The throne room fell into an uneasy silence. Takahashi Jin stood small and trembling on the vast obsidian floor, surrounded by shadows that slithered up gargantuan pillars. High above, golden braziers cast flickering light across walls carved with otherworldly reliefs—twisted faces of demons and gods that seemed to shift in the corner of his eye. At the far end of the hall, Tachibana Reika lounged upon a massive dais of black marble as if it were a casual throne. One long leg was crossed over the other, and the toe of her sandal tapped idly against the stone armrest. Tap… tap… tap. The soft, deliberate rhythm echoed through the chamber like the slow ticking of a countdown. Jin swallowed and kept still. Every slight movement of hers drew his eye—the way the silk of her black furisode kimono (edged in glittering gold trim) draped off her form, the way her free foot flexed and pointed slightly with each tap, causing the fabric to slide and reveal a pale ankle. She looked comfortable, almost bored, yet danger coiled beneath her relaxed pose. Her presence dominated the hall as completely as the silence did.

Without lifting her gaze, Reika broke the stillness. “I am exhausted,” she declared, voice rich and echoing in the cavernous throne room. There was a throaty, theatrical lilt to her tone that made it impossible to tell if she was truly tired or simply toying with him again. Jin’s heart thudded. He didn’t dare respond; he wasn’t even sure if she expected a reply.

From where he stood, Jin could barely see her eyes under the fall of her damp-black hair, but he caught the slight curve of her lips. It was that strange smile of hers—half amused, half something dangerous. It sent a cold prickling down his neck. He had seen that smile moments before she had slaughtered an army, and also moments before she’d gently stroked his cheek in mock comfort. Unpredictable. Deadly. Beautiful.

Reika let out a soft sigh that drifted into a low chuckle. “I think I’d like to relax for a bit,” she continued lightly. “Perhaps a soak in the onsen.” Her purple eyes flicked toward Jin, pinning him in place. “And you’re coming with me.”

Jin’s breath caught. The onsen? With her? He opened his mouth to protest—he wasn’t sure what he would even say, only that following this towering goddess into a hot spring felt like stepping off a precipice. But he never got the chance to form words.

In a blur of motion, Reika’s figure shifted. Before he could even flinch, her hand descended from the throne. Long, elegant fingers—nails lacquered in shimmering black—uncurled and wrapped around Jin’s body. Warmth instantly enveloped him. Her skin was hot from recent battle and the flush of excitement; it radiated through the thin fabric of his clothes. The fingers closed with a gentle finality, a living cage of ivory trapping his arms at his sides. Jin let out a small gasp as he was lifted off the ground as easily as a doll. Reflexively, he grasped at her thumb for balance, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the subtle pulse of power beneath it.

Reika stood, and the motion was dizzying. As she rose to her full height, the air pressure in the room seemed to change—Jin’s ears popped faintly. Far below, the polished floor quivered under the weight of her steps. Each footfall was slow and unhurried, but he felt a slight tremor with every impact, as if even the stone was aware of her dominance. Cradled in her fist against the soft sleeve of her kimono, Jin tried not to squirm. He could see only fragments of his surroundings: the monumental columns gliding by, the blur of black and gold from Reika’s robes, a distant doorway growing closer.

She carried him out of the throne room and into the palace corridors beyond. The hallways yawned around them, impossibly large in scale—built to accommodate a goddess in all her glory. Tall arches curved overhead, etched with snarling demonic faces and swirling patterns that glinted in the torchlight. As Reika moved, the flames of the wall sconces bent toward her, as if drawn by an invisible wind or by the gravity of her aura. Shadows leapt and capered at her passing, painting monstrous shapes that danced across Jin’s vision. He caught sight of vast tapestries depicting nightmarish scenes—battles between giants and demons, cities burning under a violet sky—but they whisked by too fast to linger. The air itself was thick with the scent of smoke and something sweetly spiced, like incense masking blood.

Jin’s heart thumped in his chest. Only minutes ago, he had been sure she might kill him—or worse, that she wouldn’t kill him, leaving him trapped in this hellish realm at her mercy. Now he was being whisked deeper into her domain with terrifying intimacy. Calm down… breathe… he told himself, but inside, panic and awe warred for control. Above him, Reika hummed softly—an indistinct tune that reverberated through her body into his. She sounded almost pleased.

They reached a pair of colossal doors at the end of the corridor. Embossed with gold and onyx, they swung open of their own accord as Reika approached, revealing the world outside. Jin squinted; a strange radiance flooded in. This is her realm, he reminded himself, not Earth… and the sight confirmed it.

A vast expanse of sky unfurled above, deep and alien. It was twilight-purple, streaked with pulsating veins of emerald and gold light that writhed like living aurorae. These flickering colors bathed the landscape in an eerie glow, equal parts beautiful and menacing. Jagged mountain peaks jutted into the sky on the horizon, their black surfaces faceted like crystal and glinting with reflections of the strange stars. In the far distance, Jin saw rivers of molten fire carving glowing paths through dark valleys, the lava’s orange light throbbing faintly as if in tune with a giant heartbeat. The air was hot and carried the metallic tang of minerals and sulfur; each breath tasted of smoke and brine. This world felt alive in a way that made Jin’s stomach knot—a breathing, watching presence suffused everything, likely an extension of Reika’s will.

Directly ahead, spread out at the foot of the palace’s basalt steps, was the onsen she spoke of: an immense, steaming lake. It stretched so far into the violet haze that Jin couldn’t discern the far shore—a serene mirror in the midst of a nightmare. Wisps of silvery steam coiled upward from its surface, weaving into the sky and blurring the boundary between water and air. The water itself shimmered unnaturally under the strange lights above, like liquid glass lit from within. Stone lanterns lined parts of the shore, their flames steady and blue, casting gentle light on smooth black rocks that edged the pool. In places, the onsen’s waters overflowed into carved channels, trickling away as glowing rivulets that disappeared over the edge of a nearby obsidian cliff. It was breathtaking—an oasis carved out of an alien hellscape—and yet Jin felt no comfort. Even in its beauty, it was overwhelming and surreal, just like the goddess carrying him toward it.

Reika’s sandals crunched softly on the black gravel as she stepped outside and approached the onsen’s edge. She paused there, finally loosening her fingers and lowering her hand. Jin felt the ground beneath his feet again as she set him down on a broad, warm stone. Her grip released him slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing over his back and legs as they withdrew. For just an instant, Jin was struck by how carefully she did it—she could have simply dropped him, but she chose to place him as one might set down something precious. The realization sent a confusing flutter through his chest.

He stumbled away a half-step, turning to take in his surroundings. The smooth rock under him was heated from below, likely by the same geothermal veins that warmed the onsen. Steam immediately clung to Jin’s damp clothes and face, condensing in his hair. It smelled of minerals and sulfur, thick but not unbearable. He stared out over the water. Up close, the sheer scale of the lake made his head spin; it was as if someone had lifted an entire hot spring from Earth and magnified it a hundredfold. Gentle waves lapped at the black shore a few yards from his feet, each one sending a delicate spray of warm droplets onto the stone. In the shifting steam, he imagined shapes—perhaps spirits or phantom koi—swirling beneath the surface.

Jin realized his hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists to steady himself. Part of him wanted to drop to his knees, whether in exhaustion or supplication he didn’t even know. Another part urged him to run—but where could he possibly go? This was her realm. And she…

His thought broke off as he turned and saw Reika already moving behind him. She had wasted no time in joining him by the water. The towering goddess stepped onto a wide flat rock at the very edge of the onsen. She glanced down at the water, then at Jin, and a playful smirk touched her lips.

“You’re not going to stand there gawking all night, are you?” Reika purred. Her voice had dropped to a low, intimate register that nonetheless echoed across the open lake. The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement. In the shifting light, those eyes glowed a dangerous amethyst.

Jin opened his mouth, fumbling for a reply, but nothing came. He was gawking—how could he not? The image of her standing at the water’s edge, clad in flowing black silk trimmed with gold, backlit by a demon sky, her form both human and impossibly not… it was like something out of a fevered dream. Every survival instinct screamed at him to be wary, afraid, yet another voice—quieter, traitorous—whispered that she was magnificent.

Reika gave a soft, indulgent chuckle at his silence. “Very well,” she said, sighing as if put-upon. “I’ll start without you.” And with that, she began to disrobe.

Jin’s heart lurched into his throat. Oh no. He spun around reflexively, turning his back to her out of modesty or sheer shock—he wasn’t even sure which. A flush rushed to his face, and he felt suddenly lightheaded. She’s just going to undress, right here…? Of course she was. Why would a goddess feel shame or modesty, especially in front of someone as insignificant as him?

But curiosity tugged at him. The sound of fabric sliding against skin was impossibly loud in the quiet night. Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Jin squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to respect what little privacy he could grant her. Still, a flicker of movement in the corner of his vision made his resolve falter—he glanced back, just for a second.

Reika stood with her back to him, looking over one shoulder with a knowing glint. She had caught him peeking, and the grin that spread on her lips made his stomach drop. Slowly, she extended one arm behind her, palm up, in a wordless gesture commanding his attention. Jin’s eyes were drawn helplessly upward as she cast aside the first piece of clothing.

Her outer robe—the heavy furisode kimono—slipped from her shoulders with a languid shrug. The silk fell in shimmering folds down her body, a cascade of midnight black patterned with curling gold motifs that gleamed in the strange light. It pooled around her feet like spilled ink. Underneath, she wore a simpler yukata-like inner garment of deep purple, tied with a golden obi at her waist. She paused, letting the night air caress newly exposed skin. From behind, Jin could see the elegant line of her neck and the sharp, graceful angles of her shoulder blades. Her skin was a flawless moonlight-pale, contrasting starkly with the dark silk sliding away from it.

Jin realized he was staring now—he couldn’t look away. His mouth had gone dry. Each deliberate motion she made was hypnotic, charged with a sultry confidence. Reika lifted her raven hair with both hands, gathering the damp locks atop her head as if to cool herself. The movement caused the remaining robe to loosen further, slipping off one shoulder to reveal the smooth curve where neck met shoulder and a tantalizing hint of her collarbone. She cast a glance back at Jin again, and even from a distance he felt the heat in her gaze, playful and predatory.

“Better,” she murmured, mostly to herself. She kicked off her sandals next—two sharp clacks as they hit the rocks. Freed from them, her bare feet flexed against the stone, toes painted glossy black.

Reika took her time with the rest. One by one, she slid free of her garments: the purple yukata loosened as she tugged at the golden obi, fabric whispering open to unveil the sinuous line of her back. She let the silk drift down her torso inch by inch, exposing the hollow of her lower back and then the gentle curve of her spine. Jin caught sight of a golden tattoo or marking just above her tailbone—some intricate sigil that glowed faintly before fading as her garment covered it again in its descent. When the robe finally fell past her hips and to the ground, Reika stepped out of it, entirely nude under the alien sky.

Jin had stopped breathing. He knew it was rude—dangerous, even—to stare at a goddess without permission. But in that moment, she was an image of such impossible beauty and terror that his mind went blank. Her form was that of a woman in her prime—voluptuous and strong—but magnified to colossal proportions and suffused with unearthly perfection. Every curve, every limb, every strand of her long black hair (which tumbled freely now down her back and nearly to her knees) looked as if sculpted by an artist obsessed with both divinity and sin.

Reika’s body was lit in silhouette by the multicolored sky, giving Jin only teasing impressions: the side of a full breast, the slope of her hip, the long stretch of a leg that could have belonged to some marble Titaness in a museum. Even such fleeting sights made his pulse race. He felt a pang of guilt in that excitement—how could he react this way to her, after all she’d done? Yet his body betrayed him with a flush of warmth that had nothing to do with the onsen’s steam.

Reika glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and let out a soft laugh, clearly pleased by his stupefied reaction. Then she turned and stepped into the water.

She moved with unhurried grace, descending into the steaming lake one foot at a time. As her toes met the water’s surface, the entire onsen seemed to ripple in recognition of her presence. Steam billowed around her calves and thighs, curling upward to wreath her in a semi-transparent veil. Jin could only see fragments: the profile of her body as she waded deeper—breasts gleaming with moisture before being obscured by mist, the toned plane of her midriff, the delicate indent of her navel that for a moment was level with the water before she went further. Each step she took sent gentle waves rolling outward, lapping against the shores with a hushed shhh.

By the time Reika reached a spot about waist-deep , waist-deep for her, at least, Jin was still rooted to his stone on the shore, clutching his arms around himself as if that might ground him. The heat and humidity of the onsen wrapped around him like a weighted blanket, making it hard to breathe normally. He watched as she sank down to sit on an underwater ledge or rock formation—the water level rose up to just below her shoulders. Reika let out a long, satisfied sigh as the hot water embraced her body.

Finally, she looked over at Jin, who remained stranded on the shore. Through the drifting haze, her eyes shone like two violet embers. “Are you planning to join me, Jin,” she called, arching one thin black eyebrow, “or would you rather admire the view from afar all night?”

Her words jolted him. Jin realized with a spike of embarrassment that he was still fully clothed, shoes and all, standing dumbly while she bathed. She had indeed invited—no, commanded—him to accompany her, presumably into the onsen. But how was he supposed to…? He couldn’t possibly disrobe with her watching, and certainly not get in with her at this size. The logistics alone—he’d be like an insect paddling beside a whale. And yet, refusing was unthinkable.

“I-I…” he stammered. The thought of stripping down under her gaze sent his stomach twisting anew. The wet clothes on his body suddenly felt very heavy and clingy. Before he could say more, however, Reika’s expression slid into one of exaggerated patience, as if dealing with a stubborn pet.

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” she mused. A playful menace laced her tone. Reika shifted in the water, leaning her head back against the rocks and stretching one long arm along the ledge. Under the surface, Jin could see the distorted outline of one of her legs moving—bending at the knee. A second later, something prodded his lower back.

Jin froze. He craned his neck down and saw, emerging from the water and mist behind him, the colossal foot of Reika. Even with the water distorting its size, the foot was longer than he was tall. The tops of her toes, white and elegant, nudged against him, urging him forward. In the next instant, the gentle nudge turned into a decisive push.

“Hey—!” Jin yelped, windmilling his arms. Off balance, he stumbled straight ahead. The hot stone under his feet gave way to nothingness as he tumbled off the shore and into the onsen with a resounding splash.

Liquid heat swallowed him. The shock of it forced Jin’s mouth open in a gasp, and he got a mouthful of mineral-tasting water for his trouble. It was far hotter than any bath he’d ever taken—borderline scalding, though not quite enough to truly burn. Still, it stung against scrapes and cuts he hadn’t realized he’d sustained earlier. He sank a few feet beneath the surface before scrambling desperately upwards, kicking his legs and flailing his arms. Up above, through churning bubbles, he could make out Reika’s immense form watching him.

Jin broke the surface, coughing and sputtering. He wiped water from his eyes and heard the lilting sound of Reika’s laughter. It echoed across the onsen, bright and musical. Her laughs always had a way of freezing his blood—there was a girlish sweetness to them, an echo of the teenage friend he’d once known, and that contrast with her current form was profoundly unsettling. Did she actually find this funny?

“S-Stop laughing,” Jin managed weakly, spitting out a bit of water. He paddled clumsily; the onsen was deep enough that he couldn’t touch the bottom. The weight of his soaked clothes pulled at him, and he shrugged out of his hoodie, letting it sink. Modesty was a lost cause now—his shirt clung transparently to his skin and his shoes felt like bricks. Strangely, despite the initial shock, the water’s heat was quickly loosening his knotted muscles and seeping into his bones. It was a lethally comfortable warmth, one that threatened to lull him if he wasn’t careful.

Reika’s laughter tapered off into a satisfied sigh. “Oops,” she said softly, not sounding sorry at all. She had one hand over her mouth in a parody of apology, but her eyes were dancing with mirth. She sat up a bit straighter in the water. Even seated, her upper body towered above Jin like a white cliff rising from a purple sea. “You looked like you needed a little push.”

Jin treaded water, his limbs already tiring. The onsen rippled around him with each movement, tiny waves bouncing off the living mountain that was Reika. He felt absurdly small and exposed, bobbing in front of her naked form. If she wanted, she could create a current to drag him under, or simply grab him and hold him beneath the surface until his lungs gave out… The thought made him shudder, and he forced it away.

“Here,” Reika cooed, “Let me help you.”

Before Jin could respond, the water before him parted with a gentle surge. From the billowing steam, Reika’s foot emerged again. This time it rose like a pale sea creature breaching the surface—glistening droplets cascading off smooth skin. Jin’s eyes widened as the enormous foot, elegant and deadly, approached him from the front. Her toes alone were longer than his forearm; each one tipped in a lacquer-black nail that gleamed. The arch of her foot was high and graceful, leading to a heel that was somehow both delicate in shape and monumental in scale.

He had a heartbeat’s time to marvel, or panic, at the sight before those toes pressed against his chest. Not hard, but insistent, like the nudge of a playful cat. The next thing he knew, Reika’s foot lifted—and Jin along with it. He yelped in alarm as he was bodily raised out of the water, draped across the top of her foot. Reika had scooped him up as if he weighed nothing, balancing him with frightening ease. The cool night air hit his wet face and clothes as water streamed off him in rivulets.

Up, up he went, past Reika’s bent knee. With a fluid motion, she slid Jin along the length of her leg toward her body. He was placed on his back against the slick, wet skin of her shin for a moment, then rolled gently upward. Jin’s drenched clothes squeaked against her as he was maneuvered, and he frantically grasped for any kind of hold to steady himself—his fingers found only the unyielding, velvety smoothness of her skin. He felt the powerful muscles of her calf and thigh flexing subtly beneath him as she adjusted her posture.

In seconds, Jin’s world transformed: the dark waters of the onsen were gone below him, and instead he found himself sprawled across Reika’s midsection, deposited onto the slight slope of her lower belly just above the waterline. The skin beneath him was wet and impossibly warm, as if the onsen’s heat emanated from her rather than the other way around. He slid a few inches on the slippery surface but managed to stop himself by planting his palms down on what felt like a wall of living silk.

Everything was slick and surreal. Steam curled around them, and droplets of water rolled off Reika’s enormous curves like tiny beads of quicksilver. Jin’s senses went into overdrive: he felt the gentle expansion and contraction of her stomach as she breathed; heard the steady thump of her heartbeat somewhere deep beneath flesh; smelled the mix of mineral spring water and a faint, sweet fragrance that clung to her skin (like cherry blossoms and ash—a confusing combination that was uniquely Reika).

He did not dare move. He wasn’t even sure how to move without sliding right off her and plummeting back into the lake. His entire body tensed, every muscle tight. This can’t be real, he thought wildly. I’m lying on Reika… on her bare skin… The absurdity and intimacy of it almost short-circuited his panic. He felt like an insect perched on a slumbering predator—one wrong move and she could flick him away or crush him against herself.

Above him, a low chuckle rumbled, reverberating through Reika’s body and into Jin’s own. She had noticed his rigid stillness. Of course she had. Tilting her head downward, Reika regarded the tiny human sprawled on her abdomen. Her face hovered high above, partially obscured by wafts of steam, but Jin could still make out her expression: a half-lidded gaze and a lazy, satisfied smile. She looked thoroughly pleased with herself.

“Comfortable?” she purred. The single word rolled through her chest in a soft vibration. Jin actually felt the resonance of her voice travel from the skin under him into his own bones.

He found his voice, though it came out strained. “Th-this… this isn’t…” He meant to say this isn’t safe, or proper, or I shouldn’t be here, but his brain supplied no helpful words. What was he going to do—lecture her on modesty? On personal boundaries? The absurdity almost made him laugh hysterically. Instead, all he managed was a weak swallow.

Reika’s smile broadened, revealing a hint of pearly white teeth behind her lips. She shifted her posture just a little, sliding further down into the water to recline. The effect on Jin was like an earthquake in slow motion: her stomach muscles tightened and the plane he lay on subtly tilted. With a yelp, Jin began sliding downward, helplessly carried along the smooth slope of her abdomen. In seconds he slid past her navel and towards the gentle valley where her ribcage rose on either side. Before he could tumble off her side, however, a massive hand appeared, cupping around him. Two fingers as long as spears braced against his side and nudged him, redirecting his slide slightly. Jin ended up rolling to a stop against a new obstacle—something soft, plush, and yielding that gently deformed under his weight.

He froze as realization struck. The new “ground” beneath him was the slope of Reika’s breast. More precisely, he had come to rest almost at the top of one immense breast, just shy of where it curved into the peak. The skin here was just as silky, though with a subtle different texture—tender and oh-so-warm. A single droplet of water rolled down from Reika’s collarbone and ran over Jin’s arm, making him shiver.

Above him, he heard an exaggerated “Oh?” Reika’s voice dripped with false innocence. “Clumsy little thing, aren’t you?” She was clearly teasing, as if he had been the one to throw himself onto her chest. Jin felt the surface beneath him quake slightly as she gave a soft laugh.

Face flaming, he tried to push himself up, to scramble away from the compromising position. But before he could find any purchase, a single fingertip pressed down on his back. Gently—but firmly—Reika pinned him in place against her breast, thwarting any escape. Jin’s cheek was now pressed to her slippery skin, and he could hear the rapid thump of his own heart in his ears, competing with the slower, mightier beat of hers.

“Maybe you like it there,” Reika mused. She sounded thoroughly entertained. “Is this what you wanted, Jin?” Her tone was light, as if sharing a secret joke, but there was an undercurrent to it—a dark edge that made it clear she was savoring his embarrassment and fear in equal measure.

Jin’s entire body was burning, and not just from the onsen’s heat. He couldn’t even form a denial; shame, panic, and a confusing thread of physical arousal all tangled inside him. It was true that some buried part of him was captivated by her body—the way any human might respond to an overwhelmingly attractive sight—but the dominant feeling was terror. Terror at her casual domination, at how completely she controlled the situation (and him), and at how his own body responded despite everything he knew about the monster she’d become.

“I-I don’t—this isn’t—!” he stammered against her skin. Each breath he took was filled with her scent and the humid air, making him almost dizzy. He felt her finger stroke lightly down his spine, the nail tracing his soaked shirt, sending a strange thrill through him.

Reika gave a soft “hmm” as if considering his incoherence. “No?” she drawled. “How disappointing.” Yet she didn’t sound disappointed at all. If anything, she sounded thrilled by his helplessness.

Without warning, her fingers—those same gentle ones pinning him—slid beneath his body and curled around him once more. The sudden movement made Jin gasp. The world spun as she lifted him off her chest and up into the air, dripping and sputtering. Her wet hand closed loosely around his torso, securing him, while her other hand brushed stray locks of black hair away from her face.

Jin found himself dangling in front of Reika’s visage, mere inches from her nose. Droplets of water from his clothes fell and splashed on the surface below, far, far beneath his dangling feet. Reika’s eyes narrowed playfully as she regarded him at eye level. Being this close was overwhelming—her features were stunning at normal size, but magnified like this they were almost all he could see. Each iris was a pool of royal purple with swirls of gold near the pupil, and they bore into him with an intensity that made his heart skip. Her breath caressed him in warm gusts that smelled faintly of sake and something floral.

For a moment she just watched him squirm in her grasp. Jin felt like a mouse caught by a cat—dangling, helpless, praying for mercy that likely wouldn’t come. Then Reika’s lips parted, and her breath washed over him stronger, humid and scented by the minerals of the spring. Jin’s eyes widened.

Her mouth was opening. Wider… and wider.

A tremor of primal fear shot through Jin’s veins. He stared into the maw of a goddess: beyond those plush lips lay immaculate white teeth, each one the size of a tombstone to him and sharp as blades toward the back where her canines gleamed. Further beyond, the darkness of her throat yawned like a portal. A glistening hint of her tongue and the ridges on the roof of her mouth were visible in the low light. It was an awe-inspiring and horrifying sight—beauty and death in one. Steam from the onsen mingled with the moist heat emanating from between her lips.

Jin’s survival instincts kicked in. He began to struggle, kicking his legs and trying to push against the fingers wrapped around him. “Reika… Reika, don’t—!” he managed to choke out. His voice came out embarrassingly shrill. Was she actually going to… to eat him? The thought was so insane that he might have laughed if he wasn’t consumed by terror.

One of Reika’s eyebrows arched elegantly. She paused, with Jin still held just outside her open mouth. He could feel the suction of her breath drawing him slightly forward, making the loose sleeves of his shirt flutter. She held him there for another heartbeat, letting him stare into the abyss of her throat—and into the promise of his own gruesome end.

Then, like a tease ending a trick, Reika closed her mouth and pulled him away. Her lips pressed together in a satisfied smirk. “Relax, Jin,” she purred, her voice vibrating through the hand that held him. “I wouldn’t eat you. You’d be far too chewy.” She gave a little wink.

Jin was shaking uncontrollably now, his pulse racing so fast he thought his heart might burst. He could scarcely process that she was joking—if it even was a joke. Perhaps just a statement of fact. The line between humor and threat was always razor-thin with her. He stared at her, eyes wide, chest heaving as he gulped down air. The steam around them felt suddenly stifling.

Reika regarded him for another long moment, as if relishing the fear written plainly on his face. Finally, with a soft “tsk,” she shifted and began to lower him back down. Jin’s stomach flipped as she moved him, and a second later he found himself being placed back onto her body—this time just below her collarbone, where a smooth expanse of skin lay between the slopes of her breasts. It was a slightly safer perch than before, though still an absurd one.

She eased him down with care, then let go. Jin stayed on hands and knees atop her upper chest, dripping and trembling, utterly defeated for the moment. Reika leaned her head back against the rocks at the edge of the onsen, seeming content now that her tiny companion was resting on her like some kind of living accessory. The danger, for now, appeared to have passed.

A heavy silence draped itself over them, broken only by the soft lapping of water and Jin’s ragged breathing. Reika closed her eyes and stretched languidly, her arms moving through the water beneath. The motion caused the flesh beneath Jin to rise and fall like a gentle swell, and he instinctively flattened himself to maintain balance. Her breasts shifted under him, two massive pillows that he was careful not to slide into again. To his bewilderment, Reika began to hum—a delicate melody, old and unfamiliar—while luxuriating in the hot water. It was as though Jin truly were nothing more than a pet or a plaything she had momentarily set aside, now that she’d gotten bored of active play.

Jin’s mind raced, trying to catch up with what had just happened. Shame hit him in waves. She had handled him so easily, manipulated him and his body with an intimacy that left him feeling violated and confused. What disturbed him most was that small part of him, buried under layers of terror, that had felt a spark of thrill—an unwilling spark, but a spark nonetheless—at the sensation of her touch, her overpowering attention. It was as if her presence drugged the air; even now, breathing in the faint perfume of her skin and the onsen’s minerals, Jin felt lightheaded.

After a minute, Reika spoke again, softly, almost wistfully: “It really is nice having you here with me.” Her eyes remained closed as she said it, and her hand drifted over, one finger idly stroking along Jin’s back like one might pet a small animal. Jin flinched at first, but the touch was gentle, almost absent-minded. Water droplets the size of coins rolled off her fingertip onto him.

The casual statement, and the tender way she touched him now, left Jin at a loss. There was no obvious malice in her voice at that moment—just contentment. But it wasn’t affection either, not in any human sense. It felt like a queen admiring a trinket in her collection, pleased that it was exactly where she wanted it.

Jin’s mouth was dry, despite being soaked. His instincts screamed at him to keep quiet and not disturb her good mood. But behind that instinct was a swelling tide of emotion he had repressed since arriving in this world. Fear, confusion… and grief. Grief for the people he’d seen her destroy only hours earlier, for the innocence lost, for the friend he’d lost. His eyes stung—perhaps from the sulfuric steam, perhaps from tears threatening.

She’s acting as if nothing happened, he thought, anger rising to mingle with his fear. Perhaps it was a suicidal impulse, but Jin couldn’t hold it in any longer. His hands clenched against the slick skin under him.

“How…” His voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again, quietly but firmly: “How can you say that? After what you did… back there.”

Reika’s finger paused its stroking. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked down at him, one eyebrow arched in mild confusion. “Hm?” she intoned, as if not sure she’d heard him right.

Jin’s heart thundered. Part of him was screaming shut up, shut up, what are you doing?! But the words poured out, shaky but resolute: “Reika, you—” he licked his lips; they tasted of salt. “You killed so many people back there.” His voice cracked on the last words, a mixture of accusation and sorrow. “I… I watched you do it.”

The statement hung in the air, heavy as a boulder.

Reika did not respond at once. Her expression didn’t change immediately either. But Jin felt something around them shift—the temperature? The pressure? The steam that had been lazily drifting seemed to still, as if the very atmosphere was holding its breath. Beneath him, the body that had been a moment ago languid and relaxed became taut. Muscles coiled under smooth skin; her spine straightened slightly.

Jin suddenly wondered if he had just made the worst mistake of his life. Perhaps the last mistake of his life.

Reika’s gaze hardened, though her smile remained. It thinned at the edges, turning from genuine amusement into something else—something brittle and razor-sharp. She sat up a touch higher in the water, looming closer over Jin’s tiny form on her chest. Her eyes had lost that playful glimmer; now they were dark and depthless.

“You really know how to spoil a perfect moment, don’t you?” she said softly. Her tone was light, but it carried a dangerous undercurrent, like silk hiding a blade. The playful warmth from just moments ago was gone, replaced by a chilling neutrality.

Jin’s blood ran cold. He opened his mouth, desperate to apologize or backtrack, but no sound came. What could he possibly say? He had voiced what was in his heart, but now that it was out in the open, he felt utterly exposed and vulnerable—much more so than when she’d been teasing him physically.

For a beat, Reika simply regarded him, that tight smile still fixed on her face. Then she sighed—a long, theatrical sigh of disappointment. “And here I was, enjoying our little bath,” she murmured, shaking her head as if scolding a misbehaving child. “Such a shame.”

Without another word, her fingers closed around Jin once more. This time there was no pretense of gentleness or affection. She didn’t squeeze hard enough to hurt him, but the ease and impersonal speed with which she plucked him off her body was terrifying in its own right. One moment Jin was atop the warm pillow of her chest, and the next he was trapped in a fist and being carried through the air.

Reika stood up from the water in one powerful motion. She rose to her full height, water cascading off her monumental form. Jin glimpsed huge sheets of water pouring down her curves as he was whisked away—like rivers running along the surface of a statue of a goddess. For a fraction of a second, the thought struck him that she looked even more divine now: droplets clung to her skin, catching the glint of the alien sky’s lights, making her seem as if she were studded with diamonds. Her hair, soaking wet, fanned out against her back and over her breasts, sticking to her in places and concealing little. But any awe he felt was tempered by the icy dread in his stomach, because her face told him everything: behind that cool, unreadable mask was annoyance, if not outright anger.

In two great strides, Reika reached the edge of the onsen. Jin barely had time to process the blur of motion and the sudden rush of cooler night air hitting his wet body when he felt himself being lowered. Reika deposited him on a flat ledge of black stone at the very edge of the water. It was the same spot where he’d stood before—where this whole surreal bath began.

Jin’s legs almost buckled as his feet touched solid ground. Reika’s hand released him, and he stumbled forward, catching himself on hands and knees on the warm rock. The world spun; he was still dizzy from being handled so roughly. Hot puffs of breath escaped his lips as he tried to steady himself.

When he managed to look up, he realized Reika had already stepped completely out of the onsen behind him. She loomed there, half-shrouded by curls of steam, water streaming off her towering body. With the onsen’s glow at her back and the unnatural sky above, she was a silhouette of raw power—an imposing dark figure with gleaming eyes, standing over him like a judge ready to pass sentence.

Jin’s heart pounded in his throat. He scrambled backward on the ledge as she advanced one step, then another, each footfall slow and deliberate on the wet stone. Her long shadow fell over him, enveloping him in darkness. Droplets of water from her hair and elbows rained down around him, some splashing his face. He barely noticed; he was transfixed by the expression on her face. It wasn’t a snarl, nor a scowl—Reika still wore a semblance of a smile. But it was the smile of a predator deciding how to deal with prey that has annoyed it.

“Stand up, Jin,” she said softly. That gentle, honeyed tone was back in her voice, but now it felt more threatening than if she had shouted.

Jin’s first instinct was to obey immediately. He struggled shakily to his feet, his wet clothes heavy and clinging to his skin. He felt like a sodden kitten pulled from a river, standing before this immaculate huntress. The stone ledge was about waist-high to a kneeling person; to Reika, it was just above her ankle.

As soon as he stood, Reika’s lips curved in a pleased little grin. “Good boy,” she almost whispered. The patronizing praise made Jin flush with equal parts anger and humiliation. He opened his mouth—whether to apologize or argue again, he wasn’t sure—but he never got the chance.

Reika’s foot came forward, hovering over the ledge. Water still dripped from her toes and the arch of her sole as she raised it. Jin’s eyes went wide and he stumbled a step back on instinct, but there was nowhere to go—behind him was a drop back into the steaming lake, and on either side the ledge narrowed. He threw his arms up in a feeble guard.

The ball of Reika’s foot descended on Jin, pressing into his chest and shoulders. It was not a kick, not even quite a stomp; she moved slowly, almost lazily, as she pinned him against the flat slab of rock. Yet the weight and size difference meant that Jin was instantly overpowered. He cried out as his back hit the stone surface. Warm, slightly wet flesh covered him from neck to waist, shoving the air from his lungs. The faint scent of onsen water and her natural sweetness mixed in his nose—a deceptively pleasant smell even as he was nearly smothered by her foot.

Jin’s world became a narrow span of darkness beneath her sole. One of her toes pressed against his cheek, forcing his head to the side; the other curled around the top of his shoulders. He could feel the texture of her skin—silken smooth, with the slight ridges of a footprint pattern—against the side of his face and his torso. The pressure increased incrementally, driving the breath from him. Pain blossomed in his ribs as they strained under the weight. He tried to inhale but it was like a boulder lay on his chest.

Above, through a haze of panic, Jin could just make out Reika’s form towering beyond her leg through the gaps of her toes. She bent forward slightly, hands on her hips. The motion made her thigh press more firmly, inexorably, and Jin let out a strangled gasp as his ribs complained.

“You asked me a question,” Reika said calmly. Her voice reached him past the pounding of blood in his ears. “Something about killing people…?” She feigned a thoughtful tone. “Ah, yes. You wanted to know how I could do that, I suppose. How I could kill so many and then act like it meant nothing.”

Jin could barely choke out a response, and she wasn’t truly seeking one. His fingers scrabbled uselessly at the top of her foot, which to him felt as unmovable as a marble statue heated by the sun. He could feel himself starting to black out; panic surged, and adrenaline with it. With a desperate burst of strength, he tried to push upward—his palms pressed at her big toe and arch, shaking with effort. It was like trying to lift a house. Reika didn’t even budge; if anything, feeling him struggle just encouraged her to press down a little more.

“Shh,” she cooed, looking down at him. “Don’t tire yourself out. You’ll hurt yourself, Jin.” Her tone was mock-concerned, dripping with cruelty. Reika shifted her weight just enough to make a point. The pressure on Jin’s torso suddenly spiked, and he felt something deep inside creak alarmingly. A strangled, wheezing cry escaped his throat. His vision flashed white with pain for an instant.

Then she eased up—just slightly, just enough to let him draw a single, ragged breath. Jin coughed, sucking in steam-laden air mixed with the scent of her skin. He realized he was shaking uncontrollably, more tears pricking at his eyes from the pain and fear.

Above him, Reika’s face lowered closer. Her long hair spilled over one shoulder, the ends dripping onto the stone near Jin’s head. She regarded him almost academically, head tilted to one side. “How easy it would be…” she murmured. “Do you know, Jin? How easy it would be for me to end you right now?”

She punctuated the question with the slightest increase in pressure from her foot. Jin felt a crackle of agony along one of his ribs—he couldn’t stop a whine of pain. His hands, trapped at his sides by her toes, clenched into fists. I’m going to die, he thought with stark clarity. Crushed like a bug under her foot. Fresh terror flooded him.

Reika’s eyes glinted. “I wouldn’t even have to try,” she continued in that almost conversational tone. “No mess. No blood. Just—” Her foot pressed down the tiniest bit more. “—snap.”

A choked sob escaped Jin’s lips. The word echoed in his mind: snap, snap. His bones could be splintered in an instant if she so desired. His life snuffed out between one moment and the next, underfoot like an insect. And the worst part? He believed her when she said it would mean nothing to her. No guilt. No remorse. Likely not even a second thought beyond the immediate thrill.

Reika eased her foot off him a fraction, removing the worst of the pressure but keeping him pinned firmly. Jin sucked in air greedily. Every breath hurt—a sharp pang in his chest told him at least one rib might be cracked. He tried not to whimper. Above, Reika’s face remained close, studying him.

“You’re… a monster,” Jin managed to rasp out, almost inaudibly. His voice quivered, and a tear of pain slipped from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t clear if Reika heard him or just intuited his thoughts.

She narrowed her eyes. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Only the distant roar of a lava river and the bubbling of the onsen filled the silence, along with Jin’s hitched breaths. Finally, Reika sighed. It was not the earlier playful sigh, but something heavier.

“You think I’m a monster,” she said quietly. There was no question in it—just a statement of fact. Her foot lifted off Jin’s chest completely now, granting him mercy. Jin inhaled deeply, grimacing as he rolled onto his side on the rock. Every part of him was shaking, from adrenaline if not outright injury.

Freed from beneath her foot, he instinctively tried to crawl backwards, away from her looming form. But Reika moved too swiftly. In one fluid motion, she dropped to a crouch. The ground trembled as her knees settled on either side of the ledge where Jin lay. The sudden shift from being under her foot to being between her massive thighs, gazing up at her crouched figure, was disorienting. She was still completely naked, droplets of water trailing down her curves, but there was nothing remotely sexual in her face now. Crouched like this, she resembled some great obsidian panther eyeing a trapped mouse.

Reika lowered one hand and, with a single finger under Jin’s chin, forced him to look up at her. That finger alone covered the span of his throat to his jaw; Jin could feel the lethal potential in even that light touch. He went still, heart hammering.

“I am a monster, a demon, a goddess or whatever they decide to call me,” Reika said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes bored into Jin’s, demanding he understand. “I’m not human. Not anymore.” Her expression flickered—something like pride, anger, and a hint of sadness all at once.

Jin couldn’t look away. In her eyes he saw depths of madness and loneliness that he could scarcely comprehend. She had once been human—he knew that, she knew that—but that person he’d known was either buried deep or long gone. In her place was this mercurial being of wrath and desire. In her gaze now, as she held him beneath her like a cornered animal, he saw no mercy, but also no outright hatred. She wasn’t doing this out of rage or vengeance. She was doing it because she could, and because he had dared to ruin her pleasant mood.

Reika’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I used to be small,” she murmured. “Like you. But I’ve long since forgotten what that’s like—how it felt to be weak, to be breakable.” The finger under Jin’s chin shifted, a nail scraping lightly along his cheek as she moved her hand to stroke his wet hair. It was a disturbingly tender gesture from someone who had just nearly crushed him to death.

Jin flinched but didn’t resist. He was acutely aware that with one twitch of those fingers she could snap his neck. The adrenaline crash was hitting him; he felt a wave of exhaustion and despair. A few involuntary tears mingled with the droplets of water on his face, and he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him sob.

Reika’s expression softened just a fraction as she watched him. There was a silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. The goddess inhaled deeply, then let out a slow breath. The dangerous tension in the air began to ebb, if only a little.

“That’s enough excitement for tonight,” she said, voice low. She drew back, rising once more to her full height above him. Jin remained kneeling on the stone, arms wrapped around his aching ribs, peering up at her warily.

Towering over him, Reika reached down one more time. Jin suppressed a flinch as her index finger approached his face—but she only brushed aside a damp lock of his hair that had fallen over his eyes. The gesture was almost affectionate, marred only by the sheer scale of her touch and the context of what had just transpired. Her nail, sharp and black, traced lightly over his temple in the process. Jin held his breath, feeling like a mouse under a cat’s paw.

Reika’s face was unreadable as she straightened. Water no longer streamed off her; most had dripped away, leaving her skin glowing and dewy in the night. She looked down at Jin for a long moment, those piercing eyes lingering on his shivering form. The silence was suffocating—Jin didn’t dare break it now.

Finally, she spoke, a note of finality in her tone. “Dry off,” she commanded. “And be grateful I’m still in a forgiving mood.” Her gaze flicked to the horizon where a distant thunderhead pulsed with silent lightning. “If you ever ruin my mood like that again, Jin, I won’t be so gentle.”

Gentle. The word hung in the air as she turned and stepped away, back toward the palace. Jin almost let out a hysterical laugh—if this was her version of gentle, he truly didn’t want to see her wrath. But he kept the thought to himself, gulping down the impulse along with the metallic taste of fear in his mouth.

Reika walked, naked and unabashed, into the swirling mist that edged the onsen. Within a few steps, the darkness and vapor had enveloped most of her form, leaving only the echo of her outline and the faint tap of her retreating footsteps on stone. Jin sat there, watching as her silhouette faded like a nightmare at dawn—except dawn was nowhere near in this eternal twilight realm.

In moments, he was alone. The night air suddenly felt cooler without her overwhelming heat near him. The onsen’s gentle bubbling was the only sound. Slowly, gingerly, Jin shifted to sit properly on the ledge, drawing his knees up. A shudder ran through him—delayed shock setting in.

He was alive. Battered, bruised, humiliated… but alive.

Jin pressed a trembling hand against his ribcage and winced. Every breath still hurt, but it felt like perhaps nothing was fully broken—just cracked and extremely tender. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on breathing slowly. In… out. In… out. The air that entered his lungs was thick with moisture and tinged with sulfur, but it was air, and it meant he could still breathe. He focused on that simple fact to calm himself.

After a minute or two, Jin became aware that his teeth were chattering. The heat of the onsen had kept him warm until now, but sitting exposed in the open, the slight breeze of the demon realm night prickled his wet skin. He realized he needed to get dry, and quickly. As commanding as Reika’s last words had been, they were also practical: if he stayed out here shivering in wet clothes, he’d catch his death of cold—or whatever sickness one caught in a demon dimension.

With considerable effort, Jin pushed himself to his feet. He grimaced, hand going to his side. Moving was painful, but manageable. His soaked pants clung to him unpleasantly, and he noticed one of his shoes was missing—lost in the onsen, likely sunk without a trace. The other shoe squelched with each step as he hobbled off the ledge onto the gravel path.

The landscape around him was eerily quiet now. The purple sky continued to churn lazily with its veins of green and gold, casting enough light to see by, but the absence of Reika’s colossal form made everything seem strangely hollow and oppressive. In the distance, the towering silhouette of her palace loomed—jagged spires and sprawling ramparts cut against the horizon. Jin felt a pang in his chest looking at it; he was heading right back inside that den, into the clutches of the being who’d just toyed with him like a plaything. But what choice did he have? Out here in the open, he was just as vulnerable—to other monsters, to the elements, to despair.

He managed a few steps down the path, leaving a faint trail of water droplets on the dark stones. With each step, his clothes grew colder against his skin. He needed to find a towel or—

Soft footsteps echoed from somewhere up ahead. Jin froze. These weren’t the thunderous booms of Reika’s stride; they were light, quick, and multiplied. More than one person, heading his way. His mind immediately conjured images of demons or other horrors roaming the palace grounds. In a panic, he looked around for a place to hide—there was an outcrop of rock near the path, or maybe he could slip back into the water? But he was so exhausted…

Before he could decide, two figures emerged through the drifting mist along the path leading toward the onsen. Jin’s muscles tensed, prepared for the worst.

They were human. Actually human.

The first figure was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, clad in a simple but elegant robe of pure white tied with a golden cord. Her dark hair was pinned up neatly, and even in the dim light Jin could see a gentle yet purposeful look on her face. She moved with calm grace, bare feet making no sound on the stones—he only heard her because of his heightened senses after all the adrenaline. Behind her, a second figure followed: a boy in his mid-to-late teens, carrying a folded bundle of cloth and a small lacquered tray with careful balance. The boy’s hair was a sandy brown, somewhat unruly, and his frame was lean. His posture held a mix of deference and youthful energy as he trailed the woman.

They both spotted Jin at the same time. Instantly, the woman and boy halted and bowed deeply in unison. The precision of it took Jin aback, as did the honor implied by such a bow. He certainly wasn’t used to anyone bowing to him.

“Lord Jin,” the young woman greeted, her voice soft but clear. “Tachibana-sama sent us. She thought you might require some assistance.” As she straightened from the bow, she offered him a kind, if measured, smile.

Jin blinked, disoriented for a moment. Lord Jin? No one had ever called him “lord” in his life. The formal address sounded almost absurd given he was standing there with one shoe and soaked clothes, bedraggled as a half-drowned cat. His mind caught up a second later— Tachibana-sama meant Reika. So she had dispatched these two to tend to him? When? Before leaving him at the onsen? The thought was confusing; how could she have arranged that so quickly, unless they had been waiting nearby?

“I… uh…” Jin struggled to find words. The normalcy and politeness of this interaction was such a stark contrast to the ordeal he’d just endured that he felt off-balance. “Thank you,” he managed finally, voice a bit hoarse. “But, um, who…?”

The woman stepped forward, holding the folded bundle (which looked like clothes) out to him. “My name is Aika,” she said gently. Up close, Jin could see she had a pretty face with refined features and steady eyes, the eyes of someone who had seen much and been tempered by it. She inclined her head toward the boy, who stepped up as well. “This is Kaoru. We serve Tachibana-sama here in the palace Kokuyo, the black radiance. We’re here to help you.”

Kaoru, the teenager, gave a polite nod when introduced. Jin caught a glimpse of something in the boy’s expression—a spark of curiosity or amusement behind the polite facade, especially as Kaoru’s gaze flicked over Jin’s thoroughly soaked state.

Jin accepted the bundle of cloth from Aika, realizing it was a neatly folded robe much like theirs (white with gold accents). The fabric was soft and smelled lightly of jasmine. He also took note of the tray in Kaoru’s hands—on it sat a small porcelain cup that emitted a fragrant steam, and a fluffy towel. His chilled body practically wept with relief at the sight of the towel and the thought of a hot drink.

“Th-thank you,” he said again, more sincerely this time. He started to reach for the towel on the tray, but Kaoru stepped forward before he could and offered it to him directly.

Jin noticed the boy’s hands were steady, though his eyes were studying Jin with a keen, perhaps slightly cheeky interest. “You’re not the first newcomer to come out of an encounter with Tachibana-sama looking a bit… shaken,” Kaoru said, not unkindly. There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a respectfully neutral expression. “She can be overwhelming.”

Aika shot the boy a brief look—perhaps a warning not to overstep—but her face remained composed. Jin took the towel, mopping it over his dripping hair. The simple act of drying himself felt oddly grounding, a reminder of basic humanity and care after the surreal nightmare of the onsen.

“You could say that,” Jin replied wryly to Kaoru’s remark, voice muffled a bit by the towel as he rubbed it over his face. He must have looked utterly shell-shocked. Frankly, he felt it.

Aika gestured politely toward the robe in Jin’s arms. “If you’d like to change into dry clothes, Lord Jin, we can escort you to a place where you can rest after. Tachibana-sama has ordered that you be made comfortable.”

At that, Kaoru let out the slightest snort, quickly stifled. Jin got the sense the boy found some dark humor in the notion of comfort in Reika’s domain. Jin couldn’t blame him—comfortable was not how he’d describe being here. Still, dry clothes and a rest sounded like heaven at the moment.

“Right,” Jin murmured. His mind was slowly adjusting to this sudden hospitality. He looked between Aika and Kaoru. They were both clearly human, as real as him. That realization brought a flood of questions to his lips despite his fatigue. “You… you’re both Human? Like me?” he asked, clutching the robe to his chest.

Aika nodded calmly. “Yes. Human, just like you. Tachibana-sama chose us herself to live and work here.”

Jin hesitated, glancing down. Chose them? To live here? He imagined for a moment Reika plucking Aika and Kaoru out of their ordinary lives—much as she had with him—bringing them to this world. But unlike him, they appeared… well, not happy, but at least not terrified. They wore clean clothes, seemed healthy, and acted with a composed purpose.

“You serve her willingly?” Jin asked, unable to keep the skepticism and hint of incredulity from his tone. The idea of willingly serving someone who could be so cruel…

Aika and Kaoru exchanged a brief look. Kaoru shrugged slightly, as if to say might as well tell him. Aika took a slow breath and replied, “We do. She rescued each of us from circumstances in the mortal world that… would likely have killed us, or worse. Places that didn’t care if we lived or died. Here, under her protection, we have food, shelter, and safety. No one harms us. In return, we serve.”

Jin absorbed that, towel paused in his hand. There was no mistaking the genuine note in Aika’s voice when she said safety. It was clear that, whatever their lives had been, they considered this an improvement. It was hard for Jin to fathom—a life so bad that living under a capricious goddess in a demon realm was preferable—but he also knew nothing of their pasts.

Kaoru chimed in, voice pragmatic, “Tachibana-sama doesn’t lie, and she doesn’t break her promises. That’s more than could be said for the people we left behind. She’s many things—” His mouth quirked wryly, “—but she’s straightforward. In her own way.”

“That’s… enough, Kaoru,” Aika gently interjected, though not harshly. It seemed more to keep him from venturing into saying something that might border on disrespectful. Aika then looked back to Jin. “She can be harsh, yes. But she is also true to her word. That is enough for some of us.” After a beat, she added in a quieter tone, “And at times, she can even be gentle.”

Jin wasn’t sure what to say. He recalled fleetingly the way Reika had brushed his hair aside so tenderly moments ago, the way she’d almost purred with contentment with him in the bath—those could be considered gentle moments, in a twisted way. But they were overshadowed by her casual violence.

Still, seeing Aika and Kaoru here, speaking calmly and even positively about Reika, threw him. It was one thing to fear a monster; it was another to see that monster through the eyes of those who had made peace with it.

He quickly dried himself as best he could and then glanced between the two servants, feeling awkward. “Um… could I maybe have a moment to change?” he asked. He was painfully aware that beneath his clinging shirt and pants, he was soaked and half-naked anyway. “I’d like to get out of these wet things.”

“Of course,” Aika said at once. She turned around, facing away from him, and Kaoru followed suit after handing off the tray to Jin. Jin caught a slight grin on the boy’s face as he turned, something mischievous in it, which confirmed to Jin that Kaoru, at least, was still very much a teenager behind the courteous behavior. But the two gave him as much privacy as possible under the circumstances.

Setting the tray down on a nearby flat rock, Jin quickly shrugged out of his sodden shirt and peeled off his heavy pants. Both landed with a wet plop on the ground. He kept his damp undergarments on—there was a limit to how comfortable he was stripping in the open with near-strangers about, even if they weren’t watching. Gingerly, he pulled on the fresh robe. It was a simple kimono-style garment that wrapped around and tied at the waist with the golden sash. On him, it hung a bit loose (he wasn’t as tall or broad as whomever it might have been originally tailored for), but it was blissfully dry and soft. He exhaled, feeling human again as the fabric brushed his skin.

“I’m decent,” Jin said. Aika and Kaoru turned back to face him. Kaoru’s gaze flicked to the discarded Earth clothes on the ground—Jin’s t-shirt with a faded band logo, his jeans and single remaining shoe—and an amused smile tugged at his lips, but he said nothing. Aika picked up the tray again and offered Jin the cup that sat on it.

It was tea, dark and giving off a rich fragrance of plum and spices. Jin accepted it gratefully, wrapping his cold fingers around the warm porcelain. As he sipped, the sweet-tart taste of plum with a hint of cinnamon spread through his mouth, and warmth coursed down his throat to his stomach. It was delicious, and he hadn’t realized until that moment how thirsty and chilled he was. “Thank you,” he murmured, meaning it deeply.

Aika inclined her head. “If you’re ready, Lord Jin, we’ll escort you to your chambers. Tachibana-sama has prepared a room for you to rest. Food will be brought, and anything else you require.”

Jin felt a tired laugh bubble up, but he contained it to a small smile. Chambers. Food. The contrast between the brutality he’d experienced and the courteous hospitality being offered was almost absurd. But he wouldn’t refuse it. He needed a rest desperately.

“That sounds good,” he said simply. He then mustered the courage to ask one more burning question as they began to walk slowly back toward the palace. “You mentioned I’m… not the first person she’s brought here. Others like me. What… what happened to them?” He needed to know, even if part of him feared the answer.

Kaoru and Aika exchanged another glance, and this time Aika’s face grew a shade more somber. They walked on for a few steps in silence, the crunch of gravel under three sets of feet the only sound. Finally, Kaoru spoke, voice quiet. “Most who came before couldn’t adjust to life here. Some… grew frightened, as you can imagine. A few tried to defy her, or escape.”

“They didn’t last,” Aika added softly. She kept her gaze forward, but Jin saw a shadow in her eyes. “They’re not here anymore.”

Jin felt a chill that the warm tea couldn’t banish. He had suspected as much. Reika’s attention was as deadly as it was capricious. If someone bored her or angered her, that was likely the end of them. The fact he was still alive after openly challenging her tonight might have been nothing short of a miracle—or perhaps a perverse whim on her part to keep him around.

He clutched the tea cup a bit tighter, his knuckles whitening. I’m still alive. For now. But how long until he said or did the wrong thing and ended up like those other “guests”? He thought of the twisted glee in her eyes as she pinned him down… and the strange tenderness as she had inquired if he was comfortable. Why me? Why was he someone she decided to bring here and keep? Was it because they had known each other before, or was that irrelevant now?

Aika’s voice broke into his thoughts. “We should hurry inside. The night can get cold.” She gestured ahead, and Jin realized they had reached the great doors of the palace once more. They stood ajar, awaiting them like a yawning mouth.

With a bracing breath, Jin nodded and followed the two servants back into Reika’s lair.

The room Aika led Jin to could almost be described as cozy—an odd word in a demon queen’s palace, Kokuyo as they called it, but it fit. After winding through a few grand hallways (thankfully mostly empty and far less imposing than the throne room), they had arrived at a pair of sliding shoji doors. Beyond them was a small chamber lit by gentle amber lanterns that hung from wooden beams overhead. The walls were polished dark stone, but partially covered by beautifully painted paper screens depicting cranes flying over moonlit water. There was a low table made of some gleaming reddish wood, surrounded by plush cushions of deep violet. In one corner, a large brazier glowed softly, emanating warmth that filled the space. The floor, surprisingly, was lined with tatami mats—a touch of traditional comfort that reminded Jin so much of home that his chest ached.

It was simple, elegant, and notably lacking in overt demonic motifs. In fact, aside from the scale (everything was a little larger than normal, likely to accommodate Reika if she decided to enter even at a greater size), it could have been a room in a ryokan or a traditional inn back in Japan.

“This will be your chamber while you stay here,” Aika explained. She moved quietly about the room, adjusting a lantern’s wick and straightening the already perfectly neat arrangement of cushions. Kaoru slid the doors shut behind them, muffling the distant howls of the demon realm’s winds.

Jin hovered near the entrance at first, taking it in. He realized he hadn’t let out the breath he’d been holding. This was likely the first truly safe, enclosed space he’d been in since… since leaving Tokyo? Hard to believe so much had happened in what must be less than a day.

He stepped further in, the tatami mats brushing his bare feet (they had given him simple slippers, but he’d left them at the door out of habit). Immediately he felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. The whole room was imbued with a quiet calm. The air even smelled pleasant—incense of sandalwood or something akin, subtly masking the sulfur scent that clung to his skin.

Aika gestured to one of the cushions by the table. “Please, sit. You should rest. Toma will be here shortly with a meal.”

Jin obeyed, lowering himself onto the cushion. The soft padding gave under him comfortably. His ribs complained at the movement but in the warmth of this room, and with the adrenaline fading, it was a dull ache rather than sharp pain. He set the empty teacup down on the table, noting absently that the wood had delicate carvings of lotus flowers around its edges.

“Thank you… both of you,” Jin said, looking up at Aika and Kaoru earnestly. “I… I don’t know what I would have done without your help.” It felt important to acknowledge their kindness. They had no reason to care about him beyond orders, but he sensed a genuine compassion from Aika and a genuine if entertained curiosity from Kaoru.

Aika gave a small bow of her head, while Kaoru just flashed a brief grin as if to say Don’t mention it.

“I know you must have many questions, Lord Jin,” Aika said. “And in time, we will answer what we can. But for now, try to recover your strength. Tachibana-sama will summon you when she is ready.”

There was something in the way she said it that made Jin think this was as much a warning as it was reassurance. When she is ready. Not if—when. Reika’s whims were law here. He was not going to be allowed to simply hide away in this chamber indefinitely.

Jin nodded, lowering his eyes. “Understood.” He hesitated, then added quietly, “And… I’m just ‘Jin.’ You don’t have to call me lord. I’m not… anyone special.” The honorific felt wrong, almost mocking, considering how powerless he actually was.

Kaoru let out a light chuckle at that. “If you insist,” he said, “though around Tachibana-sama we’ll keep it formal. She likes her… toys to be treated well.” The boy’s choice of word made Jin flinch—toys. Kaoru seemed to notice and opened his mouth as if to apologize or clarify, but just then a scuffling sound came from the doorway.

The shoji screen slid open partway, and another young man stepped through, carefully balancing a large tray laden with covered dishes. He was shorter than Kaoru by a bit, and looked a year or two older, perhaps mid-to-late twenties. His brown hair was messy and he had a dusting of freckles across his nose. The robe he wore was similar to Aika and Kaoru’s, though a bit askew like he had thrown it on in a hurry. He wore a nervous, concentrated expression as he maneuvered the tray through the door, using one foot to slide it open further.

“Toma, slow down,” Kaoru said, stepping over to help before any catastrophe could occur. The teen took the tray from the newcomer’s hands and set it on the table in front of Jin.

Toma (for Jin assumed this was the chef Aika mentioned) nearly dropped into a formal bow so low his nose almost touched the tatami. “L-Lord Jin! Forgive me—I mean, p-please enjoy this meal prepared for you!” he blurted out, words tumbling over each other. His face was flushed, perhaps from rushing over here or from the act of speaking to the guest directly.

Jin couldn’t help but smile a little. After dealing with a cosmic being who could crush him in an instant, seeing someone else more nervous than he was felt strangely endearing. “Thank you, Toma,” he said gently. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Kaoru rolled his eyes slightly at Toma’s dramatic bow, while Aika smiled kindly and beckoned Toma to kneel beside the table. He did so, beginning to unload the dishes with care. The aroma of the food reached Jin’s nose and made his stomach rumble loudly. Only now did he realize how hungry he was—he hadn’t eaten since… yesterday? Everything that happened blurred time, but it felt like ages.

One by one, Toma presented the dishes: a bowl of perfectly steamed white rice, a plate of grilled fish garnished with a sprig of green herb, a small bowl of miso soup with tofu and seaweed, and a selection of pickled vegetables. It was an incredibly normal meal. Jin stared for a moment, half-expecting something bizarre or otherworldly, but this could have come straight from a traditional Japanese kitchen.

“It’s… ordinary,” Jin murmured without thinking, a note of relief in his voice.

Toma froze, unsure if that was a compliment or not. Aika chuckled softly. “We find that normal food tends to be easier on newcomers. Not everyone takes well to demon realm cuisine, so we stay with what you’re used to, when possible.”

Jin nodded appreciatively. He picked up the provided chopsticks (lacquered black with tiny gold filigree—of course even simple utensils were opulent here) and hesitated a moment, the events of the day momentarily holding his appetite at bay. But the warm, savory smell was too inviting. He took a bite of the rice first. It was fluffy and slightly sweet, with just a hint of vinegar—cooked to perfection. A bite of the fish next—flaky, salty, with a touch of charcoal smokiness. The miso soup warmed him from the inside with its rich umami.

A sudden wave of emotion hit Jin as he ate: it tasted like home. It tasted like peaceful evenings at his grandmother’s house in the countryside, or small diners in the city after a long day. The simplicity and familiarity of the meal made his chest tighten. He realized tears had gathered in his eyes again, unbidden. Hastily, he wiped them with the sleeve of the robe before any of the servants could politely pretend not to notice.

For a short while, Jin focused on eating. Aika, Kaoru, and Toma stayed in the room but respectfully hung back near the walls, speaking in low whispers to each other when they did speak at all, giving Jin space. He was grateful; he needed the quiet. Each bite of food settled him, piece by piece, back into a state resembling normalcy. Or at least as close to normalcy as one could get here.

Maybe I can survive this, he thought between mouthfuls. If I just stay on her good side… if I don’t make her angry… But an opposing thought immediately rose: Is that any kind of life? Walking on eggshells around a tyrant who plays with you like a toy? His appetite waned slightly at that, but he forced himself to keep eating. He needed his strength, whatever came next.

He was halfway through the meal when an inexplicable sensation passed through him—a faint vibration, a hum in the air that made the hair on his arms stand. The lantern light in the room flickered. Jin paused, lowering his chopsticks. The servants all noticed it too: Aika’s head snapped up, Kaoru’s eyes darted to the door, and Toma nearly spilled the teapot he was holding.

Jin knew, instinctively, what it was. Or rather, who it was. A presence… heavy, oppressive and yet enticing, pressing against the edges of the room. The very walls seemed to tighten.

A moment later, one of the paper screen walls—one which Jin had assumed was simply part of the room’s perimeter—began to darken with a silhouette behind it. The screen then slid aside (despite no one visibly touching it) to reveal the immense form of Reika crouching just outside the room.

Jin’s breath caught in his throat. She hadn’t even used the door; she had simply made a door by reaching through the outer wall. Reality itself bent to accommodate her—as if the architecture dared not inconvenience her by trivial things like physical size constraints. In the golden lantern glow, Reika looked… otherworldly. She had donned a garment since leaving the onsen: a black silk kimono robe, much like the one she discarded earlier but simpler and loosely tied. It hung half-open, clearly an effortless, hasty dressing just to cover herself minimally. The robe slipped off one shoulder, revealing the flawless expanse of skin beneath, and it was parted at her thigh, showing a long stretch of her leg. Her damp hair was left to cascade wildly about her shoulders and back. Droplets of water still clung to her neck and collarbone, catching the light. She looked like some decadent, ancient spirit caught in the brief moment of stepping out of a bath—because, of course, she was exactly that.

Aika, Kaoru, and Toma immediately bowed deeply. Jin was too startled to move, frozen in place on his cushion with the bowl of rice still in his hands. His heart slammed against his ribcage. Had she heard? Was she furious? Or was this another casual visit?

Reika’s gaze swept the room and landed on him. She smiled slowly. “Well?” she purred, eyes flitting to the food. “Do you like the meal I arranged for you, Jin?”

Her tone was disarmingly normal, almost as if she were a host checking on her guest’s satisfaction. But Jin knew better than to trust normalcy with her. He carefully set down the bowl and rose to his knees, bowing his head slightly—not as deep as the servants he wasn’t sure his ribs would let him go that low even if he tried, but respectful enough. “It’s… very good. Thank you,” he said cautiously. His voice sounded so small in this room now that she occupied it.

Reika’s lips curved, pleased. “I’m glad.” She then seemed to notice the trio of her servants who remained in prostrate bows. Her eyes flicked to Toma, who was nearest and trembling slightly. “Oh? And who is this little mouse?” she asked, a lilting tease in her voice.

Toma visibly blanched even as he kept his head down. “Tachibana-sama,” he stuttered, “forgive me, I— I was just s-serving the meal, I—”

Kaoru intervened smoothly, keeping his tone respectful yet light, “This is Toma, Tachibana-sama. He’s the new chef’s assistant. I asked him to bring the food.” The teen raised up from his bow with practiced nonchalance, evidently knowing that someone had to speak or Toma might faint. There was a subtle boldness in Kaoru’s demeanor around Reika that Jin noticed with a bit of awe and worry—the boy had a glimmer in his eye, a hint of cockiness even as he remained reverent.

Reika’s attention remained on Toma, who had dared to lift his face just enough to peek at the goddess. She leaned forward a little, her enormous form still half outside the room. Even crouched, she had to stoop to peer fully in. The room itself seemed to expand subtly around her so that she could fit without utterly demolishing it, but she was definitely not a mere human size.

“I remember him now,” Reika mused, tapping her chin with one long finger. “You’re the one who cried the last week I spoke to you, aren’t you?” She said it sweetly, as if recalling a fond memory.

Toma’s face went ashen. “I-I… That was— the incense smoke got in my eyes, Lady, I—” he babbled, voice quivering. Clearly, he had indeed broken down in tears at some point in front of her, and he was terrified she held it against him.

“Of course it was the incense,” Reika cooed with a false sympathetic pout. Her eyes glinted with mirth. “Poor thing.”

Jin felt a spike of protective instinct toward the hapless chef. Toma’s fear was palpable; Jin knew exactly how it felt to be under that merciless gaze. He wanted to speak up, to draw her attention away from the man before she did something cruel, but a combination of caution and the throbbing ache in his chest kept him silent for the moment.

Reika’s hand appeared, reaching into the room. But not toward Toma directly—her aim was the tray on the table. With a single, deliberate motion, she extended one elegantly manicured finger and flicked the edge of the tray. The tray and all remaining dishes upon it clattered to the floor. The porcelain cup and bowls overturned, thankfully not breaking but rolling noisily. A bit of leftover soup splashed onto the mats.

The sudden noise made Toma flinch violently. He immediately scrambled on hands and knees to gather the fallen items. “F-Forgive me!” he blurted, assuming fault for the spilled contents as he hastily tried to right the tray.

Reika chuckled. “How clumsy of me,” she said, obviously untruthful. There was a predatory satisfaction in her eyes as she watched Toma panic. “I just slipped. You don’t mind cleaning that up, do you, dear?”

Toma was practically panting with nerves, bowing repeatedly. “Not at all, my Lady. I’ll clean it right away—I’m so sorry—”

As he fumbled to pick up the ceramic dishes, Reika’s foot—still bare—slid silently into the room behind him. Jin’s breath caught. She hovered her toes just above the trembling man’s back, close enough that a drop of water from her ankle fell onto his shoulder. Reika’s eyes flicked toward Jin briefly, gauging his reaction perhaps, then back to Toma.

The tip of her big toe almost—almost—touched Toma’s hunched form as he recovered the last bowl. She let it hang there, an inch from him, like a poised guillotine.

Jin couldn’t stay silent any longer. The memory of being under that foot, the helplessness, the humiliation—it spurred him. He pushed up from his cushion to his feet, ignoring the flare of pain in his side at the sudden move.

“Reika—” he said, more loudly than he expected, voice echoing slightly in the hushed chamber. He caught himself and added, “Please… stop.” He tried to keep his tone as respectful as possible, but it still came out with an undercurrent of plea.

Reika’s foot remained suspended. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Jin. One of her eyebrows arched, her expression caught between surprise and amusement. “Hmm?”

Jin swallowed but held firm. “He hasn’t done anything wrong,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. His heart was slamming against his ribs—what was he doing? Courting death, probably. But he pressed on. “He’s just a kid. You’re scaring the hell out of him.”

For a heartbeat, you could have heard a pin drop. Kaoru’s eyes went round at Jin’s boldness. Aika looked down, tense. Toma remained statue-still, hardly daring to breathe.

Then Reika… laughed. A soft, velvety chuckle rolled from her throat. She lowered her foot away from Toma—who promptly scrambled back out of reach—and shifted her whole body, turning to face Jin fully. Rising up from her crouch, she settled into a kneeling position closer to Jin’s side of the room. Even kneeling she was enormous, but now her attention was fixed solely on him.

“You object, do you?” she purred. “My little guest feels protective of the servants?” There was a dangerous lilt to her voice, though her lips were curved in a smile.

Jin felt a drop of sweat trickle down his back. His outburst had been impulsive; now he had to back it up carefully. “He’s… they’re helping me,” Jin said, a bit more quietly, glancing toward Toma who was now huddled behind Aika. “There’s no need to torment him.”

Reika’s eyes hooded. She tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to consider his words. “No need,” she echoed. “Perhaps not. But it is entertaining. You should see how expressive they get—the quivering lips, the wide eyes…” She sighed with mock satisfaction.

Jin’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “They’re not toys,” he said, a flash of anger heating his tone despite himself.

Reika’s gaze sharpened and for a second Jin feared he’d gone too far. But then she let out a lilting laugh. “Oh, Jin. Everything is a toy to someone like me.” She leaned in closer; Jin could see the gold flecks swirling in her irises. “But since you insist…”

She looked past Jin toward where Toma and the others cowered. She gave a small flick of her wrist, a gesture of dismissal. “Enough for now. All of you, leave us.”

The servants bowed hurriedly. Toma practically scampered out, clutching the tray to his chest. Kaoru offered Jin a sympathetic half-smile before he slid the door shut behind him. In moments, Jin and Reika were alone in the chamber.

Alone, save for the fluttering of lantern flames and Jin’s pounding heart.

Jin slowly sank back down to his cushion, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he held. Reika remained kneeling a short distance away, studying him.

He realized, somewhat belatedly, that this was the first time they truly had privacy since arriving in this realm. A knot formed in his stomach. Earlier in the onsen, there had been the water, the open sky—a sense of space even with her overwhelming presence. Here in this enclosed room, she dominated the atmosphere entirely. Every lantern flicker and shadow felt like an extension of her will.

Reika broke the silence first. “You have a soft spot for helpless creatures, hmm?” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “First you beg for the city of Kagetora, now my servants. Anyone else you want to save while you’re at it?”

Jin bristled at her wording. “I’m not begging,” he muttered. “I just don’t like needless cruelty.”

Reika’s eyes flashed with something like excitement at his defiant tone. She shifted her position, setting her hands on her thighs. “Needless? There’s always a need, Jin. Sometimes the need is simply my own amusement.”

He felt an edge of frustration. She was so blasé, so utterly unrepentant. Perhaps he had hoped, foolishly, that away from her audience of demons and mortals, she might show a crack of remorse or conflict. But no—she was completely at ease with her tyrannical whimsy.

Jin shook his head. “You enjoy it too much,” he said, echoing the words he had spoken to her once years ago when they played video games and she would gloat at every victory. But this was no game now, and the stakes were lives.

“Of course I do,” Reika replied instantly, unfazed. She rose up onto her knees to her full height—the top of her head nearly brushed the ceiling. Jin felt dwarfed, sitting at her feet. “Watching you all scurry and react… it’s charming. And instructive.” Her smile was equal parts seductive and menacing. “I learn what makes everyone tick. What they fear, what they value. It’s useful.”

Jin looked up at her, a mix of sadness and weariness in his gaze. “They fear you,” he said. “That’s obvious. And I’m pretty sure you know what I value by now.”

Reika’s expression softened a touch, a hint of genuine feeling slipping through. “Do you think I want them to love me?” she asked. “Fear is fine. Fear is reliable.” There was a flicker in her eyes—perhaps a memory or a buried hurt. “Love is fickle. Fear endures.”

Jin opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she truly believed that. If the girl he once knew, who had cried at sad movies and held stray cats in her lap, truly thought love was worthless. But he bit his tongue. That girl was gone, or at least deeply hidden.

Reika regarded him for a long moment, the silence stretching. Finally, she exhaled and rolled her shoulders, as if casting off an invisible weight. “Enough serious talk.” She waved a hand, and Jin flinched instinctively, but she only gestured at his half-eaten meal. “Finish your dinner. You’ll need your strength.”

Jin’s stomach twisted. “For what?”

A playful smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, who knows,” she said breezily. “Tomorrow’s a new day, full of possibilities. It depends how entertaining you prove to be.” She said it casually, but the underlying threat was there: if you bore me or defy me, bad things can happen.

Jin felt appetite flee entirely. Pushing rice around in a bowl while under the gaze of a predator was too much. But he forced himself to take a few more bites, if only to avoid provoking her further. The food tasted like ash now.

Reika watched with a pleased expression as he ate obediently. She remained crouched by the table, a living monolith at rest. Every so often, Jin glanced up and found her eyes fixed on him—bright, unblinking. The intensity of her stare made each mouthful feel like a performance on a stage. He set his chopsticks down after a token effort, bowing his head. “I’m done,” he murmured.

“Mmh.” Reika’s response was a low note of acknowledgment. A satisfied smile curled her lips. “Good.”

Before Jin could react, her hand appeared next to him on the floor. Those pale fingers, tipped in black nails, drummed once on the wood, then began to curl around him. Jin stiffened. It was not an attack, but a claiming. The enormous digits scooped him and the cushion he sat on off the floor with disarming ease. In a dizzying rush, he was lifted up into the air along with the silk cushion beneath him.

He gasped and grabbed the nearest thing—two of her fingers—as the ground dropped away. The cushion, fortunately, stayed under him as a buffer, but the sudden vertigo made his stomach lurch.

Reika rose to her feet smoothly, holding Jin at waist level like a trinket. Her other hand casually brushed aside a hanging lantern that was in her way, ripping the fixture from the ceiling rope. She paid it no mind as it shattered somewhere behind her; her focus was entirely on the small human cradled in her grasp.

Jin looked down and felt his head spin—the floor was a terrifying distance below, and he was pressed against Reika’s right hand, which supported his cushion seat. Her fingers curved around him in a loose cage. He realized this position was deliberate: she hadn’t scooped him into her bare palm like earlier. By letting him sit on the pillow, she avoided direct contact, making it marginally more comfortable for him while still completely controlling him. It was a subtle gesture of… caring? Or just practicality? Hard to say.

“You’re coming to bed with me tonight,” Reika announced, as if she were telling him the weather.

Jin’s eyes widened. “B-bed…?” His voice cracked. His thoughts immediately jumped to implications that sent a surge of both panic and something else through him. Surely she didn’t mean—

He looked up at her colossal face. She was smirking, clearly enjoying the flustered look on his face. “Wh-what do you mean?” Jin stammered. “Reika, I—maybe I should just stay—”

“You heard me,” she interrupted firmly. Her hand holding him drew a little closer to her body as she carried him toward the door. “Did you think I’d let you wander around my palace unsupervised? You sleep where I sleep, little Jin.”

He felt heat in his cheeks at the casual use of “little Jin,” said almost affectionately, like a pet name. “I—this isn’t necessary,” he tried to argue. “I won’t wander, I pr—”

Reika chuckled, a dark melodic sound. “No, you won’t,” she agreed with amused certainty. “Because you’ll be right next to me, where I can keep an eye on you.”

Jin’s heart hammered. There was no dissuading her. The more he protested, the more stubborn glee lit up her eyes. He braced himself as she slid open the door to exit his chamber. Going to her bedroom, he realized, wherever that is. The very idea made his pulse race in a confusing mix of dread and anticipation.

The palace halls were silent and empty now. Most servants likely kept out of Reika’s way at night, and any guards or creatures lurking stayed in the shadows. Reika’s footsteps were soft thuds as she moved through twisting corridors, carrying Jin effortlessly along. She hadn’t bothered to put on sandals or slippers; her bare feet padded on the polished wood floors without a sound, except for the slight creak of wood under colossal weight.

Jin found himself oddly hyper-aware of every detail: the way her robes shifted with each stride, the subtle scent of her—like night-blooming flowers and a hint of sulfur from the baths. His position at her waist level meant occasionally he was drawn near to her body, brushing against the fabric of her yukata. Once, as she turned a corner, the side of his face pressed momentarily into her hip, through the silk. He jerked back instinctively, and heard a soft giggle rumble above.

At length, they reached a grand double door engraved with elaborate patterns of swirling clouds and staring eyes. Reika pushed it open with her free hand. A rush of warmer air greeted them as she stepped inside her bedchamber.

Jin’s breath caught at the sight. The chamber was vast—far larger than his, and perhaps rivaling the throne room in sheer volume. Yet it was not an austere space. It was sumptuous and inviting in a way he hadn’t expected of a demon queen’s quarters. The floors here were dark polished wood partially covered by enormous rugs of rich crimson and black patterns. Tall columns held up a vaulted ceiling from which draped banners of black silk embroidered with golden motifs of dragons and moons. Braziers in the corners gave off a low, steady light that made everything glow in hues of red and gold.

And at the center, raised on a broad dais of lacquered wood, was a bed fit for a deity. It was more like a platform of cushions and silks—a positively sprawling expanse piled with plush bedding. Gauzy curtains hung from a canopy overhead, stirring gently in a breeze from an open window high above. Even from a distance, Jin could smell the subtle perfume of fresh linens and night air.

Reika carried Jin directly toward the bed. Each of her footfalls made the floor tremble faintly, a reminder of her unchecked power even in repose. She ascended the dais with a single step up. Standing beside the bed, she finally eased her grip and lowered her hand, allowing Jin and the cushion to slide gently onto the soft surface of the mattress.

Jin scrambled off the pillow onto his feet, wobbling slightly as the bed’s softness threw him off balance. Immediately, his boots sank into the surface—some kind of feather or down filling, layered thick. It was like standing on a firm cloud. The embroidered coverlet beneath him was a deep midnight blue with swirling gold designs that almost seemed to move like real smoke around his feet.

He looked up at Reika. She remained standing at the bedside, gazing down at him with an unreadable expression. In this setting, she looked every bit the goddess of the night: her dark yukata draping off one shoulder, revealing a smooth expanse of collarbone and the upper swell of her bosom; her hair cascading around her form; her eyes luminescent in the dim light.

Slowly, Reika climbed onto the bed. The whole structure barely shook—crafted, no doubt, to support her enormity without issue. She settled onto her side amid the pillows, propping her head up on one hand, her long hair fanning out around her. With the other hand, she casually reached out and plucked Jin’s only source of stability—the cushion he’d arrived on—from under his feet. Jin yelped softly and toppled forward onto the mattress as the cushion was whisked away. Reika tossed it aside behind her with a flick.

Before Jin could push himself upright, her hand returned. But this time, instead of grabbing him, her fingers nudged him, positioning him closer to her. Finally, they withdrew, leaving Jin lying against the warm front of her body—tucked just under her collarbone, partially nestled in the valley between her breasts. Through the thin fabric of her robe, he could feel the radiating heat of her skin and the steady thump… thump… of her heart, a slow and powerful rhythm that resonated through his whole frame.

He froze, acutely aware of every point of contact—his shoulder pressed lightly against the curve of one breast, his legs resting on the silk of her garment draped over her ribcage. It was a deeply intimate position, yet Reika’s demeanor suggested nothing overtly sexual. She cradled him there like one might hold a small child or a treasured pet close to the chest.

A long silence stretched. Reika seemed in no hurry to speak. She watched him with a heavy-lidded gaze, one finger idly toying with a lock of her hair. Jin’s mind raced and blanked all at once. What was he supposed to do or say now? The tension, the closeness—it was overwhelming.

At last, Reika broke the silence with a whisper: “You’re quiet.” Her tone was teasing, but soft. “That’s not like you, Jin. Did dinner tire you out so much?”

Jin licked his lips. His mouth had gone dry again. “It’s been… a long day,” he managed, voice hoarse. Understatement of the century. He swallowed, then added with a touch of wryness, “Being nearly stepped on can wear a guy out.”

A flash of white teeth showed as Reika grinned. “Ah, but you survived. And now look at you.” She shifted slightly, nestling him a bit higher against her chest. Jin slid an inch closer to her neck, now practically reclining against the upper slope of her breast. “All cozy with me. Do you know,” she mused, “how many men would kill to be in your position right now?”

Jin’s breath hitched. A potent mix of emotions churned inside him—flattery, fear, guilt. Yes, many men would indeed envy him; he was well aware how stunning Reika was. In another life, this closeness would have been the stuff of dreams. But those hypothetical men did not know the truth of this goddess the way he did. To them, she would be an ethereal beauty. To Jin, she was that and a harbinger of nightmares.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he murmured, eyes downcast. He couldn’t help the slight bitterness that crept into his voice.

Reika’s playful smirk faded. She tilted his chin up with the edge of one fingernail until he met her gaze. “No,” she said quietly, “you didn’t. But what does that matter?” Her eyes bored into him, luminous and unreadable. “Humans always think what they want is so important, that you get to choose what life hands you. Who touches you. Who keeps you.” Her voice was a low whisper now, dangerous in its intimacy. “You’re mine, Jin. By choice or not. You came into my world. You belong to me.”

A shiver rippled through Jin. There it was—her philosophy laid bare. In her mind, he was essentially property now, and his consent was irrelevant. Hearing it stated so bluntly should have ignited fury in him… yet something in her delivery, in that quietly possessive tone, left him more trembling than angry.

Reika’s finger, still under his chin, moved. She traced it down the side of his neck and along his shoulder. Jin tensed at the contact. It wasn’t painful—quite the opposite, it was gentle—but he couldn’t forget that same digit had pinned him hours before. There was a haunted familiarity to this moment: a giant girl running her finger along his body. Memory flashed of the onsen, of being stroked and examined.

Her nail slid down his arm and then she brushed the back of that finger along his side, almost a caress. Jin bit down on any sound that threatened to escape him. He could feel his skin reacting, a confusing mixture of goosebumps and flushed heat.

“You’re lucky,” Reika continued, voice dropping to a velvety murmur. “Lucky I don’t want more from you than this.” The implication hung heavy in the air. More? Jin’s mind conjured images he quickly batted away.

He must have shown his anxiety on his face, because Reika gave a soft, sultry chuckle. “Relax,” she practically purred. “If I intended to take you in that way, you’d already be naked, darling.”

Jin’s ears burned. He looked away, mortified, and caught a glimpse of her hand resting behind him. Her nails gleamed gold in the low light as she flexed her fingers. Those same fingers could tear his clothes off in an instant if she so chose, he knew.

But she didn’t. Instead, Reika’s touch turned almost contemplative. The pad of one finger traced a line down his back, following the curve of his spine through the thin robe he wore. Jin suppressed a shudder—it was like being petted by a creature that could crush him, a bizarre parody of affection.

She hummed thoughtfully, feeling the stiffness in his posture. “Still so soft everywhere,” she murmured. “Fragile little Jin.” Her fingertip circled against his back, and he felt a faint pressure, as if she were testing the give of his form. “You carry a tension in you… so out of place here.”

Jin couldn’t help a flinch as she hit a sore spot near his ribs—one of the bruises from earlier. Reika immediately paused. Her finger moved back up to his shoulder.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“You mean besides stepping on me?” Jin replied before he could stop himself. There was a bite in his tone.

Reika’s eyes flashed and for a moment he thought he’d done it—snapped her patience. But then she surprised him. She laughed softly and said, “Yes. Besides that.”

Jin hesitated, then admitted, “My chest is… a bit bruised, I think.”

A shadow of something like regret passed over her face. “I did press down hard, didn’t I?” she said, almost to herself, as if recalling a fond but unfortunate memory.

Jin exhaled slowly. “Just a bit,” he muttered.

Her amethyst eyes regarded him steadily. “I forget sometimes how delicate humans are. It’s been… a long time since I was one.” She leaned her head back against the cushions, gazing up at the ceiling draperies. “I barely remember what it felt like to be small and weak.”

Jin found a small opening in her words. “You do remember, though,” he said quietly. “At least a little. You’re remembering now, aren’t you? With me here.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, narrowing slightly. He wasn’t sure if he’d annoyed her or hit the mark. Maybe both.

“I dream sometimes,” Reika said abruptly, her voice different now—quieter, almost wistful. Jin listened intently, hardly daring to breathe for fear she’d stop. “I dream of lights. Neon signs everywhere, buildings of glass. The smell of the city—hot metal, concrete, sugar.” She spoke the words with a faraway look, like reciting lines of a half-forgotten song.

Jin felt a pang in his chest. Tokyo. She was describing Tokyo at night—the city they both once called home. The ache in her voice was subtle but it was there. She did remember.

Reika’s brow creased faintly. “And then I wake up in this world,” she continued, sighing. “And I’m still what I am now. I’m still better.” Her momentary nostalgia hardened back into confidence, maybe even contempt.

Jin lowered his eyes. Better. She truly believed this monstrous power made her life better than being human. Perhaps, to her, it did. After all, in their old world Reika had been… what? An ordinary girl, subject to the whims of others and the tragedies of life. Here she was near-omnipotent. It was intoxicating, surely.

Suddenly he was being lifted. Reika’s hand cupped around his back and bottom, raising him up along her torso. He ended up almost face to face with her, his feet resting lightly on the upper slope of her chest for balance. Her other hand came around as if encircling him, but she didn’t squeeze—she only held him like that, suspended before her eyes.

She regarded him like one might a rare, curious creature in hand. “Do you know why you’re still alive, Jin?” she asked softly.

He stared at her, mesmerized and afraid to move. “…No,” he answered honestly.

Her lips curved. “Because when I saw you in that shrine, you made me feel something I hadn’t felt in ages.” One corner of her mouth quirked wryly. “You annoyed me.”

Jin blinked. Of all the answers he anticipated, that wasn’t one. “Annoyed you…?”

Reika’s throaty laugh returned. “Oh yes. It was like hearing an old song that gets stuck in your head. Familiar, a bit irritating, but you can’t let it go.” She reached with her thumb and forefinger to tweak a stray strand of Jin’s hair, almost playfully. “You were a piece of something I left behind, and suddenly there you were, tugging on some distant memory. I kept you because I was curious. And maybe because you reminded me, in a faint, unpleasant way, of that weak little human I used to be.”

Jin felt a lump in his throat. There was a lot to unpack in that statement—her disdain for who she was, the fact that she kept him not out of lingering love or friendship, but out of curiosity and maybe a desire to torment that ghost of her past. It stung, but he also believed it might not be the whole story. She wouldn’t be opening up like this if there wasn’t more beneath.

He was about to speak—he wasn’t even sure what to say, but something empathetic was rising to his tongue. However, Reika suddenly yawned, a great full-bodied stretch that jostled him in her grip. Her fingers tightened instinctively around him so he wouldn’t fall as her body arched and relaxed.

“Ah, enough chatter. It’s late,” she murmured, voice sleepy and sultry. Her heavy-lidded eyes regarded him with a hint of fondness now. Perhaps talking about the past had drained her mood for the night.

Reika shifted to lie more fully on the bed, rolling onto her side and gathering the massive pillows under her head. As she settled, she lowered Jin from her hand onto the bed’s surface in front of her chest. Before he could get his bearings on the uneven, soft ground of the mattress, her arm came around him.

With a single motion, Reika scooped Jin against her, pulling him into the curve of her body. She curled around him in a loose embrace as she got comfortable under the silk sheets. Jin’s world became a wall of warmth on one side (her body) and the soft give of the mattress on the other. Finally Reika drew up the covers, draping a corner of the immense sheet over herself and incidentally partially over Jin like a heavy velvet canopy.

He was effectively tucked in with her. Pinned might be a better word, though she held him gently. Jin lay there stiffly, his back pressed to her sternum. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, slower now, and the strong drumming of her heart behind him. Her chin came to rest atop his head; it was surprisingly comforting, the way one might cradle a small animal.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” Reika whispered near his ear. “I’m a light sleeper. I’d hate to accidentally squeeze too hard if I felt something skittering away.” There was a thread of humor in her tone, but also an unmistakable warning.

Jin let out a shaky exhale. “Understood.”

She drew back, then, with one fluid motion, lay fully onto her back, pulling Jin along with her by the arm around him. Jin found himself suddenly sprawled half on top of her chest, much as he had been earlier in the onsen—only this time, they were on a bed, and she was not teasing in front of others. This was private, deliberate, and a hundred times more intimidating.

He tried to push up, to move off, but her arm kept him firmly in place, draped across her upper torso. He ended up resting with his head against her shoulder and the upper slope of her breast, his body against her side. It was like being next to a furnace—the heat of her, the steady powerful thrum of her heart against his arm, the rise and fall of her breathing lifting him slightly with each cycle.

“Hush,” Reika soothed, stroking his back with her hand in slow, broad motions. “This is where I want you. You’ll keep me warm tonight.”

Jin couldn’t help a half-choked laugh at the absurdity—she was the one keeping him warm, if anything. He was dwarfed by her body heat and size. But he didn’t argue. He was exhausted, and the bed was so comfortable, and her arm around him was… dare he think it… comforting. Like lying next to a tame tiger that might still decide to bite, but for now was content to purr by your side.

In the dim light, Reika’s features relaxed. She looked satisfied, content. One of her fingers idly tangled in a lock of Jin’s damp hair, twirling it. “My little Jin,” she whispered, almost too soft to hear. “Home at last.”

Jin closed his eyes at those words. His emotions were too tangled to parse—rage, sorrow, longing, fear, all knotted together. For now, he simply let himself be held. The steady rhythm of her breathing and heartbeat, the gentle caress on his back, gradually loosened the tight knots of pain in his muscles. He realized, distantly, that some magic in the bedding or her presence was easing his injury; his ribs hurt less as he breathed.

As he began to drift on the edge of sleep, Jin thought of the word respite. A brief respite—yes, perhaps that’s what this was. A moment of uneasy peace between storms. He’d have to face another day in this gilded cage come morning. But for now, here in the arms of a monster who was once the girl he’d cared for, he had no more energy to fight.

Whatever tomorrow brought—terror, sorrow, maybe even slivers of genuine connection—would come. He had survived this day, and that would have to be enough.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was the faint hope that somewhere inside the goddess holding him, the Reika he’d known still existed. And maybe, just maybe, that girl would keep him safe from the darkness around them, even if she herself was wrapped in it.

Reika watched as Jin’s breathing evened out and his body relaxed against her. She continued stroking him for a long while, eyes open and thoughtful, staring at the canopy above. Only when she was sure he was truly asleep did she allow herself to close her own eyes, a quiet sigh escaping her lips in the solitude of the grand, silent chamber.

Outside, the demon realm’s eternal night pressed on, but within the sanctuary of the bed, a twisted semblance of peace prevailed—for this night, at least. The goddess and her claimed companion lay entwined in a fragile calm, each haunted by what they had lost and what they had become, yet bound together by the resonance of a bond neither could fully sever.

Jin awoke to the scent of jasmine and something earthy-sweet. For a disorienting moment, he thought he was back home, that maybe he’d left incense burning overnight. Then reality crashed back in as he opened his eyes.

He was lying on the gargantuan bed, half-wrapped in a swath of silky fabric that had come loose—part of Reika’s robe perhaps. Reika herself was no longer holding him; in fact, she was not beside him at all.

He sat up with a jolt, heart pounding. Morning light—real, golden sunlight—filtered in through high windows now, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. It must be daytime, or whatever passed for it in this realm.

Jin’s eyes darted around. The space where Reika had been was empty, the sheets rumpled and pillows indented from her form. He was alone on what felt like an endless plain of bed.

A deep tremor suddenly vibrated through the mattress, like a mini-quake. Jin recognized it at once as the impact of a massive footstep on the floor nearby. He scrambled to his feet, still tangled in the robe fabric, and turned toward the sound.

Reika stood at the bedside, fully dressed in her queenly attire once more. The black furisode kimono with its opulent golden trims hugged her figure, every fold immaculate. Her long hair was brushed and pinned up loosely with a gold comb, and her face… had he thought she looked human and soft last night? Now she was every bit the radiant, intimidating goddess again, her eyes sharp and her lips curved in a knowing smile.

“Good morning, little thing,” she purred.

Jin had to shade his eyes; backlit by the sunbeam from the window, she was haloed in light, making her seem even more divine and unattainable. He found his voice after a moment. “Morning,” he croaked, before adding a belated, “Lady… Tachibana.” The honorific felt strange, but given the context, perhaps wise.

Reika blinked in mild surprise at the formal address, then chuckled. “How polite you’ve become.” She leaned down, her enormous face drawing close to the bed. “Did you sleep well?”

Jin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “I… guess so,” he mumbled. Aside from the nightmares of being chased by enormous shadows through endless corridors—which he decided not to mention.

Reika seemed to find the sight of him amusing. “You look a mess.” Indeed, his robe was wrinkled and he likely had pillow (or breast?) indentations on his skin. Meanwhile, she looked as pristine and composed as if she’d been up for hours. Maybe she had.

As Jin tried to straighten himself out, a gentle knock sounded at the chamber doors. Without waiting for Reika’s answer, the doors slid open to admit Aika, Kaoru, and Toma, all bearing items.

Aika carried a tray with an elegant tea set and some breakfast morsels; Kaoru had a folded set of clothes over one arm and a parasol in the other hand; Toma trailed behind with a large steaming basin of water and towels balanced precariously. They all approached the bed and bowed.

“Tachibana-sama,” Aika greeted, then smiled up at Reika. “We’ve brought the morning tea and meal as you requested, and some things for Lord Jin.”

Kaoru stepped forward and winked at Jin conspiratorially. “Good morning, Jin. We brought something to keep the Lady’s favorite pet alive and well,” he teased.

Jin managed a weak smile at Kaoru’s irreverence. It was oddly comforting to see some normalcy and routine amidst the craziness.

Toma carefully knelt and set down the basin, then approached Jin nervously with the folded clothes. He climbed the dais and offered the garments to Jin with both hands, as if presenting a sacred artifact. “L-Lord Jin, here… your clothes. They’ve been cleaned and mended.”

Jin realized with a start that the clothes Toma held were not the white robe he wore now, but his original outfit from the human world: his jeans, shirt, jacket, even his shoes. They looked freshly laundered and neatly pressed, the tears and dirt from the prior battles gone. Someone had even sewn up the ripped seam on his jacket sleeve.

He took them gratefully. “Thank you, Toma.” For the first time since arriving, he felt a wave of genuine relief. Changing back into his own clothes gave him a small sense of identity, of personhood beyond being a captive in a palace.

“Go on then, get dressed,” Reika said, gesturing indulgently. She didn’t even turn around or ask the servants to leave the room, demonstrating how little she considered modesty an issue for him. But Aika, courteous as always, turned her back and ushered Toma and Kaoru to do the same while Jin changed behind a screen they had brought with them.

Jin quickly donned his clothes. The fabric felt familiar, comfortable. When he stepped out, Aika was pouring tea into a thimble-sized porcelain cup (thimble-sized to Reika; to Jin it was like a soup bowl). The morning meal on the tray included a grilled rice ball, a small bowl of miso, and some pickled vegetables—a lighter fare for breakfast, but hearty enough.

Reika had seated herself seiza-style on the floor near the bed, which to Jin was still a raised platform above her by several feet. Even sitting, she was tall enough that Jin on the bed was at eye level with her.

Kaoru deftly carried the tray up to Jin’s “table” (one of Reika’s jewelry boxes repurposed as a makeshift low table to him) and set it before him. “Breakfast is served,” he said cheerily.

Jin took the tea with murmured thanks and sipped. It was fragrant and refreshing. Toma shyly offered him a hot towel to wipe his face and hands, which Jin accepted. Bit by bit, he felt almost human again.

“Don’t forget me,” Reika said pointedly, arching a brow at the servants. Aika immediately brought a larger pot and cup to her, and Kaoru offered a plate that in his arms looked like a huge platter, but in Reika’s would be a normal dish with a portion of breakfast foods.

Reika accepted her tea and took a slow sip, closing her eyes as if savoring it deeply. “Delightful, as always, Toma,” she said airily.

Toma bowed so low his hair flopped over his eyes. “Th-thank you, Tachibana-sama.”

Reika peered down at him. “My, you’re still jumpy. Did you not sleep well, dear?” The saccharine tone made Jin tense, knowing her penchant for teasing him.

Toma quivered, unable to find words. Reika leaned forward, a few locks of her dark hair cascading over her shoulder as she studied the boy. “If I recall,” she mused aloud, “I did give you a scare last night, hmm? Talking about stepping on you? How silly of me.”

Toma gulped audibly. “I-it’s alright, Tachibana-sama.”

Reika gently set her tea cup down, and with that same hand reached toward Toma. Jin watched, holding his breath, as Reika’s enormous index finger stroked under Toma’s chin, tilting his face up (much as she’d done to Jin last night, albeit with a far smaller target now). Toma’s eyes were saucers.

“You’re not frightened of me, are you?” Reika asked, voice like poisoned honey. “Surely not.”

Toma made a tiny squeak of negation, though his knees were nearly knocking together.

“Hmm.” Reika’s hum vibrated the floor. She slowly raised that finger from under his chin and instead tapped it lightly on the top of Toma’s head, like one might bop a child. “If I accidentally stepped on you right now—poof!—who would brew my tea as perfectly as you do?”

Toma froze, lower lip trembling. Aika shot Reika a nervous glance, and Kaoru bit his lip to hide a smile at the dark humor.

Reika waited a beat, then, seeing the poor boy on the verge of tears, she gave a soft laugh. “Relax, little one. I’m kidding.” She withdrew her hand and waved it dismissively. “Mostly.”

Toma exhaled shakily. Kaoru patted his back reassuringly as he retreated behind Aika.

Jin found himself shaking his head, half incredulous, half exasperated. “You really do enjoy scaring them,” he murmured to Reika before he could stop himself.

Reika’s keen ears caught it. She turned her gaze to Jin, who was munching on his rice ball. “And you enjoy scolding me, it seems,” she retorted, though without malice. “Would you prefer I coddle them? Perhaps I should bake cookies and sing lullabies.”

“What do you even eat, anyway?” Jin asked cautiously, picking at his rice without looking up.

Reika, lounging nearby with her legs elegantly folded beneath her, turned her head slowly. A smile curled across her lips—sharp, amused, and just a little too wide. “Humans,” she said. “Raw, usually. Depends on the mood.”

Jin froze mid-bite. Across the room, Toma made a strangled noise and nearly dropped the tea tray. Aika remained perfectly still, though her eyes flicked toward Reika in quiet resignation.

Reika let the silence stretch, watching Jin with open delight. “Relax,” she said at last, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. “Only on special occasions. Sacrifices, mostly. Ceremonial. I haven’t torn anyone apart for food in... oh, weeks.”

“That’s not comforting,” Jin muttered.

“You’re safe,” she said sweetly. “Probably.”

He didn’t respond. Just went back to staring at his soup like it might leap out and attack him. Reika’s laugh echoed lightly through the chamber, pleased and dangerous all at once.

Kaoru snorted under his breath at the mental image, quickly disguising it as a cough. Aika shot him a look and then announced, “Tachibana-sama, we’ve prepared everything for your tour today, as requested. We can depart at your leisure.”

Reika perked up, a sly smile growing. “Ah yes, the tour.” Her eyes slid to Jin, glittering. “I was just discussing with Jin how we might spend the day.”

Jin paused mid-sip of soup. He had a feeling this was going to be a point of contention.

“He didn’t get to see much of our demon realm yet,” Reika continued lightly. “And I think it’s time he got properly acquainted with the place where our little reunion began.”

Jin set down his cup carefully. “Reika… you mean…?”

She grinned, cat-like. “Kagetora. Don’t you want to see it in the daylight? Last time was so rushed.”

Rushed. That was one way to describe a night of terror and blood. Jin’s stomach churned. “I—no, I don’t think—”

“Shh.” Reika put a finger to her lips, then tapped it as if in thought, though Jin knew she’d already decided. “Yes, definitely Kagetora. They must be simply dying to see me again.”

Jin flinched at her choice of words. Possibly literally dying, if she had her way. He mustered his courage. “Reika, maybe… maybe just a quiet day? I mean, you said you were tired. We could… I don’t know, explore around here. Or you could show me some scenery. The cliffs, the rivers—”

Reika stared at him with a blank expression for a moment. Her face then split into a broad smile and a peal of genuine laughter spilled out. Aika and Toma looked perplexed, but Kaoru chuckled as if he was privy to an inside joke.

“Oh, Jin,” Reika said, wiping an imaginary tear again. “You are too transparent.”

Jin felt defensive heat creeping up his neck. “What?”

She leaned forward, looming over him a bit. “You think if we just wander around admiring scenery, I won’t kill anyone today. Isn’t that it?”

Jin’s mouth opened, then closed. He struggled for a delicate way to phrase it, but none came. “I… I mean, that’s not—I just thought—”

Reika tsked softly, and her giant hand came down behind Jin, not touching him but resting on the bed so that her long fingers curled around him on either side like the bars of an ornate chair. He suddenly felt very small and cornered (which, of course, he was).

She lowered her face until it was very close to him. Her breath was warm and smelled faintly of plum tea. “You’re hoping I’ll be a good girl today, hmm?” she murmured sweetly. “No more squishing armies or terrorizing villages… just a nice picnic with pretty views.”

Jin’s shoulders slumped. “Will you?” he asked quietly, meeting her gaze. “Please?”

Her expression flickered—just a tiny change, a little less amusement, a little more something else. She drew back slightly and raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor,” she declared, a mock solemnity in her tone. “I promise I won’t kill a single soul today. Satisfied?”

Jin scanned her face. She seemed earnest (as earnest as she got, anyway). Part of him dared to feel relief. “Really?”

Reika nodded, and then gave a dramatic sigh, hand to her chest. “Your words do reach me, Jin. Sometimes.”

He found himself letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. For what it was worth, he trusted her word at least literally: if she promised it, she probably meant it. The devil was always in the details though.

She didn’t keep him wondering long. In a sudden swirl of energy, Reika straightened up and… began to shrink.

Jin watched, jaw slack, as a faint aura of light shimmered around her. It was as if the space around her flexed and bent. One moment she was colossal, the next she was rapidly diminishing, her form condensing down like a star imploding in on itself. The sensation of air whooshing inward accompanied the magical transformation.

Within seconds, Reika stood on the floor at a much more human scale—merely a head taller than Jin now rather than a building taller. The room around them felt oddly bigger and the oppressive weight of her presence lightened (though didn’t disappear entirely; she still had an unsettling aura of power).

Jin gaped openly. “You… you can do that?!” Part of him was outraged—she could have shrunk at any time this whole while?

Reika flexed her fingers and rolled her neck, as if adjusting to the different perspective. She looked at Jin with a playful quirk of her lips. “Of course I can. You didn’t think I always stomp about like a giant, did you?” She winked. “I just like the theatrics.”

Jin made an exasperated sound. Unbelievable. All the times he’d been craning his neck and nearly being stepped on, she could have been at a normal size.

She must have read his thoughts on his face because she sauntered over and tweaked his nose lightly between her now-normal sized fingers. “Don’t look so cross. I’m sure part of you enjoyed being towered over,” she teased.

Jin swatted her hand away, face flushing. “Hardly.”

Reika just smirked. Then, in one fluid motion, she plucked something from Kaoru’s arm—the folded parasol. With a flourish, she snapped it open. It was of black silk with delicate golden patterns, matching her ensemble.

Kaoru bowed. “Will you require an escort, Tachibana-sama?”

Reika twirled the parasol once. “No, that won’t be necessary. We’re traveling light today.” She extended her free hand to Jin, palm up in an oddly polite gesture. “Shall we, Jin? A day out on the town, just the two of us.”

Jin eyed her hand warily, then decided it was better than being grabbed. He stepped onto her palm and she closed her fingers around his waist—but gently, and now only marginally larger than his own frame. She lifted him off the bed and set him down on the ground beside her. They now stood face to face, albeit she was still taller by perhaps a foot and a half, looking down at him with that insufferably charming grin.

It struck Jin that this was the first time since reuniting that they were almost at eye level. Seeing her like this, in human proportions, dressed elegantly and smiling, made a rush of memories flood back: walking home from school with Reika when they were teens, her holding an umbrella on a rainy day for both of them, laughing about some silly rumor. It made his heart ache.

Reika softened her smile for a moment, as if she too felt a tiny echo of those days. But then she spun on her heel, parasol resting on her shoulder jauntily. “Come along, then.”

With a wave of her hand, she made a slashing motion in the air. Jin felt a pulse, as though reality itself were sliced open. Before them, a vertical seam of light appeared mid-air and then yawned wide, forming a glowing portal.

Beyond the threshold, Jin saw a scene that made his blood run cold: a familiar city street with stone buildings, cracked pavement, and the hustle of villagers—Kagetora. It was like looking through a window directly into that world. The people on the other side didn’t seem to notice the portal yet, continuing their morning as usual in blissful ignorance.

“You… you have portals?” Jin asked weakly. This was a lot for one morning.

Reika winked at him. “How do you think I travel between worlds? Did you imagine I just walked everywhere? Oh I do enjoy a good walk from time to time—” she gestured to her heeled sandals which clicked on the floor—“but sometimes efficiency is key.”

She stepped toward the portal and the breeze from it ruffled her hair and the hem of her kimono. Jin stood at her side, peering into the opening. He could smell the city’s air: a mix of smoke from hearth fires and the aroma of street food cooking.

A combination of dread and weird excitement churned in him. He was going back to the city, but this time at her side, ostensibly not for a massacre.

Reika extended her arm, the one not holding the parasol, in a sweeping “after you” gesture. “Shall we sightsee, Jin?”

He hesitated, then nodded. There was no turning back. He just hoped she’d keep that promise and that his presence might temper her capriciousness.

Taking a deep breath, Jin stepped through the portal with the demon queen beside him, leaving behind the silken luxury of the palace for the sunlit uncertainty of the world outside. As the fabric of reality sealed shut behind them, he sent a small silent prayer to any benevolent force that might be listening: Please, let this day pass without bloodshed.

Reika twirled her parasol and flashed him a sideways smile—innocent to any onlooker, but knowing to him. The game was afoot, and Jin was both a player and the prize.

He squared his shoulders and walked with her into the bustling streets, the shadow of a goddess falling long and dark beside him, and the weight of her promise — fragile as glass — resting on them both.