CHAPTER 8

The next day, Kyoko discovered she was forbidden to approach the workers.

Sawara did not like to give that order. Although he understood that Kyoko's behavior was troubling the restorers, she was an exemplary employee who was only focusing on the quality of the restoration. In fact, if it were not for her that restoration would not even be occurring. On the other hand, he could not ignore his obligation as a curator, so he complied with the restorers' requirement and warned her that she should keep her distance from now on.

Kyoko did not like being banished to the outer area of the palace and to the room she occupied because it limited her possible chores. Considering that not even on days off was she idle, since her definition of rest involved listening to music while she worked, that banishment seemed like a cruel punishment.

With no alternative, Kyoko began the day by doing errands in the city, and when there was nothing else to do there, she returned to the palace. She even tried to spy on the work in progress a few times, but was soon caught by someone and sent back to her room as if she were a grounded child.


Kuon missed her in the morning almost as if he were missing a piece of himself. He even thought of distracting himself by terrifying the workers, which would also serve to punish them for the complaints they dared to make against his lovely lady, but he changed his mind as soon as he realized that it might cause problems for her. Therefore, he decided that he would only torment Sawara. Just a little bit.

Not to mention that he would no longer object if it was to her liking that the restoration should take place. After all, she deserved a safe and comfortable place to live, which he was willing to provide at any cost, even if it involved suffering the excruciating pain he would feel if he were still attached to the castle as before.

Now that she had finally come home (because it was definitely her home, their home), Kuon watched her walk around, rearranging her belongings for the umpteenth time and removing nonexistent dust particles. Kyoko blushed occasionally because of him, unaware that she was sensing how much her pouting was delighting him.


The lively hammering she heard only worsened her punishment. The restorers seemed determined to take advantage of her absence, which worried her a great deal. She feared to examine the work at the end of the day and realize that they were not careful to preserve that secular construction. It would be a crime to adulterate a work so beautiful, solid, robust, vigorous, sexy and-

Huh?

"Oh my God, Kyoko! When did you become a pervert? "

{Oh?}


More gratifying than seeing (and making) her blush was to listen to the thoughts she let slip because she could not see him. And that was not all: whenever she revealed more than she should, the hints of her regret were clear, so she gave Kuon some precious information. For example, at that moment she had her eyes wide as she covered her mouth with her hands. Why the startle if "no one" was there to listen to her words?

{You're not fooling me anymore, milady. You can feel me, cannot you? You know I'm here!}

Even without seeing Kuon's smirk, Kyoko flinched.

{Since when, I wonder...}

Kyoko did not know that Kuon walked slowly toward her, but that did not stop her from feeling trapped.

{It seems that the connection is not one-sided, after all}


Not working was bad for her, and not only because it was hard to deal with the fear of what they were doing with her palace: her unoccupied mind always wandered to Kuon, her newfound obsession.

She could feel, at that moment, as if there were someone close to her. Whenever she closed her eyes, Kyoko sensed the distinct presence that could only belong to a tall man by the dimensions of the "body". When she concentrated enough, she could pick up an emanation similar to body heat except there was no heat. It was as if that man-thing-whatever also emanated an energy, but not of the thermal type.

It was something else.

She was already questioning her sanity. Her fantasies never went so far as to conjure up so many details. To the point of making her believe, from time to time, that "it" was Kuon, the man in the picture on the mantelpiece; her imaginary fiancé, the companion to whom she said all sorts of amenities without knowing that she was promptly answered.

She attributed the fact that he acted as a sensual man to her solitude and neglected needs, and her body's reactions were proof of how lonely and needy she was. Yes, he was the face of her repressed erotic fantasies, and every second it was harder to hide it from him.


{Are you having perverted thoughts about me, milady?}

Kuon had already provoked many reactions in her, but they were never as intense as now. He was so close that he could see her skin prickling. The hair on the back of her neck standing on end. The small gasps coming from her parted lips.

Her blush he could see from yards away.

He bent down to her neck as if in a trance. For a second, he could have sworn he caught a fragrance, a memory of jasmine and orange.

He had no olfactory cells. Hell, he did not even have a nose. Even so, nothing would stop him from trying to feel her, since it was obvious she was feeling him: her small, trembling hand rushed up to her neck and a chill ran through her.

She moaned. He smiled.

Kyoko opened and squinted her eyes and seemed to focus on his face, startling him: she had been able to guess the position of his head, still slightly inclined and close to her neck. He thought he would die, if he was not already dead, the instant she tried to touch his face.

{Kyoko, you... can you see me?}

Neither seeing nor hearing, and the answer to his question was obvious when she closed her eyes again and continued to feel the emptiness with an expression of high concentration.


She had a prodigious imagination if she could conjure a difference between nothingness and the face of her imaginary fiancé. Without the sense of vision spoiling her fantasy by screaming "there's nothing there!", she definitely could feel something. Someone.

For some reason, she imagined him with a sad smile, but it soon became hungry as she moistened her suddenly dry lips. It was strange how all the moisture in her body seemed to have moved to a single place. She felt him move closer to her, his presence so imposing that she could only move along with him. With each step he pushed forward, she responded by stepping back until she was trapped between him and the bedroom door.

{Now you are exactly where I want you, milady}

With trembling hands and still closed eyes, she traced the outline of his arms, shoulders, neck, and head. She wished she could feel the braids she saw in the portrait, tied by what appeared to be leather threads to prevent the gold strands from falling on his face and blocking his view. Those braids did wonders by highlighting the jaw she could almost feel with her fingers, before lowering them to his chest. There, her hands lingered a little longer, searching for warmth and heartbeat, but it was not in her hands that she caught such signals.

It was on her back. He stood before her, subjugating her and cradling her at the same time, his large hands wrapping her around her hips, but he was also behind her, warming her almost as if he were embracing her, a rhythmic vibration coming from the wood of the door just like a heartbeat.

Slowly, her hands came down to his abdomen, which accelerated the vibration in her back. She would smile sadistically for torturing him that way, were it not for the fact that his hands had a slowness similar to hers as they wandered from her hips to the center of her body, where she most wanted them.

{Two can play this game, milady}

She felt him restless and breathless, or maybe she was the one restless and breathless, until the beats on the wood became loud and clear and she thought she had won that battle.

An honest mistake.

Knock-knock-knock. "Miss? Miss Kyoko?"

{What a son of a-}

Kyoko practically jumped, as the pleasant vibrations on her back became a slamming knock on the door on which she leaned, followed by the call of one of the restorers wanting to speak to her.

What a way to end the best and most vivid sexual fantasy of her life!

Without knowing that Kuon was cursing the man who had interrupted the only sensual interlude he had had in centuries, but feeling the annoyance and frustration emanating from somewhere, Kyoko quickly opened the door to get rid of the poor man who seemed about to face all the displeasure of her imaginary fiancé.

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Er... I... us… I mean, the men, we..."

Kyoko's antenna picked up when the displeasure was replaced by bloodthirsty rage, which made her shudder unintentionally.

{Damn you! How dare you look at her that way?}

The worker, unaware of the danger, focused only on the woman in front of him, unexpectedly seductive while panting and with dilated pupils, and for a second he glanced briefly into the room to identify who was her lucky lover.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

Kyoko only thought of sending the man away as quickly as possible. Hizuri II already had too many problems without being the scene of the homicide that seemed to be about to happen for some reason.

"We're done for today, Miss, and... you're a Miss, are not you?"

{Not for you!}

"Yes! Yes, but what does this have to do with-"

"Nothing. I was just curious. Well, we're done for today. This floor already has electricity and hot water, then-"

"What?"

Surely, she had misheard.

"I said that this floor already has electricity and hot water, so-"

The rest she did not hear. All she could think was that she could finally get a hot bath without needing to heat the water on the huge wood stove and carry buckets and more buckets to the tub.

She was so happy that she bowed gratefully to the restorer, thanked him deeply, and apologized profusely for having messed up their work the day before, a recognition she would repeat the next morning to all the workers before their workday began.

Kuon, for his part, felt all the bitterness of jealousy. There was very little he could do for her, so he felt incompetent and unnecessary. The restorer had turned into a babbling mess and Kuon could not blame him for it. He too would be delighted if he were the receiver of so pure feelings of gratitude and repentance.

Certain that he would never matter so much to her, Kuon went to sulk in the attic, oblivious to the fact that he had left Kyoko feeling alone and completely confused by the succession of sensations that he had managed to provoke in such a short time.

A/N - One more chapter, my dears! I'm very happy that you guys are enjoying it so far. When I read your comments, I am immensely happy!

(I also feel the enormous weight of responsibility, OMG, I cannot ruin everything! Corall, you almost killed me when you spoke of Tim Burton. I did not know if I wanted to leap joyfully or shrink in a corner and cry. Actually, now I'm fucked by the expectations I've created about me) XD

I just hope everyone has fun until the end, the same way I have fun when I think of the story to come.

Daamile, eu quase tive um troço de tanto rir quando li "conexão pélvica astral". De verdade. Aliás, eu ainda rio XD Gostei da sua ideia estilo Ghost, mas eu já tenho outra coisita em mente ;)

A big hug to all of you! Oh, and the questions asked will be answered throughout the fic! ;)