A choked, pained cry ripped from the figure's throat:
"Ahh!!"
His head tipped back against the tree, breath breaking into sharp gasps, hand gripping Kirihito's shoulder to push him away — but Kirihito didn't move.
Black hair tightened around him like iron snakes. Bare legs locked around the figure's waist, squeezing mercilessly, pinning him completely. Venom mixed with blood, heat spreading under skin, burning like liquid fire.
And then — as if nightmare wasn't cruel enough —
the small white snake coiled at Kirihito's throat hissed sharply, tiny fangs sinking into the other side of the figure's neck.
"Wasn't one snake enough?!"
Xio's mind reeled in pain and disbelief:
"His venom… it's worse than anything he could imagine right now — it burns through veins, yet won't let me die… only suffer…"
His breathing grew ragged, vision blurring into black stars.
Blood dripped down his collar, staining dark robes, sticky and hot.
Kirihito's words echoed in Xio's mind, sharp as old steel:
"Torturing is more painful than death…"
Those same words once found scrawled in blood on the note at the crime scene in Bayakuya Village, beside a pile of headless corpses.
Kirihito's grip kept him upright, head tilted low, venom dripping from fangs.
Black veins crawled further up pale cheek, nearly reaching his lips. His free hand rose — nails black and curved like knives — resting over Xio's wildly beating heart.
Fingers dug in, skin parting under claws, ready to tear it out.
Inside Kirihito burned old disgust, hot as curse‑fire:
"Humans lie with pretty words… hands go to hips, proving desire… never truth…
Insects. Always insects…"
The figure's trembling lips parted, breath shaking between fear and pain:
"P‑please… let me… go… I… I can't take it anymore…"
In a raw, desperate instinct — not planned, not trick —
his hand managed to rose, trembling, not to Kirihito's hips, not to lips…
but to the back of Kirihito's head...which was almost tender...
Fingers slipped into cold, living black hair, palm cupping gently — as if steadying something fragile.
In that single heartbeat, Kirihito's thoughts caught, confused, raw:
"Back of the head…? That means… pure. Real. Not dirty. Not lust…
No words. Only skin and breath…"
The venom darkening his lips stopped dripping. Black veins receded, curling back under pale skin.
His jaws loosened, fangs pulling free from torn flesh — reluctantly, breath still ragged, mouth hovering close.
Blood trickled over the figure's collarbone, warm and wet.
Kirihito hesitated, breath slowing.
His head tilted, blindfold hiding half‑lidded eyes.
He leaned closer, tongue flicking, licking blood at the wound — slowly, gently.
The bite marks partly closed under his tongue, as if cursed venom could seal as it destroys.
A low, almost childlike purr slipped from Kirihito's throat. Black hair relaxed its grip around Xio's chest and waist.
He tilted his head again, a cat‑like motion — silent, wordless "more."
For the first time, Kirihito truly saw the figure's face.
The owl mask slipped free, clattering onto moss below.
It was Xio… the 2nd Grand Master of Lanxie.
Kirihito didn't know him — saw him for the first time.
But it fulfilled one of his demands: "show your face."
So he was… content.
Xio's gray eyes, glazed with pain, strands of hair sticking to his sweat‑wet forehead.
Mouth split and bleeding, chest rising hard, face pale from venom's burn.
Not as beautiful as Kirihito — but not ugly.
Something stubborn, alive, painfully human.
Kirihito's lips curled faintly, softer than before. His silent thought:
"Ah… so it wasn't ugly after all… I like pretty eyes… and hair…"
His warm breath brushed torn skin, slow and close.
"D… don't look at me like that… after biting until dead… it's strange…"
Xio whispered weakly, voice rough, still panting.
Inside, he cursed himself more than Kirihito:
"Why did I even throw that arrow at him when he was just resting on the Althea tree?
I called my own death… I've done raids before but never been beaten this badly…"
Kirihito hissed softly, but leaned again, licking blood away — sealing wounds, holding himself back.
The small white snake hissed too, then curled back at Kirihito's throat, calming.
Moonlight caught Xio's trembling lashes.
He held Kirihito's head a bit tighter, not pushing — steadying.
Then tried to pull away…
But Kirihito's black hair caught him gently, refusing.
Kirihito tilted his head in small, curious, cat‑like motions — wanting to feel more.
Silent language: "touch me here again."
A soft purr vibrated faintly between them, strangely innocent.
Xio stared, surprised by the quiet craving in Kirihito's purr — yet Kirihito's fangs still glinted, as if warning he could bite again.
Then, softly, Kirihito snapped back — almost mocking Xio's earlier words:
"What? Don't look at me like that…"
Xio huffed, turned his face aside, voice rough:
"Who's looking?… And stop copying me."
Kirihito pouted faintly, displeased by Xio's rough tone —
longing instead for the softer, poetic words from earlier.
"I'm not copying! I don't copy anyone… And look at me when talking… don't you know it's bad manners?"
" don't teach me..you're the one who needs to be taught.."
Xio said , kept his gaze turned away — and to Kirihito, it felt like a slap.
Nobody had ever dared refuse him — not victim or anyone . It boiled his blood.
A sharp hiss tore the quiet.
Kirihito's mouth opened wider, fangs flashing.
Black hair lashed out, grabbing Xio's ponytail, jerking his head back.
Xio gasped, wide‑eyed, heart plunging into panic:
"He'll bite again — now!"
The night hung breathless — venom, rage, and something deeper tangled between them.