ASCLEPIAS


2022; panravenc.


CHAPTER VII

Blood Manipulation


"So," Yuki starts, looking at him side-ways. "What other things can you do with your technique?" As always, her voice carries over hints of a mirth he just doesn't seem to get.

Chōsō's getting used to being confused whenever Yuki starts with her double-toned meanings, but it's still a tad frustrating. He doesn't know how to answer, what she's looking for―he's just given her and Tengen a rundown about his abilities in order to formulate the most optimal plan against Kenjaku.

"I have not kept to myself any information regarding my Blood Manipulation, if that is what you are referring to." He doubts it, though.

She laughs, loud and obnoxious, and Chōsō becomes spellbound, heart speeding up. With her hair tied up in a ponytail, magenta eyes glinting with the reflection of the artificial light of the place, it seems impossible to avoid it.

He doesn't know what to think about the alien sensations that flow through his chest in these type of moments. They've been occurring rather frequently as of late. They're not overwhelming, even if he thinks they have the potential to grow into it, but strange, alarming were it not because it appeals to the humanity within him.

And they always, always surge around Yuki.

Certainly, Tengen doesn't seem to inspire the same kind of feelings. Neither has anyone else he's interacted with.

(And although it cannot be compared, the only intensity resembling it is his love for his brothers. Now, that overwhelms him, becomes him; he's based his entire being around it. Being their big brother is what makes him Chōsō, rather than someone else, than anyone else, and what's starting to grow for his blond companion seems dull in comparison. It's not, of course. Nothing involving Yuki could ever be dull.)

"You're such a riot," she snorts, trying to calm her laughter down. "I meant uses outside of combat."

Chōsō frowns. "Not that I have thought of," but he pauses, and thoughtful, retracts himself. "It is useful for calming anxiety."

The surprise she wears on her face makes him question if that was―partially, at least―an incorrect answer. Yuki's difficult to read. It's what makes her intriguing, and piques his interest. It's bothersome, most of the time, though.

"Personal experience?"

"You could call it that, I suppose." And, well, she's looking at him in askance, and never let it be said Chōsō doesn't take any and all opportunities to talk about his brothers. "During the time we spent outside, Eso and Kechizu started to feel anxious about their bodies. I regulated their blood flow in order to calm them down," he explains, remembering those instances of Eso desperately covering his back or Kechizu's teeth grinding into each other. He wonders if he'll do the same for Yūji one day, if any of his other siblings will become like he is and Chōsō will get the chance to dote on them as the eldest.

When he looks back at her, Yuki's giving him a gentle smile. It only lasts for a moment, before she scoffs, amused. "Heh. I imagined it had to be something like that. But it's fine, I like that in a man." And immediately afterwards, she shoots him a wink.

Blood rushes to his cheeks, and now, more conscious about the topic of their conversation, Chōsō avoids it. He likes what he's come to learn are her flirtations, the kisses and gentle holds Yuki's decided to gift upon him during the time they've been in the chambers of Tengen.

"I see," his voice betrays the fluster he's managed to hide, and at his companion's knowing smirk, smug to the point of being irritating, Chōsō decides to go back to the topic. "Then, do you use your bon-ba-ie outside of combat?"

She hums. "I've showed off before. Want me to demonstrate?" Now, if she could tone down the mix of smugness and flirty behaviour, Chōsō would be able to remain calm without the influence of his technique. Whether it's her resting her head in his lap without warning, or hugging him while she's half-asleep, or kissing him in the corner of his lips only to push him down with intentions of devouring him whole (or so it seems), she's got him turning into a mess.

It's as frustrating as it's exciting.

Without waiting for an answer, Yuki closes the distance between them and holds him up. With one arm. Just, leans down, grabs his thighs, and up he goes.

It's startling, but he lets her. It's not a surprise, Chōsō already knows she's strong, and how her technique works. But something inside him shivers. It's―he wants her to keep holding him, for some reason. Put him against the wall like she does in their spars and keep him there as she kisses him, one of those kisses that last, the ones she calls proper kissing.

That's―something, alright.

"Works wonders for impressing pretty women," Yuki comments, as if talking about the weather.

Chōsō doesn't know anything about picking up, as Yuki's called it before, neither women nor men. But if it incites in any of them a fraction of what he's feeling, then it's not strange the blonde can brag about her experience with it.

"I suppose it would," it's all he says. Yuki's the one with the knowledge about double entendres and how to get under one's skin, not him. "I can imagine how Blood Manipulation could be used in similar ways."

She lets him down, curiosity overtaking her. "Oh?"

One of the fastest ways to attract Tsukumo Yuki's attention is to appeal to her intrigue. Chōsō's noticed it in the days they've spent together. It's―cute, dare he think. Not like when some of his brothers get into their mischief, but nonetheless, to him, equally charming.

"If it is to show harmless intent and mastery over one's technique," Chōsō starts, biting his thumb and letting the blood flow down, controlling it in order for it not to spill. "Would this suffice?"

Hundreds of small flowers bloom from his blood, exploding all around them. He doesn't know the name of the plant, had only seen them around in the hide-out with Kenjaku, apparently there for masking purposes, but it seems adequate. The buds are small, the petals, too, but in their arrangement, they make a beautiful bouquet.

"The mexican bloodflower?" Yuki asks, surprised. "Fitting."

"Is that its name?"

She smiles at him and shrugs. "One of them, at least."

Yuki stares at the flowers for some time, touches a couple of them. Chōsō feels it when she does, in that distant way he's aware of everything the blood under his control touches. Following his impulses, he forms more flowers around her, extending the real-life painting.

Blood suits her.

(His blood, specifically.)

"It's very beautiful, Chōsō," she comments, before looking around one more time and snickering. "Look at you, learning how to have some game. Many would fall for it."

At this point, Chōsō doesn't know if she's making fun of him or not, but he doesn't care. Whether it's a joke he doesn't get or a statement she speaks like truth, he will take Yuki's words and continue on.

"I am not interested." He responds, making quick work of returning his blood into his veins and sealing the wound.

Yuki raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Does that mean it's just for me, then?"

Suggestive. That's the one word Chōsō would describe her attitude towards him. Suggestive of sexual want, he could guess. Flirtatious.

And he doesn't understand it quite yet, how she works the game, but he enjoys it the best he can. In their quiet moments, in the middle of their spars, in conversations that have nothing to do with their current situation.

Chōsō likes it. He likes her.

"If that is how you want to take it," he allows, because it's true, either way.

She grins. She's amused, having fun, and it's a marvel. "Lucky me." Without warning, descends her lips upon his, but getting over the initial surprise, he follows her rhythm, enjoying the moment.

Should they both make it out alive, he thinks, he would like to have her around. Have her meet his brothers, and understand all of what she makes him feel.

Even if she doesn't stay, that's fine, too.

Whatever becomes of them, at least they'll have had this.