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‘I don’t want to die.’
Sakuha feels that tug in the back of her head again.
That warm voice, dripping with honeyed-gold words and yet always seems to push Sakuha to her worst impulses. The demon she’s kept locked up inside, a prisoner- yet also passenger, observer to her life and magistrate of her actions.
There was a time, long ago, when Sakuha listened intently to the voice, her only friend and a watchful guardian.
But time had not proven an ally, and where there was once friend, there was now foe. Soured by over a decade of scorn from the other Sorcerers she’d known. Unnatural, they had called it. It was them who first called the voice a demon. And so she let them believe it had died.
Only one knew of its continued existence.
Atsukan was many things to Sakuha. A classmate, a friend, a trusted partner. Her closest companion, her only confidant. The only person who would never judge her for the demon in her head.
And she was in danger.
Well, to be frank, both of them were in danger, but Sakuha brushes that thought aside for now. Her first priority has to be Atsukan, on the other end of the river, engaged with two Cursed Spirits- the first looks like a massive shark with legs, only where its fins were, it has blades like scythes, and it swings its fin-arms like razors, slashing through branch and flower and leaf like butter. The second is more subdued in its appearance, but Sakuha knows better than to assume that made it less dangerous. If anything, it’s likely the more dangerous of the two. It resembles an eel, or maybe a cloud, and it has this nasty trick of being able to obscure itself, making it difficult to spot.
The eel should have been an easy foe for Atsukan, given her Cursed Technique, but not with a second foe barreling down on her, and certainly not while Sakuha herself is preoccupied with the dog like Cursed Spirit currently chasing her.
The whole mission had been like this from the get-go. It hadn’t even been one hour before they had gotten off the plane and into China that they were attacked in Hong Kong’s streets. Once that spirit had been subdued, another two hours passed before the second came. And now, after two days, they only seemed to be getting bolder.
She can’t wait any longer. If she continues to hesitate, Atsukan will die.
‘If you fight here, you’re going to get injured.’ The demon says. Sakuha ignores it.
Sakuha draws her blade out once more, a simple Jian that she used her technique to imbue with cursed energy, and stabs downward into the dog-spirit’s head, finally dispelling it- but not before the demon’s words come true, like clockwork prophecy, as the spirit sinks its teeth into Sakuha’s thigh.
Pain shoots through Sakuha, a white hot jolt nearly making her keel over, but she forces herself to power through it, forging the river as the wound in her thigh throbs and aches, rebelling against each and every heavy step through the coursing water. Though the river doesn’t rage or roil, that hardly matters when blood oozes from supernatural puncture marks on your leg.
The demon tsks. ‘This river could be contaminated. You could be infecting yourself.’
‘Shut up. Atsukan can heal me.’ Sakuha shoots back.
The demon says nothing, but she can feel its judgement as she pushes ahead further and further, her body fighting her each and every step.
Her vision begins to blur in the corner of her eyes, but Sakuha shrugs it off. Just a little further…
The shark-spirit raises one of its scythes, and Sakuha inhales. Only one shot.
She raises her arm back, Jian in hand. Atsukan spots her out of the corner of her eye, and her eyes go wide. She says something, but Sakuha doesn’t hear it, only the ringing of her ears, the blood rushing in her temple. She brings her arm down and lets loose her grip on the blade, sending it coursing through the air.
One shot.
Atsukan’s mouth goes wide.
A scream.
The blade finds its mark- piercing the Cursed Spirit in the forehead, and it stops in its tracks.
Atsukan doesn’t wait a second before taking action, preparing her own cursed technique- a field of mirror-like barriers suddenly surround them all on the field, and just as the eel-spirit makes its move, its own energy is reflected back at it, and the cloud dissipates.
For a moment, Sakuha lets out her breath, the battle won.
Then she falls forward, splashing into the river face first, and the world goes dark.
‘You damned fool.’
When Sakuha comes to, for a moment, she is uncertain where she is. There’s a warmth covering her lower back, but the air is damp and cool, and there is an ache in her thigh. A second passes before the events of the river come back to her, and she realizes that she is sitting against a tree, a blanket draped over her legs, and Atsukan looming over her, checking… something.
“Atsukan…” She mutters, her voice coming out scratchy.
“Sakuha.” Atsukan looks up, her face stone cold, but her eyes telling a different story. Confusion, hurt, and concern float in them, something few others than Sakuha herself could ever see. “Why did you do that?”
Sakuha shrugs, weakly. “You were in danger.” She doesn’t have the energy for anything more.
“Not that.” Atsukan shakes her head. “You got hurt. Recklessly.”
“You were in danger.” Sakuha repeats herself, unable to formulate or provide a more satisfactory reason.
Atsukan purses her lips, holding back a sigh, and Sakuha fights the urge to place her own against them.
‘Do it, coward.’ The demon goads her, unwilling to acknowledge the billion and one reasons that would obviously be a terrible idea. After all, what are the odds that Atsukan is a. A lesbian and b. Cares for Sakuha back?
Astukan pays the demon no mind (seeing as how she can’t hear it anyway) and sighs. “You need to stop acting so recklessly. I know you have your hero complex, but what if I didn’t know the Reverse Cursed Technique? Or what if I wasn’t there?”
“But you’re always going to be there.” Sakuha’s mouth acts without her permission.
Atsukan stares at her. “...What?”
Sakuha panics, trying to pivot. “When I’m acting reckless I mean!” Nailed it.
Atsukan frowns, her expression turning stern. “Then perhaps I need to put some distance between us, if that’s what it’s going to take to get you to act with a little more self-preservation.”
“Wait-” Sakuha blurts out, unable to stop herself right now. “This is- I mean, I’m not saying this right.”
Atsukan raises an eyebrow, clearly now more confused than anything else. She pulls her hand off of Sakuha’s leg and rests, puzzled. “Sakuha, what are you talking about?”
“The thing is, I…”
‘Kiss her, you idiot.’
This is it.
This is the moment where she throws it all away- her friendship, her trust, she’s about to lose it all.
She’s made it this far, ignoring the voice in her head.
So why is it getting so hard?
Why was it that this demon only seems to have her best interests in mind?
“Atsukan, please… Kiss me?”
The request comes out as a whisper, and Sakuha can feel herself blanching, unable to bring herself even to hope for the best outcome.
Astukan’s response is nearly instant, yet it feels as though it takes a million years to come. Her whole demeanor shifts, and her face tints with red in the cheeks ever so slightly. Her expression shifts rapidly, Sakuha unable to keep up with every emotion she reads.
And when she crosses the threshold, placing her own lips onto Sakuha’s, it feels as though she crosses ten thousand light-years to do it.
For a moment, the whole world, her wound, the tree supporting her weight, the cold damp of the forest floor below her fades away. There is only Atsukan, in her entirety. For a woman who so often runs so cold, all Sakuha can feel in this moment is her warmth, her care, her love. The white locks of her hair brushing up against Soha’s black. She places her hand on Sakuha’s shoulder deepening the kiss for a brief moment, as both their eyes flutter closed, and before the moment ends, for this single second, one finite point in space and time, Sakuha knows one thing.
She knows love.
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