [Y/n] as she hesitated, caught off guard by Karma's sudden change of heart.

Before [Y/n] could fully process the situation, Karma seized the opportunity to assert his dominance. "Open your mouth," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous as he held a spoonful of food inches from [Y/n]'s lips.

Reluctantly, [Y/n] complied, her jaw clenched in defiance as she braced herself for the inevitable humiliation. But to her surprise, Karma's touch was surprisingly gentle as he fed her.

He smiled, and took the spoon to collect some more food. But just when [Y/n] began to let her guard down, Karma's demeanor shifted once again. With a swift motion, his gentleness was replaced with force as he shoved the spoon down [Y/n]'s throat, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

"Oops," he taunted, the word dripping with malice. Unlike him however, the woman did not choke. She simply gripped ahold of the man's hand out of reflex to stop him.

Akabane pulled his hand back and then proceeded to gaze at the woman with the utmost concern. "That's interesting..." He spoke aloud.

[Y/n] was upset so she moved one chair over. "I'm killing you in your sleep tonight. Get the fuck away from me."

"Bring your aggressive ass back here," Karma grinned, and pulled her chair back in front of him. "You didn't finish your food," he didn't spend all that time in the kitchen for nothing.

[Y/n] scooted over again so she wouldn't have to be so close to him. The food was actually good but Karma kept watching her as she ate. Specifically her mouth.

"You got quite the mouth on you," he wasn't just talking about her dirty vocabulary.

"Yeah. I've got a nice pair of teeth too." She reminded him.

It went quiet after that, and he continued to watch as the woman ate.

[Y/n] had enough of his strange behavior. "Do you want some Akabane?" she offered. 

"Nah." he declined. "My esophagus still hurts."

His esophagus hurts? "How do you think I feel?" he did the same exact thing to her.

[Y/n] seemed fine to him. Besides, she was a woman. This was child's play to her. He was confident much bigger things had been down her throat. Him? Not so much.

"My bad," he shrugged. "You thirsty?" He didn't sound too apologetic.

She raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps.." [Y/n] eyed him warily, instinctively recoiling from his proximity. Trusting Karma was like playing with fire.

But Akabane persisted, his gaze unwavering as he  went into the refrigerator and extended two options towards [Y/n]: a bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade. "Take your pick," he said with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with trouble.

Despite her reservations, [Y/n] hesitated, torn between her thirst and her distrust of Akabane. She knew better than to accept anything from him without caution, but the allure of quenching her parched throat was too tempting to resist.

With a calculated glint in his eyes, Akabane leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "The water is quite refreshing," he remarked, his tone laced with a hidden agenda.

[Y/n] narrowed her eyes, acutely aware of the danger lurking beneath Karma's charming façade. She knew better than to trust him, but the throbbing ache in her throat begged for relief.

Was he saying that the water was refreshing to throw her off and pick the Gatorade? Or was it an elaborate scheme to make her doubt herself and still pick the water anyways? Akabane was an elaborate man, and she wasn't sure what she should think.

"Here," he placed both bottles in the front of her, opened them, took a sip and swallowed. "See, all safe."

One was for him, and the other for her.

"Here," he gave her the water.

She looked at him and back at the water.

He took his Gatorade and was about to take another sip when the woman took it from him and handed him the water instead.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." She drank the Gatorade.

After reaching the half mark, she started to realize it didn't really have an enjoyable taste. It was bitter, and nasty.

"What flavor is this?" She questioned as her face contoured in disgust.

"Uhh, grape?" he sipped on her bottle of water.

She had already drank all of it and now she was complaining? 

"I don't like it," she handed the nearly empty bottle back to him.

"Seriously." What was he supposed to do with this? Eat it?

Akabane tossed the bottle into a nearby garbage can and headed to his room.

"I told you the water was refreshing." She should have listened.

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘-

❝【𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓼】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  It was the Gatorade

wasn't it? ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

"Y—ou coming or not?" It was an invitation from Akabane to [Y/n], to follow him into his room. "You're still cold right?" He reminded her.

She was.

"I told you I'd get you all warmed up. Remember?" He reminded and it was almost as though he was hinting at something.

"I just want a blanket. After that I'm gone." She had no interest in playing along with whatever he had in mind.

Leading her to his room, he gestured for her to make herself comfortable on the bed while he fetched a couple of blankets.

As he draped the blankets over her, he couldn't resist the urge to tease. "You know, if you ever need anything else to keep you warm, you know where to find me." His tone was suggestive, accompanied by a playful wink.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious." He flashed her a charming grin. "Anything you need, don't hesitate to ask." His words were laced with a hint of flirtation.

She had no interest in entertaining his offers or indulging in his suggestive banter. Her priority was simply finding comfort and escaping the chill that had settled into her bones. So, with a determined stride, she left his room behind.

[Y/n] was on her merry-go-way to sleep on the couch. Far, far, farr away from Akabane.

"I'll leave the door open for you!" He yelled from the room as she left.

As [Y/n] settled onto the couch, her mind buzzed with confusion. What was Akabane's deal anyway? His flirtatious demeanor and suggestive comments left her feeling bemused. What exactly were his true intentions? She couldn't decipher them.

Shrugging off his advances, she focused on making herself comfortable, arranging the blankets just right and trying to ignore the lingering chill in the air.

But as the moments passed, a strange sensation began to stir within her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. 

It started as a subtle warmth spreading through her body, accompanied by a fluttering sensation in her stomach. She shifted restlessly on the couch, unable to shake the feeling.

Something was stirring deep within her.

With each passing second, the sensation grew stronger, morphing into a primal longing that sent shivers down her spine. It was as if a dormant desire had been awakened, surging to the surface with an intensity she couldn't ignore. 

Despite her best efforts to push it aside, the allure lingered in her mind, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't extinguish.

Torn between confusion and desire, [Y/n] found herself grappling with emotions she had never experienced before—well atleast not this strongly.

What was happening to her? This feeling was something far out of the ordinary for her, and especially at a time like this.

Previously chilled to the bone, the woman now found herself enveloped in a newfound warmth, coursing through her entire being. Sitting upright, she marveled at how the icy sensation that had gripped her just moments ago had melted away into oblivion. Instead, she was now ablaze with an intense heat, as if flames were licking at her skin.

"Akabane!" She screamed out. She knew it was his doing. Anything out of the ordinary always seemed to be his doing, and she had a gut feeling that this was no exception.

The man didn't answer.

But her accusations fell on deaf ears. The man remained silent and his absence only fueled her frustration. Determined to get to the bottom of this, she rose from the couch, and made her way to his room, ready to confront him.

To her surprise, as she pushed open the door, there sat Akabane, perched on the edge of the bed, wearing an amused grin that stretched from ear to ear. "You warm enough yet?"

She went quiet, and Akabane took that as a definite yes. It was that deathly kind of silence.

"I knew you did something to me." She finally replied. 

Almost an hour had went by since she ate dinner with Karma and ever since she'd been feeling...warm. 

Akabane rose from the bed and sauntered over to [Y/n], his playful demeanor in full swing. "Did I?" He teased, a smirk dancing on his lips as he closed the distance between them.

Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "Feeling a little hot under the collar, are we?" His words dripped with amusement as he teased her mercilessly.

Akabane chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly down her arm as he guided her towards the bed. "Well, why don't you lay down and let me take care of that little problem of yours?" He joked, his tone laced with innuendo. "I'm not full yet you know. I can eat a little more tonight."

The woman's entire body felt hot and tingly. With a desperate squeeze of her thighs, she attempted to quell the sensation, but it persisted.

"What did you give me?" For her to even have considered getting on that bed in the first place must've meant something was terribly wrong.

"Basically female viagra," he had no shame. He saw a ton of videos about these pink pills on the internet and decided to see if they actually worked. She was kind of like his little guinea pig.

"It was the Gatorade wasn't it." She realized where she went wrong.

"Ding ding." She got it right.

"How many did you give me?" Talking was the only thing keeping her from losing all self-control. Especially with Karma so close.

"Three," he was happy to answer her questions as long as she answered his.

"That's too much! I'm burning up." She lectured the man.

With a sly grin, Karma approached the bed and gently pulled [Y/n] down beside him. "How about you just lay on me and complain?" he suggested, his tone laced with a playful flirtation. 

As [Y/n] settled beside him, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lingered on him. "It's getting really hot in here," he remarked, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. In truth, he wasn't feeling particularly warm, but he knew the effect it would have on her.

Leaning back against the pillows, he watched as her gaze traveled over his exposed chest, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He was well aware of the game he was playing

"What are you playing shy for?" Karma chuckled, his voice low and teasing as he watched [Y/n] hesitantly beside him. With a playful glint in his eyes, he reached out for her hand, gently placing it on his lower abdomen, urging her to relax and get comfortable.

"Come on," he coaxed, his touch light and inviting. "You're burning up right?"

"Like I'd ever want to touch you willingly." Her tune was punctuated by a scoff.

Karma chuckled. Despite her words, she hadn't made any move to retract her hand or distance herself from the comfort of his chest.

"Yeah alright then." He wasn't the one in agony here. "Whenever you're ready you let me know."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓐𝓼𝓴 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓲𝓿𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Tell me what you

want.  ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙮? ↲ ✗

A—kabane lied in bed beneath [Y/n] silent. His stoic demeanor had remained unchanged. He was acutely aware of [Y/n]'s attempts to draw him in, her subtle movements weren't at all escaping his notice. 

However, he refused to indulge in this game of cat and mouse. If she wanted something from him, she would have to be forthright about it.

"You seem restless," Akabane remarked, his voice low and steady. He could sense the tension radiating from her, her silent pleas spoke volumes.

"I'm fine," she replied. But even she knew her words lacked conviction.

Akabane lifted a brow, his gaze piercing through her facade. "If you want something, [Y/n], you only need to ask."

"I'm fine," she repeated, her voice stronger this time, but it was clear she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

Realizing that their current situation wasn't leading anywhere, Akabane decided to take matters into his own hands to expedite the process. "You know," he began, his tone playful as he sat up in bed, "I think I'm starting to feel hot too."

With deliberate grace, he rose from the bed, giving the woman a good view of the contours of his muscular chest. [Y/n]'s gaze lingered on him with undisguised admiration.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice a playful lilt as he caught her admiring glance. He knew the effect his display was having on her, and he intended to capitalize on it.

With a mischievous grin, Akabane turned away from [Y/n] momentarily, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his toned back as he reached for the waistband of his pants. With a slow, deliberate movement, he hooked his thumbs into the fabric and began to ease them down. 

With a smirk, Akabane glanced over his shoulder as he took off his pants. "Just so you know," he remarked casually, "I usually sleep in my underwear. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to leave... my room." He emphasized the possessive pronoun.

[Y/n] met his gaze head-on. While maintaining the eye contact, she too began undressing from her clothes. "Me too," she stated simply, her tone somewhat challenging his own.

Akabane's eyebrow quirked in amusement at her boldness, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, well," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "Looks like we're both on the same page then."

Karma took a step closer, his eyes were fixed intently on [Y/n]'s body. There was a boldness in his gaze, an unapologetic hunger that he didn't bother to disguise.

With deliberate steps, he closed the distance between them, his gaze roaming shamelessly over her form clad in nothing but her undergarments. 

There was this palpable intensity in the air. Akabane ogled at her unabashedly, his desire laid bare for her to see. He couldn't, no, he refused to tear his gaze away.

And [Y/n], although acutely aware of his scrutiny, found herself strangely exhilarated by his unabashed appraisal. There was a rawness to his gaze, a primal need that ignited something within her. 

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his words cutting through the charged atmosphere like a knife.

With a surge of courage, [Y/n] pulled the man over her until there was barely an inch separating their bodies. Leaning in close, she whispered her answer, her voice barely above a breath. "You," she confessed, her words hanging between them like a promise.

A cocky grin spread across Akabane's face. "Which part of me?" Their noses were nearly touching.

"All of you," [Y/n] could no longer deny herself and as if on cue Karma captured her mouth in his with a hungry intensity.

Akabane couldn't help but ponder the nature of human emotions. Were they merely fleeting impulses, easily swayed by the whims of desire? Or did they run deeper, rooted in complexities beyond his understanding?

As he pressed his lips against the woman beneath him, the memory of her vehement hatred towards him resurfaced, juxtaposed with her current surrender to lust. 

The clarity of her motives were slowly dissolving into ambiguity. 

It served as a profound realization for him—all emotions, no matter their intensity, could be momentarily overridden. 

While he had always intellectually understood this concept, witnessing it unfold before his eyes added new depths to his comprehension.

Or perhaps he hadn't given her a good enough reason to truly hate him yet? 

"Touch me," [Y/n] brought the man from his thoughts and back to their present predicament.

"Barking orders so crudely?" He wasn't satisfied with the woman's tune. "Ask nicely, killer."

[Y/n] seized his hand and guided it to her bra . "Touch me," she reiterated, echoing her previous demand.

It seemed as though Akabane was left with no other choice but to listen. The man's hand began to explore beneath [Y/n]'s bra. With gentle yet confident fingers, he fondled her breast.

[Y/n] hummed softly at the sensation, her body arching instinctively towards his touch.

Akabane withdrew his mouth from hers, his lips tracing a path along her jawline before settling on her neck. With a tender touch, he began to explore the delicate skin, alternating between gentle kisses and playful nibbles.

[Y/n] took ahold of his hand from her breast and brought it down to the place that most needed his attention the most. 

Karma's face betrayed a mix of conflict and uncertainty as he wrestled with the ethical dilemma unfolding before him. Was this even okay for him to be doing?

He technically did give her those pills against her will. 

Yet again, she did have the autonomy to choose whether she'd solve her issues on her own or if she'd come to him to handle it like he had suggested. Nobody had forced her into anything. 

That being said he figured it was all fair game.

"Don't pussy out now." [Y/n] could tell he was hesitant on what his next move should be. "Your fault. Now help me."

"Feisty one, aren't you?" he responded with humor. "But, your wish—my command." He'd listen.

Akabane moved her underwear to the side and got to witness firsthand just exactly how turned on the woman actually was. "I guess they really do work.." he mumbled to himself in reference to the pills he was previously wondering about.

Karma watched as [Y/n]'s excretion stretched into a long sticky line as he got rid of her underwear. The sight was erotic.

Karma slipped a finger inside of her and it went in without any defects. The slimy liquid welcomed him in with ease. Seeing how easily the first one went in, he added another.

"It's really warm in here," he smiled. He wasn't referring to the room.

[Y/n] moaned a little at the feeling of his fingers pushing so deeply into her and Karma bent them inside her as a response. "Moan louder, I'd like to hear."

She did, and with a steady pace he pushed his fingers into and out of her so the noises would continue.

Akabane's fingers were slipping in and out of [Y/n] so easily that he stopped focusing on actually pleasuring her and was just goofing around. It was so goey in there, like the inside of an Aloe Vera.

Just when the woman was really started to get into it he stopped. Karma pulled his fingers out mid-way.

[Y/n] was about to give the man a piece of her mind. She thought it was some attempt to tease her again. But before she could say anything to him he took his slimy fingers, slicked with her bodily fluids and put them in his mouth. 

It was completely unexpected. But the man seemed to be satisfied with what he had done because he had proceeded to grin at her.

"Spread your legs for me."

Chapter Text

-𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓜𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓾$$𝔂】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Why are you looking at 

me like that?  ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙮 ↲ ✗

"S—pread your legs for me." Karma instructed and for the first time [Y/n] had no issues adhering to his orders.

With a firm grip, Karma took hold of [Y/n]'s legs and smoothly pulled her towards the edge of the bed. 

After positioning [Y/n] at the edge of the bed, Karma dropped to his knees before her. She hoisted herself up on her elbows to look at him and he locked eyes with her.

With slow and deliberate movements, Akabane's lips grazed up the inside of [Y/n]'s thighs, leaving a trail of soft, featherlight kisses.

Each touch sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. Her skin tingled with the heat of his breath against her flesh.

As he continued his ascent, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake. With each kiss, he drew closer to her center and she grew even more desperate for him.

Just when he was almost there he paused. "You know..." he spoke with a tint of humor in his voice. "Now would be a pretty good chance to kill me," he couldn't help but point it out. "You could pry your legs closed and suffocate me." He added on, it was an attempt of being funny. "Bet I'd drown."

She glared at him.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He carried on with his babbling.

[Y/n] was not amused. His playful banter only served to exacerbate her desperation. 

Each pause in his actions heightened her anticipation. It left her yearning for further intimacy, intimacy in which he was refusing to give her.

Akabane took notice of this and decided to go back down. He took his time bringing his face into the sensitive area that was desperately calling out for his attention and the moment Karma's lips met hers, she hummed in satisfaction, bringing a hand to find support within his hair.

[Y/n] was sure the pills were responsible for her current euphoria, but everything felt a thousand times better.

Her head fell back and the young man between her legs took it upon himself to tighten his grip on her thighs because she was subconsciously closing her legs around him.

Akabane pried her legs apart as he continued to eat her out. The entire lower section of his face was drenched. But it was just so fucking hot. He couldn't stop.

[Y/n] grabbed a fistful of his ruby-coloured hair and her fingers scratched at his scalp. This in turn dragged a small groan from the man, which sent vibrations all throughout her insides.

As much as Karma hates to admit it, he liked when the girl caused him any kind of physical pain. He'd let her claw and cling onto him for dear life until morning if that's what she wanted.

His teasing eyes gazed up at [Y/n] from between her legs. He pressed a gentle kiss to her pussy allowing for his cool breath to contrast against the warmth of her skin.

He parted his lips slightly and she already knew it was time for another one of his mood killing remarks.

"Shut up Akabane," [Y/n] tried to get closer to his touch. Everything was going so well but he couldn't go five minutes without opening his mouth to say some bullshit. It's almost as if he'd die if he didn't.

"I didn't even say anything yet," he defended. What if it was something important he had to say though? What if his nose got runny and he needed a break or something? The woman had absolutely no compassion

One of his hands came up to part her lower lips, spreading her open so he could delve deeper into her. His tongue flicked against her little bundle of nerves as he sucked it between his lips. 

Pleasure was coursing all throughout [Y/n]'s body as his other hand moved to grasp her free one. He laced their fingers together and would feel her gripping him tightly which each flick of the tongue. The sensations felt incredible.

Then an idea came to him. "You think if I-" his voice vibrated against [Y/n] and she squeezed her thighs around his head to keep him quiet.

"Karma," she spoke to him while pushing his head into her crotch, "How about you shut up and keep eating."

That was enough to send the man back into a frenzy. "You're so fucking hot," he commended.

[Y/n] gasped at the feeling of his tongue dipping inside of her and gathering more of her essence.  She yelped at the sudden intrusion. "You keep getting wetter," he mumbled inside of her. 

It all felt so good. After she put to the back of her mind the fact that it was Akabane giving all this pleasure to her, of course.

[Y/n] used the hand still threaded into his hair to try and tug him back up, a silent command to continue his assault on her clit. 

Akabane responded by dragging his tongue up her pussy to flick his tongue against it, unthreading his fingers from hers so he could move down to press two against the woman's accumulated wetness, penetrating her.

He knew the exact way to send her hurtling towards her release. He curved his fingers inside her so they pressed against her g-spot perfectly. He started a slow, hard movement against it as he sucked her clit between his lips once more with the tip of his tongue still lashing against it.

"Karma..." The way her fingers tightened in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer to her, told him that she was close. [Y/n] continued to call out his name in some sort of mantra, the only cohereant thing she could think of in the moment because she couldn't hold on much longer.

The woman's eyes clenched shut as her upper body arched off the bed in pleasure, Akabane maintained a firm grip on her pelvic bone as she tried to squirm her hips up into his touch. Her thighs closed at the intense pleasure as they gripped onto his head.

She cried out Karma's name as she came. Her body shook around his touch and he continued to lap at her clit, helping to ease her down from her high. 

Akabane continued by pressing more gentle kisses along the woman's inner thighs as he stared up at her quite hungrily. 

[Y/n]'s breathing was still heavy so he gave her a minute to calm herself down. 

After a series of deep breaths, she composed yourself.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He had this animalistic look in his eyes. Purely predatorial.

Karma stood up, wrapping her legs around his crotch..The man was hard, and i'm talking third year in high-school, algebra hard.

His hard-on pressed into her and his underwear to get wet in the process. 

"My cock's feeling lonely. Do you mind?"

Chapter Text

-𝗙𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓜𝓮 𝓫𝔂 𝓶𝔂 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Make your voice a little higher

 too, I wanna hear it crack 

when you moan

 my name.  ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙮 ↲ ✗

[𝓨—n] felt like a whore—and rightfully so. The man whose life she was supposed to claim as her own stood directly in front of her, right within arms reach and what was she doing about it? About to fuck him.

It wasn't practical, but she simply couldn't say no. It's like her sexual frustration was only increasing.

"No, I don't mind.." She finally answered him.

He looked pleased with her answer. "What's the biggest you've ever been with?" He asked out of curiosity and partially because he wanted to boost his own ego.

"Five and a half?" She didn't see why he was asking, or why she even gave him an honest answer.

Karma tried his best not to laugh at her. The woman was practically a virgin. "Is more than that too much for you?" He'd really stretch her out.

"I think I'll manage." She was sure it wouldn't be that much of a difference.

He pulled his underwear down, not feeling like entertaining the conversation much longer. "You think you can handle it?" 

[Y/n] had seen it before, but her memory was hazy because it was all just a distant blur, and it wasn't that close up either. Not to mention she was too busy withholding eye contact with Akabane to really get a good look.

But now? This was a different ball game.

"I could've been 7ft tall but I guess God decided to put the extra inches elsewhere." He pulled her closer to him. 

It was an exaggeration of course. But still...

[Y/n] backed up. "That can't go inside me." It seemed a little above average when she was watching him play with his self but she forgot the man was 6ft and some change, so of course it would look normal on him. His hands were twice the size of hers.

This wasn't going to work. She'd be damned if she let him put that thing inside of her.

"Akabane...you wanna do something else instead?" She tried to find by her way out of the current predicament.

"You're running away from me?" That fucking stupid grin made its way on his face again. It boosted his pride exponentially knowing that his dick was big enough to scare the girl. "I thought you were supposed to do all the running when it was inside you, but this is pretty fucking funny too," he teased.

She used Akabane's habit of constantly talking against him to buy some time. She'd just keep talking to him until she found another way to satisfy her arousal. "I'm not running, I'm-" he rubbed his cock down her pussy to lather it up since she seemed to be getting wetter by the minute.

"Keep talking," Akabane noticed how she went quiet. 

[Y/n] opened her mouth to speak again and she felt him push the tip inside. "Go on..." he was waiting for her to finish.

"You're going to bruise my cervix..." she couldn't concentrate especially with him taunting her like this. 

He pulled out because of her many complaints. If she didn't want to anymore, it was fine.

"I didn't say stop.." [Y/n] complained again, but this time it was because of the emptiness.

Karma was confused because of the girl's many mixed signals but he put the tip in again, slowly pushing in an extra inch or two this time.

"God you're tight..." he was having trouble maintaining his composure whiles inching his way in.

[Y/n] bit her lip to cope with the sudden intrusion. She was trying her best not to make any noises that could discourage him.

Akabane kept inching his way in and groaning. He desperately wanted to shove himself inside her and start moving but he knew he couldn't do that. Even though she was wet enough and he technically could. 

"You good?" he checked on [Y/n] since she wasn't making any noise.

"Y-yeah." She steadied her breathing, " Keep going.

To be honest, he was tired of taking his time with the woman. His dick was aching from him trying to suppress his boner all that time, and he was already well aware of her situation so it was best they both just get it over with.

She was an assassin right, and wasn't he supposed to be killing her? People got shot everyday, he was sure a few inches of dick wouldn't kill her. He just pushed everything in.

[Y/n]'s backed arched up as she yelped in pain and in response Karma pushed her back down with his hand, laying her flat on the bed. "Shut up." He gripped onto the skin of her thighs to pull her closer and push his dick in even deeper.

Don't get him wrong Karma didn't actually intend for [Y/n] to shut up, so when she actually stopped making noises it really pissed him off. 

"Moan," he starting pushing her back and forth down his dick.

[Y/n] didn't know if it was the drugs talking or if this was the best dick she'd ever gotten in her life. It was probably the first option but holy shit.

She was so blissed out that she didn't even realize she was fucking someone raw for the first time. All she could think about was the stupid grin on Karma's face as he annihilated her insides. He'd occasionally sputter out some nonsense but she would just nod and moan in response so he kept going.

"You wanted this didn't you?" He started thrusting deeper into her. "Yeah, you did." He answered himself.

Once again [Y/n] wasn't really digging too deep into anything he said so she just moaned and nodded again.

"Make more noise." He was a little annoyed that he was having to coach her through everything. 

"Karma..." She moaned.

He slowed down again. "No, not like that. Make your voice a little higher too, I wanna hear it crack when you moan my name."

"Fucking shit Akabane!" [Y/n] snapped at him. She'd never get satisfied if he kept slowing down and talking like that. "Stop and just pull out."

"Wait no, baby why?" he whined. "My bad." He didn't want to stop.

"Akabane." [Y/n] didn't feel like repeating herself.

He really didn't want to, but he pulled out. "I'll be quiet." He bargained in hopes that she'd change her mind. 

[Y/n] knew she had to figure out a way to stop the heat pooling in her thighs that demanded her attention, and fast. "Sit down." She was going to top him. 

While still bitching about the lost of contact, Akabane sat down beside her on the bed. 

[Y/n] hiked a leg over, and clumsily climbed onto his lap. "We should've used a condom but that's my fault. Tell me when you're going to...you know." She took responsibility.

He grunted in response, internally absorbed with impatience. 

The girl awkwardly positioned herself over him and only then did she notice that his eyes were fixated down below, where her hands were steadily working his length inside her. 

A raspy sigh passed his lips as she sank down onto him. He stared between the two of them the whole time and watched his thick length press tightly inside her.

Karma desperately wanted to grind up into the tight heat that welcomed him but he limited himself from doing so because he didn't want the girl to freak herself out once again.

She felt good—fucking amazing, even—though he couldn't decide if that was just the side effects from the pills he gave her deluding him into thinking her pussy was the best he'd ever had, or if it really was.

Normally he would have managed with stilled hips and practiced control; just sitting back and enjoying the ride. But it took a monumental effort not to fuck up into her, especially with how damn... slow she was going. 

She was gripping him so nicely, and that look on her face as she seated herself onto his lap, accepting him fully and staggering from the size of him, was thrilling. But when [Y/n] finally started to move her hips, she was going about it so cautiously, so boringly that his patience all but thinned in a matter of seconds. 

"Faster." He muttered.

The words guilted her. "My legs hurt." She explained. Probably from him domestically abusing what was between them.

"I'll never finish." He shuffled his legs, widening them so he could better press up into her. The pressure made him grunt, and made her shiver. "Ride me like you mean it. I know you can." They'd be there all night if she kept this up.

If he hadn't asked, she probably would have never seen through to his wishes. 

With arms linked around his neck [Y/n] started to move her hips. Akabane didn't seem to mind the helpful contact. It was helping in balancing her on his lap. 

She wasn't entirely surprised when the first sighs and grunts came from her own lips. Every time she thought a new angle of her hips or a quick thrust of his own had finally hit that one pleasurable spot inside, she would sink down harder on his cock and gasp when his thickness dragged over another. 

It made her go faster.  She turned the fluid rolling of her hips into quick grinding, then finally when she'd adjusted to his size, a steady bouncing on his cock. 

"Fuck yes..." he was making noise again; that was what he needed, feeling her sink down over and over, lifting herself a little higher each time then dropping so hastily that his hips started jutting up to meet hers. 

"Shit." Lolling his head back he breathed heavily, deeply. "Ah shit..."

It encouraged her to circle her hips with every motion, which garnered a throaty growl in response. A string of curses under his breath accompanied it, and she pressed her face into his shoulder, and moaned along with him. 

Only when [Y/n] started getting noisier did she think of anything except what they were doing: Would the two of them still be able to go about killing each other after this?

She bit her lip to keep her next few moans low, but she swore Akabane must have had a sixth sense for her timidity, and didn't at all appreciate the way she was holding back. 

He was a very vocal man when it came to sex, so he wanted her to be equally as loud, even if she had to fake it.

He shifted his hips in a precise motion, and suddenly the head of his cock shoved against the right spot over and over again as [Y/n] bounced on top of him. All her logical thoughts were fucked into oblivion.

All she could hear was her own panting and the slap of her thighs against his. He would give his heedy approval in an occasional growl or moan, rasping it against her ear. It made her shiver uncontrollably. 

[Y/n] lost rhythm soon enough and took to grinding again, the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall behind her. His thick cock drove her crazy, until she was panting and moaning and whining. If that wasn't enough to signal an orgasm, he could feel it, he could feel her pussy gripping him in a desperate flutter. 

"Not right now [Y/n]," he got her attention, turning his head, his breath thin at her cheek, "Please don't–"

And she did, legs stretching and contracting, tightening around his thighs as she came. He cursed and dipped his head low when she squeezed around him, panting through the ridiculously good pressure on his cock.

Her body shivered to expel the white-hot pleasure that shot up her spine and then back down again. She couldn't breathe, shaking on top of him so violently he was sure she'd start foaming from the mouth and he'd have to call an emergency landing so he could take her to the E.R.

"Seriously?" he snapped after he'd let her shivers die down, bouncing her impatiently in his lap and jarring her back to awareness. [Y/n] gasped in hypersensitivity, his cock digging against her.

"I'm flattered you like my cock this much," he went on with her body slouched against him. The heat was nearing again; his cock twitched miserably inside of her, desperate for release and so damn close to getting it. "But in case you forgot...Keep riding. I'm close." 

With a moan [Y/n] pushed herself up, sucking in breaths of renewal through parted lips. Legs tensing and aching, she tried her best to grind on him again, but the task left her oversensitive. It seems like the effects of the pills were starting to wear off.

He needed to finish, she reminded herself. Karma had helped her out with her problems—even though he caused them; so she'd return the favor.

Soon enough, she was moving again, bouncing on his lap for all she was worth until her legs were begging for mercy and her lungs ached. 

[Y/n] bit her lip and whined when she felt him bow his head against her shoulder and pant heavily against the bare skin there. 

The heat was fucking blinding now. And it was loud: a numbing and seductive beat in his chest that made his heart stutter to keep up. Every slam of her hips down onto him, and every one of his thrusts up into her in turn, made the heat louder, ache more, and hurt.

"Get off," he grit out against [Y/n]'s ear, body seizing in warning. His fingers clenched into fists, gripping the sheets so hard that the joints popped in protest.  

A whine in her throat was the response. She was ignorant to much else except the wetness making a mess of her thighs, and of his searing hot skin against hers.

"Right now," he sputtered hurriedly, hips rising from the bed. All he could do was shove up into her once, violent and hard, digging his way as deep as he could as his balls went tight and fiery pleasure raced up his body. "Right fuckin' now move or I'm gonna—goddamnit... fuck!" 

He wasn't prepared for the way she slammed her hips down as she came again with a cry. He stiffened hard, body bowing down into hers, shoving his face into her neck.

"Shit," he gasped out, "fuck—" [Y/n] shivered around him and in an instant he was cumming hard, legs jolting, shaking under her thighs. 

His voice puttered off into a series of strained, frantic groans. Unthinking and delirious on pleasure, he closed his mouth around the soft flesh of her neck and bit hard. 

[Y/n] gasped, trying to wriggle free, but his hips were desperately snapping up into her, effectively throwing off her balance. 

Her hips hadn't stopped their determination either. They had a mind of their own, rutting fast to squeeze him dry. All the while, he growled hotly against her skin, teeth leaving deep marks, sucking blemishes into the flesh despite all restraint that told him otherwise. 

After the last, hard spurts inside of her, he sank back into the bed, utterly wasted. Little spasms harassed his body and made him shiver weakly. 

"Karma," [Y/n] stuttered out, a shaky hand coming to push a section of hair that stuck to his face out of the way. 

It shook him back to reality. He brought his dizzy head back to look at her through hooded eyes, then down at the wound he'd left on her neck. 

"My bad," he thought fleetingly, but not very regrettably. That was gonna bruise. 

He put his head back against the soft cushion of his mattress and heaved, shutting his eyes to dispel the lightheadedness. 

"Told you...to get your ass off," he muttered.

[Y/n] knew it was a mistake she would dwell on later, but she could barely move now, let alone think. 

When she shifted her legs, wanting to move and put some blood back into her limbs, it set off a chain reaction of oversensitive-pleasure; dwindling sparks went off inside her and she shuddered, making him jerk and grunt in tandem. 

"Don't move," he chided, his head still bent to the ceiling. "Just gimme a minute... Fuck..." he breathed. "That was..." He shook his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that she'd been the one to give it to him.

Then he thought: he wouldn't need to conjure up fantasies of her anymore when he was getting himself off. He could go by memory now. 

Once he'd regained partial composure, he shifted, only to be greeted with the huge mess in between both of [Y/n]'s thigh. He came hard alright. 

A lot would usually come out, but holy shit did he go all out this time.

He looked up at her. Then back down at it again. "That's probably gonna be a problem."

Chapter Text

-𝗦𝗜𝗫𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  It happens sometimes.  ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

W—hen it was all over, Akabane found himself having to clean up his mess once more. His sheets were defiled again, and he didn't want to sleep in any bodily fluids. It felt gross.

He cleaned [Y/n] up first and made space for her in the bed next to him. He wasn't sure if she needed emotional support afterward or if she would be fine without any lingering feelings about it so he didn't interfere with her too much.

One thing he did do, however, was give her an excessive amount of water to drink. 

Since he needed a lot of water to rehydrate himself, he assumed the same was true for her. He was convinced that she needed to replenish her bodily fluids. However, he miscalculated the appropriate amounts.

It slipped his mind that his body required, and could handle, a hell of a lot more than hers.

Once his sheets were changed and he assumed [Y/n] was fine, he fell into a deep sleep. He slept soundly, like a baby, which was expected after such a long night of physical activity.

There was one small problem however.

Karma still didn't fully trust [Y/n]. It was for this reason that he found himself holding onto her tightly, keeping her firmly against his body to prevent her from sneaking off during the night, just in case she attempted anything suspicious.

It didn't take long for the inevitable. "Akabane," the woman tried shaking him awake. 

She desperately needed the bathroom. However, it was near impossible for her to escape from his secure grasp. She couldn't get up, and to make matters worst, everything from the waist down hurt like hell. 

Karma stirred slightly but didn't wake up fully. His grip loosened just a bit, but not enough for [Y/n] to escape his hold. She desperately tried to wiggle free, but the pain in her lower body made every movement an agonizing struggle.

"Akabane," she whispered again, more urgently this time, but he remained deeply asleep, his face serene and untroubled. Panic began to set in as the pressure in her bladder became unbearable. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to hold on a bit longer, but it was no use.

The inevitable happened. Warmth spread through the sheets, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She couldn't believe this was happening. Her face flushed with humiliation as she lay there.

Eventually, Karma began to stir. He blinked sleepily, his eyes focusing on [Y/n] with a mixture of grogginess and confusion. His expression quickly shifted to one of realization as he felt the dampness beneath them.

Akabane jolted up at the feeling. "What the hell was that?"

Karma wasted no time in picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder, hurrying over to the bathroom before she could make any more of a mess. His shoulder, shirt, and hand got wet, but he didn't care about that right now.

Embarrassed, [Y/n] started crying. She had fucking pissed herself.

Karma heard her sobbing. "No, no, don't cry. Sorry." He should have known better. "That was my bad."

At this point he should probably just get a new mattress all together. No amount of sheets could save it now.

Akabane's words of encouragement didn't help at all. Forget killing him. [Y/n] would much rather off herself now.

"Hey, hey, don't worry about it. It's fine. Honestly." He continued trying. "It happens sometimes." It's never happened to him or anyone he's ever known, especially at this age, but hey...

[Y/n] refused to say anything.

Karma started running water in his bathtub, adjusting the temperature to make sure it was warm. 

He had originally planned to just let the woman figure things out on her own after fucking her but it looks like there was a small change of plans now.

Once the tub was nearly full, he grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from the shelf. It was something he had on hand but never really used. He poured a generous amount into the stream of water, watching as the bubbles began to froth and fill the tub. He hoped the bubbles might offer some semblance of comfort or at least distract her from the humiliation she was feeling.

He set [Y/n] down on the toilet. "You need help taking off your clothes?" He asked, gauging her condition. She seemed pretty capable to him but yet again he just basically humiliated her, so she might not be up to it.

[Y/n] didn't answer, in fact, she refused to even look at him, she just continued with her quiet sobs.

The man didn't know what he was supposed to do. He knew women were sensitive and this situation wasn't something he should make her feel ashamed about since it was technically his fault, so he refrained from being harsh.

"I'm going to take your clothes off. That alright with you?" She was still all emotional right now so he couldn't count on her to do much.

She nodded a little and with a careful touch, he began to undress her. He avoided looking directly at her, focusing instead on the task at hand. As he worked, he tried to think of something, anything, to lighten the mood. 

"You know," he began, his voice attempting a casual tone, "when I was a kid, I used to piss myself all the time." He chuckled awkwardly, hoping she might at least crack a smile. Instead, her sobs grew a bit louder, and he mentally kicked himself for his poor attempt at humor.

"Look, I put bubbles in your water," he said, trying another tactic. He splashed the water gently, sending a few bubbles floating into the air. "Girls like that, right?" He hoped the sight of the bubbles might distract her, even just for a moment.

Still, [Y/n] didn't respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, her body tense and withdrawn. Karma sighed inwardly. 

Akabane carefully lifted her from the toilet and lowered her into the warm, bubbly water. She flinched slightly at the contact but allowed him to move her. 

Afterwards he went over to the bathroom cabinet and retrieved a washcloth. "You want a loofah or a washcloth?" he asked, knowing she wouldn't answer but wanting to give her some semblance of control over the situation. When she remained silent, he decided for her. "Washcloth it is," he said, picking up a grey one.

He returned to the tub and soaked the cloth in the warm, sudsy water. As he did so, he tried to recall how he'd seen others take care of someone in similar situations. He'd never bathed anyone before, let alone a woman, so he felt awkward and unsure. 

Grabbing his body wash, he poured some of the liquid onto the cloth until it was lathered with bubbles. "Give me your arm," he said gently, reaching out to her. She hesitated for a moment before slowly extending her arm towards him. He took it carefully, avoiding any sudden movements that might startle her.

As he began to wash her arm, he kept talking, hoping to fill the silence with something that might ease her discomfort. "When I was a kid, I had this really embarrassing moment during a school play. I was supposed to be a tree, and I tripped over my own roots. Fell flat on my face in front of everyone." He smiled at the memory, though it had been mortifying at the time. "I thought I'd never live it down. But eventually, people forgot about it."

He moved to her other arm, continuing his story. "Then there was this one time I was wearing my favorite superhero costume and was convinced I could fly." Karma began.

"I climbed to the top of the tallest tree I could find, but I got cold feet and decided not to jump anymore. When I tried to get down I realized I was stuck. My dad had to call the fire department to get me down, and the firefighters couldn't stop laughing. The whole neighborhood watched, and for weeks everyone called me 'Superboy.' I was mortified, but looking back, it's kind of funny."

As he gently washed her, he could see her muscles slowly start to relax. She wasn't looking at him, but her sobs had quieted. He hoped his stories were helping, even if just a little.

Encouraged, he carried on. "And then in middle school I had this huge charity event. I think it was a talent show. I decided to do something different and try singing. But halfway through the song, I completely blanked on the lyrics. Instead of stopping, I started making up words on the spot. They didn't make any sense, and I got booed off stage."

She let out a small, shaky laugh, the sound barely audible over the running water. 

"There we go," he said, his voice soft and encouraging. "I like it better when you're happy." He flashed her a playful grin, hoping to lighten the mood some more.

Akabane looked at [Y/n], hoping to see a spark of amusement in her eyes. Instead, she looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and disgust.

Karma chuckled, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed in mock indignation. "Or not." That was fine too.

"Go ahead," he said, his voice filled with genuine amusement. "Curse me out, swear at me, whatever makes you feel better. I can take it."

He liked that much more.

Chapter Text

-𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓘𝓽 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Can't have you running

 off on me. ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓓—ue to unfortunate circumstances that neither of them planned on speaking about, the pair had to settle for sleeping on the couch.

Akabane, for all his bravado, was at a bit of a loss. He was used to breaking people down, not building them up. 

Sitting beside [Y/n], who was still reeling from their earlier ordeal, he fumbled for something, anything, that might make the situation less unbearable.

As an assassin, he was adept at many things, but comforting a girl was not one of them. He killed people, not comforted them.

He resorted to the only thing he could think of: offering her a handful of gum-balls from his pocket. "Here," he said awkwardly, holding them out to her. "Might help, I guess."

[Y/n] looked at the colorful candies in his hand, her expression a mix of exhaustion and irritation. "Are you serious?" she asked, but took a few anyway. She chewed in silence, and for a moment, they both pretended the gum-balls could somehow make things better.

Karma, who was freshly showered and clean himself after bathing [Y/n], shifted on the couch. 

He had just barely managed to keep his cool during the whole process. Now, he was facing the even more daunting task of trying to offer some kind of comfort. "You...feeling okay?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Yeah," she replied tersely, her voice lacking conviction.

"Cool..." he mumbled, glad to have gotten any response out of her at all. He fidgeted, unsure of what to say next. "Uhh you...comfortable?"

"No," she replied bluntly.

That threw him. He had been expecting a polite lie, something he could brush off. "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious now.

"Your couch isn't exactly cozy," she replied, casting a disdainful glance at the limited space they had to share.

Karma was slightly annoyed at himself for not thinking this through better. "Hold on," he said, getting up abruptly. He started removing cushions from the chair. 

[Y/n] watched him curiously.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm making a mattress," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. He continued to dismantle the chair, arranging the cushions on the floor in a rough approximation of a bed. "It'll be more comfortable than this thing," he added, gesturing to the couch.

When he had finished, he turned back to her. "I'll move you," he said, lifting her gently and setting her on a nearby table. She didn't protest, too tired to fight him. He then spread out sheets and blankets over his makeshift bed. "Is this better?" he asked, placing her down on it and covering her with a blanket.

To her surprise, it was more comfortable. "Yeah," she admitted grudgingly.

Karma felt a strange sense of pride at having done something right. "So, are you comfortable now?" he asked, needing the reassurance.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice softer this time.

"Goodnight then," he said, starting to walk towards the front of the aircraft where another couch awaited him.

"Where are you going?" she asked and her voice stopped him. There was a touch of vulnerability in her tone that she couldn't hide.

"To bed." He didn't think much of her stupid question.

Until...

"Oh?" He turned back, grinning. "You'll miss me, won't you?" She was obviously asking because she didn't want him to leave her. The boy was beyond flattered. 

Her eyes widened in indignation. "Huh? No."

He didn't believe her for a second. "The killer's attached, isn't she?" he teased, adopting his usual cocky demeanor.

"Fuck off," she snapped. "What if I need something?" It was the only reason she cared about his whereabouts.

Karma's grin widened. "Something like what, some more dick?" he asked, plopping down beside her on the mattress. "You could always just ask."

The little shit. 

"Listen," [Y/n] began, "Forget all of that. It's changed absolutely nothing between you and I."

Akabane pretended to care by giving a nod.

She took a deep breath. "I still hate you just as much as I did the day before. I despise the very fiber of your essence. I hate you so strongly that I can't fathom a way to ever put in into words."

A slow, amused grin spread across Karma's face. "You know, you're not very good at this whole 'heartfelt confession' thing."

"It's not a confession," she snapped, glaring at him. "It's a fact. Nothing's changed."

He shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "If you say so."

"I do say so," she insisted, though the fire in her eyes was more defensive than angry now. "And I want you to know that."

"Got it," Karma said with a nod, his tone infuriatingly calm. "You hate me. Noted."

[Y/n] looked away, her expression conflicted. "We'll never bring this up again. Ever. Do you understand me?" She couldn't believe she had even allowed it to happen. It was a moment of weakness, nothing more.

He studied her for a moment before his grin returned. "Sure thing." Without warning, he pulled her under him. His arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace.

[Y/n] pushed at his shoulder. But she lacked any real strength so it was a weak attempt at shoving him away. She squirmed and shouted curses at him, but he only chuckled. "Shh, it's okay. I understand, and I agree," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. "Nothing's changed."

"Let me go, you idiot," she growled, though her struggles were already weakening.

"No can do," Karma murmured and held her tighter. "Can't have you getting cold now, can we?"

[Y/n] huffed, but he only held her tighter. "Bla bla bla, you hate me. Bla bla, you'll kill me." It was the same lines over and over. "Yeah I know. I'm a piece of shit too." It was nothing he hadn't heard before.

[Y/n]'s body slowly relaxed against him despite her efforts. Everything was futile. He was an immovable object. "Die," she muttered, but there was no real heat in her tone.

"Whenever you decide to hurry up and kill me," he mocked.

"You're insufferable." She continued spouting insults at him.

"You don't seem to be suffering very much," he could tell she was all talk. 

"I wasn't thinking straight, that's against the law isn't it?" She was referring to him drugging her.

"I mean...yes?" It was illegal. "But...when have you ever cared about laws?" She couldn't just pick and choose which ones to follow. "If that's the case, both of us should be in jail. No?"

It wasn't like Akabane had rendered her completely unconscious or did something to her against her will. He gave her the pills for the humor of it all. She came to him in hopes that he could help her solve her little hormonal problems.

That was all her doing. He simply volunteered his services.

"I think a part of you always wanted to sleep with me," he grinned. She had jumped at the first chance to do so, but now she was embarrassed and trying to justify her actions.

"It's okay killer," he comforted her. "I'd want to fuck me too."

After their little talk Akabane shifted closer to her on the makeshift bed. His arms pulled her even further into his snug embrace.

"Was it good?" He asked casually, his voice a low murmur against her ear. "The sex," he clarified. "Any feedback for next time?"

"There won't be a next time," she retorted. Her voice was firm.

His fingers traced light patterns on her back. "I didn't make you feel good?" he teased, his voice a playful whisper in her ear.

"You're cocky," her voice was filled with disgust. "Arrogant, obnoxious, and a complete jerk."

He chuckled, unfazed by her words. "Yet here we are, cuddling. Must be doing something right."

"Shut up," she muttered.

"You know," he said, his tone becoming more serious, "before we part ways in the morning to 'Paris'... How about a goodbye kiss?"

[Y/n]'s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "You're delusional if you think I'd kiss you."

He leaned in slightly, his lips just inches from hers. "Come on, killer," he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. "Just one kiss?"

"No," she said firmly, turning her head away. "I'm not kissing you."

Akabane chuckled softly, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Come on, don't be like that. It's just a kiss. What's the harm?"

"The harm is I don't want to kiss you." 

Akabane leaned in again and his lips brushed against her ear. "You can keep denying it, but I know you're thinking about it. Just one kiss, and I'll stop pestering you."

[Y/n] felt her resolve weakening because of their proximity and his many sensual whispers, but she refused to give in. "No." 

"Please?" he whispered, his voice taking on a surprisingly sincere tone.

"No," she repeated, though her voice was softer this time.

Akabane sighed dramatically and leaned back but he kept his arms around her. "You're really stubborn, you know that?"

"So I've been told," she replied.

"Can I at least get a kiss on the cheek?"

She shot him an exasperated look. "You're impossible."

"And you like it," he teased, turning his cheek towards her expectantly.

"One kiss on the cheek, and then you leave me alone."

"Deal," he agreed, his grin widening.

She leaned in and stopped just before her lips touched his cheek. "Actually, no. I changed my mind."

Akabane sighed. "Guess I'll have to settle for something else then." Without warning, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, killer."

[Y/n] blinked in surprise, her breath hitching at the unexpected tenderness. Before she could respond, Akabane tightened his grip around her, pulling her even closer. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"Making sure you don't try anything funny tonight," he murmured, his tone half-teasing, half-serious. "Can't have you running off on me."

She huffed but didn't resist. "You're a pain."

"And you're stuck with me," he replied, his voice a soft whisper in the darkness. "Get some sleep. You've got a long day ahead of you." 

[Y/n]'s conviction seemed to be slowly slipping away. Though she claimed to hate him, he wasn't feeling it. 

The words that were once sharp and cutting, now lacked the bite they had before. The venom in her tone was diluted and her insults were more reflexive than genuine. They were less of a declaration and more a habitual defense mechanism.

Akabane could feel the subtle shifts in her demeanor. She no longer tensed up as much when he touched her; her body, which once bristled with resistance, now seemed to yield, albeit reluctantly, to his embrace. 

The hard exterior she clung to was softening.

Her eyes, when they met his, held a flicker of something that wasn't quite hatred. There was confusion.

Akabane knew that her heart was waging a war against her mind. She wanted to cling to her hatred, to use it as a shield against the confusing and unwanted feelings growing inside her. 

Akabane lied awake, staring at the ceiling, the darkness of the room pressing in on him. 

He felt [Y/n]'s steady breath against his chest, her body warm and trusting in his embrace. She had fallen asleep, her defenses lowered, and in this moment, she was soft and unguarded. 

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his lips. She was at peace now, but he knew it wouldn't last.

He held her tighter, as if he could stop time and trap this fragile truce in amber. He knew it was a futile wish. 

The morning would come, and with it, the harsh light of reality.

But for now, he allowed himself this stolen peace, a brief respite. Her warmth seeped into his cold, battered soul and it was a fleeting illusion of something he'd never truly have. 

It was a cruel joke, really. To hold something so tightly, knowing it would soon be ripped away by his own hand.

Tomorrow, he would help solidify her hatred. But tonight, he savored the calm before the inevitable storm. He kissed her forehead again, a silent apology for what was to come.

Chapter Text

-𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Should I stop? ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓘—n the dead of night, [Y/n] jolted awake. Her heart was pounding as an unsettling feeling coiled in her stomach. 

It was a heaviness that was hard to place—an instinctive dread that something was off.

She blinked into the darkness, her eyes darting around the cramped space of the aircraft. Something felt profoundly wrong.

As her senses adjusted, reality sank in. The space beside her was empty. Karma was gone.

She sat up and a blanket slipped from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air. "Where the hell is he?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely breaking the silence. 

Her mind raced with possibilities, but none of them were comforting.

Driven by an urge she couldn't quite name, [Y/n] swung her legs over the side of the makeshift bed and stood up. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then steeled herself. She needed to find him.

Shadows danced along the walls and played tricks on her eyes as she navigated the narrow space. She searched the small area, glancing into every nook and cranny, but no sign of Karma met her gaze.

With each passing moment, the knot in her stomach tightened. What was this feeling? 

Was it fear, or something deeper? She hesitated before pressing forward and seeking him out. 

She moved quietly yet each of her footsteps echoed in the stillness. The weight of her thoughts pressed down on her. The aircraft felt cavernous in the dark and it amplified her solitude. 

She opened the door leading to his room, but it was empty. Panic began to set in.

"Akabane?" she called softly, her voice trembling. No response.

Desperation surged within her and it propelled her deeper into the bowels of the aircraft. She checked the small storage areas, peering into each shadowy corner. Her mind flooded with irrational fears. What was he doing? She didn't trust the situation one bit.

Finally, she reached the back of the aircraft. Her heart pounded as she pushed open the final door. It led to a small storage area, dimly lit and cluttered with supplies. And there, amidst the shadows, she spotted him—sitting on a crate, his back turned to her, staring out at the night sky through a small window.

Relief washed over her, quickly followed by a renewed wave of confusion. What was this mix of emotions? Why did she feel so strongly?

"Hey," she spoke, her voice tentative.

He turned slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before it settled into his usual cocky demeanor. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Is that why you left?" she shot back. 

He chuckled softly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thought you could use the peace."

"Peace?" She shook her head. Nothing about any of this was peaceful.

Karma smirked, "What made you come looking for me?" He had turned to face her entirely.

She wasn't sure...[Y/n] knew she shouldn't have cared and should have gone back to sleep. But she didn't. Why did she go searching for him?

"To make sure you weren't lost."

"Lost?" He raised an eyebrow, a grin creeping back. "You think I'd get lost in my own aircraft? That's rich. C'mon, just admit it. You were worried about me. Huh, killer?"

"Worried? Please. I wanted to make sure you weren't up to something stupid." She crossed her arms, trying to project indifference.

"Stupid or not, you still came looking," he pressed and his grin widened. "So what's the real reason?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but the words stuck. Deep down, she knew she cared too much, and admitting it felt like losing a part of herself. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Ah, classic defense mechanism," he laughed. "But I'll take that as a yes. You were worried."

Karma stood up and gave his limbs a shake. "All fine," he assured. "You can come closer to inspect for yourself if you want." He sat back down.

She took a step forward, which surprised him a bit. For a moment they were caught in a silence that hummed with something deeper than their usual banter.

Karma watched her approach and the playful glint in his eyes gave way to a more serious expression. As she drew nearer, she noticed the way the moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, illuminating a vulnerability that was rarely visible.

"Why are you out here all alone?"

He shrugged and his gaze drifted back to the window.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, her voice softer, almost hesitant even. "Should I go?"

"No," his tone was surprisingly gentle. "Stay. I want you to stay with me for a while longer." 

She raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

He sighed, the playful facade cracking just a bit. "I know. It's just... I really want you to be close to me right now. Can you do that one thing for me?"

The sincerity in his voice was unlike him. He usually masked his true feelings behind a smirk or a joke. This time, he wasn't even bothering to hide his distress. It was as if something was seriously bothering him, something he couldn't bring himself to explain.

For a moment, she was torn. But seeing him like this, so unguarded, made it impossible to refuse.

She glanced around, looking for a place to sit, but the small storage area was cluttered with supplies. Karma didn't say anything. He was almost certain [Y/n] could tell what he was thinking.

She stepped closer and carefully lowered herself onto his lap, feeling his arms automatically wrap around her for balance. The closeness was both strange and comforting.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence. The weight of unspoken emotions hung in the air. It felt oddly natural, as if they'd found a fragile equilibrium amidst everything.

Karma held her close, and soon his breath was warm against her neck. "Can you do me a favor?"

She tensed slightly, uncertain of what he was about to ask. "What is it?"

"Tell me how much you hate me," he said, "I need a reminder."

She sighed, shaking her head at the absurdity of his request. "I hate you, Karma." She responded and he rest his head on her shoulder.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her. "Say it with conviction, killer."

She rolled her eyes but obliged. "I hate you, Karma." Her voice was firmer.

Karma and the warmth of his breath moved closer to her neck. He started kissing her softly. The contact was cautious and gentle. He was waiting for her to tell him to stop.

She stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. "What are you doing?"

"Just savoring the moment," he murmured between kisses, his voice low and soothing.

[Y/n] wanted to protest, to push him away, but the warmth of his lips and the softness of his touch made it difficult to resist. She closed her eyes and let the moment unfold.

His kisses grew more tender. But then he paused. "Should I stop?" His lips hovered just above her skin.

[Y/n] was silent for a moment. Part of her wanted to push him away, to maintain the distance she was so used to. But another part of her, the part that had come searching for him in the dead of night, wanted him to continue.

She turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes searching his for answers she couldn't articulate. "No," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't stop."

He resumed his kisses, his touch more delicate and careful now. 

Akabane's kisses traveled up from her neck to her jawline. The sensation made her breath hitch. His tenderness was unexpected. It was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

His breath was warm against her skin, and the sensation of his lips moving so tenderly against her made her heart race.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment. The space between them felt charged, yet serene.

Before she knew it, his lips found hers, kissing her just as softly. It was gentle, almost hesitant. 

Karma's hands gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing lightly against her skin. The kiss deepened slightly, but it remained tender and careful.

She allowed it all to happen. She allowed Akabane to kiss her until he felt like he had enough. But that seemed to be taking much longer than she thought it would.

Karma's kisses gradually slowed. His movements became even more tender until he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment.

Satisfied, he pulled back and let out a content sigh, resting his head on her shoulder once more. His arms wrapped around her a little tighter, as if to anchor himself in her presence.

They didn't say much after that. Words seemed unnecessary.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity, Karma finally broke the silence, his voice soft and tender. "You should go back to bed and get some sleep," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

[Y/n] shifted slightly, reluctant to leave the comforting warmth of his embrace. "What about you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll be fine," he assured her, lifting his head to meet her gaze.

She hesitated, searching his face for any sign that he wanted her to stay. But there was none.

"Alright," she finally agreed, her voice tinged with reluctance. She carefully stood up, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

[Y/n] turned to head back, feeling a mix of irritation and relief.

"This is the last you'll see of me for a while." He spoke before she left. 

A sense of finality hung in the air. She knew that after this night, everything would change. They’d have to part ways, returning to the roles they had always played.

As she replayed the moments they had shared, a bittersweet ache settled in her chest.

"Goodnight Akabane."

"Until we meet again, [Y/n]."

Chapter Text

-𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓞𝓷𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Is this all going to your

 fiancé's card? ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

[𝓨—/n] had no clue what had happened later that night. The last thing she remembered was the weight of Karma straddling her, his knees pinning her down as he held a white cloth over her mouth.

She struggled, trying to twist away from his grip, but it was futile. The smell was overpowering, and she quickly realized it must have been laced with some kind of sleeping agent.

Panic surged through her as she tried to claw at his arms, but in terms of brute strength, Akabane had always been superior. She thrashed beneath him, her limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to break free, but his weight and strength rendered her efforts useless.

Her vision began to blur and the edges of reality darkened as the agent took effect. The last thing she saw was Akabane's face hovering above her, a mixture of regret and resolve etched into his features.

When she finally woke, she had no sense of how much time had passed. Disoriented and groggy, she tried to piece together what had happened. 

Her body felt heavy, her muscles ached from the struggle. She realized with a sinking heart that whatever his reasons, Karma had overpowered her completely. 

She had been helpless, unable to fight back or escape. It was a chilling realization, one that left her feeling both vulnerable and enraged.

She was no longer on the aircraft. Instead, she found herself in a luxurious room that screamed opulence and wealth. 

The bed she lied on was far more comfortable than the makeshift one she had previously rested on.

The sheets were of the highest quality. They were smooth and cool against her skin. There was also a heavy, intricately embroidered duvet draped over her.

A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystal droplets caught the light and created a hypnotizing sparkle.

To her right, there was a large, mahogany dresser with a mirror framed in gold above it. 

On top of the dresser sat a silver tray with a selection of fruits and a crystal decanter filled with what appeared to be water. 

Beside it, a delicate porcelain vase held a bouquet of fresh flowers, their fragrance subtly perfuming the air.

A plush armchair, upholstered in rich velvet, was positioned near a set of tall windows.

Heavy, brocade curtains framed the windows, slightly parted to reveal a view of the city outside. The architecture of the buildings and the faint signs in Cyrillic lettering hinted at a foreign, possibly Russian, cityscape.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, her body still feeling heavy and sluggish from the effects of the sleeping agent.

Pulling back the curtains fully, she gazed out at the bustling streets below. Snow was gently falling, covering the city in a soft, white blanket. The city was alive with activity, people moving about their day, oblivious to her predicament.

Where was she, and why had Karma brought her here?

Her mind raced with questions as she turned back to the room, taking in the opulence once more. 

This was no ordinary place.

She needed answers, and she needed to find Karma. But first, she had to figure out where exactly she was and how to navigate this unfamiliar environment.

As [Y/n] continued to take in her surroundings, she noticed her luggage neatly placed in the corner of the room. Her suitcases were arranged carefully, almost too carefully, which gave her an uneasy feeling. 

On the nightstand beside the bed, she saw a brand-new phone. Its screen was reflecting the soft glow from the chandelier above.

A suspicion gnawed at her. Karma had probably gone through her things. She moved towards her luggage. Her steps were slow and deliberate. 

As she knelt down to open the first suitcase, she could tell immediately that it had been tampered with. Her clothes were folded too neatly, items she usually kept in disarray were now organized with meticulous precision.

Her eyes drifted back to the phone on the nightstand. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. It was brand new, no marks or scratches, as if it had just been taken out of the box. 

As [Y/n] unlocked the phone, her eyes were immediately drawn to a note widget prominently displayed in the center of the Home Screen. 

The note contained a message, and she had a strong feeling it was from Karma.

'Goodmorning [Y/n], or night. I don't know when you'll wake up—my bad by the way. But you've probably already noticed that you're up in some five star hotel—curtesy of yours truly of course. l thought I'd do something nice for you to cancel out all the other shitty stuff I'm about to do.'

Determined to make sense of the situation, she decided to keep reading.

'We were never going to Paris. It was all a lie. I'm not exactly a man of my word. But I'm sure you've realized that by now. 

So welcome to Russia, Anastasiya.'

"Anastasiya?" she muttered, bewildered. Who was Anastasiya? Her eyes fell on another note on the phone. She clicked it and began to read:

'Fear not though, I gave you a new identity. You're registered as Anastasiya Volkov now. I had someone I know whip you up a fake passport and birth certificate to make it more believable. Everything's in your suitcase. It's all authentic so it's less than likely you'll get imprisoned for it.'

He had brought her to Russia, a place where she was far from welcomed. The reality of her situation began to sink in. Russia was dangerous, especially for her, and Karma knew it.

She was not exactly popular among the Russians; in fact, she was a wanted woman here. Many people had it out for her, and being in Russia meant she was walking on thin ice.

Her thoughts drifted back to the numerous operations and conflicts that had earned her a notorious reputation in this country. She had crossed too many powerful people. However, she had long thought that she'd never see the day she found herself here. So it was never a worry of hers.

She looked around the opulent hotel room, the lavish surroundings did little to ease her growing anxiety. Being in a five-star hotel didn't change the fact that she was in enemy territory.

A mixture of anger and fear consumed her. 

[Y/n] put the phone down and rummaged through the rest of her luggage. It was true. He did go through all of her things.

Inside one of her suitcases was a handwritten note.

'I did find some unexpected things in here...Didn't take you for that type of woman, killer.'

-

Moving on; I'm keeping your actual documents with me for safe keeping so no need to worry. I'm also paying for your stay so by all means, go crazy.

That was it. No further explanation nothing. All she got from that was that his snooping ass went through her things and he also happened to change her identity. 

Apparently she's Anastasiya now. She didn't even get to choose her own name. What if she wanted to be an Inessa or something?

What was even worse was that he knew exactly where she was staying. How was that fair? If he really wanted to, he could just waltz up in there right now.

The logical thing would be to leave the hotel and go somewhere more underground. That way Akabane wouldn't be aware of her whereabouts.

But then she'd have to support herself financially and she didn't have any means of income. Akabane unfortunately wasn't feeling generous enough to leave her any money, or her wallet.

Staying here, although it wasn't what she wanted, was the best course of action. 

Akabane didn't want to kill her. He would have surely done so already.

He probably wanted her to come find him. So it didn't matter if he knew where she was or not. The fact still remained that she had no idea where he was hiding.

On the bright side—free food. It felt like she hadn't eaten in days. Her stomach growled and it reminded her that she had more immediate concerns. 

She spotted a pamphlet on the dresser and flipped through it. It contained a list of the hotel's amenities and a room service menu.

[Y/n] picked up the phone and dialed the number for room service. A polite female voice answered in Russian. Despite the language barrier, [Y/n] managed to convey her request for a recommendation. The woman suggested a traditional Russian breakfast in English, sensing that [Y/n] was most likely not a native.

"Which name will this be under?" The woman didn't want to mix up the order.

Naturally [Y/n] was about to state her real name out of habit but she quickly caught herself in the knick of time. "Uhm... Anastasiya Volkov?" The name felt foreign to her.

"Oh Anastasiya! My apologies. Is this all going to your fiancé's card?" She seemed delighted.

Akabane seemed to get a kick out of introducing himself as her fiancé to strangers. She was sure the title of a co-worker, or a friend would work just as fine too.

[Y/n] sighed. "Yeah.." 

Once the woman on the phone had confirmed that she was the correct woman her whole demeanor changed. 

[Y/n] could hear the shift in her tone. "Your fiancé is quite a name around here," she said, a hint of excitement in her voice. "You should definitely treat yourself! I recommend ordering something more special."

Confused but intrigued, [Y/n] listened as the woman eagerly continued, "Instead of the regular breakfast, how about the caviar blini or the beef stroganoff? They're exquisite! You simply must try them. And perhaps order a nice vodka to go with it?"

"Really?"

"Absolutely! You're in a five-star hotel, and your fiancé would want the best for his lovely fiancée," the woman insisted. "And please, make sure to leave a generous tip for the staff too."

"Of course."

"Wonderful! I'll get that order started right away. Just let me know if you need anything else, Anastasiya!" The woman sounded genuinely pleased to help, as if her day had just brightened.

As she hung up, [Y/n] couldn't help but feel amused with the situation.

Karma must be big in Russia...

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬-

❝【𝓐 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓽 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓴】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  She's getting closer to 

finding you... ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓘—t was the dead of night when Karma was jolted awake by a series of sharp sounds piercing through the quiet—a rapid succession of gunshots echoing down the darkened streets.

He blinked against the shadows of the room as he struggled to shake off the remnants of sleep.

He slid out of bed and moved cautiously to the window. Peeking through the blinds, he squinted into the alley below. 

The moonlight barely illuminated the grimy pavement, but the flashes of light from the gunfire confirmed his suspicions. A group of figures were engaged in a chaotic exchange. Their silhouettes darted between buildings as the echoes of violence reverberated through the air.

Karma sighed before shaking his head. This was exactly what he had anticipated when he chose this part of town. 

He had known it was risky, a rundown area where danger lurked. But it was also convenient—an ideal location to stay off the radar and keep a low profile while orchestrating his next moves.

The neighborhood was a labyrinth of crumbling buildings and abandoned warehouses, the complete opposite of the luxurious hotel [Y/n] found herself in.

He had deliberately positioned himself far from the bright lights and false security. He was fully aware of the precarious balance he was walking. Here, he was just another ghost in the city, blending in with the chaos.

Karma leaned closer to the window. He remembered the whispers about this area: stories of turf wars and desperate people fighting for control. Each bullet that rang out felt like a reminder of the thin line between survival and eradication.

He turned away from the window, rubbing the back of his neck. The choice to come here had been strategic, but now he was second-guessing himself.

With his wealth, it would have been expected for him to stay in a luxurious penthouse or a five-star hotel, surrounded by all the comforts money could buy. But that felt too predictable, too easy.

He thrived on unpredictability and fully embraced the struggles that came with his lifestyle. 

Staying in a rundown part of town was more than just a tactical decision; it was a statement. It was his way of immersing himself in the authentic Russian experience.

He was far removed from the glitz and glamour of high society. Here, he could observe the rawness of life, the struggles of ordinary people.

In this neighborhood, he was just another face among many, blending in seamlessly with the backdrop.

He found a certain thrill in this way of living. The sense of danger that hung in the air only added to the adrenaline.

He reflected on his upbringing, the privileges that had been handed to him on a silver platter. But Karma had never wanted a life of mere comfort; he craved authenticity, the kind that came from experiencing life in its rawest form. 

Karma slipped on a pair of worn sneakers, the soles scuffed and familiar against his feet. 

He hesitated for a moment, listening to the chaotic symphony of the night outside—the distant echo of sirens.

Everyone with an ounce of common sense knew better than to be out this late, especially in a neighborhood like this. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

Karma often found it hard to sleep at night. His thoughts swirled in his head, each one would battle for dominance and pull him deeper into contemplation. 

The weight of his decisions, the intricacies of his plans, and the constant underlying tension of his life kept him awake long into the early hours. 

It wasn't just the noise outside; it was the restless energy within him, refusing to let him settle.

Karma stepped outside and leaned against the rusty railing. He stared into the darkness, reflecting on how this nocturnal restlessness had become a routine.

He remembered nights spent tossing and turning, grappling with visions of what lay ahead.

The cold air seemed to be the only thing that soothed him. It was a sharp contrast from the heated chaos of his mind.

Here, on the edge of the night, he could think, strategize, and prepare for whatever lay ahead.

As Akabane gazed out at the deserted streets, he suddenly heard a sound coming from behind him.

The sound of gentle footsteps came to a stop. "Sir...if you keep doing this every night you're going to get sick." Arisu was scolding him for what felt like the twelfth time this month.

Everywhere Akabane went, Arisu was there too.

She was well aware of his insomniac tendencies, accustomed to the late-night hours spent plotting. But tonight, with the snow falling softly outside, Akabane stood in just a few layers of nightclothes, oblivious to the chill.

"How much money did [Y/n] spend today?" He brushed off her concern.

Karma left a card at the front desk for [Y/n] the same day he dropped her off, and call him creepy if you want to but at the end of everyday he would have Arisu would list off all of her purchases, and the full total.

Arisu glanced at the notes she had made. "She didn't buy anything except room service today, sir... and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol from a convenience store." [Y/n] had a knack for peculiar purchases, so Akabane didn't read too much into it.

At first, she had been indulging in overpriced, impractical items just to spite him. But it didn't take long for her to realize that his pockets had no bottom. With the exchange rate in her favor, everything was significantly cheaper, and she quickly adjusted her spending habits. She even went out and bought herself a car.

"She's getting closer to finding you," Arisu cautioned.

"I doubt that." Akabane leaned back. Toying with [Y/n] was an entertaining diversion, especially watching her frustration when he led her into dead ends.

Arisu watched Karma carefully. She had held back her questions for too long. The longer she worked with him, the more she wondered about his true intentions, especially regarding [Y/n]. She decided now was the time to confront him.

"Sir," she began hesitantly, "if your goal is to harm her, you're letting this drag on too long. It feels like you're playing a game without a clear end. What are you actually intending to do with her?"

Karma turned his gaze from the alley to meet her eyes. There was something unreadable about his expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," she pressed on, "this whole plot doesn't seem reasonable. There are much easier ways to achieve your goals if harming her is truly your intent. This...cat-and-mouse game—what's the point?"

He sighed, a weary smile playing on his lips. "You're right. There are easier ways. But where's the fun in that?"

"Fun?" Arisu echoed, her tone incredulous. "This isn't a game, Karma. You're risking too much. And for what? To satisfy some twisted sense of entertainment?"

Karma shook his head slowly. "It's not about fun, Arisu. It's about control. It's about showing her that no matter how hard she tries, she can't outsmart me. I need her to understand her place in this."

Arisu frowned. "But to what end? What happens when she finally gets here? Are you planning to kill her?"

He didn't answer her.

"And what is the next phase?" Arisu asked.

"Trust that I know what I'm doing," he replied. 

Arisu felt uncertain. She had followed Karma through countless schemes, but this one felt different. More personal. "I hope you do, Karma. Because this could all go very wrong, very quickly."

"It won't," he assured her, though the confidence in his voice did little to ease her worry. "I have everything under control."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^𝗢𝗡𝗘-

❝【𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Are you ready? ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

[𝓨—/n] woke up with a jerk, her stomach churned violently. She barely had time to throw off the covers and rush to the bathroom before she was bent over the toilet, retching. 

The taste of last night's borscht and pelmeni, which had seemed so delicious at the time, now lingered unpleasantly on her tongue.

She groaned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and leaned back against the cool bathroom tiles, trying to steady her breathing. 

This wasn't the first time she'd woken up like this. Morning sickness had become a frequent, unwelcome visitor over the past few weeks, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something more than just bad food was to blame.

Memories of Japan flickered through her mind. She remembered another time she had felt this sick, and the circumstances had been far more sinister. 

Karma Akabane.

It had been his way of getting her alone. She was aware of the fact already.

The thought of Karma made her stomach twist even more, but this time it wasn't just the nausea. She couldn't help but wonder if he had something to do with her current condition. 

Was he plotting something from afar? The idea seemed far-fetched, but with Karma, she could never be too sure.

The persistent sickness, the way it hit her out of nowhere—it felt too familiar, too orchestrated.

Karma's antics had always left her on edge, constantly second-guessing his motives. He had a way of getting under her skin, making her question her own sanity. 

Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss the thought. Maybe it was just paranoia, a residual effect of being around someone like Karma for so long. 

The logical part of her mind insisted it was the food or perhaps an illness she had picked up in her travels. Yet, deep down, a nagging suspicion remained.

Once she was sure that was the last of it, she flushed the toilet and made her way over to the sink where she would brush her teeth.

Living in Moscow as "Anastasiya" was a disorienting experience. It was an entirely different world from the one she left back in Japan. Yet, the biggest challenge wasn't the language barrier or the freezing winter—it was maintaining her new identity. 

Not because of the fear of slipping up, but because of the insane amount of effort playing this new character took.

Becoming Anastasiya was more than just a name change. she had changed her appearance completely. 

The first and most drastic change was her hair. [Y/n] had dyed her hair a striking shade of red. The color was bold and eye-catching, a far cry from the more subdued tones she had always preferred. The hair also cascaded all the way down to her back due to the extensions she had gotten. 

It had taken hours in the salon to achieve the transformation, but it was necessary.

The style gave her an air of elegance and maturity, perfectly suited to Anastasiya's persona.

Her eyes, too, needed to change. They were a feature that would be too easily recognizable. She started wearing contact lenses. The contacts not only altered her eye color but also gave her a more unambiguous look.

Makeup became another essential tool in her transformation. She learned to contour her face in a way that emphasized her cheekbones and slimmed her jawline. 

Anastasiya's look was polished and sophisticated, with perfectly applied eyeliner and a hint of highlighter to catch the light just right. She favored bold lip colors, like deep reds and berry tones.

Clothing was an equally important aspect of her new identity. Gone were the casual jeans and t-shirts of her old life. Instead, she filled her wardrobe with high-end designer pieces: tailored blazers, elegant dresses, and chic accessories. 

Each outfit was carefully selected to project an image of poise. She learned to walk in stilettos, mastering the graceful stride that Anastasiya would possess.

To complete the transformation, [Y/n] adopted new mannerisms and habits. She worked on her posture. Her gestures became more controlled. She even modified her speech, softening her voice and adding a slight Russian accent to blend in more.

She was blending into the upscale scene perfectly.

However, the physical changes were the easiest part. She had always been adaptable, able to change her appearance at will. 

Back in Japan, she had lived a double life, navigating between her 'normal existence' and the clandestine activities that had entangled her with Akabane Karma. The experience had made her adept at playing roles, slipping into different versions of herself as the situation demanded.

But Anastasiya was different. She had never played a role so...grand. She was a fully-formed character with her own backstory, habits, and relationships. The lines between [Y/n] and Anastasiya often blurred.

It was a full-time commitment, requiring constant vigilance and effort to maintain the illusion.

Yet, despite the external changes, [Y/n] couldn't entirely escape her true self. Late at night, when she removed the contacts and wiped away the makeup, she would stare at her reflection and see glimpses of the person she truly was. 

The person she saw in the mirror sometimes felt like a stranger, a reminder of how far she had strayed from her original self.

The constant vigilance was exhausting. She had to be mindful of her every word and action, aware that a single slip could unravel the carefully woven tapestry of Anastasiya's life. 

She had to fully live this lie.

Anastasiya was her shield, her means of survival in a country where trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. She would continue to play the role, adapt, and evolve as needed. 

[Y/n] brushed the scent of vomit out of her mouth until her gums bled. She looked in the mirror at herself and scowled. She was a mess.

It looked like life had been fucking her in the ass. Because it was.

During the night she wouldn't sleep much. Moscow's nights were long and cold. She often found herself staring at the ceiling as her mind churned with thoughts of Akabane.

She had spent countless nights analyzing every word, every gesture, trying to decipher his true intentions. The memory of what had happened on the plane haunted her. It was puzzle piece that never quite fit.

But as the months passed, she came to a stark realization: whatever had transpired on that flight held no relevance. It was just another one of Karma's games, designed to confuse her, to make her doubt herself and her mission. 

She understood now that his true aim was always to make her let her guard down, to slip up in a moment of vulnerability.

That would no longer be the case. [Y/n] had hardened her heart against him, steeling herself for the task ahead.

Her resolve had only grown stronger.

She had a goal, a clear and unwavering purpose: killing Karma Akabane. It was the only way to break free from the web he had spun around her. Each sleepless night was a reminder of that mission.

Reaching into the deepest part of her mind, she thought up hundreds of different ways she could outsmart Akabane, or at-least cause him trouble.

If she couldn't kill the man then she'd sure make his life a hell of a lot more miserable.

[Y/n] leaned against the cool bathroom wall, taking slow, deep breaths to steady herself. 

The white tiles and the harsh bathroom light amplified her discomfort. But she couldn't afford to let it show. Anastasiya wouldn't. Anastasiya couldn't. She was too polished, too composed for anything so undignified.

Pushing herself upright, [Y/n] turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face, letting the coolness shock her system into alertness.

She had to push her discomfort away and play the part.

[Y/n] turned on the shower and stepped under the hot stream of water. The remnants of any sickness or doubts were all washed away. 

She lathered her hair with expensive shampoo and the scent of vanilla filled the steamy air. She scrubbed her skin until it tingled.

After drying off, she wrapped herself in a plush robe and began the meticulous process of becoming Anastasiya once more. 

She styled her hair into soft waves, letting the red strands fall into place. She applied her makeup. The deep lipstick was the final touch, a bold statement that completed the transformation.

She dressed in a slim dress and slipped on her stilettos to finalize things.

As she stood in front of the mirror adjusting her posture, there was a knock on the door.

She paused for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. With that breath, she gathered the remnants of her morning's turmoil and locked them away. 

She reached the door and placed her hand on the knob, taking a final moment to remind herself of her role. The polished smile returned to her lips, a practiced expression.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of Anisa, a woman whose vibrant energy seemed to fill the space around her. 

Anisa was more than just an acquaintance in this new life; she was a ‘friend’ and an integral part of Anastasiya's social circle.

"Anastasiya!" Anisa exclaimed. "Are you ready? We have a full day of shopping ahead of us, and we can't be late for the event tonight."

Anisa stepped inside, her designer handbag swinging at her side. She took in Anastasiya's appearance with an approving nod. "You look stunning as always. But we need to find something truly spectacular for tonight."

"Thank you," Anastasiya said, closing the door behind her. "I’m ready when you are."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗧𝗪𝗢-

❝【𝓛𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓛𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓱, 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓶】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Your fiancée will cover it, 

like always.❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+

[𝓨—/n] and Anisa made their way to the boutique that Anisa had been speaking so highly of. 

The store, "Maison de Luxe" was well-known for its exclusive, custom-made gowns that adorned the city's upper class in grandiose.

As they entered the boutique the scent of high-end perfume lingered in the air. It mingled with the faint sound of classical music playing softly in the background.

A tall, elegantly dressed woman approached them with a warm smile. "Miss Anastasiya, Miss Anisa, welcome to Maison de Luxe. We've been expecting you."

Anisa nodded. "Thank you, Yelena. Is everything ready?"

"Of course," Yelena replied. "Please, follow me."

They were led to a private fitting room, where a gown awaited on a mannequin. [Y/n]'s eyes widened as she took in the sight. 

The gown was breathtaking. It was a masterpiece of design, and incredibly mature. It was made from silver silk with a slight blue tinge.

The bodice was fitted, with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination, yet it was crafted in such a way that it exuded sophistication rather than vulgarity. 

The gown featured a daring slit up the side. The back was equally stunning, with a low cut that framed the back beautifully.

[Y/n] couldn't help but marvel at the dress. "It's... incredible," she breathed, running her fingers over the fabric.

Anisa smiled, pleased with her reaction. "I knew you'd love it. It's perfect for tonight."

[Y/n] hesitated for a moment. "This must cost a fortune, Anisa. I don't think I can—"

Anisa waved her concerns away with a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it. Your fiancée will cover it, like always. Remember?"

[Y/n] hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, of course. My fiancé is very generous."

[Y/n] bit her lip, "But are you sure it's okay? This gown is... well, it's an extreme attention grabber. Just how grand is this event we're going to?"

Anisa laughed softly. "Oh, it's going to be quite the spectacle, trust me. And you need to look the part. Your fiancé would want you to shine, to be the center of attention. This gown will do just that."

[Y/n] nodded, still slightly in awe of the situation. "I guess he would want that." The thought of Akabane made [Y/n] roll her eyes.

Anisa, however, was told a completely different story. [Y/n] had told her that he was a high-ranking official in a major Russian corporation who was away dealing with business. That was why he had left her with such a huge sum of money—so she wouldn't feel neglected while he's away.

Anisa's smile widened. "Now, let's get you into that gown."

With Yelena's help, [Y/n] changed into the gown. The fabric felt cool and smooth against her skin, fitting her like a second skin. Once she was fully dressed, she stepped out of the fitting room and stood before the mirror.

She hardly recognized herself. 

[Y/n] studied her reflection in the mirror, turning slightly to take in every angle of the iridescent gown. It was undeniably stunning, but there was no ignoring the fact that it was a bit too snug. The fabric clung to her body, emphasizing her curves more than she intended. She could barely take a deep breath without feeling the constriction around her midsection.

Yelena, scrutinizing her work with a critical eye. "It seems the measurements were a bit off," she said, frowning slightly. "We'll need to make a few adjustments."

[Y/n] glanced at Anisa, who was sitting on a nearby plush chair, flipping through a fashion magazine. "I thought you sent my measurements in advance," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

"I did," Anisa replied, looking up with a concerned expression. "Perhaps they were old measurements? Or maybe you've put on a bit of weight? It's nothing we can't fix."

[Y/n] nodded, a small frown creasing her brow. She had noticed her clothes feeling tighter recently, but she had attributed it to the stress of maintaining her cover and the constant vigilance that her new life required. 

Her eating habits had changed too. But that was only because the rich and varied cuisine of Moscow offered temptations.

Yelena snapped her fingers, and her assistants moved quickly to make the necessary alterations. They measured [Y/n] again, marking the places where the fabric needed to be loosened. 

The process was meticulous, but Yelena assured her that the gown would fit perfectly by the end of the alterations.

"Just a few minor tweaks," Yelena said, pinning the fabric in place. "You'll be comfortable and still look fabulous."

As the assistants worked, [Y/n]'s mind wandered. However, she quickly dismissed the thought.

Anisa put down the magazine and walked over, her eyes scanned the gown with a critical eye. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience."

"It's fine," [Y/n] said, offering a reassuring smile. "Things happen."

As they waited for the alterations to be completed, Anisa continued to chat about the evening's event. "This gala is going to be incredible. The guest list is a who's who of Moscow's elite. You'll make quite an impression."

[Y/n] nodded, trying to focus on the upcoming evening rather than the discomfort of the gown.

Yelena's assistants worked quickly, and soon enough, the gown fit perfectly. The fabric flowed elegantly, the snugness replaced with a comfortable fit that allowed Anastasiya to move. She looked at herself in the mirror again, this time with satisfaction.

"It's perfect," Anastasiya said, turning to Yelena. "Thank you."

Yelena smiled, pleased with the result. "It was my pleasure."

Anisa noticed that her friend seemed to be in distress despite pretending to be pleased. "Anastasiya, is everything okay? You seem... worried."

[Y/n] forced a smile, trying to shake off the unease. "I'm just feeling a bit off, that's all. I've been sick lately."

Anisa's expression softened. "I've been feeling sick too, actually. Putting on some weight as well. Maybe there's some sort of bug going around? Or maybe it's just your body adjusting to the Russian climate and cuisine." 

[Y/n] let out a sigh of relief. "It's good to know I'm not the only one."

Anisa nodded reassuringly. "It's probably just that. Nothing to be alarmed about. You're still getting used to living here, and it takes time for the body to adjust."

[Y/n] was a bit skeptical but chose to believe her friend. "You're right. Thanks, Anisa."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘-

❝【𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓞𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Your fiancé sounds

cool. ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

𝓐—fter purchasing the gown, Anisa and [Y/n] made their way to the next stop in their preparation for the evening: an upscale salon.

The salon, "Élégance," was located in the heart of Moscow. This time when they walked in, the scent of exotic flowers filled the air.

A receptionist greeted them with a warm smile. "Welcome to Élégance, Miss Anastasiya, Miss Anisa. We have your appointments ready."

Anisa smiled and nodded. "Thank you. We're here to get Anastasiya's hair styled and her nails done for tonight's event."

They were led to a private section of the salon, where a team of stylists awaited them. [Y/n] took a seat in a lush garden chair. The mirror in front of her reflected her apprehensive expression, but she quickly composed herself.

Anisa took a seat beside her and glanced at the lead stylist. "We need something elegant and sophisticated for tonight. A look that matches her gown perfectly."

The lead stylist, a tall man with impeccably styled hair named Dmitri, nodded with a smile. "Of course. We'll create something stunning for you, Miss Anastasiya."

Dmitri began working on [Y/n]'s hair, discussing various styles with her. They decided on an elegant updo with loose tendrils framing her face. As Dmitri worked, [Y/n] relaxed.

Meanwhile, another stylist started on her nails. They chose a classic French manicure.

Anisa watched with a satisfied smile. "You're going to look absolutely breathtaking Anastasiya."

"Thank you, Anisa. I'm just a bit overwhelmed by all this."

Anisa chuckled softly. "It's all part of the experience. Your fiancé wants you to have the best, remember?"

[Y/n] nodded, her thoughts briefly drifting to Akabane and the story she had spun about her wealthy fiancé.

As the stylists worked, [Y/n] and Anisa chatted about the upcoming gala. "So, what exactly can I expect tonight?" [Y/n] asked, curious.

Anisa leaned back in her chair, thinking. "It's going to be a grand event, filled with Moscow's elite. There will be music, dancing, and plenty of networking opportunities. Your fiancé would want you to make a strong impression."

[Y/n] smiled, trying to shake off her nerves. 

Anisa nodded encouragingly. "You'll be the star of the evening. Just be yourself, and everyone will be captivated by you."

"Hair, nails, what else?" Anisa was making a mental checklist. "Maybe you should get a massage too." It seemed like her friend desperately needed one.

By now [Y/n] was just letting the woman do as she pleased. If Anisa felt she needed to buy something then she'd just buy it and keep her mouth shut. Whatever Anisa had up her sleeve had to have been something good so she was just sailing along.

"Are you hungry?" The day had been quite long, so Anisa figured she should ask.

That was a bad idea. If [Y/n] ate something she'd just throw it up later, so she wanted to refrain from that. "Not at all." [Y/n] lied.

She wasn't buying it but nevertheless, she let it slide. 

Taking a deep breath Anisa continued the conversation. "This fiancé of yours..." 

"What's he like?"

[Y/n] paused for a second, this topic again? "Well for starters, he's a huge pain in the ass." She laughed but Anisa didn't.

Everytime Anisa would ask about [Y/n]'s fiancé she never seemed happy to talk about him. She couldn't quite figure out why that was either.

"You say that every-time Anastasiya. Come on. What do you really think about him? You agreed to marry him didn't you? There must be at-least one thing you liked about him."

One thing huh? [Y/n] never took the time to actually find anything to like about Akabane.

"Well, he's... persistent," she began.."

Anisa raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"He's really good in bed?" That was probably the only good thing she could say about him.

"But doesn't he care for you?" She pried. "You can't remember at-least one act of kindness? Something about that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

[Y/n] dug deep into her memory. Akabane wasn't that type of guy. But nevertheless she thought anyways, maybe there was something, and she was right. She did remember something.

"There was this one time." She had burried the memory deep, not ever wanting to recall it.

"Something...unfortunate had happened to me." Yes, that memory.

"I refused to speak to him—for good reasoning too. But he didn't care, even though he knew I wouldn't respond to him, he kept talking in an attempt to comfort me." A poor one at that.

"He put me in the bathtub and started to tell me stories of his early childhood to compensate." His childhood was a very shitty one might she add.

"What kind of stories?" Anisa wanted to hear more.

"Well for starters, when he was about five or six he wrote his own Looney Tune fanfiction in which Sylvester the cat successful caught, butchered and consumed Tweety the bird. He was so proud of it that he showed it to his parents who had just come back from an oversea trip and they praised him for his creativity. According to him, that was what made him into the man he is today." [Y/n] smiled as she recalled the story.

"He must be some man alright." She couldn't contain her laughter.

"He also told me how when he was younger he really wanted a pet, so he would atleast have a companion to keep his company while his parents were out, but they refused to get him one since it was too much of a hassle to take care of. Because of that he had to get creative. He knew that chickens sat on eggs to hatch chicks, so he'd go in the fridge and steal all of the eggs, hiding them in warm places, and occasionally sitting on a few in an attempt to hatch his own baby bird."

Anisa had yet to stop laughing. "See, your fiancé sounds cool."

"My fiancé sounds like a huge nerd Anisa." [Y/n] laughed to herself.

"After he was done bathing me he put me in some of his clothes and told me I looked badass. But it was only because he was too lazy to go to the front of the airplane and get me some actual clothes from my suitcase." It wasn't even that far of a walk, and his clothes didn't even fit me."

Sure Akabane did screwed up a lot, but she never realized how much he atoned for his mistakes afterwards. Whether he was aware of it or not.

"He gave me some gum-balls too." That was pretty thoughtful of him..

"He also cuddled me that night..." 

"He put me in a fancy hotel..." The more she thought about it the more she realized that Akabane had done a hell of a lot for her.

"He gave me his credit cards.." He could've let her fend for herself.

"He kept me out of harms way.." Even though all she'd ever tried to do was kill him.

"He came to visit me while I was sick too..." Even though he was the cause. But he came everyday. He even brought her flowers. "He fed me pudding." Correction, he force-fed her pudding.

When she caught that disease she could have easily died right then. But he took matters into his own hands. He took care of her.

The man was even generous enough to give her a new identity now that she was in Russia. He could have easily put her in a bad part of town and left her as she was, to be killed.

For every single negative thing Akabane had done, he atoned for it.

When she told him she was hungry he got up and hand-made her some food. Even though he could have easily given her some cereal or a granola bar.

Now [Y/n] felt guilty. She never once stopped to think or acknowledge it. All she ever thought about were the negatives.

If he truly wanted to, he could've made her life so much more miserable. But he wasn't.

She shook her head. It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense.

Why was he doing all of this? Were they all actual genuine gestures or just mere coincidence?

He cared. He had to, even if just a little. But why. 

Noticing her friend's silence, Anisa decided she would be the one to speak. 

"I don't know about you Anastasiya. But that sounds like one hell of a fiancé to me."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥-

❝【𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓽】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Your ring... ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

"𝓘—don't think I need to buy diamond earrings Anisa." The two happened to be in a jewelry store.

She felt as though [Y/n] needed to accessorize some more just in case of the small possibility that someone else could outshine her. That was the last thing Anisa wanted. Tonight her friend had to be the center of attention. It was a must, and there was simply no way she'd let [Y/n] work around it.

"I think you do though." It was almost as if Anisa was getting paid to make her spend money. The woman was quite persistent.

"It matches the dress." Her argument was undebatable and final.

"That is true." [Y/n] was pretty sure Karma wouldn't mind a few more missing dollars. Go big or go home right? "Ah well, what the hell. I want the earrings." [Y/n] caved in.

"Yess." She cheered. "She wants the earrings." Anisa informed the man standing behind the glass table.

"Would that be all?"

"Would that be all?" Anisa turned to [Y/n] and repeated the exact same thing she had heard the man say already.

"That will be all." [Y/n] replied to the both of them.

Now the day was successful. Anisa had successfully prepared [Y/n] for her event this evening. A job well done if anyone asked her.

"It's starting to get dark, let's go back to your hotel room so you can get prepared." Not a second more would go to waste, especially since the event was beginning in a few hours or so.

After shopping all day [Y/n] was exhausted. "I'm actually really tired..." she yawned.

"You can take a nap on our way back home." That should have been enough to jumpstart her. "But don't mess up your hair!"

"Got it."

The drive back to the hotel was a blur for [Y/n], who dozed off in the car. Anisa, ever vigilant, made sure her friend got some rest while keeping an eye on the time. As soon as they pulled up to the hotel, Anisa nudged [Y/n] awake.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. We're here," she said with a mixture of both encouragement and urgency.

Groggily, [Y/n] blinked her eyes open. It took her a moment or two to fully register her surroundings. "Already?" she mumbled while rubbing her eyes.

"Yep, and we've got no time to waste," Anisa replied before practically dragging [Y/n] out of the car. 

They hurried through the lobby up to [Y/n]'s floor with their baggage in hand.

By the time they reached the room, Anisa was already barking orders. "Alright, we need to get you ready. No more sleeping until you're dressed and looking fabulous."

[Y/n] sighed but complied, knowing there was no arguing with Anisa when she was in this mode. She kicked off her shoes and headed straight for the bathroom to freshen up.

"I'll lay out your dress and get the makeup ready," Anisa called after her. "We don't have much time, so make every minute count."

[Y/n] quickly washed her face and fixed her hair, then returned to the room where Anisa had everything prepared. The dress was laid out on the bed and the makeup along with the accessories were neatly arranged on the vanity.

"It's going to be hard to try and stay faithful tonight, but do your best okay?" She took one final look at [Y/n]. 

Anisa helped [Y/n] into her dress and afterwards they moved over to the vanity so she could touch up her makeup.

"God...you look really good Anastasiya." She complimented for what felt like the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

Even after all of Anisa's assurance, [Y/n] was still unsure if her attire was appropriate for the night. She looked in the mirror and fully soaked in her appearance. She was truly unrecognizable.

"You do too." [Y/n] returned the compliment to Anisa who was now dressing in her own evening gown that she had brought with her.

Once Anisa was done ,she returned to [Y/n] to give her a thorough evaluation. Anisa suddenly paused with her gaze fixed on [Y/n]'s left hand.

"Wait a minute," Anisa said and her brows furrowed. "Where's your ring?"

[Y/n] glanced down at her bare finger.

She hadn't even noticed, so the fact that Anisa did was absurd. What was she supposed to do now? Lie? Or maybe just say she didn't get one. Of course she got one...how the hell was she 'engaged' with no ring? That didn't make any sense.

"It's in my suitcase." [Y/n] came up with something on the fly. Her suitcases were empty since she took the liberty of taking out all the contents and relocating them to the drawer. So in the event that Anisa did decide to check, [Y/n] would be in deep shit.

"Which one?" Anisa made her way over to them. 

Shit. "I don't remember, check anyone." It was too late to back out now.

[Y/n]'s lies were already prepared for when Anisa didn't find anything. She'd simply tell her that it must've gotten lost and that it was okay because her fiancé would just buy her a new one. [Y/n]'s thoughts however, were quickly lost when she saw Arisu pull a shiny object out of one of the side compartments.

What the hell?

"Found it." She got back up with a smile.

Once Anisa got closer, [Y/n] got to take a good look at the ring. It was the one she stole from Akababe's airplane. [Y/n] had no idea how it ended up in there.

"It's beautiful!" Anisa slipped it on [Y/n]'s finger and admired the many carats.

She was right. It was. Which is why [Y/n] decided to steal it in the first place. It was hard not to with such a big ass diamond.

"Yeah...it is." [Y/n] was a bit skeptical.

"Now you look complete." Anisa was content.

It was time for the two of them to leave and Anisa opened the door. She took extra care in ensuring that [Y/n]'s dress was not in the way. "Do you have everything with you?" She was about to shut the door.

[Y/n] was completely empty handed with nothing but a coat to shield her from the snow as they both made their way towards the still unknown location. "Yeah..." It didnt seem like Anisa was taking her to any place worth suspicion. [Y/n] could trust her..

 "That's everything."

Anisa went to close the door but [Y/n] put her hand on it to stop her. "Actually...." She gave Anisa a smile. "I do have to use the bathroom really quickly. Care to wait for me in the car until I get back?"

╭      ╮

❦

╰      ╯

The night air was cold and crisp as Anisa and [Y/n] stepped out of the car. The chill air bit at their exposed skin. 

They had arrived at their destination.

The parking lot was already bustling with luxury cars and elegantly dressed attendees making their way towards the grand entrance.

[Y/n] wrapped her coat tighter around her shoulders due to the fact that the cool breeze was causing her to shiver. She glanced at Anisa, but she seemed completely unfazed by the cold.

[Y/n] struggled to keep up, her high heels kept sinking into the snow and the chill of the night air was biting through her coat.

"Why did we have to come here?" [Y/n]  grumbled. She continued her shivering as they approached the entrance. 

A man promptly stepped forward to take her coat, leaving her feeling even colder.

"And...there goes my coat." [Y/n] complained as she watched it get taken away.

She couldn't help but wonder to herself what was the point of going through all this work if she was just going to freeze to death before it was all over.

"Relax, you'll get it back later," Anisa reassured her. "Now comes the tricky part." She headed towards the doorman guarding the entrance. "We've got to get inside." This place had really strict protocol tonight.

The doorman's gaze lingered a bit too long on [Y/n]. "Good evening, ladies. Do you have your invitation?" he asked.

"Invitation?" both [Y/n] and Anisa echoed, puzzled. "Like a written one?" They hadn't brought anything like that.

Seeing their confusion, the doorman smirked slightly. "No invitation, no entry," he said, his tone suggestive as his eyes traveled over [Y/n] again.

He had seen many women come in tonight but by far [Y/n] was the most eye-catching. 

Anisa, catching onto his intentions, held out [Y/n]'s hand, revealing the ring. "Well..." Anisa drifted off.

The doorman initially didn't seem to care about the ring. He saw married women with big expensive diamonds all the time. What was the big deal?

"I think you should take a closer look at the ring sir." Anisa suggested.

He looked a bit closer and momentarily paused upon spotting something or maybe coming to a realization. [Y/n] wasn't sure what the true cause was. 

The doorman's eyes widened at the sight of the ring. Surprise, panic, or perhaps fear flashed briefly across his face. "Can I see it..?" He stammered, needing to verify its authenticity.

"I'd rather keep it on," [Y/n] said, wary of his intentions.

"It's just...that symbol on your ring...," he explained, trying to maintain his composure. "I need to confirm." He didn't want to loose his job over a simple screwup.

Symbol? [Y/n] wasn't aware of any symbols.

Reluctantly, [Y/n] handed over the ring. The doorman inspected it thoroughly, and upon recognizing the emblem, he stepped aside. "My apologies, please, go inside." He welcomed the women.

Confused but compliant, [Y/n] took back her ring and followed Anisa through the crowd. For some reason she didn't seem too surprised about the whole interaction.

That man's behavior. [Y/n] had experienced it way too many times before, and usually it was almost always the result of-

The lights in the grand hall began to dim, and the room hushed.

"What's happening?" she whispered to Anisa who for some reason was still not sharing her perplexion. 

The lights continued to dim, casting long shadows across the grand hall until the room was enveloped in complete darkness. Suddenly, a powerful spotlight illuminated the top of the grand staircase, revealing a figure.

[Y/n] felt a cold wave of dread wash over her as she recognized the man standing there. His eyes swept over the crowd before landing directly on her with a grin.

The room was filled with influential and powerful individuals, all of whom now focused on the man at the staircase.

"Good evening, esteemed guests," the man began, his voice echoing through the now silent hall. "I must say...it's an honor to stand before you all tonight, on such an important occasion."

[Y/n] couldn't tear her gaze away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the overwhelming sense of unease she had only heightened.

The man continued, "Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate our successes and partnerships but also to acknowledge the unpredictable twists of fate that bring us together."

[Y/n] felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She was acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat, and the growing sense of fear that gnawed at her.

"And speaking of fate," he said, his voice now tinged with a sinister warmth, "I see that it has brought you back to me." He said, addressing [Y/n] directly.

All eyes turned to [Y/n]. She felt exposed, like a deer caught in headlights. The man at the top of the stairs descended slowly.

"It seems that fate has a way of reuniting us, no matter the distance or the circumstances."

She hadn't expected this, not tonight, not in this place filled with strangers. The realization that her cover was blown and the implication of his words left her reeling.

The man reached the bottom of the staircase and moved through the crowd, which parted for him like the Red Sea. He never took his eyes off [Y/n], and she felt a chill run down her spine.

He stopped a few feet away from her, his smile both charming and menacing. "Welcome back, my love," he said softly, yet loud enough for everyone to hear. "Looks like Russia has been very kind to you."

The room buzzed with murmurs, the shock of the revelation rippling through the crowd. [Y/n] stood frozen, unsure of what to do next as she faced the man she had hoped to never see again.

[Y/n] felt her stomach churn as the man continued his approach. The lights were still dimmed, but the spotlight followed him, ensuring every eye in the room was on them. 

The murmurs grew louder, and she could feel the weight of their collective gaze. Her disguise, her carefully curated appearance, felt fragile under the intensity of his scrutiny.

She scowled, her anger and frustration was boiling over. How dare he? How dare he use this moment to put her on display, to trap her in front of all these people?

The man took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You can change your face, your name, your life," he said softly, "but the soul remains the same. And I would recognize your soul anywhere." 

[Y/n] rolled her eyes at the amount of pure bullshit he was spewing out to his audience.

Her scowl deepened, and she could feel the tension in her muscles. She wanted to scream, to disappear, but she was rooted to the spot, the gravity of the situation holding her in place. 

This was supposed to be a night of careful maneuvering, of staying under the radar, and now it had all come crashing down around her.

The crowd, still enthralled by the drama unfolding before them, began to applaud softly. Their approval of the romantic spectacle only added to her sense of entrapment.

[Y/n] clenched her fists, struggling to maintain her composure. She knew she had to play along, at least for now. She forced a tight smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy the audience without giving too much away.

How theatrical...

Akabane looked down at [Y/n]. He held out his hand to her, and despite every instinct screaming at her to resist, she knew she had no choice. Reluctantly, she reached her hand out to him. He grasped it firmly, lifting their joined hands into the air to show off the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "May I have your attention, please?"

[Y/n] was pretty sure there was no need for him to ask for attention at this point..

"I have gathered you all here tonight for a very special reason," he declared with pride. "Allow me to introduce my fiancée, [Y/n]."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘-

❝【𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Don't make me beg. ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

[𝓨—/n] stood there with her hand still in Akabane's grasp trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. The grand entrance, the spotlight, the announcement—it all felt surreal. Her mind raced in an attempt to pinpoint the exact moment when things had spiraled so far out of her control.

Was it when she first agreed to go along with Anisa's impulsive plans? Or maybe it was way back before that.

As she tried to piece together the events that had led her to this moment, Akabane watched her intently, waiting for a reaction. 

Her initial shock began to subside so [Y/n] took a moment to really look at Akabane. His sharp features were as she remembered, his eyes a bright red that seemed to pierce right through her. But it was his suit that caught her attention next.

The fabric of his suit shimmered under the light, a luxurious blend of silver silk with a faint blue tinge. Her eyes widened in realization. It was the exact same fabric as her dress. The subtle sheen, the intricate weave—there was no mistaking it. They were matching.

She glanced down at her own gown, then back at his suit. It was no coincidence. 

Akabane noticed her staring and followed her gaze, a knowing smile curled at the corners of his lips. "You noticed," he said softly, leaning in slightly.

That boutique. It was a set-up. All of this was. 

But how? [Y/n] didn't have the time to stop and think about it.

She was furious. But not at him. Desperately, [Y/n] scanned the crowd searching for Anisa.

Akabane, ever observant, caught on to her frantic search. "Are you looking for someone?" he asked, his voice ever so smooth and calm.

[Y/n] didn't respond, instead her eyes continued to dart through the sea of faces.

"Don't bother," Akabane continued. "Your friend is long gone by now."

'Anisa' had played her part perfectly and then vanished, leaving [Y/n] to face the consequences alone.

"Why?" she managed to whisper, more to herself than to him.

Akabane's expression softened, almost as if he felt sympathy for her. "Cheer up, killer. Atleast you still have me. Right?" He grinned.

His words sank in, and [Y/n] felt a cold, hard knot of anger settle in her stomach. She had been played from the very beginning. All [Y/n] could hear was the deafening silence of her own thoughts. She was trapped, her every move orchestrated, and her every step had led her deeper into Akabane's palm.

"...You look really beautiful tonight, you know that?" His thumb ran slow circles over the back of her hand. "But I take it you're not too happy to see me?" Karma was practically conversing with himself.

[Y/n] turned around in an attempt to leave but he didn't let go of her hand. "Comon' killer, don't go out there." He pulled her closer so he could whisper to her. "These people want you dead you know?"

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had completely forgotten the reality of where she was.

Everyone in the room was aware of who she was and there was only one thing stopping them from pressing her. 

Him.

It became hard for her to swallow, and Akabane only kept talking. "As soon as you step foot out of here you're good as dead." His voice was cold. "But..." he trailed off, his tune becoming just a little bit softer.

"But what...?" She finally spoke to him.

A smile made its way to his face, and not his usual sadistic one. "But I've got you." 

[Y/n] wasn't understanding. "What do you mean?" 

He didn't answer her question. Instead he put both hands on her waist.

"Dance with me." The music was about to start.

Dance with him? All these months she had been working her ass off to find him and kill him. Yet the first thing she was going to do was dance with him? Surely he was a mad man.

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Don't make me beg."

[Y/n] still wasn't responding to him as much as he would have liked her to. "I fed you, clothed you, and put a roof over your head and you're not going to dance with me?"

[Y/n] stood motionless. His grip on her waist was firm, almost possessive even.

"I don't owe you anything," she retorted. Her eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape but finding none. The guests were watching, their gazes were filled with curiosity and expectation. She was trapped, both by circumstance and by the man who held her.

Akabane chuckled softly. "Maybe not," he conceded. "But will you dance with me? Please." He whispered.

She remembered the countless nights she had spent hunting for him, the sleepless hours filled with thoughts of revenge. Yet here he was, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Against her better judgment, she nodded.

He gently guided her onto the dance floor as the music began to play. The crowd parted, giving them space.

He decided to adjust his hands, resting them a bit lower on her ass instead, "You missed me?" He hummed.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I can," Akabane replied, his tone light yet serious. "And because I want to remind you of what we had. What we could still have."

[Y/n] frowned, trying to decipher his cryptic words. "What are you talking about?"

He leaned in closer. "I haven't forgotten. Not for a single moment. And I know you haven't forgotten me either."

She tried to pull back, but he held her firmly. "You're delusional. I've spent all this time trying to find you so I can kill you."

"And yet here we are," he murmured, his lips brushing against her cheek. "Dancing together like nothing has changed."

Everything had changed, [Y/n] thought bitterly. 

The music was sedate, so swaying to the rhythm was an easy feat. Everyone else in the room seemed to have been dancing as well so it wasn't awkward at all.

They began to move in sync with the rhythm and Akabane leaned in closer. "You look really nice tonight in this dress."

She couldn't help but notice the way his eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail. "You planned this, didn't you?" she flat out asked.

He nodded slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Of course. I wanted everything to be perfect for our reunion."

[Y/n] fought the urge to roll her eyes again. "Reunion? Is that what you're calling this?"

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver through her. "Well, what would you call it?"

"A nightmare," she replied flatly.

Akabane's laughter was genuine this time, a rich, warm sound that almost made her forget who he was. Almost. "You always did have a way with words, [Y/n]."

As the dance continued, he pulled her even closer. "You know," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper, "I've thought about you every day since we last saw each other."

She looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. "And why should I believe that?"

"Because it's the truth," he replied.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she muttered, trying to maintain her resolve.

Akabane smirked before brushing his thumb lightly against her waist. "Who said I'm trying to get anywhere? I'm just enjoying the moment. Enjoying you."

"You've always been good at saying the right thing," she said with bitterness. "But words are just that—words."

Akabane tilted his head and his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her. "Maybe. But actions speak louder, don't they?" He guided her effortlessly through a turn, his hand never leaving her waist. "And my actions tonight... well, haven't they been loud enough?"

[Y/n] glared at him...her jaw clenched. 

She opened her mouth to retort, but he silenced her with a gentle press of his finger to her lips. "Shh," he murmured. "Let's not spoil the moment with anger. I want to enjoy this. Enjoy you."

She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly.

"I don't understand you," she said, her voice barely audible over the music. "You act like you care, but you manipulate and deceive me every chance you get. What do you really want from me?"

"Too much," he admitted.

Before she could respond, Akabane leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "But let's not end the night on a sour note?" he whispered.  "Loosen up a bit." There was no reason for the woman to be so hostile.

What had he done to her that was so bad anyway?

"And what if I don't?" she challenged, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

Akabane's eyes sparkled with a dangerous mix of amusement and challenge. "If you don't, then I'll leave. Right now," he said softly.

He was serious. She knew he was.

"Is that what you want from me?" Karma doubled down.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to force herself to stay calm. "No." They came to a consensus. "Stay."

Good," he whispered, "I don't want to leave you."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Karma."

“It’s hard.” He spoke and gave her mind some time to wander about just what he might be referring to next. “Really hard.” He stressed.

She glanced up at him in skepticism. His tone was alluding to something completely different, or so she felt.

“Really hard not to get ahead of myself when you’re so captivating.”  He finished his declaration. “So try not to make it harder?”

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗦𝗜𝗫-

❝【𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓼】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  They got bigger. ❜ 

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

T—he night had grown colder and the air inside the grand ballroom was thick with tension and curiosity. Eyes lingered on the pair. Their matching attire marked them as the evening's centerpiece. 

As they continued to sway to the soft rhythm of the music, Akabane's gaze lingered on [Y/n] with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. The way his eyes roamed over her, studying her every detail, brought a familiar feeling of unease creeping up her spine.

"You've changed," he finally voiced, his tone casual but observant.

[Y/n] stiffened at his words, her defenses immediately rising. She had worked so hard to keep herself together. And now, here he was, pointing out something she had been so determined to hide.

"I'm exactly the same," she shot back, her voice firm and defiant. "If anything, I'm worse."

Akabane shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, not in that way."

[Y/n] frowned, her mind racing to figure out what he could possibly mean. "Of course I changed my appearance," she said, her tone slightly more defensive. "It was the only way I could survive in Russia. The hair dye, the makeup... I had to disguise myself."

Survival meant becoming someone else entirely. She had blended in, adapted, and done whatever it took to stay off the radar. She thought that's what Akabane had noticed—how the person standing before him was nothing like the woman he once knew.

But Akabane's smile only grew softer, almost amused by her assumptions. "That's not what I meant either," he murmured.

[Y/n] felt a flicker of irritation. "Then what? What are you talking about?"

He leaned in closer, his eyes darkening with something she couldn't quite place. "Your body," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "It's different."

She blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected direction of his comment. Her body? 

"You've... gained some weight," he continued, his tone kind, almost gentle. "It's natural, you know. And it's not a bad thing."

[Y/n] opened her mouth to retort, but the words got caught in her throat. She wasn't sure whether to feel offended or embarrassed, but the truth in his observation stung. She knew she wasn't the same girl he left behind—physically or emotionally.

"I—" she began, but before she could form a coherent thought, Akabane's gaze dipped lower, his eyes shamelessly taking in the curve of her cleavage.

"They got bigger," he noted with a soft chuckle, his voice barely above a whisper as if sharing a secret. "I couldn't help but notice."

[Y/n] felt her face flush with heat, a mix of indignation and something else she couldn't quite define. This was not the conversation she expected to have, not here, not with him, and certainly not under these circumstances.

His hand on her waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling her closer, making it impossible for her to escape his gaze—or his touch.

"It suits you," Akabane added, his voice smooth, almost comforting, as if he were merely stating a fact rather than making an observation that sent her nerves into overdrive. "You're still beautiful, [Y/n]. In every way."

She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the way he was looking at her made it difficult to keep her composure. Akabane had always had a way of getting under her skin, and this was no exception.

"Don't read too much into it," he said, his tone lightening as if sensing her discomfort. "I'm just appreciating what's mine."

Those last words hung heavily in the air between them, and [Y/n] felt her pulse quicken. She wasn't sure what infuriated her more—the audacity of his claim or the way part of her body reacted to the possessiveness in his voice.

But she wouldn't let him see that. Not now, not ever.

"You’re far too comfortable," she warned, her voice cool and sharp as she forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm not yours."

Akabane's smile didn't waver, and he leaned in closer until his lips were just inches from her ear. "We'll see about that," he whispered.

As the music continued, [Y/n] tried to focus on the rhythm, on the steps she took with Akabane, but his words lingered, like a persistent echo in the back of her mind. 

She dismissed them, brushing off his observations with an air of indifference, pretending they had no effect on her. Yet, despite her best efforts, they stung. The idea that he had noticed something she had been trying to ignore was unsettling.

It wasn't just his words; it was the way he had said them, with that knowing look in his eyes. Akabane had a way of seeing through her defenses, of pulling out the thoughts she tried to bury. She kept replaying the conversation in her head, trying to convince herself that it didn't matter, that it was all just superficial. 

She had changed—she couldn't deny that. The weight she had gained was a reality she had tried to ignore, thinking it wasn't noticeable. But Akabane's words had shattered that illusion.

Unable to shake the growing doubt, [Y/n] found herself looking up at him, locking eyes with the man who had always been brutally honest with her. He wouldn't lie, not about this. Steeling herself, she asked, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability she hadn't intended, "Are you saying I'm fat, and you're just trying to be nice about it?"

Akabane's response was immediate, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head. "No, killer, you're not fat." His tone was gentle, almost soothing, but his gaze remained fixed on her, studying her reaction.

Despite his reassurances, [Y/n] felt a pang of sadness settle in her chest. She tried to push it away, to maintain the composed facade she had perfected over the years, but Akabane noticed the shift in her demeanor. 

His expression softened, a rare display of genuine concern crossing his features as he began to comfort her. His words were gentle and his hands were steady as he held her, trying to offer solace in a way that was unfamiliar to both of them.

[Y/n] tried to remain composed, but the emotions she had been suppressing began to unravel. She had no idea what was wrong with her, why she couldn't control the flood of feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. 

The logical part of her mind screamed to keep it together, to not let him see weakness, but despite her better judgment, she felt her face grow wet. Tears began to spill down her cheeks, unbidden and unstoppable.

She was crying. 

Akabane's confusion was evident as he slowed their dance, his grip on her waist tightened slightly as he tried to comprehend what was happening. [Y/n] was just as baffled by her own reaction. She had faced far worse situations without shedding a tear, yet here she was, breaking down in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by people she could barely stand to be around.

Realizing that this was not the place for such an emotional display, Akabane looked around, searching for a way to deal with this privately. The crowd around them continued to dance, oblivious to the turmoil within their small bubble of space, but Akabane knew he needed to get her away from prying eyes. 

Without another word, he began to guide her off the dance floor. He led her towards a quieter corner of the room, where they could address the situation without an audience.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Crying was never part of the plan, especially not for her. [Y/n] had always prided herself on her ability to keep her emotions in check, to maintain control no matter the situation. 

But now, standing in the dimly lit corner of the ballroom, her emotions seemed to have taken on a life of their own, completely disregarding the firm grip her mind tried to keep on them. 

She didn’t want to cry, didn’t even know why she was crying, but her body had other ideas. Tears kept spilling over, blurring her vision, and with each one that fell, she grew more frustrated with herself. The frustration only made it worse, the tears flowed faster, and a tight knot of anger and sadness twisted in her chest. 

Akabane watched her in confusion as he tried to process what was happening. This was unlike her. The woman he knew didn’t cry, at least not in front of him. She was always so composed, so sure of herself, never letting anything get under her skin. But now, she was crying, and there was no denying that it was real. 

Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to her. His embrace was steady as he held her, his arms around her in a way that was meant to comfort, though he was still clearly puzzled by the situation. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

[Y/n] wanted to answer, but the truth was she didn’t know. It was all so confusing, the sudden wave of emotion that had hit her out of nowhere. She was fine just moments ago, or at least she thought she was. But now, everything felt out of control, and she hated it. 

When Akabane repeated his question, her frustration bubbled over. “I don’t know!” she snapped, her voice shaky with a mix of anger and despair. “Just shut up and look away.”

Akabane blinked, taken aback by her outburst, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened his hold on her slightly, not in a way that was suffocating, but enough to remind her that he was there. He didn’t say anything else, respecting her wish for silence, though his concern was evident in the way he looked down at her, still trying to figure out what had caused this sudden shift.

The room around them seemed to fade away, the music and chatter of the other guests becoming nothing more than background noise. 

Akabane didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he stood there, holding her, even as she tried to bury her face in his chest to hide her tears.

It was weird—more than weird, really—but it was also real. And for once, neither of them knew what to do about it.

Akabane’s mind raced as he held [Y/n] close, he was trying to piece together what could be causing this sudden outburst of emotion. This—her crying in his arms over something as seemingly trivial as a comment about her body—was completely out of character. It didn’t add up.

This wasn’t like her at all. He replayed their conversation in his head, trying to identify the exact moment things had shifted. Was it really just his comment about her body? Could it have triggered something deeper, something he didn’t understand?

As he stood there, holding her moping form, a thought began to take shape in his mind—something that made his blood run cold. His body stiffened, every muscle tensing as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Could it be…?

[Y/n] felt the change in him immediately. His embrace, which had been warm and comforting, suddenly became rigid and uneasy so she looked up at him.

Akabane quickly realized she was watching him and forced an awkward smile onto his face, hoping to mask whatever he had just thought. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his attempt to reassure her only made her more anxious. “You’re fine,” he said, his voice unconvincingly light. “Everything’s fine.”

But even as he said the words, his eyes betrayed his skepticism. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and doubt, as if trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. What if he was right? 

He hoped desperately that he was wrong, that his sudden realization was just his mind jumping to wild conclusions. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, making him hold her a little closer, a little more protectively

He made a quick decision.

“We’re leaving.”

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡-

❝【𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓶 𝓑𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓶】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  Almost there. ❜

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

A—kabane eased his foot off the gas as the car cruised down the empty road. The leather of his steering wheel was cool beneath his fingertips as the city lights blurred.

His mind was usually a fortress, a labyrinth of strategies and contingencies, but now, a single thought kept pushing its way through, disrupting his focus: Was she pregnant? 

The signs had been subtle—too subtle for anyone else to notice—but Akabane prided himself on noticing everything. It was enough for him to suspect, but not enough for him to be sure. 

Akabane tightened his grip on the wheel and his heart pounded in a way it hadn't in years. He had faced death more times than he could count, had looked it in the eye and smiled. But this—this was different. This was personal.

If she is, she's hiding it from me, Akabane thought, a wave of anger mixing with something more complicated. Why? What's her angle? He couldn't shake the feeling that [Y/n] was keeping this secret as part of some larger scheme. 

But why wouldn't she tell him? They were supposed to be 'enemies', but he had thought they had an understanding, a mutual respect—even if it was laced with the promise of eventual betrayal.

The idea that she could be hiding something so monumental from him gnawed at his insides like a festering wound.

He tried to stay calm, but the thoughts kept spiraling. Why didn't she tell me? The question echoed in his mind, unanswered. He turned it over and over, looking for the reasons, for the logic behind her actions.

Maybe she didn't want the baby. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Maybe she had been planning to get rid of it, to terminate the pregnancy before he ever found out. She could have done it without saying a word, he realized, a cold dread creeping up his spine. She might've already made up her mind.

She was always so good at hiding things, at manipulating situations to her advantage.

What if tonight hadn't happened ? The thought struck him hard. What if I hadn't brought her out here ? He might have continued on, none the wiser, while she quietly took care of the situation, erasing any trace of the life growing inside her. It made his blood run cold.

Akabane tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The idea of [Y/n] keeping something like this from him—something so intimately tied to both of them—felt like a betrayal. He'd always known she was capable of deception; it was part of the job, part of who they were. But this was different. This wasn't just about them; it was about a potential child, a life that connected them in a way nothing else ever could.

What was her plan? He wondered. His mind was now filled with suspicion and fear. Had she already decided? Was she just waiting for the right moment to slip away, to handle it without him ever knowing? The thought of her going through something like that alone, without telling him, was almost unbearable. It wasn't just the act itself—it was the idea that she could cut him out of something so important, so personal.

He looked over at her. Her profile was illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights. She seemed so calm, so composed, as if none of this was weighing on her the way it was on him. 

But then, that was her specialty, wasn't it? Keeping everything under control, showing only what she wanted the world to see.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Not at her, but at the situation they were in. At the twisted world they lived in, where trust was a commodity, where love was a liability. He'd spent so much time planning every move, every contingency, but this—this had blindsided him.

If she was planning to get rid of the baby, if she was keeping this from him because she didn't want him to be a part of it, he needed to know.

Akabane stared at her, his emotions a chaotic mix of anger, fear, and something else—something deeper, something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. Vulnerability.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel as he considered his next move. If she was pregnant, it would change everything. Not just the game they were playing, but his plans, his life, their lives. And if she thought she could keep him in the dark, she was mistaken. He wasn't the type to wait for answers to fall into his lap. He was going to force her hand.

She won't admit it on her own, he mused, eyes narrowing as he began to formulate a plan. She was too clever, too stubborn. She'd deny it, play it off, and keep him guessing. 

Unless... unless he put her in a position where she couldn't hide anymore. Where her silence would be her confession.

An idea began to take shape in his mind, growing more concrete with each passing second. 

He'd stage something that would put [Y/n] in just enough danger to elicit a reaction—but not enough to actually harm her or the potential child. It would need to be believable, just risky enough to make her reveal her hand. He'd ensure she thought her life—or more importantly, the life inside her—was truly at risk. Only then would she drop the façade and reveal the truth.

Akabane's lips curved into a cold smile as he leaned forward. The plan was set, the pieces were in motion, and soon, he would know the truth. And when he did, he'd be the one controlling the board once again. If she was carrying his child, she'd have no choice but to admit it. And when that happened, he would have the upper hand—not just in their game of assassination, but in everything that came after.

But as he began to finalize the details, a flicker of something unexpected crossed his mind—a hint of uncertainty, a sliver of doubt. What then? The question lingered, unbidden and unwelcome, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to think that far ahead. Not yet. First, he needed to know the truth.

And then... then he would deal with whatever came next.

He couldn't let this uncertainty continue; he needed to hear her say it, to know for sure. As the car pulled back onto the road, the city lights flickered in the distance, and a dark resolve settled over him. 

He would get his answers, one way or another—no matter how far he had to go.

"Almost there," he said to her in a calm, steady voice. His eyes briefly met hers with a cheerful smile before he returning to the road. "I'm taking you to my place, so hold tight."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧-

❝【𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓴】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛  I'm going to carve my name

 into you so you never

 forget. ❜

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙏𝙒: 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨, 𝘾𝙪𝙩𝙨, 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙢 ↲ ✗

T—he ball was a blur behind them now. The faint buzz of clinking glasses and whispered gossip was quickly replaced by the silence of the night, broken only by the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet as Akabane led [Y/n] down the dimly lit street. 

She hadn't said a word since her breakdown earlier. Her eyes were hollow and distant. The crisp night air bit at her skin, but it wasn't enough to numb the turmoil raging inside her.

Akabane glanced at her as they walked. He'd known [Y/n] long enough to recognize when something was wrong. Tonight's breakdown was strange. Different. There had to be something deeper behind it. 

But [Y/n] wouldn't admit it, not to herself, and definitely not to him. She was still clinging to the hate she harbored for him. She kept that hate alive because it was easier than facing the truth—easier than acknowledging anything else.

They reached the apartment and Akabane closed the door softly behind them. [Y/n] moved mechanically. Her mind was still miles away. She barely noticed Akabane's calculating gaze as he watched her, piecing together the next move. 

She was fragile now, teetering on the edge, and he could easily push her over.

This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He had been expecting something different—maybe a verbal sparring match that would heat up into something more, but this...this sadness still? He hadn't anticipated it.

He sighed inwardly. This was more complicated than he'd planned. He wasn't great with this kind of thing, but he wasn't going to just ignore her emotions either. He had to find a way to pull her out of this funk, to comfort her, while still steering things in the direction he'd wanted.

Instead of diving straight into a conversation, Karma shifted tactics. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her in a gentle embrace. It was a rare gesture from him, but he wanted her to feel somewhat okay. 

"You don't have to talk right now if you don't want to," he whispered into her hair. "But I'll hold you until you feel better. A little bit atleast."

[Y/n] rested her head against his chest, and shortly after her body began relaxing into his warmth. His scent was familiar and oddly enough it was comforting. Karma held her for a while. His fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, trying to ease the tension she was holding onto.

As the minutes passed, her breathing started to steady, and Karma could feel her mood shifting, if only slightly. She wasn't as closed off now, and that was progress. 

He tilted her chin up gently, looking into her eyes. "You alright?" he asked softly, his lips hovering just inches from hers.

[Y/n] gave a small nod, still unsure but visibly more relaxed than before.

Karma smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over her lower lip. "Good," he murmured before leaning in to kiss her, soft at first, testing the waters.

The kiss lingered, soft and patient, as if Akabane was gauging her reaction with every passing second. [Y/n] didn't pull away, but she didn't lean into him either. Her body was still hesitant, stuck. Akabane paused, his lips just brushing hers, waiting for her to reciprocate.

After a moment, [Y/n] parted her lips, just slightly. It was enough of a sign for Akabane to deepen the kiss. His hand cupped her jaw with more confidence now. He felt her relax, her body was slowly responding. Her fingers tentatively curled into the fabric of his suit as if trying to ground herself.

Her lips moved with him, but her body remained tense, uncertain. He deepened the kiss slightly, hoping to coax more out of her, but she remained guarded.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers."You're thinking too much," He whispered.

She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and Karma took that as enough. He leaned in again, pressing another gentle kiss to her.

[Y/n] tensed at the contact, her mind still lingering on the weight of the night, but something about the softness of Karma's kiss pulled her back to the present. 

The hesitation she felt seemed to melt away, if only for a moment. Her fingers curled into his suit some more, gripping it as though she were holding on to the only thing tethering her to reality.

Karma let his hands slide down her sides, but he kept his movements slow and deliberate, careful not to overwhelm her. He could sense the vulnerability beneath her tough exterior, the cracks in the armor she so desperately tried to keep intact.

He was always too close, too sharp, and too much. The hate she harbored for him had always been easier than the confusion he made her feel. But in this moment, it was harder to keep up those walls.

[Y/n] looked up at him. Her eyes were searching his for something—reassurance, maybe, or an answer she wasn't sure she really wanted. Akabane, for all his sharp edges and snide remarks, had an unexpected way of disarming her when she least expected it.

Karma pulled back slightly and his forehead rested against hers yet again. He studied her expression carefully. The vulnerability in her eyes  was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. 

This wasn't the [Y/n] he was used to. She wasn't her sharp, resilient self tonight. She was exposed in a way he rarely saw, and it made him pause.

"Talk to me," he said quietly, his fingers still lightly tracing her skin. "Tell me what's really going on in that head of yours."

[Y/n] blinked. Her eyes focused on his for the first time that night. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then quickly shut it again, turning her head away.

Karma sighed. "You can hate me later, but right now, I need you to stop pretending everything's fine." His voice wasn't sharp or demanding; it was calm, coaxing, trying to draw her back into the present.

She let out a shaky breath, and her fingers unconsciously clutched the fabric of his suit jacket even tighter. The weight of her silence felt heavy, but she finally muttered, "It's not just about what you said earlier..."

Karma's brow furrowed. "Then what is it?"

[Y/n] pulled back slightly, though she didn't leave his embrace. Her gaze flicked away again, finding solace in the shadows of the room. "It's everything," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You. This...I don't even know why I'm here with you right now."

As the words left her lips, [Y/n] felt the weight of their truth settle in her chest. Why was she here with him? She knew this was dangerous—stupid, even. Kissing Karma, being vulnerable around him, it all felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the ground could give way beneath her at any second. 

Karma was unpredictable, a force she couldn't control, and that terrified her more than she cared to admit.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, but her gaze stayed unfocused, lost in the swirling chaos of her thoughts. 

Being with Karma was like trying to tame a storm—thrilling and intoxicating, but impossible. She could never be sure of his motives, never certain if this was real or if he was just playing another one of his games.

Because that's what Karma did, didn't he? He played with people, with their emotions, and she had willingly stepped right into it. What if this was all part of some elaborate scheme? What if, after tonight, he decided she wasn't worth the trouble, discarded her like one of his many conquests? 

Worse, what if he took her vulnerability and used it against her? He'd done it before with others. There was no telling what he might do next.

A sick feeling twisted in her gut. Kissing him like this, letting her guard down—it was reckless. She was purposefully putting her life in his hands, knowing full well he could crush her if he wanted to. She was walking a tightrope, and Karma was the one holding the line. One wrong move, one flick of his wrist, and she'd fall.

"I'm playing with fire," she whispered to herself more than him. Her voice was laced with doubt.

With Karma she could never be sure.

That kiss... It felt real, but she had no way of knowing if any of this was. Was this just part of some grander manipulation, another twist in the endless mind games they played? She had no way of telling if the tenderness in his touch was genuine or if it would morph into something cold and unforgiving. 

That was the terrifying part—the not knowing.

Karma could turn on her at any moment. He was capable of anything. One minute he was soft, gentle, like now—holding her like she mattered, like she was something more than just a pawn in his schemes. 

But the next minute? He could tear her apart. He could leave her shattered without a second thought. That was the part that haunted her the most. There was no predicting what he'd do next.

He was a wild card—someone she couldn't control, couldn't read. And that scared her more than she was willing to admit. Because somewhere along the line, she had stopped caring about the danger and started craving it. Craving him.

Her heart was in her throat as she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for any sign, any hint of malice or calculation, but all she saw was calm. Calm, and something else—something unfamiliar. But that didn't mean anything. Karma was a master of deception. 

Her lips trembled as she tried to steady her breathing. "I don't know if any of this is real," she admitted, her voice laced with fear and frustration. "And that terrifies me." 

She was terrified because she could see no clear path forward. Not with him. There was no telling what he'd do next.

Karma felt a flicker of something in his chest—regret, maybe? He wasn't sure. "You're here because you shouldn't be alone right now," he said softly, not allowing her to pull away further. "And I'm not letting you be."

He pressed his lips against her forehead this time, lingering in the softness of the moment. It wasn't the exchange he had originally anticipated when they left the ball. It wasn't the usual game they played, filled with biting remarks and competitive energy. This was different. It was more intimate, more raw.

[Y/n] leaned into him again, the tension melting from her frame as her guard slowly crumbled. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't strong or defiant. With Karma holding her like this, she allowed herself to just be—lost, vulnerable, unsure.

Akabane tightened his hold on her, a silent acknowledgment of what she couldn't say aloud. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, his grip on her tightened. He studied her face, taking in every flicker of doubt, every sign of fear. 

He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her lips, but he didn't kiss her again—not yet.

Instead, his voice dropped, low and serious. "You're right," he said, the playful edge that usually colored his words absent. "You don't know if this is real. You don't know what I'm going to do next."

He paused, his fingers brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear with a tenderness that seemed out of place given the weight of the conversation. "I'm unpredictable, yeah."

Karma's gaze bore into hers, intense, as if he was daring her to keep looking at him, to stay in the moment despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

He let his words sink in and his tone softened as his hand moved to rest on the back of her neck, grounding. "I could hurt you," he said quietly, his voice raw with honesty. "I'm not going to lie about that. I won't pretend I couldn't."

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy and unsettling, but there was something more—something in his tone that made it clear this wasn't a threat. "But I want to keep you safe too."

It wasn't a request for trust. Karma knew better than to ask for that, especially from her. He didn't expect her to believe in him blindly, not after everything. But this moment, raw and unfiltered, was the closest he had ever come to showing her the truth.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as her lips met his again, this time with more urgency, more need.

She hated how easily he could pull her in, how effortlessly he could play her emotions. She hated him for it. And yet, she couldn't quite seem to truly care about any of it.

His words were like silk, wrapping around her, and for a split second, [Y/n] let herself believe the illusion of safety he was offering.

He led her to the kitchen, with his fingers threading between hers. His touch was almost tender, but [Y/n] could sense something beneath it—something lurking just out of reach. 

Still, she found herself surrendering to him, trusting him. Akabane had always been a bit unpredictable, but there was no denying how drawn she was to him.

Karma's hands slid down her waist with practiced ease. His touch lingered on the fabric of her dress  briefly before he zipped it down and slipped it off, leaving [Y/n] in nothing but her underwear. 

His eyes lingered on her. "I knew it," he muttered with a mix of amusement and something else. "They've gotten bigger." His voice was soft, teasing, but laced with a curious edge that made her heart race.

The cool marble counter pressed against her back as he guided her onto it, and his lips brushed against her neck with deliberate slowness.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice deceptively sweet. His fingers grazed her sides, lighting fires wherever they touched.

"Mhm," [Y/n] murmured, letting her eyes drift shut as his mouth traced the sensitive skin of her collarbone.

His lips ghosted against her skin as he continued, "Good."

She was laid bare in front of him. But there was something about the way he was looking at her—like he was hunting, waiting for the right moment to strike. It should have made her nervous, but instead, it fueled the growing heat between them.

Karma leaned in, pressing his body against hers, his mouth moving to claim hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was intoxicating, and she found herself melting into him, allowing herself to be lost in the moment. But just as her defenses lowered, he pulled away, leaving her breathless and confused.

Her confusion deepened when she heard the unmistakable sound of metal sliding against the countertop. Her eyes fluttered open to see Karma holding a sleek, gleaming knife in his hand.

"Akabane?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice laced with curiosity.

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a sly smile. "Don't be scared."

Akabane twirled the knife between his fingers, letting the blade catch the light before bringing it close. Then he brought the blade to her skin, trailing it down the side of her neck, barely grazing the surface. "Let's play a little game?" His voice was almost a whisper now, intimate and dangerous. 

She knew this game—knew it all too well. [Y/n] watched him closely, her heartbeat quickening, but not with fear. Instead, it was with anticipation.

Akabane's knife moved lower, tracing the outline of her collarbone before dipping toward her stomach, where it lingered. 

"I could do anything, you know?" he mused, his voice deceptively soft, almost curious. "But you're still here... trusting me."

He tilted his head, studying her expression, gauging every flicker of fear, every moment of doubt that passed through her eyes. Slowly, he pressed the tip of the knife against her skin, letting it drag ever so slightly along her stomach.

It was enough to make her tense, but she didn't push him away. She stood her ground, eyes locked on his.

"Not even scared?" he asked, arching a brow. He pushed the blade a fraction deeper—not enough to break skin, but enough to feel the weight of what he could do.

But she didn't falter. She stared up at him, silent.

Karma smirked, and for a moment, it seemed like he would. His grip on the handle tightened, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut. But then, at the last second, he diverted the knife, pulling it away with a swift flick of his wrist.

"Relax," he cooed, gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I wouldn't do anything too crazy." He paused, running the tip of the blade lightly up to her collarbone yet again. 

[Y/n] felt her breath hitch as the cold steel of the knife pressed harder into her skin.

There was a part of her that trusted he wouldn't actually hurt her. At least, not like this. But then again, Karma always had his own way of doing things—never straightforward, always twisting the knife just when she thought she had him figured out.

"You know," he began casually, "most of these knives are professional-grade. Could probably slice through anything without much effort."

[Y/n] didn't bother looking, assuming he was just being his usual, sadistic self. But then she felt it—a sudden cold press against her neck. Her eyes shot wide, panic flickering in her chest as she glanced down at the knife he held so close to her skin.

Karma leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "There's something you're not telling me, [Y/n]. Something... important."

"Karma, if this is your way of getting me to talk dirty, you're doing a terrible job."

Karma didn't answer. Instead his focus shifted to her thigh. He dragged the knife slowly along her skin, making sure she felt every cold inch of the blade before stopping at the tender flesh near her hip. He pressed down just enough to leave an impression, enough to make her squirm but not enough to break the skin.

And then, without warning, he carved the first sharp line into her skin—a precise cut, not too deep, but enough for her to feel it. She hissed in surprise, her body jerking slightly as pain bloomed across her inner thigh.

[Y/n] was speechless for a moment, her heart racing as she tried to process what had just happened. She was used to his games, used to his playful sadism, but this—this was different. There was something serious about the way he was looking at her now, something possessive and calculating.

Karma's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he wiped a small drop of blood from her thigh with his thumb. "I enjoy marking what's mine," he said casually.

Then Akabane leaned in, his lips brushing over the fresh cut on her thigh, his voice low and dangerous. "You're mine, [Y/n].

Her mind whirled, torn between the sharp sting of pain and the confusing allure of his touch. Part of her wanted to push him away, demand an explanation, but another part of her—the twisted, more primal part—was drawn to the way he commanded her body, the way he made her feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

"You're... serious," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as he pressed another kiss to her thigh.

"I'm always serious," Karma replied smoothly, his lips curling into a smirk as he moved the knife lower, teasing her with the sharp edge.

[Y/n] swallowed hard, her thoughts scrambling as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this still just a game? Or was there something more to it, something she wasn't seeing?

She opened her mouth to speak, but Karma silenced her with a soft kiss. His hands moved to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, swallowing her words. His lips were demanding, his touch firm, and for a moment, she forgot the knife entirely. All she could focus on was him—his body, his presence, the way he made her feel so completely at his mercy.

"Shh," he whispered against her mouth. 

She exhaled slowly. Her body relaxed into his touch despite the strange sense of unease curling in her stomach. Karma was always unpredictable, but this felt different. The knife, though... she figured he was just being kinky, trying something new to spice things up. 

He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze again. His expression was still unreadable. Slowly, almost tenderly, he dragged the blade up her thigh yet again, and the cold metal made her shiver. [Y/n] bit her lip, her breath hitching as she watched him, still unsure of where this was going.

"Do you know why I like you so much?" Karma asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. He pressed the tip of the blade against her skin again.

"Why?" she asked, her voice a little breathless, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions and sensations he was pulling her through.

"Because you're stubborn," he replied, his lips curving into a smile as he pressed a kiss to her neck. 

His words hung in the air, and before she could respond, she felt the blade press deeper into her thigh. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let her know he wasn't playing around anymore. The cold kiss of the knife's edge was replaced with a sharp sting as he carved the initial "K" into her skin from the previous line he had placed. 

Her breath caught, but she didn't flinch. 

Karma leaned back slightly, admiring his work with a satisfied smirk.

"I'm going to carve my name into you so you never forget."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬^ 𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗘-

❝【𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 & 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Tell me to stop. ❜

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙏𝙒: 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙄𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨, 𝘾𝙪𝙩𝙨, 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙢, 

𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙂𝙪𝙣 ↲ ✗

K—arma didn't want to do this. His grip on the blade tightened as if that could steel his resolve. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop, to throw the weapon aside. But he couldn't. Not when that possibility loomed in his mind, gnawing at him like a parasite, and the only way forward was through.  

A thin line of crimson appeared as he dragged the blade gently down her stomach, careful to avoid anything deeper than the surface layer of skin. His heart pounded, each beat thundering in his ears. He thought she'd stop him. He thought she'd cry out, shove him away, and admit everything. That would've been easier.  

But she didn't.  

The signs were there, impossible to ignore. She wasn't eating like she used to. She'd grown quieter, more reserved in ways that didn't suit her. And then there were the physical changes, subtle but glaringly obvious if you knew what to look for. He had to know if what he suspected was true.  

But she wouldn't break. 

Instead, she lied there, tense but silent, glaring up at him with a defiance that only made his frustration grow.  

She let him do it, let him press the blade to her skin without fighting back. And that shattered something inside him.  

He stared down at her, his jaw clenched tightly, his mind at war with itself. This wasn't something he truly wanted to do. It wasn't in his nature to hurt her like this.

"[Y/n]," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse as he tossed the knife aside. His hand wavered momentarily as he pressed a cloth to the shallow cut, the stark red against the white almost too much for him to bear.  

"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" he sighed, dabbing at the wound. She hissed in pain, her body jerking instinctively, but he held her steady with his free hand.

"Stop squirming." 

His crimson eyes which had been sharp and teasing, were unreadable. "You could've stopped me," he said finally, his voice strained.  

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Stop you?"  

He pressed the cloth against her wound a little too hard, making her flinch. "Don't play dumb with me, [Y/n]. You know exactly what I mean."  

[Y/n] didn't understand. Of course she didn't. How could she know what was driving him? 

She blinked, unsure how to respond. His gaze then softened. He wasn't sure he wanted to do this anymore—not like this atleast.  

She didn't flinch away from him as he pressed the cloth against her wound harder, trying to stem the small flow of blood. His hands were firm but trembling, and his jaw tightened as he stared down at her.

And then, to Akabane's surprise, [Y/n]'s hand moved. Slowly, deliberately, she trailed her fingers up his dress shirt, her touch ever so light.

Karma froze. His thoughts scattered, and for a moment, all he could do was watch her. What was she doing?  

Her hand reached his collar, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. She pulled slightly, her breathing still uneven but steady enough to betray her control.  

"What are you—"  

"Is this what you want, Karma?" she whispered, her voice soft and teasing but laced with something darker. "To see me break? Or do you just want to take something from me?"  

[Y/n] wasn't making sense of it all, and her mind raced to fill in the blanks. Was this some kind of power play? Some way for him to feed off her vulnerability? She'd heard of people like that—people who thrived on the pain or energy of others.  

Akabane seemed like the kind of guy to get a kick out of that. It was currently the most logical of explanations.

Fine, she thought. If that's what he wants, she'd give it to him.  

For a moment Akabane considered pulling away, regaining control of the situation. But her fingers brushed against his neck, and his resolve wavered.  

"Stop," he said, but his voice lacked the conviction to make it an order.  

[Y/n]'s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, and her gaze locked onto Akabane's with an intensity that made his breath hitch. She leaned up slightly, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur that seemed to wrap around him like smoke.  

"Why is it," she began, her tone smooth and unhurried, "that you get to cut me, hold me down, and do whatever you want... but I'm not allowed to touch you?"  

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, laced with defiance and something far more dodgy. Karma's crimson eyes widened slightly before narrowing. His expression flickered between disbelief and something else.  

"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice low and sharp as he tried to regain control. "To touch me?"  

[Y/n] tilted her head, her fingers still toying with the collar of his shirt. She leaned in just enough for her breath to ghost against his skin.

"Would it bother you if I did?" she countered, her lips curving into a smirk. "Or are you afraid you'd like it too much?"  

She was baiting him, and he knew it. But damn if she wasn't good at it.  

"You think you know me so well," he muttered, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure.  

"I know enough," she whispered, her eyes dipping to his lips for a fleeting moment before meeting his gaze again. "I know you're not as unaffected as you pretend to be."  

Karma's resolve cracked. His hand moved before he could think, gripping her wrist and pulling her hand away from his collar. The force wasn't rough, but it was enough to send a clear message—or at least, that's what he told himself.  

"You're playing games with me, [Y/n]," he warned, though it lacked its usual edge.  

[Y/n] leaned closer, her lips just a breath away from his ear. "And you like it," she purred, her voice dripping with confidence.  

For a moment, neither of them moved. Karma's fingers tightened around her wrist. He hated how effortlessly she turned the tables.  

But what he hated more was how much he wanted to close the distance between them now.  

"Karma.." She whispered, her voice softer now, almost teasing. 

His eyes narrowed as if he wasn't sure how to respond. "Yeah, killer?"  

Her lips parted, but no words came out, and Karma's frown deepened as he stared at her.  

"[Y/n]?"  

"I hate you," she said, but there was no venom behind the words. Instead, they sounded hollow, like an echo of something she didn't truly mean.  

Karma's lips quirked up into a small smirk, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Oh, yeah?" he drawled, his tone low and teasing. 

"I do," she insisted.

"Well, isn't that a problem?" he said, his voice a low rumble. "Because if you hate me so much, why are you looking at me this way."

Her gaze flickered to his lips before darting away. "I don't know," she admitted.

Karma chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he leaned back slightly to meet her eyes. "You hate me so much, yet here you are." He teased.

For a moment, they were locked in a silent standoff, neither willing to back down.

"Go ahead," Karma said suddenly. "Kiss me if that's what you want so badly. But don't pretend it's out of hatred. We both know better."

[Y/n] scoffed, her pride bristling at his arrogance. "You're so full of yourself."

"Maybe," he admitted, his grin sharp and teasing. "But we both knew that already."

"I hate you, Akabane." Her hand tightened around his shirt again and her other hand joined it.

Her words were angry, defiant, but her touch was anything but.

Akabane's lips twitched into a bitter smirk. "You hate me?"

"I do," she shot back, her voice shaking slightly. "I hate you so much it makes me sick."  

Her other hand moved now, sliding down his chest and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. "But for some reason," she muttered, more to herself than to him, "I can't stop this..."  

She cursed herself inwardly, her frustration mounting with every second. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to feel this way—especially not about him. 

Karma's eyes dilated as he watched her, his mind rushing to keep up with what was happening. Her movements were clumsy, almost desperate, but there was no mistaking her intent.  

For a moment, he didn't know what to do. He'd been so focused on uncovering the truth, so consumed by his own need for answers, that he hadn't considered this happening.

And now, as she pulled him closer, her lips brushing against his neck in a way that made his breath hitch, he realized he didn't care about that.

They'd get back to the truth later.  

For now, all that mattered was her.  

He helped her unbutton his shirt, "I hate you," she said again, her voice trembling. "But I can't stop...I can't stop wanting you." 

"[Y/n]," he started, but the words caught in his throat.  

She pulled him closer and her lips ghosted over his, her breath warm and shaky against his skin. "I give in," she whispered. "Whatever you need from me...just take it. Cut the bullshit."  

He didn't know when his motive had changed, when the need for answers had given way to a need for her. But now, all he wanted was to lose himself in her, to drown out the guilt and confusion with the heat of her touch.  

"Karma," she whispered as his lips trailed down her neck.  

"Tell me to stop," he tried restraining himself. He gave [Y/n] the option to back out now. To tell him this wasn't what she really wanted. That it was a moment of weakness. A diversion of some sort.

"I don't want you to stop," she admitted honestly.

His restraint broke. Whatever hesitation he'd been holding onto dissolved as he pressed his lips to hers, his hands tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer.  

She responded immediately, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Her mind was still a mess of conflicting emotions, but she couldn't stop herself.  

Not now. Not with him.

Karma's lips pressed firmly against hers, and the kiss was anything but soft. It was desperate, raw, and consuming, as if he was trying to pour everything he felt—his frustration, guilt, and yearning—into that moment.  

Her hands tugged at his shirt, fumbling with the fabric until she finally pushed it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the ground. His own hands slid down her sides with hesitant reverence, as though he wasn't sure he had the right to touch her.  

Her skin was warm under his fingertips, and her breath hitched as his touch grew bolder. But his hands paused and he pulled back slightly, his crimson eyes locking onto hers.  

"[Y/n]..." His voice was rough, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of his uncertainty. 

She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her mind still spinning. She hated him—she had to. But the way his hands trembled slightly against her skin, the way his normally confident demeanor softened in this moment, made her heart ache in ways she didn't want to admit.  

"Don't stop," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back toward her. "I mean it."

He exhaled shakily, his resolve slipping further as he leaned back in. This time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate. His lips moved against hers with a tenderness that caught her off guard, as though he was savoring every second.  

His hands began to move again, tracing the curve of her waist before sliding up her back. He took his time, exploring every inch of her with a carefulness that didn't match the earlier sharpness of his actions. It was as if he was trying to memorize her, to commit her to memory in case this was the only time he'd ever have her like this.  

Her fingers worked at the buttons of his pants, her movements growing more frantic as her need for him deepened. But when she finally managed to undo them, his hands covered hers, stopping her.  

"Slow down," he murmured against her lips, his breath warm and unsteady. "We have time."  

His lips brushed against her jaw, then trailed down to her neck, where he paused to press soft, lingering kisses along her skin. She found herself tilting her head to give him better access.  

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her neck, his voice so quiet she almost didn't hear it.  

The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache, and she hated how much she wanted to believe him. But there was no time to dwell on it, not when his hands were sliding up her thighs, his touch igniting a fire in her she couldn't ignore.  

Her head fell back as he kissed his way down her chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her nails grazed his scalp as she clung to him.

She wanted to respond, to say something biting or deflective, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she closed her eyes, letting herself focus on the sensation of his mouth moving against her skin, the heat of his breath, the way his hands moved over her with a mix of restraint and yearning.

As his lips traveled lower, brushing just above the shallow cut he'd made earlier, she tensed. He paused, staring at the thin line of crimson against her skin. A wave of guilt surged through him.

But then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss just above the wound. Her breath hitched as his tongue darted out, carefully tracing the cut. The sharp sting made her body tense. A hiss escaped her lips, but the sensation quickly morphed into something she couldn't describe. The burn was there, but so was the warmth of his tongue, the tenderness in his touch.

Her fingers found their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands as she pulled him closer. She couldn't tell if it was the blood loss, the adrenaline, or simply him, but her head felt light, her body caught in a storm of sensations. 

The sting of the wound mingled with the warmth of his tongue as he licked along the thin line of blood. The sensation was strange—part pain, part pleasure—and it made her head spin.

The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue as he straightened, his eyes were dark as they met hers. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her again, letting her taste it. Her own blood—sharp and tangy, with a hint of warmth that was oddly intoxicating—mixed between their mouths. It was intimate in a way she hadn't expected, raw and primal and utterly consuming.

Her initial reaction was shock, her instincts telling her to pull away. But as the kiss deepened, the strangeness of the act melted into something else entirely. The taste of her own blood, combined with the way his lips moved against hers with an almost desperate need, sent a surge of emotion through her that she couldn't quite name.

It was overwhelming. The pain, the vulnerability, the intensity of his touch—all of it blurred together until she wasn't sure where one feeling ended and another began. 

"You're insane," she whispered against his lips when they broke apart.

His forehead rested against hers, his breath mingling with hers as he smirked faintly. "And you're addicted to it," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

She didn't deny it. She couldn't. Not when her body was still aching for more of his touch. Instead, she closed the gap between them again, pulling him into another kiss.

If this was madness, then she'd gladly let it consume her.

Their kissing carried on for a moment more before Karma suddenly stilled, breaking the fervent rhythm of their entangled breaths. His hands then slackened their grip on her, sliding away like water slipping through her finger.

His lips lingered against hers for a beat longer before he pulled back abruptly.

[Y/n] blinked up at him, her breath ragged and chest heaving. "What—"

He didn't respond. Instead, his silhouette disappeared behind the counter, the sharp sound of his footsteps fading into the kitchen. The air between them grew heavier with his absence, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"Karma?" she called, her voice unsteady. "Where are you going?"

There was no answer. Just the faint sound of drawers opening and closing. Her confusion only deepened when she heard the metallic clang of something heavy being placed on the counter.

When he returned, he didn't meet her gaze. His crimson eyes were shadowed, unreadable, as he rested the object between them with a calculated clunk.

It took her a moment to register what it was.

A gun.

[Y/n]'s breath hitched. Her eyes darted between the weapon and Akabane. "Karma," she began, her voice trembling. "What... what are you doing?"

It sat there, ominous and cold, the dim light catching on its polished surface.

"Are you sure you trust me?"

Her throat felt dry. She tried to speak, to say something, anything, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

He tilted his head, his gaze never wavering. "If you're so sure," he continued, his tone dark and deliberate, "let's play a game."

Her stomach twisted, and she shook her head slightly, unsure if she heard him right. "A game?" she echoed, her voice barely audible.

His lips curled into a sharp smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Let me play Russian roulette in your pussy."

Chapter Text

-𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬-

❝【𝓔𝓶𝓹𝓽𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓹】❞

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

❛ Do you trust me? ❜

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

✗ ↱ 𝙏𝙒: 𝙖 𝙂𝙪𝙣, 𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝘾𝙪𝙩𝙨, 

𝙎𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 ↲ ✗

[Y—/n] stared at Akabane, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, any indication that this was some cruel joke. But his expression remained stoic, unwavering.

She pushed herself up on her elbows, her gaze flickering between the gun and his face. "Trust you? Trust you? After you've spent the last week playing me like a fiddle? First, you act like you care, then you put me in harm's way, then you—" She stopped herself, biting down on her words. 

His unpredictability was maddening. Was this some kind of test?

"What is this about?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the chaos in her head. "What are you trying to prove?"

"I think you know," he said, his voice low and venomous. "But you're not saying it. So I'm left with one question."

She was laid bare before him on the table, her pulse pounding in her ears, her breaths slow and deliberate. His crimson eyes gleamed with that familiar, infuriating mix of mischief and menace.  

In his hand was the gun.  

"Do you trust me?" he asked again, his voice low and smooth, like the edge of a knife sliding across silk.  

[Y/n] narrowed her eyes, all the while her stomach twisted. This wasn't the first time she'd been in a life-or-death situation with Karma Akabane, but it was the first time she couldn't read his intentions.  

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she asked, masking her confusion with a sharp edge to her voice.  

His smirk deepened, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. He spun the gun's cylinder, the clicking sound echoing like a countdown. "Not at all. I'm dead serious."  

Her gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to him. "What are you doing, Karma?"  

"Playing a game." He held the gun up, examining it like it was a piece of fine art. "Russian roulette. I'm sure you know the rules."  

Her stomach dropped. "You're insane."  

"Maybe," he said, his eyes snapping back to hers. He leaned closer, the gun resting lightly against her collarbone. "But humor me. One bullet, one chamber. You've got a one-in-six chance of losing...well, something important."  

Her throat tightened as he slowly pulled back, lifting the gun to his own temple. He pulled the trigger.  

Click.  

Nothing.  

She flinched anyway, her muscles tensing involuntarily. Karma smiled, as if he'd just won a prize.  

"See?" he said. "Harmless. Your turn."  

Her mouth went dry. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm letting you pull that trigger on me."  

"That's not how trust works, [Y/n]," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He circled her like a predator, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving hers. "It's a game of odds. Do you trust me enough to pull the trigger?"  

She stared at him, her mind racing. His eyes tracked her every movement—the way her chest rose and fell, the subtle clench of her jaw, the flicker of doubt that flashed across her face before she smothered it. He was analyzing her, dissecting her, searching for something she couldn't quite put her finger on.  

"There's no bullet in that chamber," she said finally, her voice steady.  

He tilted his head, intrigued. "You sound confident."  

"Because this is just another one of your mind games. You wouldn't kill me."  

"Wouldn't I?" he asked, his voice soft and dangerous.  

Her heart pounded against her ribs, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "No. You wouldn't."  

Karma leaned in closer, his hand brushing over her knee as he dragged the gun downward. She fought the urge to pull away, keeping her expression impassive. 

He wouldn't actually load the gun, would he? She wanted to believe he was bluffing, that this was just another one of his twisted mind games. But then she thought of the cut on her stomach, the sharp sting of the blade he'd drawn across her skin without warning or hesitation.  

She clenched her jaw, her voice cold. "Do it."  

Karma raised a brow, clearly intrigued. His voice was calm, too calm, as the barrel of the gun settled between her thighs. "Ready?"  

She stared him down, refusing to flinch. "Pull the trigger."  

Click.  

The sound made her stomach flip, but she didn't let it show.  

"Keep going," she said while steadying her voice.

Karma paused, watching her carefully. "You sure?"  

"Yes," she said firmly. "There's no bullet in the chamber."  

He smirked again, but this time, there was something darker behind it. "Alright then."  

The pressure pressing between her legs disappeared as he raised the gun again, spinning the cylinder for effect. Her hands clenched into fists, and her nails dug into her palms. She told herself she was fine. She told herself this was a bluff.  

Click.  

Her body tensed involuntarily, but her expression didn't waver. She wouldn't let him see how close she was to breaking.  

"Two," he said, his voice softer this time.  

He spun the cylinder again, slower now, as if savoring the moment. Her stomach twisted, the ache from the cut he'd made earlier pulsing with every heartbeat.  Then he spun it again, seemingly unsatisfied with the first one.

Click.  

Her mask of confidence faltered for a split second, and she saw his smirk widen, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. But then she noticed it—his fingers, trembling ever so slightly.  

Was he scared?  

Her mind raced, second-guessing everything. If he was nervous, did that mean he'd put a bullet in the chamber after all? Did she really know him as well as she thought?  

The third pull felt different. Karma's movements were slower. He glanced at her, and for a split second, she thought she saw hesitation in his eyes.  

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "You sure you want to keep going?"  

She met his gaze, her chest tight, her hands shaking ever so slightly now. But she refused to back down. Even as her instincts screamed at her to stop, she stared him down, her voice unwavering.  

"Yes," she said firmly. "There's no bullet in there. You wouldn't do it."  

For a moment, his expression flickered. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his trademark smirk.  

"Four," he said, spinning the cylinder again, his movements slower now, as if even he was unsure.  

Click.  

Her heart was in her throat, but she didn't dare break eye contact. Her palms were slick with sweat, her breathing shallow, but she pushed forward, refusing to let him win.  

"You're crazy," he said, almost laughing now. "Completely insane."  

His smirk turned almost gentle, as if he were proud of her. "One more," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

Her mouth went dry, but she nodded. "Do it."  

Karma tilted his head, his gaze boring into hers. "You're positive?"  

"Yes," she hissed. "There's no bullet. Pull the trigger, Akabane."  

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're incredible, you know that?" He spun the cylinder one last time, but he didn't pull the trigger.

Karma set the gun down on the counter, his shoulders relaxing. "Impressive."

[Y/n] lied there frozen. Her mind wouldn't stop replaying the sound of the clicks over and over as Karma's words settled like a stone in her stomach. He hadn't moved, not yet. Instead, he lingered by the counter, his fingers brushing over the revolver, his demeanor maddeningly calm.  

"There was a bullet in it the whole time," he said casually, as if announcing the weather.  

Her breath hitched, and she turned to face him fully, her face pale. "What?"  

He met her gaze, his smirk creeping back into place, but this time, there was no humor in it—just a cold, calculated amusement that made her blood run cold.  

"A bullet," he repeated, tapping the side of the gun. "One. Right here." He rotated the cylinder and pointed to a tiny, barely visible scratch etched into the metal.  

He held the gun out to her, barrel open, and her eyes immediately zeroed in on the scratch he'd pointed out. Her stomach churned as she followed his hand, watched him spin the cylinder until the bullet came into view—a single, gleaming piece of metal resting in its slot.

[Y/n] blinked, her heart racing. "You... marked it?" [Y/n] mentally replayed every second of their twisted game. Every deliberate spin, every calculated pause—it had all been orchestrated. "You...you rigged it."

"Of course," he said simply as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "But the bullet was real, and the stakes were real. That's what makes the game interesting, doesn't it? Watching you squirm, trying to decide if I'm bluffing."

[Y/n] felt her stomach churn and bile rising in her throat. "You're sick, Karma. Completely and utterly sick."

He tilted his head and his crimson eyes gleamed with his usual mischief. "Maybe," he said. "But you played along, didn't you? You kept going. Why?"

Her throat tightened, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because I didn't think you'd actually put a bullet in it. I trusted you."

"That," he said, his voice calm and cutting, "was the point."

Karma spun the gun idly in his hand, the scratch on the chamber catching the light. "I wanted to know, [Y/n.]" His voice dropped. "I wanted to know how much trust you actually placed in me."

Her heart pounded against her ribs and her mind raced to keep up. There was always more to his actions. "Why?" she asked.

He leaned closer, his smirk returning, though this time it was almost pained. "Because it's insane," he said, his tone shifting from amused to dangerous. "You trusted me. You put your life—your actual, beating heart—in my hands. Despite everything you know about me. Despite knowing I didn't deserve it. And that..."

Karma paused, his gaze flickering briefly to the gun before returning to her. "That makes you crazier than I'll ever be."

[Y/n] felt her stomach twist. His words cut deeper than she wanted to admit, the implications sinking into her like jagged glass.

"You're at a disadvantage, you know," he continued, his voice soft but unrelenting. "Because the moment you put that kind of trust in me, you handed me power. And now, I know exactly how far you'll go for me. How much you'll risk for someone like me."

Her throat tightened, her palms slick with sweat as she stared at him. "You think this is some kind of victory?" she asked, her voice shaking. "That manipulating me into trusting you makes you stronger?"

Karma chuckled, low and humorless. "No," he said, his eyes narrowing. "It just means I win. And you? You lose. Because now, I know you'll trust me even when you shouldn't. And that's a weakness, [Y/n]. One I wouldn't hesitate to use against you."

Her chest tightened as his words sank in, the cruel reality of his twisted logic leaving her breathless. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Yes," she said firmly, her voice gaining strength. "Because if this was your way of proving something, you've only shown me one thing."

He raised a brow, clearly intrigued. "And what's that?"

"That you're scared," she said, her voice cold and unyielding. "You're scared of how much power I could have over you if you ever let your guard down."

For a moment, his expression faltered, the smirk slipping as her words struck a nerve. But then it returned, sharper and more defensive. "Maybe," he said, stepping back. "But that doesn't change the fact that you trusted me when you shouldn't have. And that makes you dangerous... to yourself."

The silence between them stretched, heavy and oppressive, but she refused to let him have the last word.  

"You were scared," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.  

The muscles in Akabane's shoulders tensed. "Scared?" he echoed, his tone laced with disbelief.  

"Scared out of your mind."  

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You're grasping at straws, [Y/n]. If I was scared, why would I go through with it? Why even play the game?"  

Her eyes flicked to the gun still in his hand, her voice steady as she replied, "Because you're desperate to prove you're not as weak as you know you are."  

Karma's smirk twitched, but his crimson eyes remained locked on hers, sharp and calculating. "And what makes you so sure?"  

"You couldn't even keep pulling the trigger." Her voice grew softer but no less firm, each word a pointed accusation. "You were shaking, Akabane. You couldn't bear the thought of something going wrong, even though you knew I'd be fine."  

His grip tightened on the gun and his jaw clenched ever so slightly. "You're reaching," he said, though his voice lacked assurance.  

"And you're lying to yourself," she shot back. "You were terrified for me. That's why you kept spinning the cylinder—why you stalled between every pull. You couldn't do it, Karma. Not because of the odds, not because of some game. But because, deep down, you were more scared for my safety than I was."  

Karma's mask cracked for just a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He quickly replaced it with a scoff, but the flicker of doubt was there.  

"You're wrong," he said, his voice quieter now, almost defensive.  

"No, I'm not. You couldn't kill me, Karma. No matter how much you claim you could, no matter how much you want me to believe you're capable of it—you can't. And you know why?"  

He stayed silent, his knuckles white around the gun's handle.  

"Because you're weak," she said, her words like a slap to the face. "You care too much, even if you hate admitting it. You were scared because you know you could never live with yourself if something happened to me. That's why you rigged the game. Not to prove a point, but because you needed to control every outcome. You couldn't risk losing me."  

The air between them was suffocating, the weight of her words pressing down on him. Karma's eyes flickered with something unreadable—an emotion he couldn't quite suppress.  

"Say what you want," she continued, her voice softer now, almost pitying. "But we both know the truth. You're not the monster you pretend to be. You're just a coward trying to convince himself he's invincible."  

For a long moment, he said nothing.

"And you want to know what?" [Y/n] pressed. Her voice dropped, soft but no less cutting. "You probably won't ever kill me. No matter how much you claim you could. Because you are weak, Karma."

His eyes snapped to hers. "Weak?" he echoed, his voice dripping with mockery. "That's rich coming from the girl who—"

"Who put her life in your hands?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "Yeah, I did. And you know what that means? It means I know you, Karma. I know you better than you want me to."

Her words hit like a hammer, his smirk finally cracking. He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn't give him the chance.

"You couldn't keep going," she said. "Not because of some grand plan or brilliant strategy, but because you were scared. Scared for me. Admit it."

Karma's silence stretched on. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, the mask of confidence slipping entirely. He glanced down at his trembling hand, the gun was still clutched between his fingers. He set it back on the counter with deliberate care.  

"You're not entirely wrong," he said quietly, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. His crimson eyes met hers, raw and unguarded. "I was scared. I am scared."  

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "But no," he said, his voice unsteady. "It wasn't that."  

"Then what?" she demanded, her frustration rising again. "What could possibly scare you? You've never cared about anyone or anything enough to—"