Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When he awoke from his slumber, eyes focusing on the bright light in the sky, feeling the warmth upon his cheeks for the first time, he was in a daze. He padded forward, legs creaky from disuse. Had they ever really been used? He’d never left that room. 

The floor below him seemed dangerous, tall foliage hiding who knew what under his feet. His skin was still pristine, pale enough to reflect the sunlight brightly back into his eyes. He worried about damage, having no idea if he could repair his body, not knowing how he worked . It was an instinctive fear no living creature could live without and, unfortunately, he was alive. 

The shoreline was blinding but beautiful, his eyes slowly adjusting after being locked away in the dark for so long, and the sand felt safer for the moment. It was a disorienting feeling to be conscious. He wasn’t sure he enjoyed it. 

He wandered a while, there were very few people around and none seemed to pay him much mind despite his out of date fashion and bare feet. He couldn’t bear to imagine how much time had passed since he’d last seen her .

Humans were largely unhelpful, he learned. He could read the tense air looming around embedded in the tightly pressed lips and the hunched shoulders of the civilians he passed. 

He nearly startled into someone when he got distracted by the smell of a stall selling some sort of food he couldn’t name. Really, he could hardly name any foods, just had hazy memories of the woman who created him and what she ate while sitting at his bedside from time to time. 

“My apologies!” He heard and looking up he recognized the purple of the shogunate uniform, only changed in fit and make, the color recognizable at any glance. He’d only snuck a peek a time or two through the chamber he was held in to see them but they were hard to miss. He looks kind, was the first thing he noticed. 

He waited a beat, not knowing what to do about the expectant look thrown his way.

“Are you all right?” He was asked. And really, he couldn’t say whether he was or wasn’t. He simply stared back at him without so much as blinking. 

A hesitant hand reached for him, gripping his arm through the thin fabric that still draped over his body. It was what he was put to rest in, well worn, soft, and of high quality. He could tell the man felt as much from the texture of the thread despite its simple slate grey appearance without any trace of ornate design. He thankfully didn’t mention it. 

“Are you lost?” The soldier furrowed his eyebrows and bent down into his space, concern awash his face. 

Ah, he really was just kind then. 

“I’m not lost. I just have nowhere in particular I’m going.” 

This seemed to confuse him but he didn’t pry on particulars, simply glancing down at his legs and bare toes, “Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?” 

He was led towards a looming structure, a menacing dusty orange glow emanating from its insides. There were loud clanking sounds resonating through the surrounding area, he was unsurprised to see no wildlife around, only dozens of uniform footprints that created well worn paths all around the building. 

His arm was being tugged gently, although it made the socket of his shoulder sore with all the rubbing it was unused to. He seemed to be picking their path carefully, avoiding anything that might cause his uncalloused skin harm and for that he was grateful. 

When they arrived at the back of the building, going through a nondescript door, his companion seemed to become flightier, quicker on his feet with his eyes darting to and fro down the empty halls they were trespassing through. 

They finally made it to a barren room, separated by nothing but an opaque screen door. Four mats were laid out in a straight line, and a worn shelf sat in the corner storing other supplies and clothes. 

He was ushered to the back wall, encouraged to keep quiet while the man walked toward the items, picking out a fresh pair of slip-on shoes he could only assume were only meant for indoors due to how thin and lightweight they looked. 

“I can’t hide you in here for long, you're lucky I got left behind by the others today so the room will be empty tonight. Very fortunate, don’t you think?”

He leaned back against the wall as the man shot him a nice smile. 

“It seems so,” He replied.

“Here let me help you.” He slid down, sitting tucked into the corner, watching as the other acquired a cloth and a basin of water from somewhere. He knelt before him, seemingly hesitating before reaching for his ankle and dragging it upwards. 

The cloth was cool, and his feet were caked in a layer of dust and grit. It wiped away relatively easily dripping browns and greys back into the bowl. There were a few cuts but nothing too serious, just thin red lines accompanied by a slight sting. 

His technique was quick and efficient, cradling him and cleaning him as if he were incapable himself, and when the dirt was off he trailed ever higher, first to his shins, largely untouched by the outside world he’d just come to know, with his kimono draping down past them, and then to his knees.  

The hand was calloused and nicely warm as it lingered on his skin. He paid it no mind. 

As the muffled clanks of the facility buzzed in his ears he began to relax and allow his shoulders to droop. 

He pondered whether the man could possibly wrap his entire hands around his legs idly as he watched him work, only just noticing his larger stature previously hidden behind a slouch and friendly demeanor. 

He was completely clean before long, a few more strokes for good measure before the wet cloth finally withdrew. 

He was pat dry and handled once more to delicately slip the shoes onto each foot. They were far too big but better than nothing, and they certainly felt at least a little nice against his battered toes. All in all, not a fruitless journey if he actually got something out of it. 

“I’m sure you can sleep anywhere, I’ll go grab you something to eat. Wait here.”

He was left sitting by himself in silence for a while, focusing again when he heard footsteps beyond the screen, two shadows cast upon it. 

“Katsuragi-san, you’re done with your errands? Are you turning in this early when the sun has hardly even set?” The voice was surly and deep, perfectly tied to the looming figure it belonged to. Irritation painted the words, and his companion’s voice rang aloud, nervously replying. 

“No, Inspector.”

“Okay, good. After you’re done with your little break, join me up front.” 

“Yes, sir.” He bowed politely before cracking the screen door open quickly once the inspector began retreating and shutting it behind his back. Katsuragi visibly breathed out a sigh of relief upon seeing he was in the same exact spot as he had been before. 

“Eat up. I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

When left to his own devices he sat up and tested out his new shoes. They weren’t easy to move in, falling off easily and nearly tripping him several times. Then he stared down at the plate that was set beside him. Rice with some protein he couldn’t name beside it, cooked to an unrecognizable state even if he had known what it was, alongside cut up slices of melon. 

It was wholly unremarkable but he got it all down anyway. 

He curled up then, watching as the sun began to set in the sky through the blades of the window shade. 

He didn’t open his eyes again until the door slid open. He didn’t move to make himself known, just stayed quietly wrapped around himself facing a wall. He’d picked the mat furthest from the door. 

Katsuragi’s steps were light, presumably trying not to wake him. He heard stable breaths and shuffling, the uniform armor hitting the ground near impossible to keep quiet. He remained still but felt as though Katsuragi’s gaze burned through the back of his head, looking for any sign he’d woken. He squeezed his eyes back shut with no intention to open them again for the rest of the night. 

Katsuragi was quick to change into sleepwear, seemingly unphased and unembarrassed even though there was another person in the room. Given the small lodgings and the amount of mats he figured that was commonplace for a soldier like Katsuragi. 

He began to lie down on the mat beside him which was odd given there were others further away and he could leave more space between them both, but he felt nothing more than a mild annoyance. 

After all, it would be difficult to lay there all night pretending to sleep and an even harder facade to keep up with him so close. 

After a while he almost could swear he felt the brush of warm breaths against the helix of his ear. He imagined Katsuragi moving closer, face nearly buried in his long hair, but quickly brushed that away as absurdist. 

The sound of shuffling again made him pause his practiced breaths only for a moment before returning. So, Katsuragi was still awake. 

He seemed to be listening. 

After a while, what felt like hours to someone who’d yet to truly experience time, but was probably only minutes, Katsuragi seemed satisfied. 

He laid back down only for his breaths to quicken, in and out, in and out at a steady pace. Maybe he was upset. 

He stayed as still as possible, not wanting to disturb him.

Before long he began to hear movement, it was faint but repetitive almost as if Katsuragi’s sleep shirt was rubbing against itself. 

There was a large more exasperated sigh that filled the room before Katsuragi abruptly sat up. Standing and then pacing around the room, he seemed stressed. After a few minutes, he came back to the mat, softly sitting back down. 

It was then he began to invade his space. It made him immediately nervous but with no heart to quicken, his breaths remained steady all the same. 

He felt the shoes he’d laid down in, get tugged upon, coming off with the same ease as earlier. He felt cold without them but didn’t dare show it. 

As he had done before, he began to feel his legs, more tenderly and featherlight and without the barrier of a cloth but he was sure the fingers were there upon his skin, tracing up, up, up, his ankle then calf. 

Being on his side meant the tie around his waist was accessible to those hands which bravely lifted up and tugged. At first it did nothing but feel more loose, but with some adjusting it came open in the front revealing the undergarments he was dressed in. He had his arms curled up towards his face, leaving his lower half completely exposed for Katsuragi’s exploration. 

He wasn’t sure what to do, finding the idea of stopping him possibly dangerous, or in the least uncomfortable. And if he was wrong about being in any kind of danger, he’d be overreacting and wrongly accusing him of, well, whatever it was he was doing. This man had shown him kindness, had brought him into his lodgings to rest with a roof over his head, without worry. 

He slid back and forth, creating patterns of his skin, so gentle still. It felt something like being cherished. He’d never known that feeling as long as he’d lived. They snuck between his legs, wedging in the warmth of his thighs pressed together with the weight of gravity. And they inched up, up, up.

He’d never thought much of his own body’s sensitivities. He’d been made to not break easily. He was supposed to hold something precious. Ultimately, he was still too weak in the end to do so but he’d never truly felt weak until right then, when tingling shot up his frame with the touches. The feeling was foreign and sunk low in his gut and he wasn’t quite sure what it was but it made him anxious that a stranger knew how to control his body better than he did himself. 

With some gentle nudging, he reached under his shorts, they rode up high upon his thighs, just at the juncture of his legs and the rest of his body. He felt him pull away before coming back to find his hip, petting him softly. 

“Oh…” Resounded through the room, probably louder than the man intended. It was still quiet enough he hardly seemed concerned but he did stop his touching just a moment after, anxiously lingering right where he was. 

How badly he wanted to open his eyes, just to see how Katsuragi may be looking down upon him in the moonlight. 

“You are so, so beautiful.” It was hush, said purely for Katsuragi’s benefit and not his own. Words he was never meant to hear but made the sickness pool deep in his stomach again. Was he beautiful? He knew he was created to be, but it rang differently when said in this situation where he knew it was truly about him and no one else. 

“Please, please.” He chanted, bravely leaning down towards his legs, grabbing instead at his shorts and tugging them to the side. Trying to see… trying to see something. 

It was a shock when he slipped his hand right between the fabric and his body, running himself through the folds nestled right at his center. Katsuragi with one hand free, began to make the noise again, and he was now feeling the nudging back and forth hitting his knees, right where Katsuragi was sitting. He was touching himself, the same way he was touching him. 

He felt his chest warm with the realization, the same heat pooling in his face and his breaths ticked up just in time with Katsuragi’s own. 

He couldn’t reach where he wanted comfortably, not while his legs were still flush with each other and he was still technically dressed. He figured Katsuragi felt it too risky to try and move him fully from his position, but he did try to nudge him just a bit so his legs drifted just the furthest bit apart. 

With the newly acquired room he wasted no time, going further back brushing something that nearly made him jolt with how sensitive it was. He was thankful he didn’t linger there. 

He was tight where Katsuragi was trying to wriggle his way into making it even more difficult. He had never experienced anything like this before but the man seemed persistent, as though he knew what he was doing. 

“You’re not wet enough.” He laughed under his breath. 

With Katsuragi gone from his body once again, the sounds of suckling hit his ears. As well as the rhythmic brushing against his legs stopped. 

“I’m gonna use myself, it's okay, you little thing, it’s not your fault.”

When it returned the hand was hot and far more wet. Slick with saliva, he was sure of, and also something else. It began to rub at him in earnest this time. And Katsuragi started to make little whines he was sure he’d remember the sounds of for the rest of his life. He’d never heard anything else like it. 

As he prodded at his hole, his thumb reached upward and like sparks it began to set his body aflame with that same little nubbed spot. He felt his body clench, tensing then ebbing and flowing away while he caught his breath before winding all the way up again. It was unlike anything he’d ever been privileged enough to feel, only knowing sadness and loneliness and rejection, this was simply something else entirely.

While Katsuragi’s spit helped ease things along some initially, it definitely was no longer needed, as he trembled and felt it gush and throb. He was able to get in with some difficulty then and it felt so strange to have something writhing inside his body, to clench down upon. This foreign thing that stretched and pulled and played with him. He liked it so much. 

A second finger joined soon enough and he felt Katsuragi lean down and begin to rest his lips upon his thighs. Over and over as he sighed and moaned into his skin. 

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I don’t know what I’m doing. You just— you made me lose control.” He mumbled in a daze. 

“Let me fuck you, please let me fuck you.” He whispered, and a second finger found its way in with ease. 

He didn’t know what it meant. 

“Mmph—!”

And everything stopped. 

He hadn’t realized until he’d done it, unwittingly releasing a sound from deep in his throat, before cutting it off abruptly. He just couldn’t hold it in any longer 

He didn’t want to deal with the expectation of talking, so he decided to play it off, shuffling himself as though in a deep sleep and repositioning onto his back. 

Katsuragi seemed so scared for a long time. Eventually letting out an almost giddy sound once he realized he didn’t wake up, didn’t so much as flutter his lashes. 

He gripped and tugged at his shorts then, emboldened and impatient. Katsuragi’s own were down around his thighs exposing himself to the air with a musky scent and he could feel his clammy skin against his own. 

With the fabric sliding down and exposing more of him, Katsuragi returned to kiss up his body, only this time the air was so cold against the wet between his legs and Katsuragi’s breath just felt so much hotter.

The shorts were stuck at his knees when he paused and then he felt the first lick against the soft plushy fat of his inner thigh. It was so close. Just so close. 

He whined again, he couldn’t help it. And rather than pausing, Katsuragi seemed encouraged, stepping away to fling the shorts off his ankles, carefully picking up each of his thin legs then spreading them wide. It was so startling to be so exposed this way. 

“I’m gonna fuck you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t help myself.” He sounded ragged, like a man possessed. 

His mouth was back only this time able to do so much more. He held him open in an embarrassing stretch, and then without preamble licked all the way up the area. 

He gasped aloud. 

Katsuragi began to palm himself again, shoving his other hand back inside him only this time licking and sucking on whatever it was that took his breath away. 

It was sudden, like a fraying rope on it’s last thread finally snapping under a weight far too heavy, and falling limp to the floor. He felt himself twitch and flood. And he heard Katsuragi cry out too, just as he did. He was thankful he got drowned out by it. 

Katsuragi was panting heavily, feeling the remaining waves of his twitching around his fingers. He rested his head against his hip. 

It wasn’t long before he came back to himself shaking his head vigorously, “No, no, no, no.” 

He frantically shoved closer, putting their hips flush. 

“I’m just gonna put it in anyway, I can’t— I can’t.” 

Whatever it was was floppy. And wet. Really wet. Already cooling off with the night air. 

He seemed to struggle, pressing it in frantically but it was stuck tucked just inside the entrance, unable to go deeper even with his pushing and prodding. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Hurts—”

He finally collapsed onto his body and he was heavy. He was still of sound mind enough to know not to crush him, because surely that would wake him. But he nuzzled his face to the fat of his chest tucked beneath his nice clothes still, and breathed. 

It took Katsuragi a long time to give up, but when he did he took extra measure to finger whatever was still pooling in and around his hole back inside as far as it could go. He then scooped something up from his person and shoved that in too. It was almost cold. 

He hoped it didn’t leak too badly all over his clothes throughout the night. He had nowhere to wash. All he could do was try to keep it inside. 

He slid his shorts up softly, and haphazardly re-tied his kimono. Probably thinking it would be something akin to how he normally found himself when he woke up. But he wasn’t sure what it felt like to wake up more than the once. 

Before Katsuragi got up, he kissed each of his knee caps once more, then his ankles. They were quick little things, pecking one, two, three, four. 

He heard the twinkling of poured water for the second time, into a basin and listened as Katsuragi presumably wiped himself down the same way he had his feet. 

And then he came back over, repeating the events of earlier that day, only this time going even higher, touching all that he’d been the first to touch. Wiping his legs, then thighs, even reaching up to palm his backside some, but keeping his hole untouched and unclean with all he put inside of him. Whatever it was, it was special. 

When he was done, he left the room to dump the water, staying just at the doorway for a minute for some unknown reason, before stepping away. 

He immediately gasped and sat up, pressing down on his aching joints, laying still for hours when his body was going through, whatever it was going through had been unexpectedly painful.

He immediately pressed his hand down his shorts looking at the damage done. He was puffier than he’d ever seen himself, swollen red. And the stickiness was white in color. He lifted it up to look at it in the dim moonlight as it stretched between his fingers like a mucus. 

He knew he didn’t have much time, grabbing whatever was the closest to dripping out, swiping it all up and dragging it across his tongue. It was bitter and there was more of it than he would’ve liked, but it was the best he could do. He swallowed quickly, wanting the taste gone from his mouth but it was invasive, staying a long while with nothing to mask it or wash it down.

With little else to be done he laid back, feeling the uncomfortable pooling catch on his shorts and soak them. He went back on his side just as he’d been before and squeezed his legs together hoping it would help.

Katsuragi came back in eventually and he was more than prepared with his eyes closed and his breathing shallow by the time he heard the footsteps. Katsuragi kneeled beside the mat and picked up a strand of his long hair, playing with it before turning his attention to pet at the side of his face, along his eyebrows and eyelashes, down to his chin, and then his face leaned close once more to press his mouth to the corner of his lips. 

Then Katsuragi went to sleep. 

And he stayed up staring at the too big-slippers that had been forgotten, never put back on his feet. They were sitting perfectly lined up with their toes against the wall, obviously taken off of him in the night and placed there intentionally. 

They were perfect. 

They snuck out in the early morning, he tried not to make it too obvious that he felt disgusting, and thankfully his kimono covered almost all of him. The sky was a pale blue with a chilly fog hanging over everything around them. He looked up and shivered. 

“How about you stay nearby for a bit? You said you had nowhere you were going.”

To go.

“Look, I’ll set you up somewhere, don't worry about that. I just want to make sure you’ll be safe.” There was that look again, so shy. It was so unexpected after the night before.

“Okay.” He said airily, a small smile gracing his lips for the first time.

Chapter Text

Katsuragi stopped by the inn as frequently as he was able, bringing hot meals and other small gifts. He’d always peek beneath his lashes shyly and tell him how he’d found items that he thought suited him well. He was given hairpins, new clothes and shoes, necklaces and bracelets, all overly expensive on a soldier’s salary. He was not sure how he managed to pay for his room in the number of weeks it’d been since they met on top of it all, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

Katsuragi was very busy, he learned. The man spent the majority of his time in the village nearby, where the stalls and shops were, running errands for someone he called Nagamasa. Katsuragi was nervous whenever he was mentioned, hands flipping in front of his person absently, like he didn’t even realize how obvious he was with it. 

At night, he had a special assignment. Something he and his travel party had been working on for months in the forgery nearby. The coal-fires from the building blackened the sky with their fumes, always noticeable whenever there were people using the facility inside. The loud clanging he heard that day was someone moulding a deadly weapon, right beside where he laid. 

The inn was far enough away that the sounds could only just barely reach. He was highly curious about what they were making but Katsuragi had never mentioned specifics.

The meals were nice, all sitting in his stomach quite well. He felt good, well fed and rested. But he was bored and aside from a bit of stretching, he had nothing to do inside the room by himself. 

He often soaked in an adjoining bath, technically to be used by all the temporary residents in the inn but he’d come out very late, after meditation during the evening to be able to find himself with near complete privacy.

There were sheer shields that divided the area and homemade soaps given to everyone who used the baths that the innkeeper's wife liked to make in her free time, but Katsuragi had gifted him cleansing sets with a sweet nectar scent and urged him to use it if he so wished. It wasn’t exactly his taste but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, gratefully accepting it like he did with all the others. He was still unsure of Katsuragi’s intentions but he was also aware that whenever he leaned close or ran his fingers through his hair around him, he swore he could hear his heart rate speed up and he’d begin to stutter over his words. 

Katsuragi was very respectful in the daytime. He didn’t quite understand, almost was at the point he felt he’d imagined what happened to him in that dark room, but sometimes he’d pull his expensive kimono out from where it was folded beside all of his other newly acquired things, and see the remnants of stains he’d yet to wash away. 

That and his newly discovered understanding of his own body, which he would not have if not for that night. 

He’d basked in ignorance for a long while. Sometimes his heart would pound as he lay by himself, in the locked room completely alone. But he never felt alone, imagining he could still hear the soft pants against his ear.

He’d learned to sleep, even if it was unnecessary. And dream . 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night, slick and panting into his floor longing for Katsuragi to come and touch him again. 

It didn’t occur to him until he was bathing one night that what Katsuragi did to himself that night, he could probably do. At least, it was obvious Katsuragi had been pawing at his own body too, as he’d plunged his fingers inside him, doted on him, so why couldn’t he do that?

It became common then, with the fragrance of the nice soaps and oils Katsuragi gifted to him overwhelming his nose and the hot baths flushing his chest red, for him to begin touching. He was embarrassed at first and deathly worried someone would come in and see him. He kept silent through most of it, never knowing who could be around, but it was good . Trailing his fingers up and down his thighs or stomach for a while before finally working toward his core. 

The build up was always small, and the release like a cresting wave at low tide. A comfort certainly, but nothing like what he’d experienced before. He always worked to be done before the water went cold, which still didn’t take too long when it was past nightfall, even during the summer.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but when he would return to his room, all he could long for was the pressure he last remembered, when Katsuragi touched him, planted a kiss firmly onto his face and lips. 

He woke up early in the morning. Sleep was so unlike what he assumed it to be. It was a rest for others but his dreams were so vivid they disoriented him greatly. He would look down at hands not his own, at hair lighter and more warm toned than his. He would see tea cups, blooming pink blossoms, and a figure he couldn’t make out practicing with a blade outside the window. Her movements were elegant and smooth, a beautiful deadly force. 

Sometimes, he’d been able to wake up as this woman, be pampered in his dream as though he were royalty. A routine that was always the start of her day. Attendants put up his hair and brushed pigments along his lips and cheeks and eyes. He played close attention to their movements and without seeing the final result, could only assume she was absolutely beautiful if he could make himself look this way, just by practicing the styles based upon the various directions of tugging he’d felt through his scalp and the chatting he’d overheard about the attendant's technique. 

He found himself doing this on days he knew Katsuragi would not be coming, waiting until he perfected it to show him. 

The hairs that once framed his cheekbones now lay closer to chin-length, and the rest of his dark hair was well past his bust. It was difficult to achieve, when he did not have a mirror to see with, only stepping outside and looking at his reflection in a small pond he’d discovered while walking about the inn.

When it was all up and pinned, it looked so elegant like he was a dancer or some other creature of beauty, meant to be looked at. He wanted to be looked at. 

He had it all planned one day. 

Katsuragi said he had more time to spend with him, as some of his usual duties had been taken over in secret by dear friends. He said he had an idea for them, talked of how lovely it would be, how desperately he wanted to show him the decorated village. 

He dressed in one of his gifts, a red accented floral yukata . He’d become used to wearing women’s styling as it was what he was given. He used an ornate comb to part sections of his hair and twisted and pulled and pinned until he was satisfied with it. He placed some oils upon his lips to make them glossy and put on new geta. 

Katsuragi seemed shocked when he opened the door, taken by surprise at his appearance. It seemed it dawned on him, then again, just how special he was. He was so sure he was special, as Katsuragi was the one to show him that.

That woman was wrong. She was so wrong about him. 

“You look beautiful. Just like a blooming Liyuean glazelily.” He was told, though didn’t know what a glazelily looked like. 

His hand was taken, and it felt so reminiscent of the first time, as he was held and led down paths following the stranger he’d now come to know. The sun was beginning to set, which he knew was usually when all of Katsuragi’s other work was done for the day and Nagamasa demanded his time in the smithing facility, but today Nagamasa is feeling ill , he said, and only needing to do half as much and leaving the rest to the others, Katsuragi was able to figure it all out. 

There were more people out than usual today, and many bright lanterns decorating the usual stalls. He’d never seen anything like it. He was quite used to empty space. 

He looked over to Katsuragi with a smile on his face, to excitedly ask what this was all for, when he noticed Katsuragi was already staring back at him. It felt good. He knew why. 

He grabbed Katsuragi’s hand again, feeling the calloused fingers he was intimately familiar with, and he brought it to his waist for him to hold. Katsuragi grabbed him, hands clenching at the fabric before quickly pulling away again, looking around in concern to see if anyone was watching them, a flush upon his face.

He frowned at that, feeling as though he’d done something wrong.

Katsuragi kept some distance between them afterwards, pointing out things to see rather than leading him there himself. He bought them masks shaped like foxes, painted white and red, some sweet foods he’d never tried, and something called a sparkler, that erupted into little jumping lights when it was lit. He was amazed by it all. 

They drew fortunes and went to put up drawings for the hopes that they had for their futures. As he stared down at the blank placard, he felt a whole lot of uncertainty, all he knew was he could cling to Katsuragi for the time and that’s what he would do. He drew them together, as they were now, and wished that he had the power to immortalize the moment forever. 

He felt happy, if this was what happiness was. 

As they was walked back to his room at the inn, they stopped by the small pond he liked to visit on his own very frequently, and he was excited to show Katsuragi. Two large koi fish circled each other, glimmering in the moonlight, scales shining as if they were magic. To him, it was a view of love. 

He grabbed his hand again, the previous time be damned and he brought him inside his room. Katsuragi had been in it before to share meals and to chat politely sometimes, but never for long. He was not in the mood to eat or talk that night. 

He leaned forward into his space once they were seated like usual, across from each other with his legs curled under him daintily, and though Katsuragi’s attention seemed so focused on him, he acted unexpectedly shocked when he began to crawl his way forward, placing his hands on his shoulders and leaning in close enough to his face for it to be obvious he was asking for another kiss. 

“I—“ Katsuragi started. His hands found their way to his dress again, he could feel him shaking through the fabric. 

His eyes flicked back and forth between Katsuragi’s darker ones, breathing deeply before pouting when he did not take the opportunity to bridge the gap and meet him halfway. 

Instead he turned his face to the side and shut his eyes. Leaning backwards and away but inadvertently exposing the column of his neck. 

So he did the logical thing, and leaned down to press along his skin, first nestled just beneath Katsuragi’s jaw, then lower, again and again, as he made his way to his shoulder, where he began to slip his hand beneath the cloth, loosening it to expose his chest. He was so still as though he were holding his breath. 

“Wait, wait! Please stop,” Katsuragi yelped out suddenly. 

“What?” He pulled back, and asked in breathless confusion. Why was he acting this way? What did he do wrong?

“I—, you’re so beautiful,” he got out, “I really like you. I do.” 

He drew back at the tone, resigned and disappointed. He knew he was about to be told he was unwanted again. He clenched his hands at his knees, head rushing with all these thoughts and memories. He felt so dizzy. 

“I just can’t marry you.” Katsuragi sighed. “I’m a servant and I’m bound to Lord Nagamasa for many more years.” 

“But—” He started, but hardly knew what to say.

“You’re a beautiful girl. I am so sorry I have led you on this way. It’s been wrong of me to play with your feelings.” 

Whatever was being said, he didn’t understand any of it. 

“Marriage?” He laughed, “Why would we get married?” 

Katsuragi seemed stunned, “What?” He asked, with a shake of his head, “That’s what people do. I would never disrespect you this way, if I didn’t intend to marry you. I would never ruin you, you’re too precious.” 

Heat flooded his cheeks, at the confirmation of his own belief in Katsuragi’s opinion of him, but nothing made sense. Why was Katsuragi suddenly acting as though this was odd behavior? He had whispered all those apologies that night, but he wasn’t sure he was serious, especially after how good it all felt. What did Katsuragi have to apologize for? He’d stayed still and quiet only because he hadn’t known him yet. He knew him now, he knows he won’t hurt him, not physically at least. 

“You don’t want me?” He asked, putting on a fake tone of heartbreak. He knew he did. “I- I just don’t understand Katsuragi-kun.” Using the honorific for the first time. 

It seemed to guilt him even more. And he loved seeing it drain the color from his face. 

“Have you really been thinking of marrying me all this time? I understand these gifts better now but…” He looked around at the room, nothing in it belonged to him really, but one item of clothing. “You… and that night .” He whispered, eyes wide, “I’m just surprised.”

Katsuragi froze, his chest rising and falling with poorly disguised panic. 

“Did you not already ruin me?” He asked. Laying it all out before him. “I understand you’re a respectable man, but I’ve not asked for marriage tonight, have I?” 

He drew closer. Maybe he would get his victory, yet. He saw Katsuragi’s eyes flutter some as they flicked down to his chest and back. 

“You can’t just do that,” he said, “I can’t just have my way with you, it’s improper.”

“So you’re denying it?” He jolted with a short laugh. “Really?”

He pushed forward, pressing Katsuragi’s distressed frame fully to the ground, he still sat on his knees beside him but it took no time at all to flick off his shoes and draw up his skirts so he could slither atop his form, sinking his center to Katsuragi’s belly and throwing one leg over either side of his waist. 

“You’re denying you know the heat of my body?” He asked, rolling his hips slowly, running the dampening cloth of his underwear across Katsuragi’s torso. “You can really be inside me this time. You don’t want that?” He gasped, pinning Katsuragi’s arms to the ground with his own.

“You really were awake?“ He sobbed. He seemed terrified, like his world was crashing around him, probably worried about jail time or some fictional family he’d created for him— a father and a brother, coming to defend their daughter’s honor by removing her assaulter’s head. 

It wasn’t a wrong assumption to think he was some run away noble— if only it were that— but he wasn’t against letting Katsuragi think that’s what he was. Maybe if he went through with this, it would mean he’d be willing to die for his body, well and truly. It seemed like a dream. 

He leaned down and captured his lips, properly this time, his own wet and warm and Katsuragi’s trembling, so hesitant to return the kiss. 

“You said you couldn’t help yourself,” He broke the connection. His body was alight with sensation, he needed this. He needed it badly. “That I made you lose control, was that not true?” He whined. 

He scooted further back, the angle resting his ass upon something that was hard and firm against the plush curve of him. It made the man below moan aloud and wasn’t that something. 

He drew his hands up to the obi at his waist unwrapping it and letting his clothing open, exposing his chest to Katsuragi’s greedy hands. Something about this form was worthy of his attention. All of it. 

It felt so good as he squeezed and pinched and looked with such awe at his skin, his chest pebbling and turning a bright pink with the pressure of Katsuragi’s fingers and the roughness of his prodding.

“You don’t really believe,” he moaned, “that you need to marry me to fuck me. You don’t.” 

He gasped when Katsuragi’s hips bucked up suddenly, the hardness meeting the swell between his legs directly. It was indescribable. He cried out loudly, as Katsuragi’s began to wildly crash up into him over and over, unable to control himself any longer. 

Hands came up to tear off the rest of his outfit, leaving him completely bare except for his underwear. 

“Please, Katsuragi-kun!” He whined, and that sealed it. 

He was dragged up and off of the feverish body, being lifted and then thrown on his back against the mat on the floor. He watched from below as Katsuragi undressed himself quickly, and was shocked to see just what his sex looked like this entire time. It was swollen reddish, and stuck out like a tree branch from Katsuragi’s looming figure.

He fell back down upon him, mouth connecting with his chest instantly, suckling upon it. The sensation rushed straight to his groin. His nipples reddened as he left behind harsh marks from his biting.

“You’re so beautiful.” Katsuragi smiled up at him as he kissed down his stomach. “So, so beautiful.” 

His underwear clung to his lips as they were pulled, a string of wetness connecting himself to them. After they were gone he grabbed his thighs and pulled them apart as wide as they would go. The position felt so familiar yet so different from the time before, being able to look as Katsuragi saw him, well and truly. 

“Your cunt,” he sighed, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He brought both hands up to his folds, using them to spread him open, gazing down at this organ that brought him so much pleasure. 

Katsuragi wasted no time shoving two fingers in and fucking them in and out roughly. 

He screamed. He imagined he was probably being too loud but damn it all to hell, this was so much better than his brief touches. 

His body rocked back and forth with the harsh movement attached to the arm that was pistoning into him. Part of him wanted to ask him to slow down and the other part wanted to cry to never stop. 

His thumb came up to rub above his hole again, and the pleasure buzzed in his body from it, a new wave of wetness rushing down and coating the fingers inside of him. 

“I’m gonna put it in,” Katsuragi said, leaning his body down so they were flush together again, except this time there was nothing keeping them separated. He drew him in for a long kiss. 

Fucking, he learned, was pain. 

It burned harshly, he was too tense and tight, having never done this, not knowing what to expect. He hardly knew what he was doing and he could see now he had to admit that to himself. He was sure he was bleeding from the thing pushing its way inside him. It felt much larger than the two fingers, all he had ever taken before, and Katsuragi was none too gentle, immediately pulling out and shoving back in. 

He wanted to ask him to stop again, wanted to say something but couldn’t. He had asked for this. Demanded it, even.

He could feel his tear ducts, which hadn’t been used since he had awoken— since he’d been unable to hold the Gnosis, a grief too unbearable to speak of consuming his fragile mind,— begin to flood and he felt like a failure for it. This was supposed to be a fresh start. He was not meant to feel that sensation again. He didn’t want them to fall.

Katsuragi looked deeply into his eyes, with what felt like adoration, brows furrowed in pleasure and grinning haphazardly. His pace became languid as he kissed at his sopping cheeks, covering up the harsh cries coming out of his mouth, ignoring the way his small chest heaved with it, a smothering, weighted ordeal that further stole his already shallow breaths away. 

“You’re so good for me,” He’d hear, muffled by an inexplicable ringing in his ears. 

Katsuragi’s fingers snuck down between them and circled him some, raising back up to cradle his face through a new wave of fucking and smearing red streaks across his skin, he’d later find. It was an overwhelmingly messy, painful, and ugly thing. 

Yet still, it seemed fitting for a discarded puppet to be like this, to stay suspended, to have a use. 

With enough time he could ignore the ache, the blood, and his sobbing could turn to shuddering gasps. As Katsuragi kept going, kept hitting his insides with all he was worth, he felt like he was one step closer to understanding humanity. He wanted to grab on to it and hold forever. 

Eventually, with some clenching of his muscles, Katsuragi tensed, and he felt warmth seep through him, coating him in the warm white he could remember the look of if he closed his eyes and imagined his first night at the inn, willing it all to leak out of him as he knelt on the floor. He had watched it drip slowly, the weight of gravity eternally meek. He’d thought it beautiful.

Katsuragi held his hip bones with intense pressure, leaving purples, and reds, and blues imprinted on him, he knew he’d treasure them in the coming days. He bucked into him with a dwindling pace before softening inside him fully. 

And he laid there, in pain, unsatisfied, and with the weight of Man pressing down upon him.

Katsuragi stilled in his arms, hesitatingly pulling up and yanking at his hands that had been thrown around his neck, still seated inside him, he looked down at the creature and seemed only frightened, not grateful like he expected. 

“What are we going to do?” He was asked in a panicked tone.

Katsuragi shoved his legs apart once more, firm palms holding his knees flat out to his sides and he watched intently as with the first tug, it began to leak out of him. 

“I didn’t mean to, oh God.” He said. 

He had no idea what to do as they sat in silence for a moment and watched his exposed sex. Was this normal to be doing? 

“What do you want to do? We could find someone or—?” Katsuragi finally met his eyes again, “Or…?“

He looked at him almost as if he expected he’d truly have an answer. 

He must’ve been too out of it to disguise the confusion on his face, for Katsuragi seemed to flicker between bewilderment at his reaction or lack thereof, then certain horror. 

“H-How old are you?” He asked. 

And truthfully, he had no idea. He also was unsure what age he appeared that he should be. He elected to stay quiet. 

Which was a wrong choice. 

“Oh, God. Dear, Archon, please forgive me.” He sat on his rear with his eyes tightly shut and his hands clasped before him, as though he truly thought he could be getting through to the Electro Archon herself. 

“I—“ He finally prompted, lifting up on his elbows uncertainly, “Katsuragi-kun?“

“You could get pregnant, you know that, right?” 

He nodded without truly knowing. 

“Okay, good, you do.” He grabbed at his thighs again, firm and harsh, closing him together and looking away. “We- we can wash you. Sneak to the baths—“ 

“They’re usually deserted within the hour.” He supplied. 

He wasn’t sure why Katsuragi wouldn’t just use a cloth like the time before but he could hardly follow a human's wishes in a normal setting, let alone one that seemed to be as serious and awkward as this had become. 

He began to sit upright fully, unabashed in his nakedness while Katsuragi shook like a leaf with his own gathered clothes drawn up to conceal his lower half. He’d moved quite a bit away on the floor already. 

As he leaned against the wall he felt himself throb and leak and it took no time at all to reach down and with the first few touches to the nub he was spasming with a cry. He drew his knees to his chest after, and took the deep breaths he desperately needed. 

He got drowsy soon enough, and closed his eyes, being shaken some time later by Katsuragi who pulled his kimono around his shoulders and led him stumbling into the dark of the night. 

As he sunk into the bath with no sweet scented soaps, and filled mostly of lukewarm water, Katsuragi noticed him again for what felt like the first time in hours, rubbing his arms up and down and nudging him apart with his knees. 

“I’m going to need to touch you, is that okay?“ He asked, enunciated strangely, drawn out and long, “Unless you want to try.”

“No, please touch me.” He sighed, debating pleading for another release from the man’s hands since the only one he’d gotten had come from his own. 

His fingers slid along his skin under the water making their way to his cunt again. He’d dragged them along the outside of his folds and began to play with him. It didn’t feel good . It felt without a purpose as he avoided anywhere that gave him pleasure. 

Eventually, he just felt the drag of the touch like its barrier was water alone, the slick all rubbed away. A single digit inserted itself within him, swirled around inside his hole as deep as it could go and then was tugged out quickly. 

He jolted back, “What are you doing?” He asked, staying out of his reach as he tried to quell his worried mind.

“What?” Katsuragi shook his head, distressed. 

“What are you doing? He asked, “Why are you taking it?” He looked down in the water and could see the white still webbed viciousness drifting about. If he touched it, it clung to him briefly before floating right off. 

“You could get pregnant .” He replied, “Please, be serious.” 

Whatever Katsuragi wanted to do, he didn’t want it. 

“I don’t want you to take it. It’s mine. I earned it.” He said, plainly. 

Katsuragi didn’t understand. How could he expect him to? 

He reached down and tried shoving whatever was close to the entrance back in. 

“Please Katsuragi-kun, don’t take it.” He said, as if he would ever let him. He moved his body just so before bucking down on his fingers again. 

His love looked at him, mouth agape. 

“Please, just, give me more?” 

“What?” He was breathless. 

“I want it back. Fuck it back into me.” His cunt throbbed again. 

When he saw that Katsuragi was covering his hardness with his hands then, he waded through the water to him and forced them off. 

“What are you doing?“ He cried, as he took hold of it and began pumping it firmly. 

Despite the protesting, Katsuragi didn’t do much to prevent him from seating his swollen and painful sex back onto him. He whimpered, and pushed his hands away from his shoulders but ultimately let him fuck himself on and off of it rhythmically. 

It felt a bit better this way, when he could set the pace. 

“Thank you,” He sighed softly, throwing his head back. His still done-up hair had finally begun to loosen. He could feel one of the pins tugging on his scalp. As the first tendril fell loose, Katsuragi’s wet hands came up to begin undoing his hair.

He let him sit down upon him as he ran his fingers through the dark locks, watching as they fell into the water and began to sway like seaweed on a new moon-blackened night. 

“You are unreal.” Katsuragi whispered, cupping his chin as he inspected his face. “Who are you?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, for he had truly forgotten his name. “I know am a creation of the Gods.” Ambiguous as he could be. 

Katsuragi stilled but didn’t prod any further, giving in, beginning to fuck up into him as he chased his own pleasure. They moved in tandem and it was so much better than before. He rolled his hips, squeezing himself against Katsuragi’s body, mouth open besides his ear as his shattering moans pierced the air. He’d never known how to be quiet. 

“Please, please,” He chanted gratefully as the high he remembered all that time ago began to build once again. He could bask in it forever. He wanted more. 

He ground himself against the softness of Katsuragi’s stomach, catching at that pleasure point, and bit his teeth into the meaty shoulder below him as tension finally broke once more in his body. 

It was muffled as best he could, potent screams emanating from his throat as his legs jerked and twitched through the spasming in his core. 

Katsuragi just carried on, and made no move to pull himself free when he reached his climax too, spilling inside him once again. 

He felt so full and loved then. 

Katsuragi kissed with tense pressure, holding his face between both hands and hardly letting him come up for air. The overwhelming nature of it served only to entice him more. He couldn’t imagine a better place than right here in this embrace. 

He tightened around Katsuragi softening inside him, having questions he wanted answers to but the idea of showing his hand, his ignorance, served only to unsettle something within him. He wanted control. He wasn’t sure what was so wrong about what they’d just done, hadn’t any idea really. What could possibly be faulty in an expression of love? 

“Do you love me?” He panted against his hand, eyes searing into his own as fingers invaded his mouth. They prodded at his lips, the skin was salt against his tongue. 

“Yes, yes, I do.” Katsuragi replied quickly, “I love you.” His hips bucked up again, as he twitched between his legs with the words. 

He knew it.

Chapter Text

He met Mikoshi Nagamasa some weeks later. 

After that night, Katsuragi could hardly get enough of him. What used to be quiet conversations sat a few feet apart in the hours of his free time had become something warm and rotten. Unable to keep his hands away, fucking him against the walls of the inn, shushing him to keep quiet, he was sporting a kiss-bruised neck oh, so often. 

Katsuragi lavished his body. He felt his mouth on him again, for the first time fully able to witness him as he ran his hands through sweat-dampened hair, and came so hard he’d scratched his love bloody. 

He’d seemed to throw whatever reservations he had to the wind, fucking him quick and hard and climaxing with roarous cries, pressing his palm against his lower stomach to feel the bloating. He never mentioned it again, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about what it had all meant when he was forced to laze around all day, left to his own devices.

And that was the huge glaring burden in his life as it was. Deliriously happy and fucked content could only last as long as Katsuragi was around, and he’d become even more hesitant to leave the room ever since he’d stumbled into the owners and been given daunting glares and heard the woman taunt him under her breath, the word ‘whore’ sliding off her tongue with an ease he never wanted her to feel again. He contemplated tearing it out, framing her husband and reporting it to the soldiers he knew were nearby. But, alas that was just fantasy. 

And besides, he was unsure where he would go, where he and Katsuragi could meet in private, if not here, in this quaint lodging. 

Katsuragi had always been secretive about what it was they did in that old forgery, but he became antsier than usual, slowly and steadily, and he was nothing if not deathly curious about it all. How could he not be when he wanted to know everything? Wanted to have everything that made Katsuragi himself . He was his , wasn’t he? 

It was not difficult to retrace the route they’d taken the day he’d been found. Still, he felt uncertain on his legs, listlessness aching in his bones. He was too stationary in that room. It’d been so long since he’d been out and it was bringing back that which planted itself firmly in his gut like a rock. 

From across the shoreline he could see the single nondescript door he’d gone through before, attempting to remember where the slatted window might be located from the outside of the building.

As populated as the location seemed to have been in the past, there was hardly anyone around whenever he’d seen it. The paranoia was still there as he crouched low and darted through the white sands and made his way into the brush lining the base of the mountainside. Excitement thrummed beneath his skin. 

He knelt down and tied up the cloth reaching his mid shins, wanting to feel less constricted. It had been a long time since he had done any rigorous activity, only the coupling he and Katsuragi indulged in, but he hardly felt that counted. He moved with a grace he’d never learned for himself, and the maintained flexibility he’d been made to have. It had gotten him far, but with the sun in his eyes and his hair weighing heavily down his back, he still felt disoriented. 

He sat low on his heels, listening closely for any sound of movement. When he heard none, he approached the window, intending to peek in only to be stopped in his tracks as he heard sudden yelling. 

“We are almost done. What do you mean, ‘no’?” The harsh authority in the booming voice vibrated within his body, a sickly buzz in his head as memories he couldn’t place screamed to get out at the reminder. But he’d hardly ever been in the presence of a man like this before. There were no memories to speak of. “Need I remind you of your place, boy?” 

“Nagamasa-san, I agree your hobby is just as beneficial to you as the others, I do, but—“ Katsuragi’s voice was soft yet stern, aching with respect he so obviously no longer wanted to hold on to. 

“Is it the girl?“ Nagamasa interrupted with a laugh, “We’ll be leaving here soon enough and you started seeing some village woman like I’ve told you to never do a million times before. Do you really not value my advice that much?” 

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.” 

He bristled at the words, confusion swirling his mind, unsure why Katsuragi would deny their affiliation. 

“Oh, really? The others have told me about her. They've seen you with her. In fact, we could go down and meet her right now if you so wanted. That’s what you seem to want, isn’t it? Abandoning our work for a quick fuck?” 

Katsuragi stayed silent for a while, thinking over what to say next, he presumed. “Will we be leaving when you are finished with the blade?”

“Yes. Certainly.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir, for reminding me of my responsibilities.” His voice didn’t betray his feelings this time. “I will say as much when we next meet, break it off and I won’t see her again.” 

He stumbled back with a small gasp, falling on his backside, pressing his palm against his lips to silence himself. His heart pounded with the risk of discovery but it seemed he was not heard. 

“Good.” Nagamasa stated, “Now, come.” 

They left the room in silence and it took some minutes before he was brave enough to risk another look inside. 

It was mostly as he remembered it, only missing a few of the sleeping mats that had been there before. The dust had yet to settle, dancing in the sunlight streaming through the air, but there was a melancholy to the room nonetheless, items strewn about he had seen before on Katsuragi’s person, like his space had been defiled in a rush. 

He couldn’t leave, knowing what awaited him if he went back to the inn. It couldn’t happen, simply couldn't. He’d never let Katsuragi do that to him and certainly not when it was his hand being forced to. 

Clanking resounded around him, almost sounding as though it were coming from all directions, so much closer and louder than he had ever heard it.

The sky was still a half hour or so from darkening yet, so he gave himself the time. He could figure it out. He could find something .

When he slipped inside, the hallways were deserted, as they had been before. With the walls barriering the sharp beats, he could think more clearly, but the rhythmic thumping was inescapable, he could feel it below his feet as it vibrated its way across the glossy wooden flooring, through his shoes and up the bones of his legs. 

The further in the facility he went, the more opulent it became, obvious markers of Nagamasa’s touch. Brush paintings and poetry scrolls lined the walls, ancient blade work inked in detail, blueprints that were a part of its history, so many signed with the crimson red stamped characters to signify them as of the Electro Archon’s creation. They were gorgeous, he was loath to admit, elegant and clean, perfectly balanced weapons of her design that he felt a rush of admiration for despite himself. 

There were large looming doors at what he presumed to be the center of the building. They reminded him of where he awoke, similar styling and detailing of which he knew was all of her tastes. She was inescapable. 

He huffed in frustration as he opened them, peeking in to see a hefty desk scattered with pages and pages of obsessive writings. He could only assume this was Nagamasa’s office. 

There were two distinct techniques to the characters and the voices behind each in the papers. One chaotic and stilted, a stream of thought, journaling out his schedule, almost hour for hour for weeks on end. It had to be at least six months worth in its entirety. 

The other was neat, practiced scripture, a flow and ease to the words that were long used to writing for more official documents. The most recent, a letter to the shogunate about their progress investigating the facility. Investigating? He wondered what there possibly could be within these walls worth an Inspector’s time. 

Ah, so that was who Mikoshi Nagamasa was. A shogunate samurai investigating with his yoriki at the command of the Tenryou Commision. Katsuragi spoke of being a servant, but he had no clue it was to someone of such importance. 

He read as much as he could absorb, praying there would still be some dwindling light once he escaped back through the door he’d come in. 

Perhaps it was too dangerous to stay where he had been, he considered, trying to ignore the pang in his chest at the concept. 

But it ultimately rang truthful in his mind. He couldn’t let them take him. For all he knew he’d be too bothersome for her to want to just put to sleep again, and she’d disassemble him outright the next time they came in contact. Perhaps even, he was what they were investigating. The intakes didn’t specify otherwise, hardly said much of anything at all really. 

He flew quickly through the halls, removing his shoes so running on the perfectly flat floors was less bothersome and quieter. He regretted not grabbing more supplies from his things, but he couldn’t have anticipated this development whatsoever. He never would have thought Katsuragi would become untrustworthy in his eyes. 

Love could only go so far, superseded only by his desire to live. There was no guarantee of that here. No guarantee of that with Katsuragi. 

He made it to a wide open floor, looking up he saw balcony railings lined the upper level, looking down into the center, a perch to watch those who’d used to practice the sword arts, before he’d finally heard the presence of another person. 

They stomped down the upper hallway without a care in the world, arms held above their head casually, whistling a peaceful tune as they skipped down the stairs leading to where he was. 

There were few places to hide, only a wide pillar he threw his body behind just before he’d be in sight of the other man. He couldn’t see from where he was in the dark, hoping he was unnoticeable as he only heard him pass by. 

The urgent need to get out tripled as he had to force his breaths to steady a moment before moving again. He couldn’t lose control, not yet, not ever. 

Just as he was nearing the exit, he heard another figure down the hallway he needed to go through. He skidded to a halt, but not soon enough to not to be seen. 

“Who the hell are you?” He heard behind himself as he ran as quickly as he could backtracking the way he’d come. “Stop!”

The person behind him was large but he was faster, still. He crossed the open empty room again, seeing sunlight peek out at the end of a hall he had yet to go down. With no other choice and the only promise of freedom, he burst through the door. 

He found himself in a vast courtyard, catching sight of who he presumed to be Nagamasa by the uniform he wore, Katsuragi, and one other man who he couldn’t place, all staring at his appearance. The clanging stopped, orange embers bouncing off the molten metal they worked on with the last hit. 

The man behind him finally caught up, bumping into him as he fell towards the group, “I found— this person—!“ He panted, faithfully. “Roaming— the halls!” 

Katsuragi looked heartbroken, struck with a shock that would not so easily be shaken and Nagamasa’s mouth was agape. He looked haunted as though he’d just seen a ghost before straightening his features coolly, hiding whatever it was he saw in him. 

Katsuragi rushed forward, quickly pulling him back inside by his upper arm, just as he had done so long ago, phantom pains in his shoulder reminding him as much, taking him away from the eyes lingering on his figure. 

“What are you doing here?” He demanded. 

“You’re an investigator.” He replied, backing away, “I need to get out of here,” he whispered, hoping he was right to try and place his trust in his lover's hands now, “Please get me out of here quickly.” He was practically forced to, out of options. 

Katsuragi looked stunned, swallowing heavily just before the door banged open once more, making them both jump. 

He looked to the floor, untucking his hair behind his ear and letting it fall into his face as Nagamasa approached them, the other three he’d heard scattered around the facility in tow. 

“Katsuragi-san, who is this?” Asked a voice unfamiliar to him, too excitedly.

Katsuragi’s body was positioned in front of him, hands shaking where he held them behind his back formally. He reached forward, grabbing onto them like a lifeline and squeezed. They squeezed back. 

“I’m so, so sorry, sir. This will never happen again, I swear. She’s just curious—“

“No.” The room palpably lowered in temperature from the tone of the reply. There was no talking their way out of it, that much was clear. “Bring her to my room and we will discuss this.” He regret ever stepping foot in this place. 

He swayed on his feet, as the floor nearly gave out beneath him. Vision swimming black in his panic.

His room was just across the way from the office he’d invaded before. He hoped he’d put things back as they should be, imagining how much worse this could be if Nagamasa knew the extent of his snooping. He’d dropped his shoes in the chase, sock covered feet padding through the room, landing on plush carpeting, looking around at the highly decorated quarters. Nagamasa sat himself cross legged on the floor and gestured for them to shut the door behind themselves and sit in front of him. 

“I—“ Katsuragi began.

“So, this is her .” He laughed quietly, “You know, Katsuragi-san, I’d been shocked to hear of it before but looking at her now, I can understand.”

Katsuragi’s hands twitched in his lap but he didn’t dare say a thing, even if he knew the words surely had to have upset him. 

“She’s so beautiful, almost the splitting image of the Electro Archon herself.” 

“What?” Katsuragi shook his head at him, confused.

“I met her once, you know.” The words tilted his world on its axis, “I’ve told you stories of my mother, yes? She and the Shogun were dear friends.” 

“You have, sir.”

“You look just like her.” He patted at the floor in front of him, “Come.” 

It took all his willpower to raise his eyes, properly taking in Nagamasa for the first time. He was significantly older than he or Katsuragi appeared, dark hair peppering itself grey. He was stocky, the uniform that looked so typical on Katsuragi downright imposing on him. 

He sat up on his knees, crawling just the slightest bit forward, his hands resting on the floor in front of the Inspector, fingers brushing his legs. 

Nagamasa’s hands drew towards his face, pulling his hair back in a tight grip he grunted with the pain of, while the other cradled his chin, turning him back and forth to observe his features intensely. 

“Just that once was enough for me to remember her forever. I’d never forget something so striking.” He smiled, “You don’t know what you’ve found here, my boy.”

His head was tilted to look back at Katsuragi, seeing nothing but intense sadness upon his brow. 

A thumb prodded his lower lip, nail clinking against his bottom teeth as his hair was tugged again. Nagamasa stared deeply into his right eye, watching as he blinked a few times. 

“Just missing the mole.” He said, “What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one.” He grunted. 

“I see.” He hummed smoothly, pulling him closer, turning him so he was sat with his back very nearly flush against his chest, sitting in his lap. He readjusted his grip on him, gathering all the stands as if his fingers were the tie at the crown of his skull and he slung the other arm across his stomach, resting it on the groove of his hip. 

“So, this is who you were going to leave me for?” He dropped his lips to the skin where his neck met his shoulder. 

Katsuragi spluttered, “No! I—“

“You think I didn’t notice you siphoning funds? You’re as discreet as I taught you to be, son.” His kisses trailed to the ball of his shoulder, “Honestly, good choice.” 

He heard him inhale through his nose, as though taking in his scent, “You always did have a taste for sweet things.” 

“Please stop.” He finally spoke aloud. He did not want to be touched this way. 

“Oh? Would you prefer I write you up for breaking in? Trespassing? Would you truly prefer imprisonment to us just getting to know each other some, hm?” 

He could say nothing to that. 

“You know, Katsuragi-san, I’ve been thinking of taking a wife recently. Did I ever tell you that?” He emphasized the words with a hand trailing across his stomach to his chest, still thankfully fully covered, but he knew he wouldn’t be for much longer. “I don’t mind your seconds.

“We could have her together. It could be just like old times.”

Katsuragi made a choking sound but he couldn’t look at him, tightly shutting his eyes as he was talked about as though he were a piece of meat. He wished to be anywhere else.

But she would always be the greater evil. 

His hand slipped beneath his clothes, the crossed fabric parting and he gripped at his breast, and made a noise of disappointment, “Practically flat. I’m sure we could fix that, Katsuragi.” Nagamasa said into his ear. There was something about not being spoken to himself that made everything all the more torturous. 

“Sir… Lord Nagamasa, sir.” Katsuragi finally got out. “What are you doing ?” 

“Well, the boys tell me she has no family to speak of. You can finally stop paying for that damned room. She can stay here. We could all use a woman in our lives.” 

He felt his hardness then, against his backside. 

“Don’t you think it’s only fair? I mean, you were keeping something this good to yourself for so long. It’s a bit selfish.” 

“I— I suppose.” 

Betrayal burned brightly in his mind, he opened his eyes at once to glare at Katsuragi. 

“That’s what I thought. It’ll be a nice end to our journey here.” 

He began to shake as it became more apparent there was little way out of this. 

“Help me lift her.” Nagamasa ordered and Katsuragi complied, holding his hands together as though they were bound and pulling him up to his feet. 

Nagamasa had a large plush futon that sat in the corner. They both threw him face down on it. He contemplated running but it just seemed useless to even try as two larger men had a firm grip on him with no signs of letting go any time soon. 

Nagamasa stood back and watched as he guided Katsuragi through stripping him, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, apparently saving that for himself. 

Katsuragi held his hands tightly above his head and Nagamasa began to trail touches along his exposed spine. 

“You are so beautiful, just like a god . I don’t say that lightly.” He stated, leaning down and crushing his body with his bare chest pressing against his back. He could hardly breathe. 

His hand was yanking at his hair again, only this time as he stole the strands, he began to part them, crossing them over each other quickly, practiced hands plaiting his hair more swiftly than he could ever do himself. He felt delirious when it was done, as it was used as a rope, lifting him to look at Katsuragi in front of them on the other side of the bed. 

“She really does look just like her, but younger.” 

“Ack!” He yelled as he was hauled upward by his head, Katsuragi finally letting go of his hands then, his body lifted up and away from covers so his back arched and his chest was fully exposed to the air. 

“Kiss her, Katsuragi. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you do it. You were so cute back then.”

His hands were buried near his scalp, crying out at the pain of the weight of his body being held up by his hair, so it took nothing at all for Katsuragi’s tongue to slip its way inside his mouth. He didn’t return the kiss. 

Katsuragi gave it his all though, sucking and biting at his unmoving lips, hands resting at his bare waist and cheek. He mouthed useless words against his lips silently, but he refused them entirely. This man wasn’t safe. He didn’t love him. 

He felt so awful about being so wrong. 

Nagamasa stuck a hand down his underwear then, running at his cunt, prepping him he knew, trying to get him turned on for his own sake. He pulled them down to his knees. 

“It’s been a long time, forgive me if I'm eager, young thing.” He ground himself across his sex, slotted between his thighs with a moan, and despite everything, he knew this would be happening whether he wanted it to or not, and he didn’t want it to be too horrible. 

“Please get me wet first, Katsuragi-kun.” He pleaded lowly, desperate. 

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Nagamasa groaned. He pulled him higher so he was able to slip the cloth all the way down him and off and he was finally entirely bare, “Spread your legs and Katsu- kun… yes, exactly.” 

The childish nickname registered in the back of his mind but he couldn’t focus on that just yet, watching Katsuragi lay on his back, sliding his head between his thighs. 

“Now, sit.” 

It was embarrassing, pressing his cunt down to Katsuragi’s face. This was certainly a position they’d never tried before. They had no reason to. 

He lapped at him like a dog, tongue generously wet with his own saliva, he kissed and licked, all the while he heard all these new words called into his ear as Nagamasa told his servant all the lewd things to do to him. 

Katsuragi’s favorite thing to call his sex was cunt. But it seemed Nagamasa preferred the word pussy. And he called the ball of nerves that was so quick to make him come, his clit as he told Katsuragi to suck .

It occurred to him then how little they really spoke during sex. Or how monotonous it could be. It was so exciting when he’d first been fucked but he assumed it could be dull doing the same things many times over. He felt like he knew just as much about himself as he had that first day. It was a surprising and terrifying revelation.

With his tongue shoved inside him, like it was his cock, lapping in and out, he came for the first time in the presence of anyone other than Katsuragi.

“Okay that’s enough.” Nagamasa said. “I want to be in you already, I can’t take it.” 

Once Katsuragi was out from under him, Nagamasa pressed his large hand flat against his back. His ass remained in the air but his face was shoved back down into the sheets again. 

Katsuragi grabbed his hands and this time, instead of binding them together, he interlaced all their fingers like they’d done time and time before. 

He twisted his head so he could breathe just as Nagamasa’s fingers breached him from the back. “Oh, look at you.” 

He moaned as he added a second, then third, stretching his oversensitive cunt. 

“Please,” He gasped.

“You want this now? I thought you wanted me to stop. So fickle.” Nagamasa teased. It made him sick.

Katsuragi leaned down to brush his cheek that faced the ceiling with his still wet lips, a soft kiss. He felt disgusted as he was peppered with them, before Katsuragi finally met his mouth upside down at an odd angle, trying to capture the cry as Nagamasa pushed himself in. He could still taste himself upon him. 

He hardly knew where he was as he panicked, struggling and wheezing for air as it was all pushed out of his lungs at the intrusion. He tried to kick back towards Nagamasa, only achieving having his sense of balance thrown off, and Nagamasa was able to hold him up instead, arms hooked effortlessly around his knees as he held him open right up against himself. He was strong enough to keep him suspended there, reliant on his body for his own stability. All the blood began to rush down towards his head, creating an even greater sense of delirium as he was harshly pried open again and again. 

The impact of their skin slotting together sounded throughout the room, like nothing he’d ever heard before. Katsuragi had always been smooth with his body, his thrusts fluid and even. This was as though Nagamasa relished in the noise, wanting them to be as loud as possible. 

He couldn’t maintain himself, mewling like an injured animal, and in some ways he was one. Cramping bloomed in his inner thighs, wanting so badly to just be able to close his legs again. The pain of it shot up his spine and he tensed with a cry. 

“You’re so good. Such a sweet thing.” Nagamasa groaned deeply. 

He absently registered the sound of sniffling, almost entirely drowned out by his own noises, his mouth agape, disconcerting as he had no way of stopping himself. 

He peeked his eyes open once again and looked up, just above where he was still being held onto tightly, Katsuragi’s face was creased with unyielding pain, tears falling steadily down his face. 

He heard the apologies then, finally breaking through to his ears, actually audible this time, soft thumbs brushing along his hands as he muttered, “I’m sorry,” over and over. 

Katsuragi still held onto that kindness, even through this horror, it seemed. 

Somehow, despite it all, seeing Katsuragi’s face flushed, water pouring out his eyes and dripping onto their torrid hands that clung for dear life to each other, sent a shock through his body, clenching down against the man inside him as he felt his blood pulse. 

He felt too hot, overwhelmed in an unfamiliar room, the bedding below him too plush and thick, moulding around his body, sinking his face and nose into the down of it, the once cool fabrics had long since heated up with his skin. 

“Aw, Katsu, are you feeling left out?” Nagamasa howled, his laughter permeating the room as he just kept going . “It’s okay. You can use her mouth, I don’t mind.” 

He gasped for air and tried to imagine his already troubled breathing stolen from him by a cock down his throat. It scared him. 

“I think it would do you good. Remind you what a whore is for.” 

Katsuragi’s cries increased in volume with the words, but he followed suit, parting his clothing to grab at himself and began tugging himself to full hardness. 

With his hands free he held at Katsuragi’s thighs hoping and praying he would get his point across by scratching him if he was really desperate for air. 

Katsuragi held his face up and he dutifully opened his mouth, fearful of what would happen should he protest. He could hardly keep it shut anyway through his screams. Trying to was pointless. 

He’d only had him in his mouth a few times before. It was rarely something asked of him, as with their limited time Katsuragi greatly preferred to just fuck him. But sometimes he’d warm him up, tenderly lick the underside and relish in Katsuragi’s hissing as he sucked him into sensitivity. 

This was nothing like that. He was expected to be pliant, his face another hole just like his pussy, as hips pistoned towards his face. 

Katsuragi was much slower in pace than Nagamasa was, hardly seeming to enjoy himself as he tried to orgasm through his tears. He was barely even hard enough to make it down his throat, skin scrunching up back towards his tonsils. It was still unbearably choking, however. 

He sputtered and coughed whenever Katsuragi slid back all the way out. He’d watch a string of saliva trail between them. His saliva. It broke just in time for the cock to intrude past his lips once again, fretfully trying to chase release. 

Nagamasa must have liked the view. He pulled him towards the side so he could stare as it entered, distending his cheek, and slid back out again. He must’ve looked dazed, flushed red with activity and his lips swollen and shiny. 

Nagamasa without warning grabbed him and flipped him onto his back, holding his waist up even higher so he could mouth at his nipples. He bit and pulled and he screamed from the pain of it. 

“You would be perfect, swelled with my children. I’m sure Katsu-kun would be so jealous. Wouldn’t you? Just like—“ 

Katsuragi cut him off with a wail as he could no longer keep his sobs quiet. Nagamasa seemed to revel in it with a groan. 

“Can you feel me in here, sweetheart?” He asked him, with a palm pressed against his lower stomach. “You’re gonna take what I give you,” He panted, “And you’re going to make me a child of God.” 

He found his release at the thought. His progeny being birthed by a puppet of the Raiden Shogun’s creation would surely make his bloodline very strong but he wasn’t even sure he could have children. Or how mortals had children. 

Nagamasa stayed inside him plugging his cunt so nothing spilled. His hand trailed down to circle his clit again, presumably wanting to feel him climax around him before he was finished with him. 

As much as he wanted to be done with the man, be out of his mind and sight, he couldn’t come. He felt almost nothing from the touches. He felt outside his own body, only registering the wet and the cramping of his full stomach and tensed legs. 

Understanding that to be fruitless after a minute or so, Nagamasa leaned forward and grabbed Katsuragi’s drifting cock, still inches from his head. 

“Come on, kid.” He huffed, “Do I have to do everything for you?” 

With some touches, a lot less than he expected given Katsuragi’s state, white fluid spurted everywhere, across his hair and cheeks and eyelashes, onto Nagamasa’s hand. 

Nagamasa guided the cock back to his mouth again, telling him to lick him clean. And he did, never mind his own body, his own cleanliness. 

Katsuragi’s cock was limp in his mouth, he tongued at the tip, beneath the fold of skin where come had stayed caught between. It did not take long at all. 

Nagamasa finally sat back, tugging himself away, before promptly grabbing him by his heels and pulling his wrecked body towards the wall. He urged him into an uncomfortable position, his ass up against it and resting his upper back and shoulders on the solid ground. 

“Don’t move an inch.” He was told.

Upside down, he watched with his dirtied face as Nagamasa had a hushed conversation with his distraught servant, patting him on the back, rubbing his shoulders and giving him a short hug. It seemed like he did care about him, just like a father would. 

Nagamasa turned around towards the door to his room, still naked as he crossed the hall to his office, taking a moment or so before returning with something metal in his hands. 

He attached a cuff to his ankle suddenly, before he understood what was happening. He jerked up, falling to his side but as he moved to stand one of Nagamasa’s bare feet connected harshly with his chest in a rough kick.

“Back on the wall! Don’t let yourself leak. Ever again.” He said. 

The other end of the chain hooked around a wooden structural pillar in the center of the room. There was certainly no way for him to get out now. 

Katsuragi finally stood, gathering whatever clothes of his might have been discarded. Huh, he hadn’t even noticed whenever those had come off. He watched as his body squirmed against the wall before looking away back at Nagamasa, who was gathering his own clothes and putting them back on his body. 

“Back to work?“ He asked, like nothing had happened, like they’d just taken a short break and nothing else. 

Katsuragi looked his way once more before ultimately nodding. 

They shut the door behind them as they left together and still, he didn’t move, fearful even while alone.

Chapter Text

The blade took another month to complete. 

He spent the time mostly locked away in Nagamasa’s rooms. He was held in his arms at night after he was used, limbs wrapped around his waist while he lay awake listening to the still air be interrupted by the snoring at his ear. He was cradled to his body as though he were a child’s doll, a comfort item tossed aside at will before crawling back to it at night, when they struggled to fall asleep again. 

The only time he got anything adjacent to the freedom he longed for was when he was allowed to stroll the courtyard while the others worked. He’d not seen anything but the last dredges of the setting sun in weeks. The shackle was never removed, remaining around his leg since it had first been attached. He bathed around it, stretched his way around his room as far as he could manage, and tugged at it helplessly in his alone time, but it was of no use. The other end attached itself to Katsuragi’s wrist whenever he went outside, an added noise to the already ear splitting hits. The chain dragged on the flat rocks, sounding like windchimes, and he stood as far away from the others as he could, unable to forget the pressure of their touches whenever he caught sight of their skin. 

He was able to breathe fresh air at least. 

Nagamasa didn’t like the others using him in his room all that often, but they did anyway, it made the space even more cloying, toxic with the presence of the five men in the facility. 

His stomach had begun to swell, perhaps imperceptibly to the others but noticeable to himself. He experienced a paranoia he’d never felt before, shying more desperately away from the hits they would make to his person, wrapping his legs and arms up around his middle in defense, in lieu of his head. It felt terribly odd and he began to think—

Nagamasa didn’t allow anyone else to come inside him, including Katsuragi, who was still the one who came closest, holding him tightly as he bucked into him seated on his lap, hardly pulling all the way out, letting it spurt just outside, dripping down the folds. He wasn’t quite sure why Katsuragi would do this. Still territorial, he supposed, that feeling of sullied victory eating at him. 

The others would stay far away, preferring his face and mouth, sometimes even his hair, and one in particular, his backside, something he’d never had done to him or expected to experience before coming here. The armory officer who frequently patrolled the halls, Miyazaki, seemed to have a thing for it. 

He would lay him on his side and stretch his ass with increasing numbers of fingers. Fucking them in and out and it was so different from his pussy, smooth and tense without use. 

When he had touched the area for the first time, he screamed and scratched at his eyes and ever since his arms were always first bound when alone in Miyazaki’s presence. The red marks upon his face faded pretty quickly but for the week they had been healing he felt the only satisfaction he’d been able to for his entire imprisonment. It never stopped him from trying again, always a rampant struggle for as long as he could keep up whenever he was pushed to the ground and harshly thrust into for hours. Miyazaki’s stamina was unlike the others. He had a restraint they did not. 

It was always painful but surprisingly never as painful as that first time with Katsuragi. Miyazaki always came prepared with slick oils and items of increasing sizes to put inside him, making sure he was just about wide enough for his large cock. He took it slow, something anyone else would seldom do, tight grip upon his hips and fingers wrapped around his entire thigh, waiting for him to adjust, leaving bruises that would take days to fully develop, but he always knew just who they came from. 

When he spilled deep inside the wrong hole and Nagamasa would return not long after, to see his body, nearly incapable of movement practically presented for him where he slept, he’d waste no time taking him, letting himself relax post-orgasm, like he would be getting the best rest of his life, and he forced back into that horrible position like always, with his body upside down against the wall, and those nights he worried, perhaps absurdly, as he felt their spent move deeper and deeper inside him, Miyazaki’s through his intestines, whether it would ever come out or if he’d be stuck with that sickly, overfilled bloating that made him feel dizzy all night long for the rest of his existence. 

He was beckoned across the courtyard, drawn onto his knees for Nozomu who leaned back against the structure of the decorative awning. He winced as his kimono— one of the ones Katsuragi had purchased, taken from the inn alongside his other belongings, thrown into a chest in Nagamasa’s room for his use, a color and fabric which he now resented but still felt guilt for dirting— was pressed into the rockbed by the weight of his body. He couldn’t draw up the hem and let his bare knees onto the ground, he’d already learned that bloody lesson. He felt a tug on his foot, as though Katsuragi was out of reach, but he was closer to the group than he had been even before, in this position. 

He ignored it. 

Nozomu grabbed the back of his skull as he pulled himself free from his pants, resting his cock on his awaiting tongue and flicking it back and forth with a cruel laugh. His brows drew into a deep scowl as he stared up at the man, who only further cackled, shoving him down the length quickly to choke the aggression out of him. His nails ached to claw his thighs through the cloth of his uniform. 

“Give it a rest.” He heard Katsuragi grumble from behind him. 

“I mean she’s here, why can’t I—“ Nozomu began his reply.

Nagamasa interrupted with a cry, holding the blade that was nearly half his size out before him, it was a slate black in need of cleaning up and the ornamentals were swathed in purples and golds. He beamed proudly at those around him, finally pleased with his project after months of work and designing. 

Miyazaki approached him and inspected its weight once it was passed over. He nodded slowly towards Nagamasa who was downright giddy with the approval. It was an odd look on the older man. 

Nozomu grumbled at the interruption but wouldn’t dare show displeasure towards the Inspector directly. He tucked his hardness back into his clothing and hauled him up off his knees by his elbow, holding his body tight to his front to grind steadily into him as they approached the group chatting about the sword. Nozomu groped at his ass on the way with soft puffs of air hitting his cheeks when he turned to scowl back at him. No one else seemed to notice or care, distracted by their senior officer. 

With the basic structure finally perfected, all Nagamasa needed to do was refine the details. The art form was incredibly difficult, something that took a lifetime to master. Nagamasa creating something passable in a few months time was impressive no matter how it was looked at. All the men saw it as a cause for celebration but also a sign to grieve their freedom, the side hobby having been keeping the stern man occupied enough his attention did not stray to their behaviors and deeds too often, much in the same way he existed for him now. 

If Nagamasa was busy fucking into his body every night they had that time away from their superior to do as they wished. He and the sword were each an object of the man’s affection they were vocally grateful for, idly saying as much to him in between kisses, as though their words were enough to drown out the wrongness of it all. 

With the blueprints deemed finalized, they all went inside to his office to watch him seal and stamp his name beside Miyazaki’s as the supervising master. 

Nozomu held him back when they all filed out of the room as dinner was served, grabbing his hand and shoving it down his pants to jerk himself off with his fingers. It took no time at all for him to finish, forcing him to lick them clean before finally letting him anxiously return to the group, worried his absence would be noticed by Nagamasa. 

Dinner was far more extravagant than usual and sat poorly in his stomach, the desire to throw it all up willed away with steady breaths and water. 

After everyone was done, Nagamasa called him and Katsuragi over and into his room with some sweets and sake. He sat across from them with his feet tucked under himself as they chatted for an hour or so. He could never remember having stayed so silent before, even she spoke to him often, perhaps just monitoring his progress and mental capacity but she acknowledged his presence nonetheless. 

He passed on the sake but bit into the indescribably soft mound, sweetness hitting his tongue and he moaned into the bite with an almost imperceptible smile. 

When he looked up again, their drunk-flushed faces were watching him, laughing as though in on a joke he was not privy to. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask, Katsuragi-san, what are your thoughts? This poor dear needs a name, I should think.” Nagamasa chuckled, taking another gulp from the bottle that rested on the short shin-high table in front of them. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long while actually. It’s just so hard to find something that fits her.” 

Nagamasa’s eyes bore into him as he continued eating, inspecting his actions as though a name would come to him with the very sight of his person. 

“Mm, I’m not too sure. I’ve always been partial to something cuter.” Katsuragi looked shy at the admission but it went practically unheard by his Master, who trudged on listing. 

“Yome is beautiful, isn’t it? Or Tsuma…” He guffawed at the scrunched expression on Katsuragi’s face. “I don’t know, I think they’re quite accurate! ” 

Whatever he meant went over his head as he blundered on.

“Mikoshi Tsuma. Ah, it just glides doesn’t it, Katsuragi-san?” The man leaned back on his hands more casual than he’d ever seen him. 

“Mikoshi?” Kasturagi choked out. 

“Of course! She’ll be taking my family name when we wed.”

Katsuragi nodded slowly, his look of displeasure going unnoticed by the drunken man beside them. He met his eyes but averted his gaze quickly, not wanting to give Katsuragi the pleasure of seeing the upset he wasn't sure he could hide at the mention of Nagamasa’s intentions. He untucked his hair to cover his face again, something that had long since become habit. 

“How about Hime?” Katsuragi proposed next, “Her hair?” 

“Ahhh, that’s good, that’s good. She does look like royalty.” He hummed to himself. 

“Hoso or… Hiina ?” Katsuragi breathed out. 

The names fell on deaf ears and they sat in silence for a while as Nagamasa seemed to be nearly falling asleep in his seat. 

When they were done with the various foods, Katsuragi stood, gathering items to pick up while he tidied the area. He grabbed a cushion to place under Nagamasa’s neck where he slept, and then moved to hook the cuff around his wrist back onto the pillar where it belonged. 

He stared at it pensively for a while first, speaking soft words into the air, for his ears only, something so acutely rare within the last month, he hardly realized until he was done. 

“My lord… He just wants to do right by his clan and build something he can be proud of. He lost his mother when he was very young. And… he’s since been ostracized by his only surviving family.” 

He unlocked the cuff and twisted it around the wood, latching it back onto itself before turning and approaching him on the floor. He knelt to his level and pressed forward, his palm resting upon his stomach just above his belly button. 

“I- I’m sure he’d love a daughter like you. Maybe you can name her Chiyo.” He whispered. 

He gulped and stared down at his body, terrified of what the words meant. 

“You’ll look so beautiful, round and soft.” 

He struggled to inhale entirely, little gasps coming in his nose in stuttered breaths. 

Katsuragi leaned forward into his space, pressing their foreheads together, his hand placed on the back of his head tenderly, holding him there, opening his dark eyes that were welled with tears as though, as though he loved him. 

It was such a lie. 

He pressed his mouth to his and held it there a moment, Katsuragi savoring the kiss with bated breath and tense pressure. 

He stood and left without another word, putting out the flame that illuminated the room on his way. He didn’t look back. 

Katsuragi was able to leave the room, while he was sat there distraught and needing to stay silent lest the man still beside him awoke and he not get this single night of reprieve from sex as seemed promised. 

He lay alone on the plush futon, willing himself to fall asleep and dream, as he no longer wanted to be awake and in reality. 

Makoto was beautiful. He knew that already but it was a different experience truly witnessing her. They sat across from one another, and her voice sounded like twinkling bells far more delicate than the familiar ring of the chain he found himself attached to. 

“My dear… I’m so sorry.” She was palpably weighed down but carefree in her expressions as her figure shook, leaning— inappropriately for someone of her status— over the tea set between them, knocking the delicate porcelains to the ground as she took his face in her hands. He watched them fall and break. 

She mirrored Katsuragi, holding his head to her own as she brushed their noses together and played with the tendrils of hair that framed his face. 

“My baby, please take care of yourself.” She spoke as if it were easy. And a bubble of animosity he knew was likely misplaced formed in his chest.

It was just her face , that beautiful face that was their own, that was hers . 

“It will be okay. Eventually. Things will change, I know it. It just might take some time.” Her throat was thick with tears. 

“Please, be patient.” She requested, but he had yet to live, hardly knew what patience was. All the words falling uselessly between them as he would never be able to heed their warnings. 

It would be an eternity before he felt okay again.

The scene vanished into a sea of flower petals and he reached out to grab her, cried her name, but it was of no use.

That was the last time he dreamed. And by consequence, ever saw her. 

He felt nothing but apathy when he awoke. 

The celebrations continued into the next day, and he was moving automatically, eyes glazed over and less than present. His body moved on its own through a ceremonial dance he’d never learned, he and Katsuragi holding the newly finished, shining blade between them, trading back and forth with one of Miyazaki’s creation, crossing them together now and again. 

He moved swiftly, to roarous applause as they danced and the three men cheered, Nagamasa more silently approving, still having his whereabouts about him, not having touched the sake yet that night. 

His legs were sturdy below him, as they needed to be with this sort of performance. He drew the sword across his back and chest, displaying it as an extension of himself, a contradiction of dolled up, painted skin, extravagant and inconvenient patterned clothes, and the form of a fierce capable fighter. He and Katsuragi crossed each other in the open space, he didn’t dare meet his eyes.

He was almost sure, idle thoughts crossing his mind, that if he wanted to do so he could kill them all in one go with the weapon in hand. He didn’t try. 

They christened the blade all together in the evening sunlight, a play on the characters in Mikoshi Nagamasa’s name. An ode to their superior who created it, lovingly crafting the steel with his gloved hands and the island in which it was born, Tatarasuna. 

He had finally made it to the promised end line.

They were intended to be headed off back to Narukami within the week, where Nagamasa’s rolling estate awaited him. One with another room and another bed, and with plenty of space for him to have their children, space that he was still not even certain he’d be allowed to roam himself.

He was laid down that night, swarmed by Nagamasa and Katsuragi together, how he’d been had many times before, the two who fucked into him most often. 

He had no idea why Nagamasa minded everyone but Katsuragi’s presence, relished in it even, petting Katsuragi’s hair while reaching across his body, neglecting to touch him entirely save for where he was seated deep inside. 

He was on his hands and knees with Katsuragi slotted beneath him as Nagamasa took him from behind. His soft stomach pressed against the hardness of Katsuragi’s cock, pulsing for want of friction between them. Nagamasa kissed at his neck as he fucked into his cunt, and he dug his hands into the strands of Katsuragi’s splayed out hair beneath the three of them. He could tell he was close, the hot throb between his legs and the shaking arms propping him up threatening to collapse at any moment. Nagamasa groaned harshly, biting down, sickly warm breaths dampening his skin, darkening bruises that hadn’t even begun to fade. 

For all the attention Nagamasa seemed to desire to lavish Katsuragi in, Katsuragi seemed to only have eyes for him , yanking him tightly flush against his body and touching their noises as his unavoidable cries landed just shy of his lips. He seemed to bask in his presence, forcing his head close with a palm against the back of his choppy hair, fingers tangling in the darkness with a firm grip. 

Everything his body was experiencing felt as though it were happening to someone else, the tightening in his core, as much as it made his temperature rise, felt so much more dull. He was aware of the change but not of what had brought it on, just that as he reached the precipice and orgasmed, he tensed with a silent scream, his head swam, and his hearing became fuzzy, but he never felt the high . 

“Sir, sir, may I?” Katsuragi’s fingers prodded as his opening, as he slipped one in, Nagamasa stilled inside him. 

“You want to— oh, yes . Yes, boy. I think she can handle it.” His mouth gaped with his laugh, and he felt warm drool land somewhere along his back, getting rubbed away by a splayed hand using his body as leverage to push himself back up. 

Katsuragi added another finger, stretching inside him, it twinged with pain as the skin was taut as it could be, and even so, he then added a third. 

He couldn’t even protest, drained from his orgasm as he lay there and let them ruin him. It wasn’t until Nagamasa grabbed Katsuragi’s cock from between them and held it and his own as if they were one that he understood what they planned to do. 

His was empty only for a brief moment, as Katsuragi’s hand left his sex and drew up to his jawline to steady his head and watch his eyelids flutter, and Nagamasa pressed , the two sensitive cock heads slipped inside just at the shallow of him. Nagamasa fed them in further and Katsuragi bucked up suddenly in excitement so they were nestled as deep as they could be with the overcrowding. 

He was so full of it, unable to think or speak around the stretch. It felt like nothing else, not even Miyazaki’s inflicted pain on his rectum, just a fullness and hurt that he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from. 

They never waited for him to be okay before moving, and this was no exception. Katsuragi stayed still but for a few upward rolls every now and again while Nagamasa went right back to his brutal pace, bruising hands upon his hips and he pulled his body back to meet him with a rough slap. 

His eyes slipped closed and he collapsed his weight onto the body beneath him, and if it weren’t for the screams emanating from his lips he was sure they’d assume him to have fallen unconscious with the pain. 

Katsuragi held his face once more and kissed at his lips deeply while he couldn’t refuse, his tongue entering his mouth and pushing at his own, like he was all he ever wanted again and again. It was as unbelievable as ever. 

If this was what awaited him at Nagamasa’s estate he felt nothing but fear at the prospect, because how long would it be before they got bored of this , just as they had waiting their turn to fuck him normally. 

“I couldn’t not be in you a moment longer.” Katsuragi whispered, only for him. 

It did not take long for Nagamasa to finish, having been so close already, and when he spilled all over the other cock nestled inside him it was with a pleased hum and a smack to his ass that resounded throughout the room in satisfaction. 

“What an amazing idea, Katsu-kun. You outdid yourself today.” Nagamasa drew back and plugged his loosened cunt up with his hand, and he watched as Katsuragi began to fuck into him with earnest, using his own spent to ease himself inside.

He laughed at the sight, before suddenly slapping directly on his pussy harshly. 

His eyes shot open and he turned to look back at the man as he whined, but Nagamasa hardly seemed too invested anymore, content to let Katsuragi keep having his fun. 

He was aware of his stumbling as he got half dressed, only able to marginally pay attention as his stomach tightened once more nearing release. 

“I’m going to get a drink, make sure to put her up when you’re done.” He said, though he knew he was probably rushing to gorge himself again at the still ongoing party down the stairs. 

The door shut with a harsh bang and it was near silent after, save for the mostly quiet wetness between his legs as he was fucked into softly, at a pace more sensual than he’d probably ever been done, and his overwhelmed, heaving breaths, loud before Katsuragi kissed them away, desperation palpable. 

He wanted to push him off now that Nagamasa was not here to punish him but didn’t have the energy. 

Katsuragi flipped them over and it was almost like that first time again, as he clung to his back, except there were no tears, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel that upset. 

Katsuragi mouthed up his neck, fucking the come back into him deeper, and then grabbing his wrists beside his head. He was unsure why as he wasn’t even fighting back this time. 

Something in his lack of reciprocation, lack of anything , seemed to set Katsuragi off slowly but surely. He bucked into his faster, as though angry once again, a not at all unfamiliar experience. Katsuragi used his body to outlet, that’s why he knew the man had confused sex for love. 

“Say,” he panted above his lips, “Say your name.” 

He was surprised by the request for a moment before shaking his head. He couldn't. He couldn’t. 

“Niwa Hiina. Say those words. Please ,” Katsuragi groaned aloud. 

“Niwa?” He asked, spasming around his cock, the question squeaking out of his throat. 

“Yes, please , say it.”

“Niwa Hiina!” He cried out. “Niwa Hiina… is that what you want?“ He asked wildly. He was unsure of who it was.

Katsuragi came inside him, one last time, while they were alone and he could without notice. It hardly mattered anyway, he could assume now what the small bump of his waistline represented. 

He kissed down his chest, his ribs, and his belly. He lingered there, kissing it over and over again. He felt the uncomfortable fluttering of his insides at it. 

He seemed to be in a daze, snapping out of it before long with a panic and urgency he hadn’t seen in quite some time from the man. 

He stayed on his back as Katsuragi scrambled up, planning to turn over and curl up before sleeping once more, but he’d be lying if he wasn’t curious of the noises he heard, Katsuragi kneeling on the floor and rummaging through their soiled clothes before he heard a clink as something fell to the ground. 

He padded over on heavy feet and dropped to his knees beside the mattress before grabbing his leg roughly, jolting him from his resting state. 

He sat up and stared silently as Katsuragi took the tiny key he’d not seen in so long and unlocked the cuff around his ankle. He was no longer attached to that god forsaken pillar. 

He panted, fear creeping into his brain at the idea of Nagamasa barging in just then and seeing him loose, “What are you doing?“ He asked flatly. 

“We— we need to get out of here.” Katsuragi replied, as he hauled him up with his hands under his armpits like he were a small child and plopped him onto his feet, one of which felt too light. 

“What?” He breathed out. 

“We’re leaving. Right now. We’ll find somewhere to go. Me and you.”

He began to dress his naked body, uncaring of the filth he had left behind alongside his superior, wrapping his freshly worn clothes around his shoulders and sloppily typing it closed around the middle. He wasn’t even wearing anything underneath. 

“What are you saying? We can’t just leave. You can’t leave.”

This made Katsuragi pause, and he shook his head of whatever thought made him hesitate. “You're right, but I’ll figure it out. Please, just hurry .”

He tied back his tangled hair with a ribbon, before grabbing something of Nagamasa’s that had been discarded on the floor to lean down and wipe between his legs. He slipped on whatever shoes he’d last worn outside over his socks, not wanting a repeat of when he was so alone and scared to walk out in the wilderness without them. 

Katsuragi grabbed his arm like he always did, like he owned him, ushering them out the door quietly. 

They ran through the halls and it almost felt too easy, with a person beside him who knew where he was going, his own mind having gotten to map out the facility over the last month, and the knowledge that everyone was gathered in the center, the rambunctious squeals of hired whores still reverberating through the walls as confirmation. As they neared a door he was almost sure led to the outside, he felt his head spin, and stomach churn with nausea. 

It opened with a quiet creek and then, for the first time, he was free to roam as he pleased.

Katsuragi spun him and grabbed his shoulders whispering urgently, “Go west. There’s a village there. I can— I can meet you soon. Don’t tell anyone who you are. Let’s just hope some poor mother takes pity on you and feeds you in the coming days and then we’ll figure things out from there.”

Why this man, who’d just proven how easily he could have saved him all this time, assumed he wanted anything to do with him again, he would never know, but he kept his mouth shut especially as he was pressed into, lips shoved upon his own one last time. 

The moon reflected in Katsuragi’s eyes and he knew then, he could finally run for his life and freedom, having to ignore all the pains in his body to do so. He would never come back here. 

He nodded at him slowly as he backed up and turned away, and he flew to the beachside, the quiet waves crashing in his ears. He didn’t look back until he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to make out the facility in the darkness. 

That was the last he ever saw of Niwa Katsuragi before his death.