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“There you are, kindred.”
With a startle, your head whips around to the source of the voice. Your eyes trail upwards, taking in the tall, imposing figure of one particular demon lord. Raindrops slide off his red wagasa, keeping its inhabitant dry. You had no such luck; you did not account for any rolling clouds or gray skies today.
Actually, no, scratch that. You did not account for Vox to find you here of all places - this was supposed to be your hidden sanctuary within the woods. A small wood clearing you appropriated for yourself, away from prying eyes. A fortuitous discovery.
“M-my lord? How did you find me?” You stuttered through your words, followed by a small sneeze. You brushed the water-logged hair covering your eyes, trying your best to clear your vision. His usually amicable golden eyes were now hardened amber orbs, his disapproving stare rooting you in place.
Vox gestures to the trailing footprints behind him. “I went searching for you after hearing what happened from the other clan members.” He pauses, releasing a deep sigh before resuming. “Spare me your excuses. What. Were. You. Thinking?” Each of his enunciated words brought your arms closer to hugging yourself, your eyes pointedly drilling holes into the ground.
You shivered, the mounting pressure bearing down upon your feeble self. You were not used to being on the receiving end of…this. He did not need to be concerned for you, a fellow clan member with no notable status. Most of the time, you were but one of many leaves drifting amongst the clan. Unexceptional. Unnoticeable. Unremarkable.
So what set him off and why did he care so much?
“...be so reckless ...Hey, are you still with me?” The demon lord’s voice drew closer, snapping you out of your thoughts. The rhythmic lull of raindrops tapping against Vox’s wagasa became more audible with each passing second. The rain magically stopped pelting you. Black sandals enter your field of vision, followed by a slender finger to your chin, slowly lifting your eyes to meet him.
“Kindred, I expect to be answered when I-” The man sucks in a breath, the rest of his sentence trailed off upon taking in your appearance.
“My dear…were you…crying?”
"N-no." You sniffle.
Vox tsks, his free hand moving to thumb the fresh tear tracks. "Lying is unbecoming of you, my dear." The once cold amber eyes softened back to the warm golden glow, his timbre no longer demanding.
"What happened?"
"I..."
You hesitate to answer. Would he believe you? What difference will it make? A raging storm was warring within, your pessimistic thoughts swirling and churning. Before you realize it, another wave of tears erupt from your already puffy eyes.
Sensing your reluctance, Vox embraces you, drawing your head into his solid chest.
Ba-thump.
His steady heartbeat chases away any lingering doubts. You take in a shaky breath before responding.
“...The others were teasing me too much. Something in me broke and I found myself here.” You mumbled your story, conveniently omitting details. He does not need to know that the teasing was about your infatuation…with him. Face flushed in embarrassment, you bury your head further into his chest, hands grasping at his now wrinkled business suit.
“Is that so?” His deep voice rumbles in your ears.
“Yes, and I’m really sorry for wasting time and causing trouble for you and the clan, my lord - that was never my intention, it was just that-” He strokes your hair, your rambling brain short circuiting at his touch. “M-my lord?”
“Regardless, I am glad to have found you before the storm worsened.” You can hear his relief. Timidly peeking your head up, you see a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
“Come now, we can finish our conversation after a warm shower and a cup of tea in hand; how does that sound?” Vox leans down, his forehead tenderly against yours, his black hair streaked with red highlights shielding you from the outside world. From your blurry vision, you could make out flecks of pink intertwined with familiar yet entrancing aurelian. Heart thudding in overdrive, everything save for Vox’s calm baritone was ambient noise to you.
Never in your wildest dreams would you envision yourself standing in the rain, sharing space with the clan leader…like this. Or holding his undivided attention. At all.
“Kindred, do you remember what I asked of you earlier?” He muses, a teasing lilt to his question. “Or perhaps you worked yourself up a fever? Your forehead is quite warm.” He chuckles and leans back. Without further ado, you feel something heavy yet comforting drape over your soaked frame.
His trademark haori.
Tinged with a faint scent of sandalwood, you find your arms already clutching at it, bringing the oversized fabric closer to you. Only to then realize the implications.
“A-are you sure you want to dirty your haori as well, my lord? I’ve already made a mess on your suit…”
Another low murmur tickles your ears. “My dear, as the leader, the welfare of my clan and of every kindred is a part of my duties I commit to with pride. Therefore, the health of one of my clan members matters more than any article of clothing that I can wash or replace.” This time, Vox cups your chin upwards to emphasize his next point, his gaze unwavering.
“You, however, are not replaceable. The clan can only be strong if each individual member is strong and healthy.”
Your face ignites in embarrassment once more, but a genuine smile emerges at his proclamation. “T-thank you so much for caring about me, my lord…” You tentatively don his haori, steeling yourself for the journey back. As soon as he crooks his arm, your arm loops around it.
“Lead us home, my lord…”
“Of course, this way, kindred…”
His words met empty air.
The demon lord sighs, shaking his head, the memory fading away as quickly as it possessed him. His previous wagasa was now replaced with this black set, his clan insignia hand-painted in red. He went without his signature haori, opting to visit dressed in all black again. Black dress shirt, slacks, and leather dress shoes.
Petrichor permeated the familiar wood clearing, now populated with more trees than he remembered before. Sunshine pierces through the retreating clouds, illuminating the area with an ethereal glow. Closing his wagasa, he approaches the center of the clearing, stopping in front of a stone marker. The once legible engraving has eroded with time, now only a smooth stone to the touch.
Vox smiles and kneels in front of the stone, pressing a chaste kiss against the top while offering a bouquet of red spider lilies. His fingers automatically trace the spots where the letters used to be. A ritual he performs each time he has the opportunity to visit his former kindred. Aware of the symbolism behind red spider lilies in human customs, he knowingly chooses to offer them…hoping that they will meet again.
In another life.