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—— Before You Start Reading ——
This sequel continues straight from the main story "Over The Top"
Like last time, it offers both Chinese and English versions for all readers.
Chinese Mandarin 中文普通話國語 - 過情之纏
The "Over The Top" series is inspired by "The Untold Worlds 3 – Famous Detective Mokona," a cheeky tribute to Kurogane's prized erotica — "Miyuki-chan in Wonderland," the root of headcanon and the beating heart of the main story "Over The Top."
Much affection is held for the subtle erotic charm of "Miyuki-chan in Wonderland." This sequel also takes inspiration from "Miyuki-chan in Wonderland" — CLAMP truly are geniuses of manga creation!
Apologies in advance for any errors since English is not my first language.
If this lime gets a bit much, it would be entirely my responsibility. Please kindly do not bully innocent characters.
I neither own Tsubasa: RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE nor the goddess Tomoyo, but am merely a devotee of goddess Tomoyo, pouring my entire heart and soul into this fanfiction.
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Kurogane absolutely hated these empty, fancy formalities of political socialising. He endures every second of it.
Yet here he was — utterly trapped: brother-in-law to the Empress Amaterasu and official consort to Tomoyo-hime. He had no choice but to grin and bear the torture, even though he stuck out like a very sore thumb amongst all the delicate courtiers.
He had been to plenty of these events before — back when he was simply Tsukuyomi-hime's personal bodyguard — but at least then he could slip away for a breather when it all got too much.
Now? He was forced to sit perfectly still like a decorative statue.
Kurogane couldn't make sense of how Tomoyo, as the Tsukuyomi-hime of Nihon, could endure these year after year — all the endless pleasantries and hollow ceremonies.
Yet there she was — completely at ease, practically glowing with enjoyment?
Ever since they had tied the knot, whenever a formal occasion rolled around, Tomoyo always wore the gorgeous michiyuki overcoat Kurogane had specially chosen the tanmono fabric for. The elaborate attire made her look like a shooting star that had fallen to earth — dazzling and over-the-top radiant!
Kurogane felt a swell of pride every single time, satisfied with his Lady's taste in clothing — like a hidden declaration that she was his alone!
Yet as Tomoyo received the many courtiers' praise for her over-the-top breathtaking mien, and answered them with that perfectly dignified smile as though it belonged to everyone else entirely — Kurogane felt something bitter and sour twist inside him.
He hated sharing even a flicker of that smile — He wanted to scoop her up, hide her away, and keep every beam of her light all to himself!
For Tomoyo who always carried herself with over-the-top elegance, her dignified smile could conceal a surprisingly mischievous side. Still, Kurogane clung to his over-the-top dream — this Tsukuyomi-hime shone solely for him.
Pathetic! What a naive thought. After all, his Lady is the Tsukuyomi-hime of Nihon — destined to shine like the bright moon for the entire nation!
These political banquets had one more over-the-top annoyance — a strict no-getting-drunk rule. Breaking it would result in being sealed in a kekkai as punishment.
Kurogane was climbing the walls with boredom. The only way he stayed calm was by reminding himself that at the very least, they mixed only with their courtiers, rather than with foreign princes who hid behind fancy "diplomacy" talk while truly just coveting Tomoyo — He really ought to get a better grip on himself and learn to chill out a bit more.
Trouble is, every time he thought about those foreign princes practically coveting his miko-hime, Kurogane got dead jealous and twitchy — like a fidgeted brat squirming on pins and needles.
"Are you that desperate to get home to go over Wonderland?" Tomoyo murmured, shooting him a sideways glance that was half resigning, half teasing.
Kurogane opened his mouth — then spotted Amaterasu's over-the-top interested gossipy gaze swinging his way.
Accordingly, Kurogane knocked back a huge gulp of sake instead and leaned in close to Tomoyo's ear. "I'm far more desperate to get home and go over my okugata — not on paper."
"Danna-sama has had quite a bit to drink tonight,"
Kurogane was rewarded with a classic dignified smile from Tomoyo, though mischief danced in her eyes.
"I trust you'll be wanting an early night, won't you?"
—— Arguing with Tomoyo is like fighting a losing battle ——
Kurogane let out a low, inward huff, yet he refused to back down.
He growled under his breath as a promise hardened in his eyes,
"These lips may lose the battle of words, yet this tongue masters other ways of subduing."
The words were an unmistakable foreshadowing of a provocative game.
"Someone thinks highly of himself!" Tomoyo arched one perfect brow, stifling a giggle, yet giving her consort an anticipatory look that only Kurogane could read.
Kurogane let out a long, dramatic sigh. Wisely, he decided not to rise to the bait.
Instead, he simply reached for her dainty hand under the table and laced their fingers together — a silent, stubborn declaration that he could—and would—subdue the miko-hime.
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Even after the banquet finally ended, their fingers stayed tangled together, glued like they never wanted to part.
As they left the hall, they walked side by side — or rather, Kurogane tried to hurry in the most over-the-top desperate way, while Tomoyo deliberately slowed her steps to an over-the-top regal crawl.
She was doing it on purpose — Kurogane knew it too well.
But under the nose of Amaterasu, he was powerless. Kurogane could only suffer his over-the-top burning need while fighting every instinct to keep a straight face like a proper ninja.
At long last they turned into the corridor leading to their private quarters.
The instant they were out of sight, Kurogane scooped Tomoyo up, slung her over his right shoulder like the sweetest plunder, and stormed down the hallway as though he had thieved the moon itself.
"The servants may see…" Tomoyo protested, cheeks flaming.
"To hell with that," Kurogane tossed back nonchalantly with a smug grin. "They've known me long enough — this isn't their first rodeo."
Tomoyo buried her mortified face in the wide sleeve of her furisode.
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Back in their bedchamber, instead of setting Tomoyo gently on the beddings, Kurogane perched her upon the wooden cabinet as though placing the stolen moon upon his private altar.
"Was whispering dirty tricks in front of the royals supposed to be dignified? Tsukuyomi-hime should have at least sized up the situation, don't you think?" Kurogane took the initiative to speak, already starting to peel away the kimono of his miko-hime, layer by layer — agonizingly slowly — an anxious lust torment to him.
"It's not from this world," Tomoyo teased with chuckles, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
"None of the courtiers have the foggiest idea about Wonderland."
"But Amaterasu knows," Kurogane grumbled. "What if I couldn’t hold myself back around you?"
Tsukuyomi-hime had tantalized him in public, kindling his passions and casting him into a storm of desire.
"How so? Did it push you over the edge?" Tomoyo was rather amused, mischief dancing across her alluring face.
"Isn't a ninja supposed to be tough as old boots, manly enough to endure anything?" she pressed, her smile laced with deliberate playfulness.
"Not to mention, my danna-sama is the mightiest shinobi in all Nihon!" Yet beyond the playful mockery, Tomoyo did not neglect to flatter her consort. Her lips — shame the red rose — brushed Kurogane's, tender as water, while her fingers deftly undressed him.
"Does it still hurt?" she whispered, amethyst eyes swimming with tender worry, reflecting an endless stream of love.
"This new arm is miles better than the old model."
Kurogane knew all too well what his Lady was worried about — Tomoyo always asked, always cared.
"That puts my mind at ease, somewhat. Don't push yourself too hard," The miko-hime exhaled in relief. "My brave, gallant danna-sama."
She trailed kisses from his left ear down along his neck, continuing her path across his shoulder to trace the seam where metal met skin — every kiss jolted lightning crackling through his veins.
Kurogane was utterly enthralled by the electricity Tomoyo stirred in him, hands growing impatient as pent-up desire urged him on, hastening the stripping away of his miko's layers.
"Why won't you put me down?" Tomoyo asked with a playful pout — a rare, adorable indulgence.
"Because someone never grew properly," Kurogane replied, blunt as ever. "You said yourself this way you can look me in the eye."
The 37-centimetre height difference was indeed a daily hassle — but right now, Kurogane was far too busy wrestling with the final layer of her inner juban to care.
He stripped the final layer away at last in one swift, desperate tug.
The fabric slipped away like morning mist, offering the warm glowing jade beneath to no gaze but his.
But — Tomoyo straightened her arms and pushed him away.
Kurogane froze — Alarm bells screamed.
"Is that why danna-sama likes Miyuki-chan so much?" Tomoyo asked in a small, hurt voice, looking down at her lap. "Because danna-sama isn't satisfied with my figure?"
Kurogane hated himself for what he just said. His throat went dry.
The words had slipped out like spilt milk — impossible to gather again. He wished to swallow those foolish words back, but could only gulp instead.
At this point, he was unsure what to do, having the tiger by the tail.
"Not a bit of it!" Kurogane dropped to one knee, craning his neck to peer up at Tomoyo.
Her long raven strands had fallen forward like a curtain, hiding her whole face. All Kurogane could catch were fleeting, torturous glimpses of her half-shadowed curves — a vision that heightened his anxiety and felt more like a noose around his throbbing desire.
"My okugata's petite form perfectly fulfills my long-cherished dream of shouldering my own Tsukuyomi-hime home!" Kurogane blurted out awkwardly.
"Long-cherished?" Tomoyo lifted her head ever so slightly — Kurogane could sense her sight was looking straight back at him, but her ebony hair was too shielding for him to make sure of anything.
"Your teasing has always left me exasperated, but your mischievous smile grew ever more enchanting with every passing year." Kurogane slowly poured out his heart, embarrassment and sincerity both blending in his voice.
"But you were simply my Mistress. I was bound not to step out of line, nor commit any transgression. I wasn't able… I shouldn't have even let the thought cross my mind… Yet I did."
Kurogane fell silent, drifting off for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.
"What about the shachou?" Tomoyo asked suddenly.
"Huh?" Kurogane looked confused.
"Daidouji-shachou from Piffle World. Did you ever have cheeky thoughts about her?" Tomoyo kept pressing the point — Her stony face was unreadable, and her voice flattened toward the end.
Kurogane's heart nearly stopped on the spot. He dared not breathe.
The mightiest shinobi in all Nihon stopped dead, breaking out in a cold sweat.
He was a hardened ninja, usually able to adapt with ease, having fought countless battles and won every single one of them — including the battle in Celes Country.
However, the SIMPLE question from his Lady caught him completely off guard — Kurogane was utterly intimidated.
"Your okugata would like to know."
Tomoyo traced one slender finger along his jawline until it rested beneath his chin.
She remained completely unfazed — seated high upon the wooden cabinet, Tomoyo gazed down at her kneeling consort, like a goddess toying with her favourite mortal plaything.
"I dun……I dunno……" Kurogane mumbled, the words slipping out in a jumble.
"What was that?"
Her fingertip lingered under his chin, forcing the ninja to tilt up his burning face.
"Your Mistress wishes to know. Well, You-ou… what do you think?"
Tsukuyomi-hime carried on with calm ease, her expression as smooth as ever.
Yet her amethyst eyes told another story — The mischievous pupils were practically sparkling with over-the-top amusement as she drank in the sight of the strongest ninja in Nihon, nearly worn down and close to breaking.
The miko-hime looked far too over-the-top proud of herself — clearly revelling in every second of torment she was inflicting on her poor consort.
Tomoyo was daring Kurogane to answer.
"S-Sovereign is noble and pure — Any improper thought would be blasphemy against Tsukuyomi-HIME-SAMA!" Kurogane stammered, jaw slackening.
He spoke the words, but they came out so pathetically weak they might as well have been a confession.
Right then, Kurogane would have gladly taken a hundred kekkai punishments if it meant he could escape this torture.
"What about the princess in the Birdcage Kingdom?" Tomoyo kept pressing the subject.
Her amethyst gaze seemed to cut straight through him — as if she could sift through every thought Kurogane tried to hide, rearranging them, categorising them, leaving her shinobi with nowhere to conceal himself, nowhere to escape.
"She already has her own royal knight!"
Kurogane was almost at his limit.
"Every single time I met another soul of yours…" He swallowed the ache rising in his chest, the corner of his mouth twisting into a faint, bitter smile, "…my irrepressible over-the-top yearning for you… tell me, did my okugata miss me too?"
Tomoyo's finger slipped from his chin.
"Hasn't onee-sama told you already?"
In the next heartbeat, her amethyst eyes flooded with a longing, and she flung herself around his neck, bowing her head to his.
"I missed you beyond all measure."
Warm drops soaked into his core — tears filled with a yearning that spanned worlds and time itself, deeply moving.
"You came back alive," Tomoyo whispered, voice heartrending. "That's all I ever prayed for, Kurogane."
Kurogane stroked the midnight hair of his Lady with reverent gentleness.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Fingertips threaded slowly through raven strands, trailing down the delicate curve of her spine in a touch so sensual it felt like devotion — lower still.
"Sorry for keeping my Mistress waiting so long."
His palm settled at the dip of her slender waist — possessive, grounding.
"And no more getting that drunk ever again, got it?"
At last, his hand slid upward to rest upon her gentle soft swell.
—— Perhaps tonight, no banishment to sleep alone in a kekkai?
"Nnnh…" Tomoyo replied with a delicate murmur, trembling between the beautiful mixture of tears and thick curtains of desire.
Her eyes fluttered shut, enraptured in an intoxicating illusion of over-the-top bliss.
Kurogane finally rose to his feet.
He swooped down and seized her mouth in a kiss so deep, so urgent. It tasted of relief, of yearning, of every night he had feared he would never see his Mistress again. Every last shred of Tsukuyomi-hime's perfect composure was subdued in whispers when he tasted her.
Kurogane dragged the petite frame of his miko-hime flush against his broad chest, one arm locked around her waist. With his fingers plunging into rivers of silken raven tresses and his palms roaming every inch of creamy surface, he was memorising his okugata all over again.
Tomoyo melted into the loving caresses of her consort, an irresistible desire ignited quietly within her.
Returning his passion measure for breathless measure, Tomoyo kissed him back with matching ardour — no longer the dignified Tsukuyomi-hime, but the wife who belonged to her consort alone, long yearning for her rightful place beneath him.
Ebony tresses spilled across his chest; her delicate hands busied themselves — one entangling desperately in his dark locks, while the other held her consort close as if he might vanish.
Soft, helpless moans spilled between her lips amidst the kiss.
Tsukuyomi-hime and her ninja remained utterly entangled, drowning in tender, over-the-top intimacy; the mightiest shinobi in all Nihon served his Mistress comprehensively, spoiling her, worshipping her with over-the-top devotion, loving her in the most lavish fashion imaginable.
When they finally broke apart for air, Tomoyo nuzzled against Kurogane with a shy smile, tilting her head slightly as she gazed up at her consort.
Kurogane pulled back just enough to meet his Lady's smouldering eyes before leaning in toward her ear.
"Oi, Tomoyo," he muttered with a wry grimace, "no more interrogations like that in future, yeah?"
Tsukuyomi-hime tightened her arms around his neck.
Her amethyst pupils glittered with mischief, clearly pleased with herself — the corners of her lips lifted into a teasing smile as she cocked her head and looked squarely at Kurogane.
"Tsukuyomi-hime is the Mistress You-ou serves for life," she sang sweetly.
"Keeping little secrets from the Mistress — that won't do. Next time, You-ou shall give an account of his adventure at the female onsen."
She then gave Kurogane a playful peck on his right cheek.
"Ma~a! And nearly forgetting the Kiishimu of Koryo Country!"
She whispered a soft, teasing protest into his ear,
"How could these GLORIOUS FEATS of You-ou be kept secret? It's quite hard for HIME-SAMA to grant such a wish!"
"Manipulative little miko," Kurogane sighed, a low rumble in his throat — though there was no real bite to it.
"Well then…"
He pressed home — and his Lady, who had been waiting so long, welcomed him without a heartbeat of hesitation, perfectly and utterly attuned to her consort.
"Don't blame me for subduing that clever tongue before you can manipulate me any further."
What followed was an over-the-top ferocious tsunami of passion — wave after wave crashing against the shell.
Rising and falling with the over-the-top swift rhythm, every over-the-top ardent surge subdued all power of speech — transmuting it into the sweetest, most delicate rhyme drifting through the silent night.
Half-formed murmurs trembled between rose-red lips — drowning deeper and deeper in over-the-top wild abandon, nearly perishing in the shuddering breaths that led to speechlessness.
Bodies fevered, entangled together — an over-the-top fiery enchantment seeped into every dazed sense.
The unstoppable, over-the-top profound union grew fiercer, wilder, blazing like wildfire.
The over-the-top desperate desire gathered, swelled, spread, tightly entangling the over-the-top loving responses, resonating in perfect, frenzied harmony.
In one blinding instant, scalding heat burst from the deepest core — an molten rapture erupted like lava flow, shocking with over-the-top overwhelming ecstasy, like spring thunder through souls, igniting auroras and exploding a soaring crescendo that lingered in the air long after the last note faded.
Heart pressed against heart, entangled in one time-frozen embrace.
The aftershocks — indescribable waves of over-the-top bliss — like eternally gorgeous lingering dreams, entangled together.
In that moment, time itself seemed to freeze; the entire world vanished.
Nothing remained — only these two over-the-top enamoured souls, perfectly entangled in the over-the-top intimate night that belonged only to them.
––– The End –––
