Chapter Text
Bathed in the moonlight, Gorou’s lithe form was intoxicatingly vulnerable, his narrow hips squirming under the pressure that the creature atop him was exerting. The beast took deep, gasping breaths, drinking in the sickly-sweet scent that bled off his skin. It mingled with the smell of fear, blood, and sweat, a combination that drove out any reason from the creature’s mind.
Mine, was its only thought, he’s all mine.
The creature lashed its tail, disturbing the surface of the nearby pool. The heat between its legs was growing unbearable. Gorou’s whimpers reached a fever pitch as long claws caressed the length of his torso, snagging the hem of his pants. The thin fabric gave little resistance, almost as much as Gorou himself.
The creature’s jaws parted, letting the saliva that had pooled in its mouth dribble down onto Gorou’s face. Anticipation boiled in its veins as it stared down at the supple flesh along his exposed collarbone. On its tongue, it could feel the frantic beats of the boy’s heart from the arteries just below the skin.
Perfect. There was no better place.
The creature sunk its teeth deep into Gorou’s shoulder.
————
Kokomi awoke with a start, a dull pounding settling in the back of her skull. Sunlight filtered through the clouded sky, skinny fingers of light reaching into the mouth of the cave she was lying in. She felt hungover, with the curious detail that she didn’t recall drinking any alcohol the night before.
Groaning, Kokomi pulled herself up into an unsteady sitting position, blearily rubbing at her eyes.
“Gorou? Are you alive over there?” she asked meekly, a coy smile on her lips as she turned to look at her general, who was lying on his back a few feet away.
Any hint of a jovial mood was immediately lost when she saw the blood pooled around his head.
“Gorou? Gorou?” Kokomi repeated, scrambling to Gorou’s side. “Gorou, can you hear me?”
She cradled his head in her hands, sticky coagulated blood oozing between her fingers. The cut wasn’t nearly as bad as it appeared at first glance, it seemed the bleeding was mostly superficial. But what was concerning was the bite wound just below his neck, across his collarbone. The skin had already begun to discolor around the edges, turning a sickly greenish hue.
Her mind raced with possibilities. An animal attack? There weren’t any native fauna on Watatsumi island big enough to leave a bite pattern that big.
“Shit,” Kokomi muttered, as the reality of the situation started to sink in.
Gorou needed medical attention, now, that wasn’t a question. But…Kokomi’s eyes drifted down to Gorou, naked below the waist. She began to remember the very reason she and Gorou had snuck out to this cave in the first place.
The moment she had assumed her position as Divine Priestess of Watatsumi island, Kokomi bore the expectations of her people. She was a symbol, as much of an archon in the eyes of the people as the Raiden Shogun. The mantle was heavy, but she didn’t have the luxury of letting it show.
The Divine Priestess was a delicate soul who bore the heart of a lion. She was confident (but not cocky), kind (but not a doormat), and sometimes enigmatic (but definitely not socially inept).
And, most importantly, chaste.
It was nearly two years ago when she and Gorou had come to the decision. Curled up in the warmth of a campfire, bare skin pressed against bare skin, Kokomi had realized this was something they couldn’t have. The Divine Priestess wasn’t to take a lover, especially not her own general.
Not publicly, at least.
Since then, Kokomi had made do with meaningful gazes across the room, and the occasional romantic tryst that had to be over before one of her attendants came to collect her. For the longest, this had been fine, but Gorou’s own unique circumstance began to pose a much bigger problem.
During their time fighting against the Shogun, the stress had rendered Gorou’s heat cycles basically inert, but now that they were in peacetime, his body was assuming its normal rhythm, much to his chagrin. As the only yokai in the resistance forces, Gorou had been able to conceal his omega status from his fellow soldiers, who weren’t familiar enough with non-human biology to even be suspicious. He was fighting his own battle of reputation, working four times as hard to assure men twice his size that he was a worthy general. They certainly didn’t need to know he was a slave to his own biology.
Kokomi brushed a lock of Gorou’s tan colored hair off his face. What was she supposed to say?
Oh you see, General Gorou and I, your pure virginal High Priestess, snuck off to a cave on the other side of Watatsumi island to fuck like rabbits, but then we were suddenly attacked by some kind of beast!
She let out a bitter puff of air from her nose that was almost a laugh. As if.
First things first, Kokomi knew she had to perform some basic field medicine. She was a novice compared to the Resistance’s actual medics, but dressing a wound was a far cry from surgery. She pulled off a scrap of cloth from her dress, wetting it with a splash of water from her vision and dabbing it against the wound on his shoulder.
Once again, she ran a quick visual inventory over her own body- no wounds. The closest thing to an affliction was the exhaustion that clung to her bones, and the pounding headache. Why hadn’t the creature injured Kokomi? Had she fought it off?
It was concerning, to say the very least, to grapple with a gap in her memories. Kokomi was a careful planner, a tactician that analyzed every movement she made. She kept a journal, for Archon’s sake.
She recalled slipping out of the shrine as the sun set, meeting Gorou at the edge of the forest. The way his cheeks had been flushed with a fever born of his yokai blood, how he had melted into Kokomi’s touch the moment they were alone- those memories were crystal clear in her mind.
Soft skin, pink, trembling lips that were wet with a stream of drool, the subtle tremor of his hips when Kokomi’s fingers made contact with him…a warm haze snuck its way over her, a pleasant, drunken cloud that tickled in her stomach. Gorou’s delicate face, framed by a curtain of brown curls, was almost angelic- to see him truly relaxed was only possible when he was unconscious. Like this, he was putty in Kokomi’s hands, beautiful and at her whim.
A low moan from Gorou- of pain, not arousal- snapped her out of the stupor. The sweat that had gathered on her neck and back was sticky and shameful, and the buzz that resonated between her legs traveled up to her gut with a sickening twist.
What the fuck was she doing? Here? And now?
Kokomi broke away from Gorou, taking the moment to smooth her hands across her forehead.
Get ahold of yourself, Kokomi, she thought in the insightful tone that narrated her diary. You’ve got this under control. Once we get back to the shrine, everything will be fine.
Hidden in a small crevice along the cave’s wall was a bag Kokomi had prepared for situations like this (well, perhaps not entirely like this). Inside, there was a change of clothes for both Kokomi and Gorou, along with some basic cosmetics Kokomi could use to make herself look more…presentable. She stuck the lip paint and concealer back into the bag, instead reaching for the neatly folded pair of shorts.
Gorou squirmed under her touch as Kokomi lifted his bare legs, her eyes lingering on the fluid that had dried against his inner thigh. He had referred to the sweet-smelling fluid as slick, a sort of natural lubricant that his kind produced during heat. It had the same texture and thickness as honey, and it was just as sweet when Kokomi had tasted it.
That pang in her stomach made itself known again. Kokomi bit the inside of her cheek as she dabbed between Gorou’s legs, wiping off any evidence of their night together. The pale, pink skin of his entrance puckered at the introduction of the cold cloth, his cock twitching fitfully as she slipped his shorts over his hips and tightened the belt.
She hovered over Gorou for a moment, fixated on his lips. A small cut ran across his bottom lip, staining them with a touch of scarlet.
Kiss him, something urged her.
The taste of copper met her mouth, and Kokomi found herself with her tongue caressing the surface of Gorou’s lips. She yelped in alarm, furiously wiping her mouth to rid herself of the taste.
She was still half asleep, that had to be the reason. Her body and mind was exhausted, leaving her in a fog that led to her moving without thinking.
Kokomi draped Gorou’s arm over her shoulder, lifting him to his feet. Gorou was a slim man, but so was Kokomi- she struggled under the dead weight, barely able to keep standing as she took a trembling step forward.
“Everything’s alright, Gorou,” Kokomi said aloud, more to soothe herself than anything, “I’ve got you, so everything’s gonna be okay.”
—————
The moment Kokomi reached the steps leading up to Sangonomiya Shrine, the strength left her body like a spirit.
“Your Excellency!” The lone guard at the gate cried, rushing forward to catch her as she stumbled.
Kokomi slapped away his hand, the exhaustion sapping at her ability to uphold the Divine Priestess’s gentle mannerisms. “Doctor… Get Doctor Koji!” Kokomi said through panting gasps, “General Gorou has been injured!”
From there, time seemed to be moving in slow motion, but also dizzyingly fast. Soldiers and shrine maidens alike rushed to her side, one of the men managing to peel Gorou from her shoulder. The sudden absence of the warm pressure against her body struck her between the ribs like a knife. She had vague memories of shouting and reaching for Gorou, only to be held back by the frail arms of her shrine maidens. Kokomi gave into the tide of frantic voices, allowing herself to be escorted into the sliding doors of the shrine.
The sight of Gorou strewn across a stretcher made Kokomi uneasy. Those stretchers, flimsy things made from the shrine’s linens suspended between two rods, had been frequent guests on the battlefield. Barely a year ago, those things haunted her, cold specters that only served to deliver the dead and dying. The white linen never stayed white for too long- even after so many washes, the bloodstains persisted, a reminder of what that stretcher had bore witness to. Kokomi had to remind herself that the war was over, that she wouldn’t have to worry about her General being cut down by a samurai’s sword or an archer’s arrow.
Doctor Koji met them at the door to the infirmary, rolling Gorou’s head to the side to properly examine his shoulder.
“Do we know what did this?”
All eyes jumped to Kokomi. Even through the panic, the rational side of her recited the story she had decided upon on the way to the Shrine. “I don’t know. General Gorou asked me to accompany him on his patrol last night. Something must have ambushed us along the way, because by the time I came to, the creature was already gone and Gorou was like this.”
“Those bite marks look similar to whatever attacked Hirohiko’s boy a few nights ago,” one of Koji’s assistants piped up, the concern wrought on his face. Kokomi released a fraction of a pent up breath as the attention was directed away from her.
“Dammit, I worked all night on that kid. Tohru, start preparing the antibiotics,” Koji muttered, tying a fresh apron around his waist. He turned to the soldiers gathered at the door, “-and one of you help me move him onto a bed.”
Gorou looked so frail as Koji supported him by the small of his back, as another man lifted his legs. The transition from stretcher to bed was seamless, in theory, but something twisted in Kokomi’s gut in frustration. Why was Koji asking for one of Gorou’s subordinates for help? Kokomi had been the one to carry him up to the shrine, she should be the one helping to attend to his wounds.
She flinched when a soft hand squeezed her shoulder, the smell of sweet floral perfume falling on her nose. “Lady Kokomi,” Izumi’s gentle voice breaking Kokomi from her thoughts. “You are needed at the tribunal.”
Morning tribunal? Fuck the morning tribunal! Gorou, her Gorou, was bleeding out on a hospital bed, and this bitch wanted to pull her away for the morning tribunal?
It wasn’t until she felt the prick of her nails piercing her palms that Kokomi realized she had been clenching her fists. A wash of cold shame dumped over her head like a bucket of water, and she blinked. What was she doing? Izumi was one of her most faithful and responsible attendants, Kokomi had no reason to be angry with her. The Divine Priestess had no reason to be angry with her.
“Right,” Kokomi squeezed the words out like they were stuck in her throat, “Of course. Forgive me, I’m a bit out of sorts this morning.” She discreetly smeared the droplet of blood that had welled up into her palm on the inside of her sleeve.
She was tired. That was it. She was exhausted, and that was making her more volatile. What she needed was a relaxing bath, some food, and a long nap.
Izumi’s arms draped around her as she gently guided Kokomi to the door. “There is no need to explain yourself, Your Excellency. Allow me to help you freshen up.”
Freshen up. Of course, Kokomi thought, grimacing as Izumi plucked a leaf from her long locks of pink hair. It was bad enough that she had slept outside, but it was worse that she looked like it.
She stole one last glance at Gorou, strewn across the bed like a discarded doll. Koji and his assistants were hard at work, and the sight of the man penetrating Gorou’s delicate skin with a needle made her stomach do flips.
I’ll be back soon, she thought, swallowing down a bitter taste that washed into her mouth. Just hang in there for me.
A rust colored cloud circled the drain as Kokomi mechanically rotated her hands under the flow of water. Gorou’s blood clung bitterly to her hands, and then to the sides of the clamshell shaped sink.
Kokomi’s eyes drifted with hesitancy to the mirror. She looked like shit- that was hard to deny. Without the pleasant cover of her concealer or blush, her face was pale and the dark circles beneath her eyes were prominent. She regarded the ghastly face in the mirror as something to be conquered, a beast that could-should- be slain.
Izumi’s hand brushed against her cheek, guiding a makeup brush that tickled the skin. Over the years, one thing had become clear to Kokomi: looking the part was just as important to her position as her actual duties, if not more. The Divine Priestess was required to straddle a perilous tightrope, to uphold an image of soft, feminine beauty without actually appearing that she was trying to be attractive.
And for the most part, she was successful. Kokomi was well aware of the excited whispers from not only her soldiers, but also her shrine maidens when they believed she was no longer in earshot.
Kokomi didn’t quite see the appeal. Even looking past the wrinkles that stress had carved into her face (that the concealer filled in with all the grace of a mason smattering in mortar), her physical appearance was…lacking. Her skinny arms led to frail wrists, which supported flimsy, tactless hands. She lacked the powerful presence that many of her soldiers enjoyed, the ability to loom over a foe and be perfectly confident in your ability to take them down.
Kokomi pursed her lips to allow Izumi to apply a coat of pale gloss. The paint smoothed over the skin on her lips, almost completely obscuring the spot Kokomi had taken to chewing absentmindedly on.
Morning Tribunal was held in one of the Shrine’s smaller audience halls, nestled in the upper right corner of the building. Wooden floorboards creaked to announce Kokomi’s presence as she approached the open door, now flocked by a gaggle of Shrine Maidens.
“I apologize for my tardiness.”
A meaningless statement. Kokomi was neither sorry for her tardiness, nor did the village elders have the backbone to criticize her for it. Regardless, Kokomi had relayed the lines that were expected of her, and took a seat beside Bourou village’s head elder, Komaki. The old woman regarded her with a warm nod.
Sunlight spilled in from the window nearby, the hardwood floors taking on streaks of warm caramel hues. Mid-mornings on Watasumi Island were particularly miserable during the summer, when the heavy morning dew went head to head with the sun climbing to it’s peak. It made the air unbearably heavy, and that humidity seemed to have permeated the interior of the shrine as well. Kokomi felt a bead of sweat travel across the small of her back.
“Your Excellency,” Komaki began as all eyes turned to Kokomi, “We were informed of the incident that befell you and the General this morning. We pray that Lord Orobashi keeps the both of you under his protective gaze, and he sees your injuries made whole.”
“That was what I wished to discuss this morning. It was brought to my attention that this wasn’t the first time an incident of this nature has occurred, and a boy from Bourou village had been attacked under similar circumstances.”
A blanket of dread fell of Komaki as she exchanged quick glances with the other men at the table.
“Ah…Hirohiko’s boy. It had begun with chickens being attacked in their coops- quite the gruesome scene it was, but we chalked it up to a particularly bold fox. Tamaki took it upon himself to guard the remaining birds during the night. One night Hirohiko was woken up by a racket coming from the coop, and he found the chickens dead and his son barely clinging to life. It was a miracle Koji was able to save him.”
“Was…was Tamaki able to identify what attacked him?”
Komaki closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh. “I questioned him thoroughly. He said it was too dark and he wasn’t able to get a good look at it- but he was sure it was an animal that wasn’t native to the island.”
There was that frustration again, wriggling inside Kokomi’s chest like a worm. She was certain that her face twisted with anger this time, she could feel the makeup around her eyes cracking. “Why were General Gorou or I not informed of this earlier?”
Somber, wise eyes met Kokomi’s gaze. This was the Komaki she was most familiar with, the old woman that had raised her with a firm but gentle hand. “I didn’t wish to trouble you with it, Your Excellency. You’ve had more than enough on your plate with planning the summit with the Shogun. I wished to further investigate the matter myself before I brought it to your attention.”
It was maddening, really. Despite the way Komaki dipped her head in reverence when she spoke, she still saw Kokomi as nothing more than a child that needed to be coddled.
“The matter is under my jurisdiction now,” Kokomi murmured, unconsciously puffing out her chest to appear bigger. “I intend to capture the beast that attacked the General and I before the Shogun’s forces arrive.”
Even saying the words felt nauseating. Just six months ago, the idea of the Shogun herself arriving on Watasumi Island with an entourage of soldiers would have been the worst case scenario. But now, they certainly lived in interesting times, times that brought the Shogun to make a visit to the island out of goodwill.
Kokomi had almost laughed in the face of the nervous messenger the Shogunate had sent to the doorstep of Watasumi Shrine, the former stronghold of the Resistance. The boy had seemed almost as equally perplexed as he delivered the proposition: the Raiden Shogun wished to not only organize a joint training session between their respective armies, but requested an audience with the Divine Priestess, in order to begin to repair the relationship between mainland Inazuma and Watasumi Island.
Kokomi hadn’t quite wrestled the full story from Lumine of just what the fuck transpired in Inazuma city the day the Sakoku Decree had been repealed, but Kokomi was nursing her own pet theory that The Raiden Shogun had been replaced by an identical twin that wasn’t a tyrannical bitch.
Regardless, the request had been in earnest, and Kokomi was responsible for arranging a meeting between the two parties that wouldn’t result in a mass casualty event, or a smoking crater where Watasumi Shrine had once been. Sometimes it felt like peacetime carried more strife than war ever did.
As much as her people wished for Watasumi to remain it’s own, independent sovereign entity, some degree of reliance on the mainland was becoming more and more necessary. It was one thing for the island to have operated on scraps while it was at war, but if Watasumi Island wanted to cement itself as a proper nation state, they were going to need to start importing necessities from their neighbors. The unique composition of the soil meant that farmers were limited for their variety of crops, and the unstable terrain made any livestock besides chickens and ducks impossible. Not even to mention the rich veins of metal ore and coal that the mainland boasted, that they sorely lacked. Fostering a relationship with the mainland was the best way forward.
“With flu season upon us-”
“-Sango Pearls are clearly our most valuable export-”
Kokomi struggled to keep her back straight and shoulders erect as the conversation around her began to drag on. Komaki was talking about something, which the man at Kokomi’s left had many thoughts to share about. The words bobbed along the surface of her consciousness like a buoy on the shore, becoming more and more distant as she became aware of a particularly loud cicada chirping by the window.
Gods, she hated cicadas.
She wrestled her hands under the table, sticky palms sliding against each other with an aggravating amount of friction.
The smell of sweat and touch of damp skin caused her mind to wander. She was dragged back to Gorou, alone in that infirmary, the flush of pain and delirium twisting his face into an almost orgasmic state. She thought about the way he lay prone on his back, every inch of his soft, supple torso exposed to the open air. He probably didn’t have the strength to move, nonetheless defend himself.
Something stirred in her belly as she considered Koji, who was by his side instead of her. The way Koji had guided Gorou onto the cot, sliding a hand across the gentle curve of his hips and back, touching the same delicate stretches of skin that Kokomi had caressed the night before.
Who’s to say he wasn’t tracing the pale pink circles of dimpled flesh around his nipples? She could almost feel the way they would stiffen under the slightest touch, desperate for the slightest bit of stimulation. Koji had Gorou all to himself, just the thought of it made her sick.
Koji’s hands were rough and lacked elegance, that bastard didn’t know how Gorou wanted- no, needed- to be touched, how one had to start slowly along the base of his neck and then cup his breast, all while traveling up his inner thigh with the palm of her hand, and then-
“…”
-and then the way his lips would part somewhere between a moan and a sigh as Kokomi drank in the sweet smell of his arousal-
“Your Excellency? What is your decision?”
Kokomi let out a dry gasp as she was shaken from her thoughts, the back of her neck thoroughly soaked in a fresh coat of sweat. Her mind raced as she struggled to place herself in the conversation. Gods, what were they even talking about?
“M-my decision-” Her tongue has turned into an obstacle, dry and obstinate as her words fumbled by it.
“Your decision whether or not the Saisho No Hana Festival’s recital should be held in the shrine’s main hall,” Komaki offered helpfully.
“Ah, right. That-that will be fine.”
Was she losing her mind?
No, Kokomi reminded herself. Her body was tired, and her mind was following suit.
When had it gotten so fucking hot in here?
The remainder of Morning Tribunal (which stretched into the Afternoon Tribunal) passed with Kokomi as a mere spectator, the other elders having finally taken the hint that she wasn’t in the mood to talk further. The buzzing in her skull persisted as Kokomi made a beeline for the door, only for her path to be blocked by Komaki, who lingered on the threshold after the other elders had already left the room.
“Your Ex-” Komaki shook her head, “-no, Kokomi—is everything alright? You look pale.”
The blush was supposed to fix that problem, Kokomi cursed to herself. She wrestled with the corners of her mouth to drag them into a pleasant smile to put Komaki at ease. “There’s no need to worry about me, I’m just a bit tired.”
Tired. She was tired, that was all.
Komaki’s expression shifted only enough to deepen the crow’s feet around her eyes. A knowing look- the woman had a way of making Kokomi feel like she was seven years old again, lying about eating the last rice cake.
“It’s been quite some time since we’ve shared tea together. I’d be happy to treat you to some whenever you feel like you need a break. You’ve been so busy lately, I don’t want you to get overwhelmed by your duties. I would be happy to help you lighten your load.”
Kokomi’s eye twitched in naked frustration. This, again? Kokomi was a grown-ass woman, not a feeble little girl that would crumble under the weight of her responsibilities. She had led Watasumi Island through war, and now Komaki believed some simple diplomacy was too much for her?
It was a frustrating reminder that she was getting sloppy. With the threat of the Shogun no longer looming over her, the Divine Priestess was allowing glimpses of the ugly face beneath the mask peek through.
She needed to get a grip.
“I apologize, but I must be leaving. Izumi is already preparing my meal,” Kokomi said with a curt bow, brushing off Komaki’s familiarity with a shield of formality.
“…Of course, Your Excellency. Please take care of yourself.”
Kokomi’s dinner was tasteless, the chunks of tofu swimming in her bowl more akin to wet sponges in her mouth than anything remotely appetizing. It took everything she had to force down a few bites while Izumi was watching. She wondered if Gorou had been fed yet.
Or if he was in any condition to eat.
Kokomi took the opportunity to discreetly trash the rest of her meal when Izumi wandered off to speak to another shrine maiden. She murmured a few compliments to the chef as she walked past the kitchen, the small amount of food settling in her stomach like lumps of heavy clay.
Kokomi marched down the hallway with the air of dignity and authority only the Divine Priestess was allowed to wield. The infirmary felt like it was miles away. She spared a nervous glance out the window, noting the position of the sun. Gods, when had she let so much time pass? How could she have left her General alone for that long?
The smell hit Kokomi before she even reached the door- a nauseatingly sweet aroma that made saliva pool in her mouth.
Gorou was still in heat.
“Gorou?” Kokomi asked as he pushed her way into the infirmary, “Gorou, are you okay?”
She found Koji at Gorou’s bedside, dabbing a wet cloth to his forehead. Gorou was looking the worse for wear, his face a sickly grey and soaked with sweat. A blanket was pulled over his naked chest, stopping short of the bandaged wound on the crook of his neck.
Koji rose to meet her, resting his hand on Gorou’s forehead. Kokomi struggled not to grimace at his casual touch. “Your Excellency, you’ve returned.”
Kokomi didn’t have the patience for greetings. “How is the general?” Judging by the soft whimpers coming from the boy, Kokomi was afraid she knew the answer.
Koji knitted his brow as he dipped the cloth in the basin, squeezing out the excess water. “I’ve closed the wound, but his fever has only gotten worse. He’s not responding to any of the medicines I’ve given him.”
Because it’s not a normal fever, Kokomi remarked to herself. That sweet, sweet smell had permeated the entire room, making the air thick and overwhelming. How could Koji not smell it?
Kokomi approached Gorou’s bedside, keeping her mouth closed with a tight seal- it was all she could handle to take short breaths from her nose, anything deeper and she would…well, she wasn’t actually sure what would happen. Vomit, probably, from the excess of saliva in her mouth. Maybe that’s what the twisting in her gut was indicating too.
The burning between her thighs was an outlier.
Gorou stirred as Kokomi came closer, a sliver of his hazy blue eyes peeking from under heavy eyelids. “….komi…” he slurred as he rolled his head towards Kokomi, his voice barely breaking above a whisper.
“He hasn’t been lucid since you brought him back.” Koji shook his head, the dark circles under his eyes growing more pronounced. “Did he say anything to you, when you first woke up?”
Kokomi squeezed Gorou’s hand, turning her back to Koji. “When I woke up, he was already unconscious. I can’t remember anything from the night before.”
As the words left her mouth, images flashed in her head. Their shadows cast on the wall of their secret meeting place by the campfire, naked skin on skin, their reflections captured in the small pool of water. Gorou’s back pressed against the rocks, a crown of scarlet blossoming around his head. The smell of blood, and sex.
“The attack on Hirohiko’s boy had been so violent…if this really was the same creature, you were lucky to have escaped without a scratch. I suppose you have General Gorou to thank.”
Gorou had been protecting her- yes, that sounded right. That’s what he had always done.
“You said you two were on a patrol last night, right?” Koji asked as he polished the silver tip of one of his medical utensils. “Where were the other soldiers? I thought they normally did patrols in groups of four.”
Shit. Kokomi knew she couldn’t hold up to this kind of questioning, with the way her head was already buzzing. What was her best course of action here? If she invoked her authority as Divine Priestess to shut him down, she would only come off as more suspicious…
…Suspicious? What was she talking about? She hadn’t done anything wrong- she was telling the truth, with a few unfortunate details omitted.
But why did she feel so guilty?
“You see, Gorou had said-”
As if Orobashi himself had decided to intervene, the door to the infirmary was thrown open, a pale faced man bursting into the room.
“Doctor Koji! It’s Saki, she’s gone into labor!”
Petulant questioning was over. Koji was on his feet, frowning. “Already? It’s much too soon!” He spun back around to Gorou and Kokomi, dragging a hand through his hair, “I can’t- my other patient-”
“It’s alright, Doctor Koji. Saki needs you more than anyone right now. Gorou is stable, I can watch over him until you return,” Kokomi said.
There was the Divine Priestess- a generous, altruistic figure that would step in to make the lives of her subjects easier.
It certainly wasn’t because she wanted him to hurry up and get his fucking hands away from Gorou.
“I-” Koji wanted to argue. Kokomi’s big round eyes left no room to argue. “…If you insist, Your Excellency. Please send word to me if his condition worsens. Bringing down his fever is your most important objective right now.”
The moment the door shut behind Koji, Kokomi let out a sigh of relief, one she didn’t realize she was holding in. Flopping back into the chair beside the cot, she studied Gorou’s face. His restless mumbling had settled into low, trailing moans as he squirmed under the covers, leaning into Kokomi’s touch.
Like this, her general was as helpless as a newborn fawn, barely able to even hold up his head. As much as it disturbed her to see Gorou rendered so weak, she couldn’t help but feel…something else bubbling inside as she stared down at his body, limp and perfectly pliable.
Gorou’s hand reached forward, weakly pawing the air, beckoning Kokomi closer. Concerned, she slid onto the edge of the bed, bracing a hand on the headboard as she leaned down to hear the words Gorou was attempting to form.
“…’lease…” Gorou muttered, the smell of his heat only becoming more intense. Beneath the covers, he squirmed, pushing the lower half of his body closer to Kokomi.
Blood rushed to Kokomi’s cheeks when she realized what Gorou was asking for- of course that’s what he was asking for. A thin membrane of fabric separated her hand from Gorou’s quivering cock, hot and frustrated to the touch, as Gorou let out a low moan.
The bed creaked as Kokomi moved slowly, carefully, keeping her eyes focused on Gorou’s face. He fit perfectly between her legs, arms akimbo as Kokomi positioned him as she pleased. Her nose explored the nape of his neck, drinking in the intoxicating scent.
The buzzing in her stomach crept from her ears and down into her groin. The bloody bandages and surgical tools of the infirmary faded into the static- they were in the cave again. Alone, safe. She had Gorou all to herself, prone under her own body, body heat bleeding into each other.
Mine, Kokomi-or no, maybe not, maybe it was something more primal than that- thought. He’s all mine.
A pained whimper broke Kokomi from her trance. Her lips were still on Gorou’s neck, except she was pressing a kiss into the mass of bandages on his shoulder. The squirming under her had become frenzied, the flailings of a dying animal.
“Oh- Oh Archons, Gorou, I’m sorry!” Kokomi cried, immediately withdrawing, retreating back to her chaste seat at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, are you alright?”
What was she doing? They were in an infirmary, for fuck’s sake. Gorou was barely lucid enough to speak, let alone consent to sex. His body needed to heal, no matter how much he thought he needed to fuck.
Fuck, she was so tired. Kokomi hadn’t realized how much she had been drained, from the scare this morning to the normal proceedings of the day. She stifled a yawn as she glanced at the clock on the wall (of course there was a clock, they were at the Shrine)- the numbers blended together, but she had enough sense to know it was late.
Sex was off the table (of course, Kokomi reiterated to herself), but Gorou still needed some kind of comfort. He found solace in touch, and Kokomi couldn’t bring herself to deny that from him.
The infirmary cot looked more comfortable with every passing second, urging Kokomi to stretch out on top of the sheets. Lying on her side, Kokomi’s body formed a protective wedge between Gorou and the door. She found his hand under the covers, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
“Everything is ok now. I’m here with you.”
~~~~
Her teeth grazed against soft skin, tongue teasing warm flesh. Pinned between her legs, her mate lay limp like prey, sweet and helpless.
He’s mine. I need him.
Kokomi’s eyes snapped open, cold sweat plastering the folds of her white gown to her legs. The lights inside the infirmary had been extinguished, leaving only the moonlight creeping through the cracked window, coasting on the cool summer air filtering in. Gorou lay beside her, his face twisted in discomfort as he drew his legs closer to his chest.
Kokomi was only allowed a moment of peace to study his face, before a spasming in her gut took the breath out of her lungs. Clutching her middle, she fell out of the cot, stumbling to the restroom in the corner of the infirmary. Her knees gave out at the threshold, forcing her to crawl the remaining distance. Kokomi draped herself over the bowl of the toilet, only acrid tasting spittle dribbling down from her parted lips.
In rhythm with the frantic beating of her heart, pain worked its way through her body, something cold and foul stretching out like roots taking hold. The nausea subsided, only for the sensation to migrate further down, the same miserable urgency gripping her groin.
Kokomi let out a breathless gasp as the gentle hug of her panties became like sandpaper against her vulva. Lying on her side, cheek pressed against the cool tile of the bathroom floor, Kokomi pawed blindly under her dress. Her panties slipped down past her thighs, but it did nothing to alleviate the agony.
She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. A halo of pain tinged her field of vision.
Her fingers met the source of her misery- where the soft folds of her labia had been, the skin had hardened, tiny chips of fingernail-like material poking through. Another white-hot shudder spasmed through her groin. And then, she felt the tip of something breeching the entrance of her vulva.
Before Gorou, sex had never been something Kokomi particularly craved. The idea of being penetrated made Kokomi squirm- even when pleasuring herself she couldn’t bring herself to do more than massaging her cunt with her fingers. There was an invisible wall just on the other side of her entrance, a line that couldn’t be crossed, lest it be a violation.
During his heats, Gorou only wanted to receive, which Kokomi was more than happy to oblige- with her own hands, or any nearby instruments that fit the part. Anything but the alternative.
But this…thing was no outside force, it was coming from inside her, pushing out from the scale-like skin that had formed around her vulva.
The spring that had been wound up so tightly in her body suddenly released with the exhaustion of her pelvic muscles, and Kokomi waited to hear the wet shlap of whatever just came out of her to hit the floor.
It didn’t.
Instead, she felt an unfamiliar weight between her legs, something warm touching her inner thigh. She stumbled back into the vanity, catching a glimpse of something in the mirror that made her heart skip a beat.
Staring back at her in the mirror was something Kokomi didn’t recognize immediately as herself. The same jagged growths had broken the skin around her eyes and along her cheekbones, twisting her features into something grotesque. The teeth exposed from her gaping mouth were no longer human- instead, fangs had forced their way through her gums, crowded rows of teeth covered in a strand of drool.
She brought her hands to her face, just to confirm what the hell she was seeing. Sharp nails prodded her cheeks, her manicured nails now appearing more like talons. The scales were cold to the touch, like chips of smooth glass.
I’m dreaming, Kokomi thought, as she watched the thing in the mirror, this is some kind of fucked-up fever dream. I hit my head and I’m hallucinating. Maybe I should have let Koji check me over.
“‘komi…”
A low voice cut through Kokomi’s panic, followed by the sound of rustling bedsheets and the creaking of a mattress.
“Gorou?” she said, pushing off the counter and taking clumsy steps back into the infirmary.
A weak groan answered her. Gorou was half out of bed, twisted white sheets around his legs keeping him from falling onto the floor. Kokomi rushed to his side, pulling him back onto the safety of the bed, supine.
“Gorou? Gorou, can you hear me?” Kokomi said as she propped his head back onto the pillow, “Are you alright?”
That was a particularly senseless question- the moment Kokomi placed her hands on Gorou, she could feel that his fever had only continued to climb overnight. Cloudy, unfocused eyes had trouble following Kokomi as she hovered above him, squeezing his hand.
Her mind raced as she tried to recall every bit of first aid she had learned over the years. A cold bath, perhaps? She recalled Koji using the fountain outside of the shrine as an impromptu bath during a flu outbreak…or, no, was it for poison ivy?
Water! Whether he needed a bath or not, Gorou had to be dehydrated, judging by the concerning puddle of sweat that had soaked into the mattress below them. She fumbled for her vision on the nightstand, only to remember she had left it in her chambers, while Izumi was getting her dressed.
Gorou’s hand shot out as Kokomi attempted to stand, wrapping around her wrist in a surprisingly firm grip in his weakened state.
“Don’t go,” he murmured, a manic desperation crawling into his voice, “I need you.”
The hair on the back of Kokomi’s neck prickled at the words, traveling along the arm Gorou held, turning it to jelly. She allowed herself to be tugged forward, easing her body further when it was clear Gorou didn’t have the strength to move her anymore. The indignation she had felt at herself earlier had been smothered by a growing desire in her belly.
Poised on top of Gorou, Kokomi began to tremble, her newly sharpened nails snagging the bedsheets beneath them. She shoveled in gasps of air through parted lips like a panting dog, Gorou’s sweet smell laying heavy on her tongue. Something wet dribbled down her chin. Was she drooling?
Gorou kicked aside the blanket that had been preserving his modesty, exposing his hole, already oozing with slick, to Kokomi. He traced his fingers along the entrance, as if in invitation.
The sight alone made Kokomi seize up, her thoughts growing more and more muddy as she felt another part of herself grasping for control. She wondered how good it would feel to just let go- to stop fighting, and let it wrap herself in its warm embrace.
You know exactly what he needs, that voice said in the back of her mind, from the depths. Give it to him.
That thing didn’t care about her role as Divine Priestess, chastity, shame, or any of that bullshit. Only one thing mattered: what she wanted.
Kokomi’s kisses became more frenzied as she traveled down the length of Gorou’s face and neck, sucking at the soft skin like it was her last meal. Her breath was warm against the gentle dip of his collarbone. Beneath the wads of bandages, she could smell festering blood, undercut with the scent of something more familiar.
The bandages came loose with little persuasion from the tips of her now-sharp teeth, exposing the wound to the open air. Kokomi felt Gorou’s hand rest on her lower back, urging her forward with a low moan. Sticky blood reciprocated her kiss as she hooked her tongue through one of his stitches, snapping the thread with a nip that edged dangerously close to the tender flesh.
Hunched over Gorou, blood sweet like honey flooding into her mouth as she teased her tongue inside the wound, Kokomi was struck with a sense of déjà vu. In her hazy recollection of the night before, the image of Gorou below her became clearer, a spitting image of what she saw now.
Make him yours, the voice urged.
The throbbing between her legs was deafening. She shuddered as the hard scales lining her cunt parted, making way for the flushed tip of the appendage hidden within.
For a brief moment, she balked, clenching her pelvic muscles in a futile attempt to stop the thing from escaping her body. As the full weight of it hung between her legs, Kokomi met Gorou’s eyes with her heart constricted in her throat.
“Kokomi…” he said, breathless. His expression, normally locked tight under his relentless air of professionalism and dignity, had been consumed by pure hunger. Pinprick pupils swam over bloodshot sclera as he drank in the sight before him, the mania flushing his cheeks dark red. “Give it to me. Please.”
The presence in the back of her mind, warm and oozing as it traveled to the tips of her fingers and along her spine, was becoming longer to ignore. Her body responded to Gorou’s pleas, the cock between her legs (her cock, Kokomi reminded herself) dribbling milky fluid down onto Gorou’s stomach.
Warmth enveloped Kokomi as the newfound confidence surged through her blood like electro energy. She lowered her hips, pressing skin to skin as she pulled Gorou into another desperate kiss.
She fit so perfectly inside Gorou, his soft flesh massaging Kokomi deeper in. In the past, the slick had felt good on her fingers, but it was nothing compared to what she felt now.
Instinct took over, guiding her with each thrust of her hips. Gorou buckled under each wave of pressure, the puny springs of the infirmary cot whining as she drove him further into the mattress.
Harder, it whispered in her ear, as she worked herself into a rhythm. Something shifted down from her gut, heat flooding to the tip of her cock. Kokomi saw stars as a furious twitch wracked her body. Oh Archons, was this it? Was she cumming?
Blinded by her own pleasure, she lunged forward, sinking her teeth into the wound on Gorou’s shoulder to muffle her own screams.
Every inch of his body, Kokomi thought, as her own fluids erupted inside Gorou, it’s mine.
It’s all mine.
————
The first traces of daylight crept across the windowsill, pooling at the foot of the infirmary cot. Kokomi squeezed an eye open, finding her field of vision obscured by the top of Gorou’s head. The two were tangled around each other like a pair of serpents, bare skin pressed against bare skin, the thin blanket the infirmary had provided trapped in the crosshairs.
Her mouth was dry, a foul taste lingering in the back of her throat as she wet her lips with her tongue. Brief flashes of the night before played in her mind, unconsciously directing her fingers to venture between her legs. The hard scales lining her vulva met her touch, but the cock she had so vividly remembered using was nowhere to be found. There was a certain emptiness when she squeezed her thighs together, feeling nothing but the flesh of her pubic mound compressing.
For a moment, she tried to hang onto the thought that nothing had actually changed, that the whole thing had just been an elaborate, sexually-charged dream, but the sticky mess of fluids congealing on the bedsheets below her left nothing to the imagination.
Kokomi wanted to panic. But the Divine Priestess did not panic. The Divine Priestess kept a cool head no matter the situation. She solved problems, mediated conflicts, and most importantly, cleaned up messes.
She surveyed the room. Gorou was fast asleep. Koji’s desk was untouched from how he had left it the night before, and the door remained undisturbed. The doctor clearly hadn’t returned from the village yet.
Good. That meant she still had time.
Kokomi peeled herself from Gorou as gently as possible, grimacing at the residue of cum that had dried on his inner thigh. She lifted him from the bed, softly depositing him on a nearby chair. Her lover only grunted in response, twitching his nose in irritation. Her eyes lingered on Gorou’s shoulder, where what she feared would be a festering, disgusting wound had…healed significantly during the night. The skin was still pink and raw, but far from the nightmare she had remembered inflicting on him with her own teeth.
She moved onto the most significant evidence: the bedsheets. The soiled white linen lifted easily from the thin mattress, with only a few splotches of blood having soaked down into it. There was no point in trying to remove the stain from the mattress. Besides, this was an infirmary- a little blood wasn’t unthinkable in this setting. Kokomi wrapped the sheets in a tight bundle, ensuring all the offending material was located in the center, and placed it in the laundry hamper.
The fresh sheets spread the smell of lilac and Naku weed as Kokomi tugged them over the corners of the mattress, providing a soft cushion for her to carry Gorou back to. Strewn against the crisp white, he looked delicate and fragile, and Kokomi couldn’t keep herself from planting a kiss atop the newly applied bandages on his shoulder.
Stepping into the bathroom, Kokomi made nervous eye contact with her own visage. She looked exactly as haggard as she feared, prominent circles under her eyes and rust colored blood stains around her mouth. On the bright side, the scales on her arms and face she had witnessed the night before seemed to have vanished, and she was thankful enough for that. She normally enjoyed a more complex skin care routine, but for now, water would have to do. It was enough to shake her out of the fog, at least enough to allow her to see straight. Kokomi plucked her discarded panties from the floor, slipping them over the last piece of evidence she wasn’t able to be rid of.
“Ah, my apologies, Your Excellency, I didn’t realize you were still here.” As if on cue, Koji stood in the doorway, a hand clumsily thrown over eyes in an attempt to preserve her modesty.
Kokomi offered a mild chuckle, patting the remaining water off her face and neck. “You’re fine, Doctor. I just had to clean up a little. Gorou got sick early this morning.”
Koji knitted his brow, walking with Kokomi to Gorou’s bedside. “I see. Then I apologize for my absence last night. I should have sent an attendant to assist you.” He laid a hand on his forehead. “At the very least, it seems that his fever finally broke. He could still take a turn for the worse, but your general is quite strong, My Lady.”
Kokomi couldn’t suppress the smile that came to her lips. That was right- her general, her Gorou.