(…2…) Fear


Warning: This chapter contains explicit rape, if you don't like it please skip it. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.


When she opened her eyes she didn't find any light which could give her an idea about the place she was in; there was no clear light from the moon to bathe her in silver, there was no gold sunlight to heat her cold hands. On the other hand, a simple movement, as light as a feather floating in the sky, was enough to make her feel how ropes were hurting her wrists. They were extremely painful, so much that she could barely stand it. Her skin ached and she was sure it showed its pain through a dark bluish color though she couldn't see a thing.

A remote steel sound caught her attention as an echo covered her senses. She would bet the metal belonged to a door; maybe it would be the one that could set her free.

She could hear a soft breath at the other side of the room. Then a weak light from a candle showed she could still see, luckily she wasn't left blind. Whoever it was, it came closer almost like a silent ghost with a little beam of light from the open door behind it.

When her eyes worked properly again she saw his silhouette standing in front her. Her breath suddenly stopped as her heart was useless in order to fade all her fears. She was getting frozen quickly because hell showed in front her, dressing Japanese clothes.


The night before, Hijikata Toshizou had had nightmares about demons and war. Even before he could fall sleep, there were plenty of things that seemed a prelude. For example, when he tried to drink a tea coup, the coup broke in a thousand pieces as soon as he tried to grab it.

It was still too early in the morning when he woke up. It was still dark and silent. He lied down on his futon and he though there was something wrong. The old cherry tree painted on the wall in front him looked less colorful; it seemed to wither, doomed to misfortune. A kanji to the right of the tree looked gloomy, like if it tried to drown every flower with its jet-black ink.

He didn't feel sleepy at all but the lack of rest showed under his eyes. The lieutenant got up from his still warm futon. He was willing to do a "nocturnal" tour towards the kitchen in order to find green tea smell and give himself some joy.

He put his shoes on and took a housecoat to keep himself from the cold. His hair was neat as always, but his angry appearance made his eyes shine. He took out his hair from his clothes and immediately recovered his chilling demon façade, carrying his swords at each side of his body.

Every room was dark and he could listen to loud snores and other weird sounds; they managed to get a smile out of him and then it died on the corner of his mouth. From time to time, the wood creaking betrayed his ability but shortly after he was able to keep his way in silence again.

When he arrived to the end of the corridor, the samurai noticed something suspicious outside the room of the only female member in the headquarters. Like if it was a magnet, he decided to have an ephemeral look inside it and admire the peace decorating her face with taciturn sleeping.

The door was already opened and a chill went through his back.

His steps turned larger and more accurate. He came in but the messy futon was a bad signal for him. Hijikata tried to keep calm. What if the girl had woken up earlier in order to make whatever duty she had. He searched slowly in each room, in each corner from the garden, even in the street (not caring a thing about the curious eyes upon him). He searched everywhere around but there was no trace of the girl.

A red ribbon was left on the floor, just outside Chizuru's window. It was stuck in a little ditch and frayed after every movement. He picked it up, feeling anguish running through his whole body.

"Chizuru!"


He closed the door behind him and shortly after the creak became a memory she wished she could forget. He cut the distance with small steps but audible enough like dragging chains. Chizuru could see around due to the faint beat coming from the candle; the floor was covered with mud and there were leaks everywhere, the perfect image of a medieval dungeon

He stopped in front her; the tallow of the candle drew a straight path from her feet until her chest. When it dried it looked like a spider web that was weaving her haori.

Kazama sat down next to his prisoner, close enough to see her still reddish cheeks. He touched her hair and then he went down to her cheeks. Chizuru felt his big and soft hands onto her skin. Kazama loved teasing her.

"From now on you shall be mine, oni woman," he said.

Chizuru tried to reply but her words died on her throat even the gag on her mouth couldn't allow her to make any sound. Kazama took the opportunity given from a speechless Chizuru to carry her in his arms. He walked with her until an old bed and he laid her down. Her hair was extended like wings ready to fly out over the sky. Shortly after, the golden haired demon sat down on the border, admiring her beauty in the dark.

If it hadn't been the fact that his ambition was stronger, he would've tried to win her heart by more traditional -even gallant- ways. If he weren't a demon, he could've tried to be a gentleman that gives kisses in the hand and roses in the morning. If he had been human, maybe her brown eyes full of fear would've made him regret for what he was about to do.

Kazama introduced a hand within the pinkish haori. The action forced her to move with violence but the force he used against her made her blood run through the ropes.

She could see Kazama's insane smile; it was scarier than what she could remember. It was displaying his oni blood that ran through all his veins. He paused a few seconds. The obi and the gag, that censured her words, fell far away from her glance.

Soon, Chizuru was dressed only with her underclothes. It was really cold; she wanted to find a shelter away from it but the warm crimson on her cheeks was expanding all around her body until her fingertips.

Her last cloth slipped down through her toes and finished in the end of the bed.

"This has gone too far! Let me go Kazama-san!" she begged.

Kazama descended and laid his head between Chizuru's bosoms.

She was scared, beyond her bosoms he was smiling like the devil.

He drew a warm path with his saliva through her abdomen, burying his tongue in her belly bottom. Despite the force imposed on her members, Chizuru couldn't avoid that her femininity was exposed before the eyes of Kazama. His tongue touched the corners of his lips, tasting a forbidden sweet flavor. So, he brought his head to the crotch of Chizuru, drinking the juice with the taste of her essence on it.

"Stop it! Please stop it!" she asked for. Her screams were turning madder and louder in vain; he was cruel and distant by touching all her skin like a waterfall's torrent.

His mouth was an expert in pleasing her wildest instincts. She felt the heat inside her. The golden haired oni made her doubt about her own dignity.

If someone had asked Yukimura Chizuru about who she expected to be the first, she wouldn't have to think so much to answer softly and timidly, Hijikata Toshizou. After each day of living in Shinsengumi headquarters, she could agree with her innocent imagination, feeding it with sighs every time she picked up the empty cup of tea from Hijikata's desk; then, she finished deprived of her dreams and demoralized, being a porcelain doll. But the image of Shinsengumi's lieutenant refused to go away. He was always in her dreams trying to reach her trembling hand. He was always in her mind asking her not to lose her dignity because, he, Hijikata Toshizou was going to rescue her soon. There was no doubt.

Chizuru raised her arms just enough to scratch his face. Kazama withdrew his right hand from her hip to put it on his face. Little crimson drops fell down in the form of rain across his cheek, divided by a thin cut barely visible. Chizuru immediately took the opportunity to catch her breath and cover her pelvis with the legs.

A crimson drop came to his lips and it extended over his warm tongue like a toast. That was the drop that spilled the cup.

A slap pulled the tears off from her eyes and spilled them on the floor. Her lips were beating painfully and at the same time her eyes dilated in fear. Chikage stripped his clothes quickly; his nudity was celestial to speed up the beats from her still scared heart.

Her knees were forced to collapse, hitting the bed so hard as wood without compassion.

The first assault was quick and very strong and it sank her further into a dark sea where air was a deadly poison. Kazama didn't stop, he went on, completely driven by anger. Then, pain blinded her completely. Her precious innocence was fading away after every hit inside her dephts. The petals of a rose were withering at the mercy of winter.

The bed shook under them like a chill down her own spine. The hard blow of their hips was accelerated and crashed like the ocean against the rocks; a cynical ritual that brought more blood, blood running in the middle of her thighs that cried all over her legs.

Chikage bit his lips, allowing his pleasure been heard through a moan. His pleasure was too much to keep it in secret and the honor of being the first man in her made that moment so divine that challenged the Lucifer.

Kazama wanted to listen to her yelling. She was silent with her face staring to a wall. She didn't want to make a sound. The girl didn't wish to lose her dignity.

"Hmp," he grumbled completely furious.

His movements speeded up; he took them to a wild rhythm. Chizuru brought her hands to the sides of the bed, squeezing the thin sheets impregnated with dampness, trying to convince herself that it wasn't actually happening. She focused all her strength into it, but it was difficult to keep pretending that her body wasn't been tainted from within.

A tear slipped like shooting star and fade away over her collarbone in a million fragments. Shortly after, she felt an orgasm contracting her walls and filling her body with a warm liquid.


Outside their headquarters, Shiranui waited overdone on a tree. He was standing alone with a dance from the cherry blossoms below his feet. His hair moved slowly while the shine of his gun emphasized on the tree's top, like a lost star in heaven.

A scream burst in the calm of that taciturn evening. It immediately turned off the beautiful light from the cicadas like a candle that dies at wind's yell. He ran his eyes up to the sky. The moon was smiling as it covered itself with a purple veil.