Feyren and I have finals soon, so updates will slow.


Tezuka gaped. "You –"

"I'm a succubus," Fuji confirmed, smilingly. "Would you like some tea?" He waved his hands, and instantly, a teapot and several dainty teacups appeared.

Just play along, Tezuka told himself. This couldn't possibly be… "It would appear that you're a magician as well," he said.

"Oh, no," Fuji said, waving the silly thought away. "All succubae have a few supernatural abilities. I can conjure things. Gakuto's a mind reader, and Yukimura has telekinesis." He spoke about it as simply as one might have spoken about the weather. "The real magician is Marui. He can make things disappear." Fuji smiled slowly. "It's proven to be a very useful tactic."

"Who are all these people?" he asked. Fuji studied him for a minute, then broke into a smile.

"Oh, you wouldn't be able to see them. Not yet, anyway." Fuji poured a cup of tea. "You can't see other succubae unless you've been marked – the only one you can see is the one you were selected to be with." Here, Fuji handed him the teacup and tilted his head to one side. "It's warm. Do you like your tea with sugar? I like mine with wasabi."

Tezuka frowned at the odd food choice, but refrained from commenting. "Who 'selects' these things?"

"No one," Fuji replied, shrugging. He managed to make the casual gesture seem oddly elegant, and prepared to pour another cup of tea. "It's pre-determined, I think. I never actually thought about it. Think of it as a soulmate. It's all wonderfully romantic." His voice and tone were all very childlike, and his eyes widened at the prospect of romance.

Yes, a migraine was definitely coming on. "And these others: Gakuto, Yukimura, Marui – they're your… friends?"

"Why, yes. We're all succubae. And they're all very beautiful. Do you find me beautiful Tezuka-sama?" he asked coyly.

"I…" Yes, he wanted to say, but knew better than to. Something was off – this couldn't have been right. Fuji – if that was his name – appeared much too confident in himself for it to have been his first time with a "soulmate." He was ethereal, strangely beautiful – someone like that couldn't have been real.

"But it is real," Fuji replied innocently, and for a moment, Tezuka wondered if he'd spoken aloud. Fuji laughed upon reading Tezuka's expression, and it was a small, trickling laugh, like a brook of sorts. "I'm real, you're real, this is real. And as for confidence – I'm a confident person, Tezuka-sama. Or, I try to be. It's hard to be confident around you. You're very imperial." Fuji smiled, and Tezuka wondered if Fuji was trying to flatter him. "And… you frighten me."

"I frighten you?" Tezuka repeated incredulously. Here he was, a demon of sorts, and he was saying that Tezuka, a human, a mortal, frightened him?

"Why, yes. You understand – you control my future, Tezuka-sama. I've been in this little shop, this abandoned shop, for such a long time. It's lonely, I fear. The succubae provide me company, but it's incredibly lonely in this room. We can't wander, can't leave the shop unless our hosts... soulmates choose to allow us out."

"Then you've never been outside before." He felt oddly pitiful for this beautiful creature, though he barely knew him. Logic told him to run away while he could, but instinct told him to stay – something about him was strangely alluring.

"Never," Fuji said miserably. "It's horrifically lonely here, so dark and despondent. "You can't imagine. You live in a beautiful, bright environment with your friends and family. I'm trapped in a dusty room, a dark room, a dark mirror, with demons who feel much the same way I do. Only the lucky ones get to leave."

"What do you mean?"

"There have been succubae in the past who found a soulmate, a soulmate who dared walk into the shop and try to rescue them. But they're put through a series of tasks, and eventually, they're sent to the realm of the succubae, for a short period of time, to see if they're capable and worthy of rescuing us. Only a few made it. The chances are low."

"What happens to those who fail?"

"The humans are trapped in the realm, and the succubae die." Fuji seemed near tears now, though he didn't look like the type who was capable of crying. "I understand if you wish to leave," he offered. "You can leave now and never come back. I've only known you for a day, at most – but I think I've fallen in love with you."

Tezuka's heartbeat quickened, and to hell with logic.

"I think I've fallen in love with you, and I'd hate it if you were to be trapped here," Fuji continued. "It's safest if you go. I – I'll just stay, and…" He trailed off and averted his eyes. "I'm so sorry for taking you here."

"I couldn't leave you here," Tezuka replied firmly, wondering why he'd grown so attached to the brunette. "It'd be inhumane."

"But I couldn't let you be trapped here," Fuji protested, though his eyes held a noticeable spark of hope in them. "You have friends, and family. I have no one." He lowered his eyes pathetically.

"You deserve better," he answered quietly. "And I wouldn't – won't – fail."

"Does that mean…?"

"I'll do this for you," Tezuka promised. "I'll risk it," and he promised this, promised his life away, as easily as if he were promising a date.

Unbeknownst to him, Fuji's smile widened a fraction – the smile wasn't at all sincere.


Fuji hummed idly, brushing Gakuto's hair, while Marui leaned back, kicking his feet into the air. "That was successful," Fuji mused. "Somewhat. I haven't broken him completely, yet, which is strange. But it's a promising start."

Marui snickered. "I was watching your performance. Man, you get better as the years go on, don't you? Only one 'soulmate'," he said, putting quotes around the word soulmate and laughing to himself. "That's a pretty good way to put it. But host is a more accurate word for it. You made succubae sound like angels, Fuji."

"Succubae are demons, the children and servants of the devil, Lucifer, who was a fallen angel himself," Fuji pointed out, looking all too proud of himself.

Gakuto snorted. "That's a pretty distant connection. We're about as far from angels as you get."

Fuji smiled. "No harm in a few white lies."

"You'd think the man knows nothing about succubae," Gakuto commented.

"He probably doesn't," Marui replied. His smirk widened. "There aren't any survivors to tell the story, anyway."

Gakuto gave a scoffing laugh. "Yeah, really. Their souls are trapped here, with us… I think that was the only true part of your story, Fuji. You always convince your victims to let you outside, and…"

"Was it? Let me think…"

It was true – their souls were trapped, but by then, most of their original mindframe had vanished. They were incapable of thinking for themselves, simply because the succubae had all but tortured them into oblivion, had them wrapped around their fingers, turned them into menservants. It was frightening, almost – by the time the succubae were done with their victims, it was as if their victims were addicted – and in a way, they were. They couldn't live without the demon that had bonded them, couldn't survive, and once the succubus had, in a sense, used up the capabilities of the human, their spirits were taken away, to play with for an eternity. And then the succubae moved on to another human, another toy.

"You know, I think you're right," Fuji admitted. "That was the only part of the story that was true."

"See?"

"This one seems fun, at least." The three of them turned around to see Niou, leaning casually against the frame of the mirror, waving casually. "Yo."

"He does," Fuji agreed. "Fun, for a while."

"Maybe he'll even be 'the one,'" Marui said, grinning. "You know. The actual soulmate thing."

Niou waved the thought away. "You know that's just an old wife's tale. There's no such thing."

"How do you know?"

"Because it never happened before!"

"So?"

"So, it never happened before, and it's never going to," Niou said flatly.

Gakuto jumped in between them. "You two can't go two minutes without arguing."

"Same goes for you and Shishido," Marui said with an eye-roll.

"If 'the one' ever comes, we'll know," Fuji said simply. "They're all supposed to come in the same year, when they do, right? And besides, I hear that the soulmates aren't affected by us. We can't woo them unless they fall for us, themselves. It's very romantic," he added with a sigh. "Because they'd fall in love with us, of their own free will, right?"

"Wait, wait. I never heard this story. What is it?" Gakuto demanded.

Fuji turned to him quickly, eagerly, and they began discussing it like two giddy schoolgirls. "Basically, there's a rumor that each succubus has a soulmate, a real soulmate. Not just another victim. They'll be attracted to us immediately, like our victims, but they fall in love with us of their own free will, and not because of our..." Fuji practically giggled, "our dashing good looks and demon-y charms. And they can save us, either by sacrificing themselves or by having all of us reincarnated! It's all wonderfully romantic, isn't it?"

"It's a stupid story."

Fuji agreed. "But until someone proves it right or wrong, well…" He smiled. "We should have some fun with it, ne?"

Marui jumped up. "Speaking of toys, I hear Gakuto's got a new one?"

Gakuto scowled. "Shut up."

Niou chimed in, "Yes, I hear someone saw you in the mirror. What did he look like? Did you get to speak to him yet?"

"No," Gakuto admitted. "It was some really tall guy with blue hair and glasses. Seems like the studious type, if you ask me. I didn't talk to him. He was outside, peering in. I think he's a friend of Tezuka's."

"Tezuka is the studious type as well," Fuji said, dropping the –sama. "But they're easy enough to win over."

"I know that," Gakuto retorted. "But this guy… I don't know. Tezuka's the stiff, stoic sort of guy, but this blue haired person didn't seem like it. Who knows? Either way, it'll be fun to break him." He smiled a smile that was not unlike Fuji's own. "You're not the only successful one, Fuji. We've all got our fair share of victims, hm?"

He gestured to the vast expanse of dark shadows haunting the room, reaching out but never quite touching the small cluster of succubae by the mirror.

Niou whistled. "All yours?"

"Most," replied the redhead. "There are a few of yours, a few of Marui's, a few of Fuji's. But most of these are mine. They know I always hang out here."

"You switch spots every month," Marui pointed out.

"They're vigilant. They can find me. It's a very fun game."

"For you."

"For them, too," Gakuto said defensively. "They like finding me."

The others managed to get into a three-way argument, while Fuji watched the creeping shadows, desperately trying to reach Gakuto but never succeeding.

Tezuka will be like that, someday, he thought, and wondered why the thought gave him a slightly unsettling feeling, instead of the sadistic pleasure it used to.


"Is Oshitari-sama alright?" a girl asked, sidling up to said boy and smiling sweetly. "Oshitari-sama seems distracted today."

Oshitari nodded vaguely. "Yes, I have a lot on my mind," he said absentmindedly, and sat up. He sent a charming smile her way. Sanada rolled his eyes, while the girl swooned. "Thank you for asking," Oshitari offered. He took her hand and kissed it gently.

The girl squealed excitedly and ran off to tell her friends that Oshitari Yuushi, the Oshitari Yuushi, had kissed her. No doubt she'd exclude the part that it was only her hand, and not her lips.

"Don't you think that was too much?"

Oshitari turned to Sanada, who was torn between being amused and being exasperated. "You kissed her on the hand. Usually you fling a smile at them over your shoulder and that's that."

"I've been ignoring them lately," Oshitari murmured. "I need to make up for it."

Sanada frowned at him, "The girl was right. You've been distracted lately; you and Tezuka both. Did something happen?"

Oshitari was about to deny it, but upon seeing Sanada's trademarked Don't give me that crap glare, he sighed and replied, "It's the mirror shop we went to the other day. I'm certain there was someone there – in the mirror, I mean."

Sanada said dubiously, "You saw something in a mirror? Well, it could have been your reflection –"

"I'm sure it wasn't," Oshitari interrupted firmly. "The person in the mirror had a smaller shape than mine. His eyes were pale blue, not dark. They were sharp, and he didn't wear glasses. And his hair was the most vivid shade of cranberry red."

"Cranberry red?" Sanada repeated. "That's an odd color."

"And he had a pageboy bob," Oshitari added. "Straight hair. There's no way it could have been me."

"Maybe it was one of the workers."

"He was looking straight at me," Oshitari argued. "Why would a worker look straight at me? We were outside – no one should have been able to see us. Besides, the shop looked empty, except for that shopkeeper."

"It must have been a trick of the eye."

Oshitari sighed in frustration, "Go with me today. I'll prove that there was someone there."

Sanada folded his arms. "No. When you went last time, you were faint and dizzy for two hours, and could barely walk home. I had to carry your tennis equipment and schoolbags. I'm not doing that again. Besides, if I look too, then we'll both be faint and we'll probably collapse right by the mirror shop. No one's going to help us home."

"For Kami-sama's sake, Sanada, just go with me."

They went to the shop later that day. The store was empty, oddly enough, but Oshitari insisted on entering. Sanada followed helplessly behind.

"Hello?" Oshitari called. "Is someone there?"

Sanada looked like he couldn't see or hear a thing, but Oshitari heard it clearly. A sweet, light, lilting voice, telling him to go inside the rooms. Oshitari realized that the room in which he'd seen the redhead was closed – an old wooden door blocked the mirror. "Wait here," he told Sanada, ignoring the man's mutter of "Gladly" and entered the room, being sure to close it behind him.

The room felt full, but looked empty. At first, he could see nothing.

Then someone muttered, "Speak of the devil!" and some giggling ensued, from all corners of the room. "Hi," the same person said, and Oshitari whipped around to see the redhead he'd seen in the mirror sitting on a table, his legs dangling off it. "Nice to meet you. Well, we met the other day, right?" He had a pale, porcelain-like face, and looked incredibly fragile. His eyes were a sharp, pale blue, like he'd seen before, and his hair was shimmering and smooth, reflecting what little light the room appeared to have.

He was entrancing.

"I'm sorry," Oshitari began, confused. "I saw you the other day, yes. I must have been seeing things – I thought you were in a mirror, or perhaps I only saw your reflection –"

The redhead shrugged. "No, I was in the mirror. I can come out when I want to, but not out of the room." He smiled brightly, and instantly, Oshitari was charmed. "What's your name?"

"Oshitari Yuushi," he replied, not liking the way his voice shook, not liking how vulnerable it made him feel, not liking how vulnerable it made him sound.

"Cool." The redhead did a flip and jumped off the table. "I'm Mukahi Gakuto." He landed centimeters away from Oshitari, looked up and grinned. Again, Oshitari felt his knees go weak, felt his face flare up in a blush.

Since when did he, the stud, the player, the charmer of his school, blush at something as simple as a smile?

Gakuto got back on the table and crawled forward so he was at eye level with Oshitari. "You're so tall," he commented, and it was only when he spoke that Oshitari realized how close they were, so close that he could feel the redhead's breath on his face.

Oshitari swallowed. "Am I?"

"I've never met someone so tall before." He fixed his startlingly pale eyes on Oshitari's, hopefully. The latter's breathing quickened. "Sit up here with me. Please?"

Oshitari complied before he even thought about it – something seemed right – and also terribly wrong, but…

"You're very interesting. I like you, Yuushi-san." Oshitari looked up at the use of his first name, and Gakuto looked down, ashamed. "Ah, I'm sorry; I shouldn't have used your first name. That was rude of me."

"It's fine," Oshitari heard himself say. "I don't mind."

"Really?" Gakuto looked up again, and he found himself mesmerized by those wide blue eyes. "You can call me Gakuto, then."

"Gakuto," he tried, testing out the name.

Gakuto laughed that light, lilting laugh, and once more, he found himself enamored. "I like it," the redhead informed him. "It sounds nice when you say it, Yuushi-san."

He didn't like how shy he felt, like a schoolgirl. He was Oshitari Yuushi, the player, the prince of the school. He wasn't supposed to feel this way – he made others feel this way. This couldn't possibly be right.

"Who… what are you?" he breathed.

Gakuto paused, then tilted his head to one side, a gesture that Oshitari found undeniably cute. "Do you really want to know?"

He thought about it, wondered about the inexplicable mysteries that this boy held, the mysteries of the room, of the mirrors, of the shop, of Tezuka's odd behavior, even, and found that yes, he did want to know. He voiced this to Gakuto, who in return, explained the situation – explained everything, the succubae, the mirrors, the rooms, the 'soulmates.'

In telepathy.

Oshitari found himself speechless, and once again, Gakuto averted his eyes shyly and apologized for causing so much trouble, for being what he was and for leading Oshitari here. He spoke of it easily, like he was talking about something as simple as the weather, but kept his voice shy and modest all the same.

It was frightening – the situation was frightening.

He wanted to run, to never come back.

But at the same time…

"Are you mad at me, Yuushi?" the boy asked, disconcertedly.

He wanted to be. He wanted to be angry.

"No," he replied slowly. "I couldn't ever be angry at you, not possibly."

It was when Gakuto beamed and kissed him gently on the cheek, a feather-light touch that sent him reeling, that Oshitari knew he was in trouble.