Author's note: This fic is based solely on the anime, not the manga. I did a quick search for other fics with Mizuki and I couldn't find this particular pairing, but if I overlooked something, let me know. I definitely want to give credit where it's due. Also, in the world of this fic, Mizuki does NOT try to rape Nanami after he abducts her—he just begs her to stay with him and that's when Tomoe busts in and rescues her.

This is still a little rough, so I might refine it a bit later if people like this idea/pairing. Let me know what you think. The scene between them in Ep 11 is one of my favorites and I think they had some good chemistry. (Update: I finally got around to revising this!)

Acknowledgement and disclaimer: There is a quote here that was taken directly from the English translation of the anime on the official U.S. DVD. I own nothing!

Ever since his trip to the city, Mizuki had been thinking all kinds of strange and new thoughts. Even though he'd finally come to terms with the demise of the Yonomori Shrine and realized he'd have to make a new life for himself, he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. Not long ago, the solution had seemed so simple: kiss Nanami, become her familiar, and make Mikage Shrine his new home. But now he wasn't so sure. For the first time, he began to doubt everything he thought he knew about his existence. Why am I here? he wondered. Why did Lady Yonomori make me promise to go on without her? Can it be that I have some other purpose in this world? Turning these questions over in his mind, he took a good, long look at himself and began to truly see both his limitations and his strengths. Some other purpose . . . something yet to do . . . to feel . . . to experience . . . I've locked myself up for so long . . . .

Somehow, despite everything, a curiously warm feeling began to grow in his heart . . . he didn't know it, but it was the feeling humans called 'hope'. This new feeling compelled him to secure an invitation to another of Kurama's high-profile parties. Maybe that world will never really be my world, he thought, but if it's the world humans live in now, then I have to get used to it. Unlike others of his kind, he knew from bitter experience that the very existence of the gods depended on humans. And if humans were beginning to lose faith in the divine, then it was up to him to do something about it. He might not be able to bring Lady Yonomori back, but in his own small way, maybe he could make a difference in the mortal realm. He owed it to Lady Yonomori—no, he owed it to himself—to try. And a very secret part of him, a part that he didn't even dare to think about, wondered whether his destined bride was out there in the human world. In the depths of his soul he longed for love with an intensity that threatened to destroy him . . . and for reasons he couldn't yet admit to himself, he found his thoughts drifting more and more toward a certain girl from the country . . . .

x-x-x

Ugh, Mizuki thought as he surveyed the room, why was I so eager to come here? I can feel the oppressive aura of the city even more strongly at this—this—"launch party" or whatever they call it. He glanced over at Kurama, who was sweet-talking a starlet in the corner. How can he stand it? He sighed. Well, he's had plenty of time to get used to it, I guess. Maybe he was bothered just as much as I am when he first came here. He scanned the room again and his eye fell on the bar. Aha, he thought. Time for me to start helping the humans. Gliding through the crowd as smoothly as a snake, he made his way to one of the bartenders. "Kurama-sama requested me to bring a special sake to this event. Could you please see to it that everyone gets a taste?" Within moments, his sake was circulating among the guests. Mizuki watched with satisfaction, nursing private thoughts, when suddenly a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Aw, I'm so glad you brought your sake again! It sure worked some real magic last time!"

Mizuki turned to see her.

At once he knew the real reason he'd come. He was an expert at lying to himself, but one glimpse of her honest beauty forced him to admit the truth. So there really is such a thing as love at first sight, he mused. Or was it love at first sense? I can sense her spirit even more clearly than I can see her face. . . .

The girl rushed up to him with gleaming eyes, then blushed. "Um—b-begging your pardon, your lordship . . . I know I shouldn't just walk right up to you like this, seeing as how you're a . . . you're a . . . um, you know. It's just that there's something about you that . . . that . . . ."

"That what?" he asked with a reassuring smile.

"That feels like home," she blurted, then giggled to cover her embarrassment. "S-sorry . . . ."

He laughed with her. "No need to apologize. Believe it or not, I feel the same way about you. Where exactly are you from?"

"Aw, it's a long ways from here, near some place that got flooded a long time ago. My granny said there used to be a shrine there. I sure would have liked to see it . . . I guess I'm an old-fashioned girl, but I just love shrines."

Something in him tightened at her words. "Do—do you happen to remember the name of the shrine?"

"Let's see . . . it was . . . Yono . . . Yonomori Shrine, I think. Granny said it was the shrine of a water goddess."

Lady Yonomori . . . . The mere mention of her sacred name seemed to invoke her presence. Was it his imagination, or an illusion of his own desire? Somehow, he could hear her voice in his heart: "Go on, Mizuki. Don't be afraid. This girl needs you too. Your future awaits."

He drew a shaky breath and stammered, "W—would you like to step outside for a little while?"

"Oh, sure, but—but sensei'll be all kinds of mad if I disappear on her . . . ."

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, relieved that she had no other objections to being alone with him. "My sake's already doing its job."

She looked around and saw everyone getting along in perfect harmony. Even her boss was now as gentle as a lamb.

"Come," he said, and took her hand. Have I ever touched a human like this? he wondered. She feels so warm and comforting . . . .

"Ah, this is much better, isn't it?" he remarked as they stepped out on the balcony.

"It sure is," she said. "You can sure breathe freer out here!"

Drawn by her spirit, he gazed at her in awe. What is such a beautiful soul doing in the Demon Capital? He had asked her before why she chose to remain in Edo, but her motives remained unclear to him, though her courage was apparent. After a moment of silent contemplation, he ventured: "Tell me, why do you want to be an actress? Why do you even want to be in Tokyo? I'm sure you miss your home and your grandmother."

She grinned at him, though there was a flicker of sadness behind her smile. "Home? I ain't got a home no more, and my granny's long gone. It was just us two, and when she passed on, I couldn't afford to keep the cottage, so I came here. Sure, I miss it . . . I miss her, I miss everything . . . but she wouldn't have wanted me to stick around back there trying to hold on to something that was already gone. You know what I mean?"

"Yes," he replied with a hint of regret. "I know what you mean."

She laughed gently. "I figured you'd understand. As for why I want to be an actress, well . . . ." She paused and leaned back, looking up at the stars. "When I was back home and times were tough, I used to turn on the TV and forget about things for a while. Movies, dramas, soap operas . . . I loved 'em all. They made me happy, even if only for a little while, and after watching that stuff I felt stronger or better about myself somehow. So I reckoned if I could do that for people—if I could make them forget their troubles, even for just an hour or two—make 'em believe in themselves a little more—well, there wouldn't be no better job than that, would there?"

Mizuki stared out into the cityscape. "You're so far above me. Your heart embraces the whole world, doesn't it?" he said quietly, as if to himself.

"Y-your lordship? Um, I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said. Sensei always swears I'm half deaf," she joked. She was clearly lying to protect him, to give him an opportunity to cover for himself. She truly is sensitive to others, he thought with a smile. I have a lot to learn from her. Out of respect for her efforts, he followed along and changed the subject. "I hope things are working out for you," he said. "I don't know much about show business, but from what I understand, it can be pretty brutal."

"It sure can," she admitted, "but in a way I'm glad about that, because it just makes me want to try even harder. My granny used to say that anything easy to do probably isn't worth doing. Sure, sensei treats me like dirt, but for all that, she really is an amazing actress. I get chills just watching her rehearse! I watch her as often as they'll let me because I want to learn as much as I can . . . and you know what? Someday, someday, it'll be me in front of that camera. I know I'm a country girl, I know what they say about me, and I know I'm a long way from the top, but I ain't gonna run from anyone. I'm gonna show 'em all what I've got." She turned toward him and he saw a flash of divine brilliance in her eyes. Suddenly he realized: She's a goddess. In her own way, she's a goddess too. Before he knew it he was holding her in his arms, both protectively and reverently, as a familiar holds the goddess he serves. "This is my way of showing respect of the highest order," he murmured. Then he kissed her.

It was his first real kiss; in fact, he had never even fallen in love before. What he had felt for Yonomori was childlike devotion . . . what he had felt for Nanami was a misguided crush born out of despair. This was different—so different and new that he couldn't put his feelings into words or even sort them out. But he didn't care. He had moved beyond thought, beyond logic, beyond any emotion except the pure desire to unite with this girl forever—to serve her and love her until the end of time. He pressed her to him gently, relishing the warmth of her body, and his lips fell into a slow rhythm against hers. Being a snake, he couldn't help slipping her the tongue—it seemed perfectly normal to him, but she moaned softly and pulled away, blushing furiously.

"P-please, your lordship," she protested, "I know what you are, and I know I've been talking all high-and-mighty about how tough I am, but I ain't the kind of girl who—who—what I mean is—I ain't never had a boyfriend, so don't go thinking you can just—"

"Kamisama," he whispered, looking into her eyes, "I've never—that is—I . . . . That was actually my first real kiss."

She stared at him.

He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair in a shy, apologetic gesture. "Forgive me," he said simply. "You told me your story, and now—now I guess it's time to tell you mine. Th-that is, if you'd like to hear it."

Slowly, she nodded her assent. "Yeah, I would. And somehow," she added, half to herself, "I have a feeling that I should." She took his hand. "So go on," she said softly, "and tell me all about it."

Her touch—that warm, comforting, human touch—gave him courage. The future was unknown, but he finally knew he could face it. Weaving his fingers through hers, he smiled at her, and began: "A long time ago, there was a shrine to the Lady Yonomori . . . ."