I stared at the bloodstained sheets for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. The dragon's blood in my veins humd with satisfaction, like it had claid sothing precious, and that thought made my stomach twist.
A soft knock at my bedroom door made freeze.
"Young master?" Hayama's voice, carefully neutral as always. "Breakfast is ready when you are."
"Just... give a few minutes," I called back.
"Of course, sir." A pause. "I took the liberty of having the housekeeping staff begin their duties on the second floor this morning. They'll attend to the first floor later."
The first floor. Where my study was. Where we'd started last night before sohow ending up here.
My face burned. Of course Hayama knew. The man had been running this household for decades—he probably knew everything that happened under this roof. Including the fact that I'd apparently lost my mind and slept with an SS-class criminal on my desk.
"Thank you, Hayama," I managed.
"Also," his voice continued through the door, still perfectly professional, "I've taken the liberty of disposing of any... paperwork that may have been damaged during last night's... late work session."
Jesus Christ. He really did know everything.
"I appreciate your discretion."
"Always, young master."
I stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as I could stand it. As the water hit my skin, more mories surfaced. The way Kuroka had shivered when I touched her. The sounds she'd made. How she'd whispered my na like a prayer.
And the hunger. God, the hunger that had consud us both. Like nothing I'd ever experienced before.
I was no virgin in my previous life, I'd had my share of experiences. Nothing spectacular, but enough to know what I was doing. College hookups, a few relationships that lasted more than a month. I thought I understood physical intimacy.
But Leon Mishima had been a virgin. Seventeen years old, wealthy heir, too busy with corporate training and supernatural politics to pursue anything beyond polite conversation with girls at formal events.
Last night was my first ti in this body. And sohow, despite the confusion and the supernatural compulsion that had driven us both to madness, it had been...
Better than anything I'd ever experienced in either life.
The thought made feel guilty and exhilarated in equal asure. Whatever had happened between Kuroka and , whatever primal force had taken control, it had been intense beyond anything I could have imagined
The Dragon's Elixir was just supposed to enhance my physical abilities, grant draconic strength and healing. But this? This felt like sothing else entirely. Sothing primal that had taken over the mont I'd touched her.
Dragons were territorial creatures. Possessive. And apparently, that extended to more than just hoarding gold. Even now, thinking about it made my pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with embarrassnt.
"Fuck," I muttered, running both hands through my hair. The elixir had changed more than I'd realized. More than I'd wanted it to.
I forced myself out of bed and headed for the training room. Ever since the Shinjuku Incident, my daily sessions with Azazel had stopped. Not that I could bla him—after seeing what I was really capable of, he probably figured there wasn't much left he could teach .
Besides, I was still angry at him. He knew that. I'd made damn sure he knew that.
I closed my eyes and reached into the Celestial Workshop, letting the familiar scenery surround .
I checked my current projects, watching the tirs countdown. Still days and weeks left for most of them. The Sacred Gear Extractor, E.V.E., the enhanced NZT formula.
=====
Sunday morning arrived with clear skies and the kind of crisp air that made Tokyo look almost peaceful. I stood outside the small café in Shibuya, checking my phone for the third ti in five minutes.
A date. With Koneko.
"You're early," ca a familiar, quiet voice.
I turned to find Koneko approaching, and my breath caught slightly. She wasn't wearing her usual school uniform or the simple clothes I'd grown used to seeing her in during our lunch breaks. Instead, she had on a cream-colored sweater that looked impossibly soft, a pleated skirt, and knee-high socks. Her white hair was styled differently too—still short, but with a small clip holding back her bangs.
She looked... beautiful and cute.
"You look beautiful,"
A faint blush colored her cheeks. "Thank you." She paused, golden eyes studying my face with that intense focus she sotis got. "You sll different today."
My stomach dropped. Of course she'd notice.
"Different how?"
Koneko tilted her head, that cat-like gesture I'd grown fond of.
"Familiar," she said finally, but she didn't elaborate. Instead, she looked up at the café's sign. "Is this where we're eating?"
I glanced at the nu posted in the window, noting her sudden attention. "Actually, I was thinking we could explore the food district. I heard there's a place that makes the best taiyaki in Tokyo, and there's a ran shop that's supposed to have a secret recipe..."
Koneko's eyes lit up—the most animated I'd ever seen her. "Food tour?"
She stepped closer, slipping her hand through my arm with more enthusiasm than I'd expected. "There's also a wagyu stand in Shibuya that only opens on weekends. And a crepe shop that makes seasonal flavors."
As we started walking, I couldn't help but smile. This was a side of Koneko I'd never seen before
"So where do we start?" I asked.
She was quiet for a mont, then looked up at with those golden eyes. "Taiyaki first. Then we work our way through the district." A pause. "If that's okay with you."
"Of course."
=====
The taiyaki stand was tucked between a clothing shop and a small bookstore, steam rising from the griddle where an elderly man carefully filled fish-shaped molds with sweet red bean paste.
"Two taiyaki, please," I said to the vendor, who nodded.
Koneko stood beside , and I noticed how she was practically vibrating with anticipation.
"First ti here?" the old man asked as he handed us the steaming pastries wrapped in small paper bags.
"For him,"
"Months?" I raised an eyebrow as we moved away from the stand.
She took a careful bite, eyes closing briefly in what looked like pure bliss. "Heard the other girls talking about it. Never had reason to co to Shibuya on weekends before."
I bit into my own taiyaki and nearly groaned. The elderly vendor knew his craft—the exterior was perfectly crispy while the inside was soft and warm, the red bean paste sweet but not overpowering.
"Good?"
"Amazing," I said honestly. "Where to next?"
"Takoyaki."
As we walked, she stayed close to my side, occasionally bumping my arm when she got distracted by a particularly interesting sll or sight. It was endearing how animated she beca around food.
The takoyaki vendor was a middle-aged woman with flour-dusted hands and a warm smile. She drizzled sauce over the octopus balls with artistic precision, sprinkling bonito flakes.
"You two make a cute couple," she said as she handed us our order. "Young love is so sweet."
Koneko went very still beside , her face turning pink. I cleared my throat.
"Thank you," I said, accepting the takoyaki and leaving it at that.
We found a small table at a nearby standing area, and I watched as Koneko carefully blew on her first piece before taking a bite. The expression of pure contentnt on her face was worth the price of admission alone.
"Leon," Koneko said quietly, pulling from my sensory analysis.
"Yeah?"
She was looking down at her food, golden hair falling to partially hide her face. "Can I ask you sothing?"
"Of course."
"Your sll…" she paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. "It reminded of soone. Soone I haven't seen in a long ti."
"Soone important?" I feigned ignorance.
"My sister. We were... separated when we were younger." Her hands tightened slightly around the takoyaki container. "She's SS-class wanted by the devils now. For killing her master."
The pain in her voice was subtle but unmistakable. I set down my food, giving her my full attention.
"She killed our devil master." Koneko's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was confusion in it. "Everyone says she went mad with power, that nekomata aren't ant to use senjutsu. That it makes us lose control."
"And you? What do you think?"
Koneko was quiet for a long mont, staring down at her food. "I don't know," she finally whispered. "Kuroka always told never to use senjutsu. Said it was dangerous for our kind. But then she..." Her voice trailed off.
Koneko's fingers curled slightly under mine. "Sotis I dream about her. Wonder where she is, if she's safe, if she thinks about too." She let out a shaky breath. "Yesterday, for just a mont, I thought I caught her scent. But that's impossible. She wouldn't co near Kuoh."
"Maybe," I said carefully, "she's closer than you think. Maybe she's watching out for you in ways you don't realize."
Koneko's eyes searched my face, and for a mont I worried she could see right through . But then she nodded slightly.
"Maybe," she whispered.
"Co on," I said, standing and offering her my hand. "Let's find that wagyu stand you ntioned."
A small smile tugged at her lips as she took my hand. "It's this way."
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